While the precise date at which the Cold War began remains a heavily debated matter among historians, the lines are usually drawn at 1933, upon the rise of Adolf Hitler as the leader of Germany, or 1945 with the end of the Great Patriotic War. In order to please both sides of the debate, a brief introduction to events beginning in 1933 seems appropriate.
On March 24, 1933 the German legislature, the Reichstag, passed the Enabling Act. The act was passed not at the parliament but at the Kroll Opera House, for the Reichstag had the previous month been ravaged by an arson attack. The exact culprit of this attack remains disputed, but one cannot help but notice how convenient it was for Hitler and his National Socialists, or Nazis. On the heels of the event, decrees soon followed stripping Germany of civil liberties, and the culmination of this was the Enabling Act, passed as Nazi stormtroopers surrounded the building. Chancellor Hitler was granted the power to enact laws completely independently of the Reichstag. The German parliament had, in effect, signed its own death warrant by granting the rise of a new dictator in Europe. Soon, Adolf Hitler would change his style to that of Führer, and all Germany would be swept up in a personality cult devoted to the man as the Nazi swastika adorned every building and lamppost in the land.
Hitler had come to power promising to end the economic misery that tore at Germany, and he was remarkably successful. Huge public works programmes and, ominously, rearmament, boosted the German economy and by the mid-thirties the nation was booming once more to the praise of many in the wider world. Accounts from the time give frank assessments about the satisfaction many Germans felt, as quality of life soared. But beneath all this was a far darker reality. The Nazis had made no secret of the appalling racism which formed the core of their ideology, targeting various groups such as gypsies, homosexuals, the disabled and, most infamously of all, the Jewish peoples. This began with persecution, which the general public would often partake in, but would soon take a darker and unimaginably tragic path. Meanwhile, Hitler pursued the expansion of Germany beginning with the reclamation of those lands lost following defeat in the First World War. On March 7, 1936 German troops marched unopposed into the Rhineland, demilitarised German territory imposed by the post-war Treaty of Versailles. The French, though infuriated, took no action and the balance of power began to swing decisively towards Germany. Two years later, the Anschluss took place when Germany annexed Austria, welcomed with open arms by the Austrians and with the rest of the world doing virtually nothing in response. But fears of war were looming. Later that year, Hitler began demanding the German-speaking territories of Czechoslovakia, where much of the country’s heavy industry and border defences were also located. Britain and France, desperate to avoid a repeat of the First World War’s devastation, met the German leader at Munich and devised an agreement that effectively gave Hitler exactly what he wanted. Promoted as “peace in our time” by the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain whose image has become iconic as he triumphantly waved the sheet of paper upon which the Munich Agreement was written, it was a betrayal of Czechoslovakia which became little more than a rump state. Winston Churchill said of it, "England has been offered a choice between war and shame. She has chosen shame, and will get war." But how much further did England need to be pushed to go there?
Of all Hitler’s desires, none shined brighter than Poland. Formed from carved up German territory after the war, Hitler regarded Poland’s very existence as an insult and so too did many Germans. The evil of Poland was taught in schools, and the military were by 1939 putting together plans for an invasion. But Poland had an alliance with Britain and France, and this time Hitler was more worried. It was not just Britain and France, but also the gargantuan Soviet Union on the opposite side of Poland. Hitler had big plans for them too, envisioning a vast new German territory carved out of Eastern Europe to create a new empire. And so, in August, the German foreign minister Joachim von Ribbentrop flew to Moscow to negotiate a non-aggression pact. Economic deals had already been signed, but a pact between two nations fundamentally opposed to each other seemed ludicrous. Though some common ground was found in their shared opposition to capitalism, ultimately Stalin pulled out and the negotiations collapsed. The Soviet dictator’s characteristic paranoia was for once serving him well, as he saw only deceit in the Germans, and received plenty of intelligence about the anti-communist attitudes of Germany. It is nowadays regarded as ridiculous by many to think that fascists and communists could have ever formed such a pact as was proposed, but in this author’s opinion odder things have happened in history. With his plan scuppered, Hitler realised that, if he were to invade Poland, he could now find himself on a two front war that military advice told him he could not win. But Hitler both wanted and needed his war, not just out of his manic vision of a future empire but also out of pressing economic needs. And so, he needed a new approach.
On September 1, 1939 the leaders of Britain, France, and Poland met together in Cologne at the invitation of Hitler, where he offered them a deal in which he would guarantee Poland’s security. The French, upon hearing the proposal, were shocked and President Albert Lebrun flew home on the first day. But Chamberlain was more intrigued, and the Polish were more than happy to tick whatever kept them safe. “We have a common enemy in the communists,” Hitler told them and the Poles, who had fought a devastating war with the Soviets from 1919 to 1921, agreed. Chamberlain, taken by Hitler’s apparent sincerity, finally gave his approval for the plan on September 3. Britain’s French ally was left completely in the dark, and the French were livid. The German colonial empire, which had been taken away in 1920, was to be returned to the Reich in exchange for Poland’s security “for all eternity.” This included the incorporation of present-day Tanzania, Namibia, Cameroon, Togo, and former German New Guinea. Previously under the protection of the League of Nations, the Treaty of Cologne saw their return to the Reich. The French were especially resistant, as was to be expected, but would ultimately give in as they saw little reason to waste their own strained economic efforts keeping afloat some remote corners of Africa. Many condemned the deal; one British MP pointed out the racism of Nazi Germany, and asked the Prime Minister “what possible ethics we have left when we hand over human beings of the exact description that they call unworthy of life?” Germany, conscious of world opinion and hoping to maintain a favourable image to Britain and France, chose to avoid the persecution of the native inhabitants. Instead, they expelled them from the colonies into neighbouring territories, regardless of whether they would survive or not. Despite protests from the British and French, no order from Berlin came to stop the trains loaded with natives from the mass deportation. But such an act was still a massive endeavor, requiring herculean effort to move so many people over so huge an area, and within a year the death toll would reach two million. Hitler was acutely conscious that this would effectively plunge the colony’s economies into anarchy, which could not be remedied until substantial numbers of settlers arrived from Germany, settlers who were as of yet unborn. But Hitler’s ultimate dream, to take Poland and eventually Russia, still existed. And so his own plan went into action.
On Christmas Day, a bomb went off at a military parade in Warsaw commemorating the holiday. We know from the remarkably extensive Nazi archives that this was orchestrated by the German government. Killing 23 people including 12 soldiers, it infuriated the Polish public. Within days, Germany claimed to have captured the three men responsible for the bombing as they “attempted to flee from Poland.” Claiming that they were three communists, they had actually been political prisoners in Bavaria since 1937 but the Polish took the bait, and to many Poles it seemed that Germany was almost heroic in coming to their defence. The Soviet Union was soon blamed, to which they responded with aggression as troops built up on the Polish border, expecting attack. World opinion was already against the Soviets; as if being communist wasn’t enough, in November they had invaded Finland, attracting international condemnation and making it ever easier to foster hatred. On January 2, Hitler ordered the German economy to move onto a war footing, alarming Britain and France. Their alliance with Poland still standing, it now seemed that their ally was caught between the fascists and communists. Chamberlain informed the Polish government that if attacked by the Soviets, Britain would stand with Poland. But Hitler went even further, promising to help repel any invasion.
But as spring turned into summer, nothing happened.
Hitler was growing frustrated, anxious that his intentions would be noticed at any moment. The German leader’s support for Poland seemed bizarre to observers, but it was a genius political move. Hitler had concocted a plan. Hoping that the Soviets would attack Poland, he would have his reason to strike at a country that Britain and France would too be forced to declare war on. To do so, his troops would have to move through Poland, and Hitler had no intention of having them leave. If Hitler’s plan to be at peace with the Soviets while at war with Britain and France had failed, then he would have to be at peace with Britain and France while at war with the Soviets.
On March 24, 1933 the German legislature, the Reichstag, passed the Enabling Act. The act was passed not at the parliament but at the Kroll Opera House, for the Reichstag had the previous month been ravaged by an arson attack. The exact culprit of this attack remains disputed, but one cannot help but notice how convenient it was for Hitler and his National Socialists, or Nazis. On the heels of the event, decrees soon followed stripping Germany of civil liberties, and the culmination of this was the Enabling Act, passed as Nazi stormtroopers surrounded the building. Chancellor Hitler was granted the power to enact laws completely independently of the Reichstag. The German parliament had, in effect, signed its own death warrant by granting the rise of a new dictator in Europe. Soon, Adolf Hitler would change his style to that of Führer, and all Germany would be swept up in a personality cult devoted to the man as the Nazi swastika adorned every building and lamppost in the land.
Hitler had come to power promising to end the economic misery that tore at Germany, and he was remarkably successful. Huge public works programmes and, ominously, rearmament, boosted the German economy and by the mid-thirties the nation was booming once more to the praise of many in the wider world. Accounts from the time give frank assessments about the satisfaction many Germans felt, as quality of life soared. But beneath all this was a far darker reality. The Nazis had made no secret of the appalling racism which formed the core of their ideology, targeting various groups such as gypsies, homosexuals, the disabled and, most infamously of all, the Jewish peoples. This began with persecution, which the general public would often partake in, but would soon take a darker and unimaginably tragic path. Meanwhile, Hitler pursued the expansion of Germany beginning with the reclamation of those lands lost following defeat in the First World War. On March 7, 1936 German troops marched unopposed into the Rhineland, demilitarised German territory imposed by the post-war Treaty of Versailles. The French, though infuriated, took no action and the balance of power began to swing decisively towards Germany. Two years later, the Anschluss took place when Germany annexed Austria, welcomed with open arms by the Austrians and with the rest of the world doing virtually nothing in response. But fears of war were looming. Later that year, Hitler began demanding the German-speaking territories of Czechoslovakia, where much of the country’s heavy industry and border defences were also located. Britain and France, desperate to avoid a repeat of the First World War’s devastation, met the German leader at Munich and devised an agreement that effectively gave Hitler exactly what he wanted. Promoted as “peace in our time” by the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain whose image has become iconic as he triumphantly waved the sheet of paper upon which the Munich Agreement was written, it was a betrayal of Czechoslovakia which became little more than a rump state. Winston Churchill said of it, "England has been offered a choice between war and shame. She has chosen shame, and will get war." But how much further did England need to be pushed to go there?
Of all Hitler’s desires, none shined brighter than Poland. Formed from carved up German territory after the war, Hitler regarded Poland’s very existence as an insult and so too did many Germans. The evil of Poland was taught in schools, and the military were by 1939 putting together plans for an invasion. But Poland had an alliance with Britain and France, and this time Hitler was more worried. It was not just Britain and France, but also the gargantuan Soviet Union on the opposite side of Poland. Hitler had big plans for them too, envisioning a vast new German territory carved out of Eastern Europe to create a new empire. And so, in August, the German foreign minister Joachim von Ribbentrop flew to Moscow to negotiate a non-aggression pact. Economic deals had already been signed, but a pact between two nations fundamentally opposed to each other seemed ludicrous. Though some common ground was found in their shared opposition to capitalism, ultimately Stalin pulled out and the negotiations collapsed. The Soviet dictator’s characteristic paranoia was for once serving him well, as he saw only deceit in the Germans, and received plenty of intelligence about the anti-communist attitudes of Germany. It is nowadays regarded as ridiculous by many to think that fascists and communists could have ever formed such a pact as was proposed, but in this author’s opinion odder things have happened in history. With his plan scuppered, Hitler realised that, if he were to invade Poland, he could now find himself on a two front war that military advice told him he could not win. But Hitler both wanted and needed his war, not just out of his manic vision of a future empire but also out of pressing economic needs. And so, he needed a new approach.
On September 1, 1939 the leaders of Britain, France, and Poland met together in Cologne at the invitation of Hitler, where he offered them a deal in which he would guarantee Poland’s security. The French, upon hearing the proposal, were shocked and President Albert Lebrun flew home on the first day. But Chamberlain was more intrigued, and the Polish were more than happy to tick whatever kept them safe. “We have a common enemy in the communists,” Hitler told them and the Poles, who had fought a devastating war with the Soviets from 1919 to 1921, agreed. Chamberlain, taken by Hitler’s apparent sincerity, finally gave his approval for the plan on September 3. Britain’s French ally was left completely in the dark, and the French were livid. The German colonial empire, which had been taken away in 1920, was to be returned to the Reich in exchange for Poland’s security “for all eternity.” This included the incorporation of present-day Tanzania, Namibia, Cameroon, Togo, and former German New Guinea. Previously under the protection of the League of Nations, the Treaty of Cologne saw their return to the Reich. The French were especially resistant, as was to be expected, but would ultimately give in as they saw little reason to waste their own strained economic efforts keeping afloat some remote corners of Africa. Many condemned the deal; one British MP pointed out the racism of Nazi Germany, and asked the Prime Minister “what possible ethics we have left when we hand over human beings of the exact description that they call unworthy of life?” Germany, conscious of world opinion and hoping to maintain a favourable image to Britain and France, chose to avoid the persecution of the native inhabitants. Instead, they expelled them from the colonies into neighbouring territories, regardless of whether they would survive or not. Despite protests from the British and French, no order from Berlin came to stop the trains loaded with natives from the mass deportation. But such an act was still a massive endeavor, requiring herculean effort to move so many people over so huge an area, and within a year the death toll would reach two million. Hitler was acutely conscious that this would effectively plunge the colony’s economies into anarchy, which could not be remedied until substantial numbers of settlers arrived from Germany, settlers who were as of yet unborn. But Hitler’s ultimate dream, to take Poland and eventually Russia, still existed. And so his own plan went into action.
On Christmas Day, a bomb went off at a military parade in Warsaw commemorating the holiday. We know from the remarkably extensive Nazi archives that this was orchestrated by the German government. Killing 23 people including 12 soldiers, it infuriated the Polish public. Within days, Germany claimed to have captured the three men responsible for the bombing as they “attempted to flee from Poland.” Claiming that they were three communists, they had actually been political prisoners in Bavaria since 1937 but the Polish took the bait, and to many Poles it seemed that Germany was almost heroic in coming to their defence. The Soviet Union was soon blamed, to which they responded with aggression as troops built up on the Polish border, expecting attack. World opinion was already against the Soviets; as if being communist wasn’t enough, in November they had invaded Finland, attracting international condemnation and making it ever easier to foster hatred. On January 2, Hitler ordered the German economy to move onto a war footing, alarming Britain and France. Their alliance with Poland still standing, it now seemed that their ally was caught between the fascists and communists. Chamberlain informed the Polish government that if attacked by the Soviets, Britain would stand with Poland. But Hitler went even further, promising to help repel any invasion.
But as spring turned into summer, nothing happened.
Hitler was growing frustrated, anxious that his intentions would be noticed at any moment. The German leader’s support for Poland seemed bizarre to observers, but it was a genius political move. Hitler had concocted a plan. Hoping that the Soviets would attack Poland, he would have his reason to strike at a country that Britain and France would too be forced to declare war on. To do so, his troops would have to move through Poland, and Hitler had no intention of having them leave. If Hitler’s plan to be at peace with the Soviets while at war with Britain and France had failed, then he would have to be at peace with Britain and France while at war with the Soviets.
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