Towards Munich
The year 1938 is often bandied about by pundits--and more recently, by politicians--as a warning to the present. Various analogies are posited, and metaphors extended, and the reader or listener is left with the impression that we are on the verge of another great war, another global conflagration catalyzed by the flammable admixture of unmoderated extremism and Western appeasement.
1938 was, of course, the year of Munich--a city-name transmogrified by historical actors into an infamous epithet. It was here, at the birthplace of the Nazi party, where Neville Chamberlain famously bought "peace in our time" with an act of desperate and humiliating compromise. Posterity would define Munich as an attempt to satiate an unsatiable crocodile--with hindsight judging Chamberlain a failure because he bought neither peace nor time in his effort to appease the territorial hunger of Adolph Hitler. This judgment is fair, though simplistically unkind, and has utility, in that it gave us a needful maxim: "Do not appease evil."
It might be said that the Munich we have come to internalize is Hitler's Munich. This is the Munich of Western weakness and democratic decadence, the Munich that gave a tyrant the confidence and validation to move forward with his designs. We deride Munich precisely insofar as it was a message of invitation, a green light, as it were, alerting Hitler that the road had been cleared of all Western resolve and that he could proceed apace. In our popular understanding, we focus solely on the calculational impact of appeasement on the apperception of a willing and voracious foe. This is what we mean when we speak of Munich.
Kissinger speaks eloquently of the derived definition of Munich:
Accordingly, the history of Munich is now used to warn against appeasing the Mullahs, to underscore the insanity of allowing Iran to acquire nuclear weapons. While I agree with the fundamental thrust of the historical comparison--that Iran's nuclear ambitions must be met with strength and resolve--I'd like to highlight another detail that tends to hide in the analogical shadows of Munich 1938.
I want to address the issue of redlines. Here's Kissinger again, on what led up to Munich:
Chamberlain was not quixotic. He was driven to attempt negotiation because he could not, in good conscience, allow a war to break out without trying every honorable means at his disposal to avert it. Munich, was, in this respect, a last gamble on Hitler's reason. But Hitler was not interested in being reasonable:
Both British and French leaders rejected outright this proposal, and war looked imminent. But at the eleventh hour Mussolini stepped in and gave everybody a glimmer of hope that this disaster could be diverted. Mussolini suggested a meeting at Munich to work out the differences, and the rest, as the cliche goes, is history. The Western powers publically hailed the Munich agreement as a triumph, and congratulated each other on their shrewd and timely diplomacy.
But more than one Rubicon was crossed that day:
There is, then, another lesson of 1938, one the Iranians would do well to heed.
Images from the hostage crisis in 1979, Ahmadinejad's threats to Israel, and Iranian bad faith in the negotiations over its nuclear program--not to mention the rising distrust of all things Islam in the West--have probably already pushed the American public past the point of no return, past the point of reasonable interlocutor searching for common ground, to a position of implacable hostility. Recent polls support this theory.
Bush has been clear about American intent: we "will not accept" and "will not allow" Iran to have a nuclear weapon. Iran has decided to dismiss this clear warning, and, through its negotiational perfidy, has squandered the last vestige of our trust.
There is much worry about us appeasing Iran. The other lesson of Munich is that Iran might have lost its ability to appease us.
1938 was, of course, the year of Munich--a city-name transmogrified by historical actors into an infamous epithet. It was here, at the birthplace of the Nazi party, where Neville Chamberlain famously bought "peace in our time" with an act of desperate and humiliating compromise. Posterity would define Munich as an attempt to satiate an unsatiable crocodile--with hindsight judging Chamberlain a failure because he bought neither peace nor time in his effort to appease the territorial hunger of Adolph Hitler. This judgment is fair, though simplistically unkind, and has utility, in that it gave us a needful maxim: "Do not appease evil."
It might be said that the Munich we have come to internalize is Hitler's Munich. This is the Munich of Western weakness and democratic decadence, the Munich that gave a tyrant the confidence and validation to move forward with his designs. We deride Munich precisely insofar as it was a message of invitation, a green light, as it were, alerting Hitler that the road had been cleared of all Western resolve and that he could proceed apace. In our popular understanding, we focus solely on the calculational impact of appeasement on the apperception of a willing and voracious foe. This is what we mean when we speak of Munich.
Kissinger speaks eloquently of the derived definition of Munich:
Munich has entered our vocabulary as a specific aberration--the penalty of yielding to blackmail. Munich, however, was not a single act but the culmination of an attitude which began in the 1920's and accelerated with each new concession...Munich, therefore, was not a surrender but a state of mind and the nearly inevitable outgrowith of the democracies' effort to sustain a geopolitically flawed settlement with rhetoric about collective security and self-determination.
Accordingly, the history of Munich is now used to warn against appeasing the Mullahs, to underscore the insanity of allowing Iran to acquire nuclear weapons. While I agree with the fundamental thrust of the historical comparison--that Iran's nuclear ambitions must be met with strength and resolve--I'd like to highlight another detail that tends to hide in the analogical shadows of Munich 1938.
I want to address the issue of redlines. Here's Kissinger again, on what led up to Munich:
The situation was as if made to order for Hitler's talent in waging psychological warfare. Throughout the summer, he worked to magnify hysteria about an imminent war without, in fact, making any specific threat...Chamberlain's nerves snapped. Though no formal demands had been made and no real diplomatic exchanges had taken place, Chamberlain decided to end the tension on September 15 by visiting Hitler.
Chamberlain was not quixotic. He was driven to attempt negotiation because he could not, in good conscience, allow a war to break out without trying every honorable means at his disposal to avert it. Munich, was, in this respect, a last gamble on Hitler's reason. But Hitler was not interested in being reasonable:
Hitler showed his disdain by choosing Berchtesgaden as the meeting place--the location in Germany farthest from London and the least accessible...
At Bad Godesberg on September 22, Hitler raised the ante and made it clear that he sought the abject humiliation of Czechoslovakia...When Chamberlain objected to being presented with an ultimatum, Hitler snidely pointed to the word "memorandum" typed on top of his presentation. After hours of acrimonious argument, Hitler made another "concession": he would give Czechoslovakia until 2:00 P.M. on September 28 to reply, and until October 1 to begin withdrawing from the Sudeten territory.
Both British and French leaders rejected outright this proposal, and war looked imminent. But at the eleventh hour Mussolini stepped in and gave everybody a glimmer of hope that this disaster could be diverted. Mussolini suggested a meeting at Munich to work out the differences, and the rest, as the cliche goes, is history. The Western powers publically hailed the Munich agreement as a triumph, and congratulated each other on their shrewd and timely diplomacy.
But more than one Rubicon was crossed that day:
Paradoxically, Munich turned into the psychological end of the line for Hitler's strategy.
This was especially true of Great Britain. By his conduct at Bad Godesberg and Munich, Hitler used up the last reserves of British goodwill. Despite his fatuous statement of having brought "peace for our time," when he returned to London, Chamberlain was determined never to be blackmailed again, and launched a major rearmament program.
Hitler's blunder was not so much to have violated historic principles of equilibrium as to have offended the moral premises of British postwar foreign policy...Great Britain's patience was neither inexhaustible nor the result of a weak national character; and Hitler had, at last, fulfilled the British public's moral definition of aggression...From that point on, Great Britain would resist Hitler not in order to comply with historic theories of equilibrium, but, quite simply, because Hitler could not longer be trusted.
Ironically, the Wilsonian approach to international relations, which had facilitated Hitler's advances beyond what any previous European system would have considered acceptable, after a certain point also caused Great Britain to draw the line more rigorously than it would have in a world based on Realpolitik. If Wilsonianism had prevented earlier resistance to Hitler, it also laid the foundation for implacable opposition to him once its moral criteria had been unambiguously violated.
There is, then, another lesson of 1938, one the Iranians would do well to heed.
Images from the hostage crisis in 1979, Ahmadinejad's threats to Israel, and Iranian bad faith in the negotiations over its nuclear program--not to mention the rising distrust of all things Islam in the West--have probably already pushed the American public past the point of no return, past the point of reasonable interlocutor searching for common ground, to a position of implacable hostility. Recent polls support this theory.
Bush has been clear about American intent: we "will not accept" and "will not allow" Iran to have a nuclear weapon. Iran has decided to dismiss this clear warning, and, through its negotiational perfidy, has squandered the last vestige of our trust.
There is much worry about us appeasing Iran. The other lesson of Munich is that Iran might have lost its ability to appease us.
posted by John Aristides at 9/21/2006 09:15:00 AM
1 Comments:
Few people seem to realize, as I think you do, that Chamberlain was not a effete pacifist seekeing to come to an accommodation at any cost. Chamberlain's long history in the service of the British Empire consisted largely of overseas positions in rather remote locales, places where British power was unquestionable but where the Empire had to walk softly andf not speak of its big sticks lest local sensibilities be offended. He was more of a Churchhill than an Ashly Montague.
Chamberlain knew how to come to an accomodation with foreigners. and he tried to do that. He was practicing more of a late 30's version of Realpolitik rather than 1970's Carterism. Of course, given the challenge, anything other than Churchillism or Reaganism - and preferably initiated 10 years earlier - was doomed to failure.
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