by Kai Bird
MCCLOY:
Now, she [Russia] will say, “All right, we’ll give you that, but give us that same thing in Europe and Asia.” If we do that I do think there’s an argument that we cut the heart out of the whole world organization—is it worth doing that? . . .
STIMSON:
Well, you don’t think that Russia is going to give up her right to act unilaterally in those nations around her which she thinks so darned—are useful, like Romania and Poland. . . .
MCCLOY:
Uh, no . . .
Recognizing the inevitable, McCloy still could not help feeling uneasy about sanctioning the formation of such regional security blocs. He warned Stimson that this might mean “we finally have a good big regional war one of these days.”32
Within a week, McCloy had supervised the drafting of an article of the U.N. Charter recognizing the right of “collective self-defense” regardless of whether or not the Security Council acted in any particular conflict. Accepted by the Soviets, Article 51 later became the basis for the two powers’ string of regional security pacts around the world.
By May 10,1945, McCloy was back in Washington, where he briefed Stimson, Marshall, Undersecretary of State Joseph Grew, Navy Secretary Forrestal, Averell Harriman, and other officials. Everyone in the room seemed to agree that McCloy had done the right thing by standing firm on the regional question.33 Afterward, Stimson invited McCloy, Harriman, and Harvey Bundy to stay for lunch. Harriman gave them all a “gloomy report” on the prospects of working with the Soviets. “He didn’t think,” Stimson recorded for his diary, “there was any chance of getting the seeds of liberalism into Russia. . . .” Harriman bluntly warned that though “Russia is really afraid of our power or at least respects it . . . she is going to try to ride roughshod over her neighbors in Europe. . . .” Stimson “very confidentially” raised “our problem connected with S-i [atomic bomb] in this matter.”34 Indeed, ever since Roosevelt’s death, Stimson had begun to spend more and more of his time weighing the matter of the bomb and its possible effects on U.S. relations with the Soviets.
CHAPTER 12
Hiroshima
“. . . really, we ought to have our heads examined if we don’t explore some other method by which we can terminate this war. . . .”
JOHN J. MCCLOY TO PRESIDENT TRUMAN JUNE l8, 1945
On May 14, Stimson had a long conversation with British Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden that focused almost entirely on the progress of the Manhattan Project. McCloy and Marshall joined them for lunch, and afterward Stimson summed up his views on the bomb for McCloy:
I told him this was a place where we really held all the cards. I called it a royal straight flush and we mustn’t be a fool about the way we play it. They can’t get along without our help and industries and we have coming into action a weapon which will be unique. Now the thing is not to get into unnecessary quarrels by talking too much and not to indicate any weakness by talking too much; let our actions speak for themselves.1
Stimson’s attitude at this point conformed with McCloy’s conviction that though the Russians could be difficult, a “practical relationship” with them was in America’s interest. The atomic bomb, which both men fully expected to be a technical success within a month, was merely one more reason why the Russians would have to become less recalcitrant in their dealings with the West.
The next morning, McCloy served as “recorder” for a meeting of the Committee of Three in which Stimson, Forrestal, and Undersecretary of State Joseph Grew discussed various problems with the Soviets arising from the Yalta accords. A few days earlier, Grew had handed McCloy a memo that posed a series of tough questions regarding the Soviets: what kind of pressure was the United States willing to exert to ensure that the Soviets kept their half of the agreement? How important was it to Washington now to obtain Soviet entry in the war against Japan? Should the United States agree to a joint U.S.-Soviet occupation of Japan or insist on a purely American occupation? These questions, Stimson thought, “cut very deep and in my opinion are powerfully connected with our success with S-i” (the atomic bomb).2
In what Stimson described as a “pretty red hot session,” the men proceeded to discuss the points Grew had raised. They worried that, once they entered the war in the Far East, the Soviets would begin to backtrack on their Yalta promises to recognize the Chiang Kai-shek regime and stay out of China. Stimson felt it might be “necessary to have it out with Russia” on these matters. But he forcefully argued that such questions were for the moment “premature.” The United States needed to postpone talking about these questions until after the atomic bomb had been tested. He was worried that Truman had agreed to meet Stalin and Churchill on July 1, which was at least two weeks before the first possible atomic test: “. . . it seems a terrible thing to gamble with such big stakes in diplomacy without having your master card in your hand.”3
Six days later, after mulling the whole matter over with McCloy, Marshall, and his other advisers, Stimson sent the State Department a formal reply to Grew’s May 12 list of questions. Regarding the question of Russian intentions, he reported that “it appears we can bring little, if any, military leverage to bear on the Russians in so far as the Far East is concerned, unless we choose to use force.”4 Nor did he think that Washington could influence whether the Soviets would enter the war against the Japanese. Their decision to do so or not would be based strictly on their own national interest. And from his perspective, it really didn’t matter, since the war against Japan was almost won.
Although a conventional invasion of the Japanese home islands had to be prepared, both Stimson and Marshall recognized it might not be necessary. As Stimson phrased it in a reference to the atomic-bomb project, “Fortunately, the actual invasion will not take place until after my secret is out.”5
On May 16, 1945, McCloy helped Stimson prepare a memo for Truman on the situation in both the Far East and Europe. Once again, he urged restraint and advised the new president to deal realistically with the Russians. Truman was told that, because it would take many months to redeploy U.S. forces to the Far East, he had more time for “diplomacy” vis-à-vis the Soviet Union than “some of our hasty friends realize.” The real problems in dealing with the Soviets lay in Europe, not the Pacific. “Pestilence and famine” would likely sweep Central Europe the following winter, leading to “political revolution and Communistic infiltration.” Stimson and McCloy took for granted that the Soviets would control much of Central Europe. “Our defenses against this situation,” they argued, “are the western governments of France, Luxembourg, Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Norway, and Italy. It is vital to keep these countries from being driven to revolution or Communism by famine.” Consequently, U.S. and Canadian wheat surpluses would have to be shipped to Western Europe that summer. But in the long term, they advised the president, “We must find some way of persuading Russia to play ball.”6
Stimson and McCloy were greatly relieved when Truman accepted their advice to reschedule the meeting in Potsdam with Stalin after the first atomic test: “We shall probably hold more cards in our hands later than now.” Like Stimson and McCloy, Truman assumed the Soviets would become more forthcoming on Poland and other issues when informed of a successful test of the new weapon.7
He was not the only official in Washington who hoped the atomic bomb would persuade the Russians to “play ball.” James F. Byrnes, the man whom Truman had designated as his representative on the Interim Committee, was certain the bomb would make the Soviets more manageable in Europe. A conservative South Carolina politician, Byrnes hoped to persuade the Soviets to withdraw their troops from Hungary, Rumania, and other parts of Eastern Europe. Russia, he said, “might be more manageable if impressed by America’s military might.”8
Unlike Byrnes, Stimson and McCloy had no real expectations that the Soviets would withdraw from their defensive sphere of influence in Eastern Europe. But they nevertheless hoped that the expected American monopoly over the atomic weapon would dam
pen Russian ambitions and persuade them that their sphere of influence should be porous enough to tolerate some Western trade.9 Whether the bomb would actually have to be used in combat in order to demonstrate its power was a different question. By the end of May, McCloy began to differ with his “Colonel” on the question of whether the bomb would be necessary to end the war in the Far East. The latest intelligence estimates suggested the Japanese were in fact very close to a surrender. As early as mid-April, the Joint Intelligence Committee had concluded that the Japanese were hoping only to modify the surrender terms so as to preserve the institution of the emperor.10 Then, in mid-May, Allen Dulles reported from Switzerland that the resident Japanese minister, Shunichi Kase, had expressed interest in mediating a cessation of hostilities. This caused OSS chief Bill Donovan to write the president, “Kase believes that one of the few provisions the Japanese would insist upon would be the retention of the Emperor as the only safeguard against Japan’s conversion to Communism. Kase feels that Under Secretary of State Grew, whom he considers the best US authority on Japan, shares this opinion.”11 Grew, in fact, did share this assessment and believed the war would end quickly if Washington issued a statement explaining that unconditional surrender did not carry with it the dethroning of the emperor.
Soon McCloy was arguing with Stimson that there was every reason to believe the new Japanese Cabinet headed by Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki, a recognized moderate, was looking for a face-saving way out of the war.12 On May 28, he went so far as to recommend that the phrase “unconditional surrender” be dropped altogether: “Unconditional surrender is a phrase which means loss of face and I wonder whether we cannot accomplish everything we want to accomplish in regard to Japan without the use of that term.”13 Even if in the end the bomb had to be used, McCloy was now persuaded of the importance of giving the Japanese both a fair warning and some kind of assurance that the institution of the emperorship would not be destroyed. The next day, he drafted a memo with Marshall’s approval that reflected the chief of staff’s views on the use of the bomb. Marshall suggested that the first target of the bomb should be “straight military objectives such as a large naval installation. . . .” If the Japanese still did not capitulate, Marshall said, then “we ought to designate a number of large manufacturing areas from which people would be warned to leave—telling the Japanese that we intended to destroy such centers.” He emphasized that “every effort should be made to keep our record of warning clear. . . . We must offset by such warning methods the opprobrium which might follow from an ill-considered employment of such force.”14
But two days later, on May 31, 1945, Marshall failed to press these views in a meeting of the Interim Committee.I It was at this all-day meeting that the initial decision was made to drop the bomb on Japan without warning. (Because he was not a member of the Interim Committee, McCloy was not present.) The transcript shows no real debate took place about whether to use the bomb. During their lunch break, Stimson and some of the scientists discussed whether a demonstration of the bomb somewhere could serve as a substitute for a surprise atomic attack. But Robert Oppenheimer dismissed the idea, saying he could think of no practical demonstration of the weapon. The other scientists present did not dispute this judgment.15
After lunch, Stimson “expressed the conclusion, on which there was general agreement, that we could not give the Japanese any warning; that we could not concentrate on a civilian area; but that we should seek to make a profound psychological impression on as many of the inhabitants as possible.” Stimson agreed with James Conant’s suggestion “that the most desirable target would be a vital war plant employing a large number of workers and closely surrounded by workers’ houses.”16 Stimson, before and after this meeting, repeatedly voiced his objections to saturation bombings of civilian targets, but in this instance concurred in the atomic targeting of civilian workers’ homes.
The prevailing assumption, that the bomb should be used against the Japanese in order to shorten the war, was not challenged. (As early as April 23,1945, General Groves had told Stimson, “. . . the target [for the atomic bomb] is and was always expected to be Japan.”17) Stimson assured the assembled scientists that he did not regard the bomb “as a new weapon merely, but as a revolutionary change in the relations of man to the universe.” And yet, even though everyone acknowledged that this was a unique device—or, in Stimson’s words, a potential “Frankenstein which would eat us up”—it would nevertheless be used like any other weapon in the U.S. arsenal.18 There was also general acknowledgment that “fundamental knowledge of this subject was so widespread” that the secret of the bomb could not long be maintained as an American monopoly. But when Marshall suggested inviting two prominent Russian scientists to witness the first test, he was firmly rebuked by Byrnes. The minutes of the meeting record Byrnes as expressing the general consensus that the United States should “push ahead as fast as possible . . . to make certain that we stay ahead and at the same time make every effort to better our political relations with Russia.”19 No one suggested that the two activities might be contradictory.
On June 6, Stimson conveyed the Committee’s recommendations to Truman. But the decision was still not set, if only because many officials could see that the war might now end much sooner than any had thought. Along with other top-ranking War Department officials, McCloy was aware that on the last day of May the OSS had reported on another Japanese peace feeler, this time by the counselor of the Japanese Legation in neutral Portugal. The OSS source reported that the Japanese diplomat had declared that the “actual peace terms were unimportant so long as the term ‘unconditional surrender’ was not employed.” The Japanese, the OSS reported, “are convinced that within a few weeks all of their wood and paper houses will be destroyed.”20
By mid-June, McCloy felt nearly certain that any U.S. invasion of the Japanese home islands was unnecessary. By contrast, Stimson was confused and appeared overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. On the evening of June 17, he was also suffering from one of his migraine headaches when McCloy stopped by Woodley to talk about the whole question of a Japanese surrender. Stimson was scheduled to attend an important meeting the next afternoon, at which the president would be asked to approve the initial land-invasion plans. The Joint Chiefs had proposed that the first attack take place on November 1 against the southern Japanese home island of Kyushu; Marshall estimated U.S. casualties in this initial operation would run on the order of thirty-one thousand. That night, McCloy argued with Stimson that the entire operation was unnecessary. “We should have our heads examined if we don’t consider a political solution,” he bluntly told Stimson.21
Truman, he said, ought to be told to make a personal appeal to the Japanese emperor. An unconditional surrender of Japanese military forces could be effected, he argued, if the Japanese were assured that the emperor’s position could be preserved in a constitutional monarchy. McCloy then suggested that Truman’s message to the emperor could end with an ultimatum, threatening use of a terrible new weapon that could destroy whole cities with one blow. He was certain that such a political overture, combined with the ultimatum, would almost surely bring about an immediate surrender. Appealing to Stimson’s sense of moral statesmanship, he suggested that, if such an overture did not bring about a capitulation, America would find itself on firmer moral ground if the bomb was used.22
Stimson seemed to agree. He told McCloy he would make the case for such an appeal at the meeting the next afternoon. But later that evening, feeling very worn out, he called McCloy and said, “Jack, I’m not up to going to that meeting tomorrow. I’ll arrange with the White House to have you take my place.”23 The next afternoon, however, soon after McCloy walked into the 3:30 P.M. meeting in the White House, Stimson showed up, having dragged himself out of bed.
The meeting began with Truman’s asking the assembled generals for their military recommendations. In retrospect, McCloy considered this meeting an unfortunate example “of confining large questions on the c
onduct of the war to purely military considerations. . . .”24 Too often, he felt, the civilian leadership, out of deference to military judgment, ended up ignoring important political considerations. Roosevelt had encouraged this practice, and his inexperienced successor would conduct such meetings in the same fashion. General Marshall spoke first, and by the time he had outlined the contingency plans for a full-scale invasion of the Japanese home islands, there seemed nothing more to be said.
Even Stimson seemed resigned now to the invasion plans, despite the concessions he had made the previous evening to McCloy’s views. The most he could muster was a vague comment on the possible existence of a peace faction among the Japanese populace: “I do think,” he told Truman, “that there is a large submerged class in Japan who do not favor the present war and whose full opinion and influence have not yet been felt. . . . I feel something should be done to arouse them and to develop any possible influence they might have before it becomes necessary to come to grips with them.”25
It was left to a military man, Admiral William D. Leahy, the president’s acerbic military aide, to point out an obvious political fact: an insistence on absolute, unconditional surrender would surely stiffen Japanese resistance. Leahy voiced his skepticism on the need for any invasion.26 Truman commented that he didn’t believe the American public was willing to end the war on any other terms, but he admitted that, when he had last talked to congressional leaders, he had left the door open to modifying the terms. Preparations for an initial invasion that autumn, he said, should proceed. But then, according to McCloy’s recollections, Truman made it clear that he wanted the Joint Chiefs to “return for further instructions before the preparations arrived at a point beyond which there would not be further opportunity for a free choice on the part of the President.” (In his memoirs, Admiral Leahy put it more bluntly: “The invasion itself was never authorized.”27)
