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An important three-day conference was held at London University on 11-13 January. Arranged jointly by the Royal Historical Society and the Institute of Historical Research, its theme was “Churchill in the 21st Century.” A galaxy of leading historians presented papers ranging from the loyal to die revisionist on various aspects of Sir Winston Churchill’s career. One of the highlights was a round-table discussion by Lady Soames and three well-known political figures, who recalled some of their memories of the great man. A number of ICS members from both the United Kingdom and the United States were present. Each session lasted for one hour, so the summaries of some of the conference items, given below, are necessarily truncated. It is hoped that the full proceedings of most of this very interesting conference will appear in book form. I regret that my absence from the last day’s discussions prevented me from creating abstracts of four sessions: “Churchill in Caricature” by Tim Benson; “Churchill and Europe” by John Barnes; “Churchill and the British Empire” by John Darwin, and the concluding session, “Churchill’s Place in History.” If any reader can provide these, they would be appreciated by the editor. —Paul H. Courtenay
PAUL ADDISON, Director of the Centre for Second World War Studies, University of Edinburgh, author of The Road to 1945 and Churchill on the Home Front.
There were three main phases to Churchill’s career: the Liberal reformer until 1915; the interwar Tory; and, from 1940, the national and international hero. In the first phase he saw himself less as a Tory than as a Tory Radical and political heir to his father. His radical phase was brief and reflected Lloyd George’s ascendancy over him, but by 1915 he was a different Churchill and veering back towards the Tories. This was because of changing circumstances and his own world perceptions. The 1911 Agadir crisis led to a focus on strategic issues and awoke the Napoleon in him: inside the politician was a soldier trying to get out. He emerged from the Dardanelles era as a conservative statesman and a military leader.
In the second phase he was concerned at the prospect of a Russo-German Bolshevist bloc, which led him to praise Italian Fascism and initially to favour Franco in Spain. But his recognition of Germany as the hinge, and of the Nazi wish to dominate, made him see the need for solidarity against Germany. His attack on the Government of India Bill contributed to his reputation as a misfit by the parties, as in 1914. After Munich he was ostracised by the Conservatives; the winter of 1938/39 was his true period in the wilderness.
As well as the inspiration he gave from 1940, Churchill also had wonderful luck. He was proved right about the Nazi threat, while bearing no responsibility for what happened in the 1930s; his perceived weaknesses, such as alleged militarism, were now assets; his ability to transcend party was a further asset; and there was room for someone who could imagine the impossible. But the alliances with USA and USSR led to unwelcome changes; they weakened his opposition to Socialism, obliged him unwillingly to legitimise the Polish borders, and damaged the British Empire. These were personal blows to Churchill, but not to Britain itself.
Churchill was great for two main reasons: firstly, because he was right about the Nazis in the 1930s, and but for his leadership all might have been lost; secondly, because in all three of his careers he was a great man in his own right, by virtue of the sheer size of his personality.
STUART BALL, Reader in History, University of Leicester, author or editor of many books on the Conservative Party in the 20th century.
Churchill always navigated by his own compass. His wartime premiership was above party, and after 1945 the Conservatives were glad to claim him, but raided his past only for 1940. Though accused of flawed judgment, he stumbled no more than most. It is surprising that he attracted so many followers, especially over India, which led to the greatest rebellion the Conservatives had ever known.
Appointing Churchill to any post in 1924 was risky for Baldwin, but the Treasury was less politically sensitive than, for example, the Home Office, and there were sound political reasons for his return to government. Churchill now placed the greatest emphasis on loyalty to Baldwin and the Cabinet; he viewed the General Strike in the same way as Baldwin, i.e., a challenge to the constitution.
His eclipse in 1931 was not due to India or to tariffs. There was a third factor: the feeling against the “old gang” and the need to refresh the Conservative front bench; he was one of those washed into a backwater due to party feeling. He was unhappy at Lord Irwin’s declaration on Indian independence, but his 1931 resignation from the Business Committee was not a leadership bid; it was the only option open to him. He was aware from 1929 that Chamberlain was Baldwin’s likely successor, so he followed his own course and took little account of the views of others. He was one of several ministers whose influence had declined, and he now had time to devote to domestic affairs: painting, Chartwell, etc.
Churchill expected a recall to government to take charge of Defence Coordination and his conduct in the 1930s made little sense if he was seeking the leadership. His stance on India was separate from all other issues and the excess of his opposition made official policy more credible; at party meetings, however, this policy was opposed by large majorities, the wider question being seen as one of confidence. Churchill was thus regarded as seeking to destroy the National government. His call for a Ministry of Supply was supported by others, but he moderated his public statements in order not to prejudice the possibility of his return. The Abdication crisis was a setback to him, but the storm was as brief as it was intense.
Churchill was the seconder when Chamberlain was elected party leader. This was not just a symbol of unity, but showed that Churchill still counted in Conservative politics. Though he was still listened to in the appeasement period, he was seen as a lonely figure, even meeting hostility in his own constituency. But he followed the prudent strategy of looking after his own base and retained the support of his local chairman. After March 1939 the anti-appeasers were seen as realistic and, after his return to the Admiralty, Churchill gave total support to Chamberlain, notably over Norway.
Two party problems which he had to face during World War II were the fact that there was a national, not a party, government; and domestic policy—which, while never threatening his position, sometimes caused concern to Conservatives. He neglected his party responsibilities during the war, but there was little he could do about the tide against the “guilty men of Munich.” His wartime record saved him from losing the party leadership, which he retained until 1955.
Despite creeping socialism during the war, his reluctance to move left reassured the Party. The 1951 election was seen as his victory; he now gave a lead on main occasions, delegating details to others. Churchill was closer to mainstream Conservative opinion than is usually recognised, especially in 1924-1931. His instincts were shared by many, if not always openly. After the war he led the Tories from the mainstream centre-right and was a more capable party politician and effective leader than generally acknowledged. His final years as Prime Minister were overshadowed by his stroke and failing physical powers; yet under him the Conservatives established themselves in a role which was to last for decades to come.
DAVID CANNADINE, Director, Institute of Historical Research, Professor of History, University of London; author of The Decline and Fall of the British Aristocracy.
Churchill was an ardent admirer of the monarchy, but his relations with the royal family were far more complex and he sometimes found individuals unappealing. He saw Queen Victoria as a good and constitutional monarch; additionally her personal propriety set high standards and she was the great presiding personage over the British Empire; but he never forgot that government was responsible to Parliament and not directly to the Crown. Long evolution had led to a happy Parliament and a docile monarchy.
Although well acquainted with Edward VII, Churchill came to view him as obstructing his reforming zeal, while the King saw Churchill as more of a cad in office than in opposition. Both Edward VII and George V thought that Churchill wanted to erode their royal position, while George V thought him unreliable. Churchill, with his ducal links, was not intimidated by royal displeasure. While recognising George V’s zeal, he made no secret that he thought him to be a dim reactionary. There was relief in royal circles in 1915 when Churchill left the Admiralty. These mutual views began to change between the wars. The collapse of the European empires, and the civil wars and revolutions which followed, led Churchill to see George V no longer as a reactionary, but as a living tradition in a turbulent era and one who was above class strife; in turn the King warmed to Churchill.
Churchill’s hopes for Edward VIII were sincere and rested on an exaggerated sense of Edward’s virtue; he was blind to the King’s faults. During the Abdication crisis he rallied to the King and tried to play for time—a wrong decision, which did damage to his reputation because he had seriously misjudged the character of the King and the public mood. He later remained loyal to the Duke of Windsor as far as he could without prejudicing his greater loyalty to the Crown.
George VI initially disapproved of Churchill, not only over WSC’s support for his elder brother, but because WSC was opposed to Chamberlain, whom the King admired, along with Chamberlain’s policies. He viewed the prospect of Churchill as Prime Minister with regret and would have preferred Halifax.
Churchill was soon seen by the public as a symbol of national unity, upstaging the King. Nevertheless, relations improved and the King came to recognise WSC’s vigour and indispensability. In 1945 George VI was as dismayed to lose him again as he had been to appoint him in 1940. Henceforth Churchill remained a firm favourite. On his 80th birthday Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother said, “We are all very proud of you.”
Churchill admired the young Queen Elizabeth II, who reciprocated. On his death she ordered a State Funeral, which she attended in person. His ultimate opinion on six sovereigns took time to establish. His attitude to Edward VII, George V, Edward VIII and George VI (and theirs to him) fluctuated over time; only the Queens, Victoria and Elizabeth II, had his unstinted admiration.
DAVID CARLTON, Lecturer in International Studies at the University of Warwick. Biographer of Anthony Eden, author, recently, of Churchill and the Soviet Union.
It is usually argued that Churchill was always clear that once Hitler had come to power, the Soviet Union must be courted as a potential ally, much though he disapproved of the Soviet regime. This view needs to be challenged: In 1936, Churchill wavered from his line of working with the Soviets against the Nazis; he feared a Red victory in Spain and was undecided which of the two “evil empires” was the greater threat to Britain. After Franco’s victory was assured, he returned to his earlier position.
A. J. P. Taylor stated that, on becoming Prime Minister, Churchill’s aim was the defeat of Hitler and the undoing of his conquests—and that he never wavered from this aim; but the truth is again more complicated. During the Dunkirk crisis Churchill contemplated in principle an agreement with Germany, provided Britain’s vital interests were protected; but he opposed Halifax’s wish to explore peace terms immediately, as he felt it would be detrimental to public morale at that critical point if it became known that an approach had been made.
In the summer of 1941 Churchill anticipated American entry into the war and Soviet withdrawal from it. Eventually Hitler did declare war on the United States, but by then the Americans were, to an important degree, distracted from Europe by being also at war with Japan. On the other hand, Churchill was wholly wrong about the Soviets and perhaps never fully recovered from the blow of seeing Soviet victories relentlessly leading to the emergence of the Soviet Union as the dominant power in the new Europe. Certainly he spent much of the later part of the war planning to frustrate the Soviet Union’s malign designs, real or imagined.
By 1946, now out of office, Churchill was publicly expressing anti-Communist sentiments, though containment is usually assumed to have been his goal in his famous Fulton speech. In reality he had a hidden desire for confrontation. As he privately told the Americans in 1948, he favoured a showdown with the Soviet Union before the latter had its own nuclear weapons, thus disproving the belief that he spent ten postwar years seeking conciliation. Fortunately, however, Truman took no notice of his wish to prepare for a preventive nuclear war.
After his return to office in 1951 his well-known search for summitry was essentially insincere: his aim was to retain office. He had nothing of substance to propose to the Soviets and it is understandable that the United States rejected his pleas. Moreover, in 1953, when the European Defence Community was on the verge of collapse, Churchill wrote an alarmist minute which was surely not that of a serious supporter of detente, but rather that of an unreconstructed enemy of Moscow. Thus it is reasonable to claim that he never ceased to be anti-Soviet from the 1917 revolution until his retirement in 1955; and it may even be argued that his anti-Nazi phase was for him something of a digression, however necessary. In short, his contest with Bolshevism gave his life its greatest meaning.
JOHN CHARMLEY, Professor of History at the University of East Anglia, author of Churchill: The End of Glory and Churchill’s Grand Alliance: the Anglo-American Special Relationship.
In 1927 Sir Maurice Hankey said that making concessions to gain American good will would not work: “We should be more abused than ever as we should be thought weak.” How different this was post-1945; the change was brought about by Churchill himself. When he was chided by Anthony Eden for having made too many concessions to the United States, he retorted that he had got a good deal of his own way as a result. In his war memoirs Churchill disguises the traumatic loss of power by referring to the special relationship: the British were viewed not as foreigners but almost as citizens of a new Roman Empire.
Churchill’s version of 1940-41 disguises the true position, which is that of a heart made sick by constant hope deferred; he persisted in the belief that the United States was about to enter the war and concessions were therefore necessary to achieve this end. Roosevelt liked to maintain flexibility and to keep his options open; he saw folly in looking too far ahead. He wanted the Fascists to be defeated and for Britain to remain in the war against them. But Churchill saw Roosevelt as a noble idealist who was frustrated by isolationists. Churchill paints him as a comrade-in-arms with his heart in the right place, but FDR was more astute than Churchill and in his handling of WSC than vice-versa.
Churchill was a suitor in this instance; any criticism of him must ask why he did not act like de Gaulle and spurn appeasing Roosevelt. The latter aimed at regional hegemony: after assisting with convoy protection, he did nothing new until the Japanese attack. The British elite did not accept Churchill’s view that no major concessions had been made, feeling that the destroyers received in exchange for bases in the West Indies were out-of-date and supplied at a slow rate; Churchill preferred to see the deal as symbolic. Although Churchill called Lend-Lease an “unsordid” act, there was some shoddiness about it. The Roosevelt Administration wanted to destroy the British Empire; Churchill did not dissent from Beaverbrook’s view that the United States had made Britain pay the uttermost, but such a statement did not suit his view of the alliance.
The Soviet alliance prejudiced the world order Roosevelt wanted to see. The Atlantic Charter had referred to the right of all peoples to self-determination; Churchill did not see this as referring to the British Empire. It was Hitler, not Churchill, who brought the United States into the war in Europe. Churchill did influence Allied strategy in 1942, including his bad Mediterranean strategy, but he had to defer to Roosevelt’s insistence that Overlord should be given highest priority.
Churchill’s assumption of an identity of interests between Britain and the United States extended as far as a dream of ultimate union. Even though this phantasm was unrealisable, enough of the Churchillian attitude to America rubbed off on his fellow politicians to make them assume that Britain’s future as a great power lay exclusively in a transatlantic connection. This led them, and Churchill, to neglect the opportunities of Britain to take a leading part in the move towards a European Union.
By the end of the war the Americans were more interested in a special relationship with the Soviet Union; this contrasts with Churchill’s picture. In reality the illusion over the United States allowed Britons to think that Britain was still a great power, which was no longer true.
PETER HENNESSY, Professor of Contemporary Modern History, Queen Mary & Westfield College, University of London. Author of books on British political and constitutional history including The Prime Minister: The Office and its Holders since 1945.
Churchill told Lord Moran that he was a great believer in Cabinet discussion, which always took place in his peacetime government; but he was frustrated if he did not receive support. The conduct of his wartime premiership is widely known. This paper therefore concentrates on his postwar period of office, but includes comparisons with the earlier time; it is too simplistic merely to contrast the two tenures. During the war he had to devote some time to postwar reconstruction and the global future; the Beveridge Report of 1943 is a good example.
Churchill initialled the minute authorising the use of atomic bombs against Japan without consulting the Cabinet, the only British Prime Minister to have agreed to use this weapon in war. The best of his failing energies were directed to the search for peace before “equality of ruin.”
Although he was convinced that his wartime use of overlordships was not necessary once the war emergency had receded, he told the Cabinet in 1953 that he did not wish to deal directly with so many ministers; he persisted with overlords because of a sense of his failing powers and lack of touch on domestic matters. His postwar government can be seen under four overlapping shadows: his World War II experience (including the use of overlordships), waning British power, concerns over the H-bomb, and his growing physical infirmities. He took pleasure in being surrounded by his honorary family of familiars at 10 Downing Street and in his peculiar late-night working hours. By 1951 he had long since passed the age when new faces were palatable to him.
His failing powers were known by a small inner circle. In 1953 the newspaper proprietors were prevailed upon not to reveal details of his stroke. He often overreacted to newspaper comment and initiated some absurd military sideshows, e.g., the recreation of the Home Guard in response to a perceived Soviet parachute threat. But the Cold War was the most important aspect of this period. He was uneasy at the use of napalm in Korea and, in connection with atomic research, recoiled from peacetime deception. He felt that without nuclear weapons Britain could not maintain its position as a world power; he saw their possession as narrowing the gap between Britain on the one hand and the United States and Soviet Union on the other. But the Cabinet was not wholly supportive on this point.
Churchill would often work in bed, accompanied by his cat and budgerigar, and not rise until lunchtime. It is inconceivable now that a Premier could work from bed in this way, and such eccentricity will never be seen again.
ROLAND QUINAULT, Reader in History, University of North London. Author of various studies on Winston Churchill and other members of his family.
His father’s belief in Tory Democracy and his favourite phrase “Trust the People” had a profound influence on Churchill. He wanted universal suffrage, but only when the conditions were right; with the same proviso he also wanted the suffrage to be extended to all women, not just to those from the propertied classes. Although he initially saw the House of Lords as a bulwark against an overmighty Commons, he later changed his view, being incensed by the Lords’ rejection of the 1909 Budget; he considered peers in government to be unrepresentative.
Churchill considered Imperial Germany to be less democratic than Britain but more democratic than Russia, and so welcomed the Russian revolution. But he denounced Lenin and Trotsky when they abandoned parliamentary rule: he objected less to their ideology than to their terrorism. He saw the 1926 General Strike as antidemocratic, as it sought to compel Parliament to do something it would not otherwise do; in this he remained true to his father’s “Trust the People.”
He was opposed to Indian independence because he saw India as unsuited to democracy, with its small (mostly illiterate) suffrage denied to numerous citizens, e.g., the 60 million Untouchables. He saw the Nazis like the Communists, as anti-democratic; his opposition to appeasement was partly due to his view that it undermined democracy. During the Second World War he felt that democracy was on trial, first against the Nazis and then against the Communists.
Churchill predicted that “the wars of peoples will be more terrible than the wars of kings.” He believed in gradual levelling up, but his fight for democracy in World War II strengthened independence movements in India and the Empire. Though an aristocrat, his instincts were democratic, and that was a large part of his success.
JOHN RAMSDEN, Professor of Modern History, Queen Mary & Westfield College, University of London. Author of several histories of the Conservative Party and of a study of Churchill as his own historian.
Before 1914 Churchill was seen as a self-publicist with poor judgment. But two aspects gave him an unfair image. As political heir to his father, added to the circumstances of the Boer War, he was not popular with the Irish (including the large Irish population in Australia), although he was generally in favour of Irish Home Rule; he was viewed as anti-working class, although he had instituted major social reforms. He was frequently considered to be a politician who had to explain himself too often. Gallipoli was, after all, government policy, and we know that his reputation on Russia was not deserved (though this was not known at the time); his stance on the Abdication of Edward VIII was partly derived from his opposition to Baldwin.
His longevity in politics, and the transformation from a Victorian cavalry officer to one who lived to travel by jet, meant that he did not necessarily adapt well to the modern era; but it was amazing that he adapted at all. Five pillars of his later reputation were: his extraordinary personality, his prophecies on defence issues in the 1930s and postwar, his inspirational courage as war leader in 1940, his drive and resourcefulness as war leader for five years, and his matching of words to deeds in speeches and writings. The New York Times considered that his two great achievements were to fight on in 1940 and his later warnings about Stalin. He was seen as the embodiment of the British war effort and as an outstanding personality, whose successes and failures were on an equally grand scale; nevertheless his personality was humanly earthbound.
How does Churchill stand the test of time?
• More and more information is becoming available, and the opening of public records is giving a more balanced story.
• He was the prophet of war and of cold war, which revealed some critics.
• He told Roosevelt not to make concessions to Stalin, but could have done so more strongly.
• His Fulton speech had official support which could not be given openly; only he could have said what he did.
• He was the key figure in 1940. Cabinet papers show that he did not rule out a compromise peace, and was less heroic than his war memoirs suggest.
• He heavily defeated a vote of No Confidence in the central direction of the war.
• Attempts to cut him down to size were easily demolished.
• His centrality was understood in Germany, where an attack on Churchill was seen as essential to wreck British morale.
• His reputation as a warrior was exaggerated by his friends. Three or four decades have chipped away at these aspects, but most are intact. BBC Radio 4 named him runner-up (after Shakespeare) as Man of the Millennium.
DAVID REYNOLDS, Fellow of Christ’s College, Cambridge. Author of Rich Relations and other works on Anglo-American relations during and after the Second World War. Currently writing a book on Churchill’s The Second World War.
Churchill originally planned only four volumes of war memoirs, with five chapters on 1919-1939; in the event 21 chapters were devoted to the inter-war period. The Gathering Storm was shaped by the available sources (Churchill’s team of researchers ensured that this account had inside information) and his determination to highlight lessons for the current Cold War.
Among British leaders, he saw Baldwin and Chamberlain as the villains; Baldwin wanted a quiet life and Chamberlain wanted to be the peacemaker. Churchill’s warnings helped to galvanise the government towards rearmament in the air. But alarm at his exaggerated figures on German air strength led to timidity and were thus partly counter-productive, leading to fewer resources for the army; conscription and a larger army would have had a greater impact on Hitler.
His concentration on the German threat led to his largely neglecting Italy and Japan. His coverage of the Spanish Civil War was scant, while his anti-communist line predominated in 1936; by 1938 he was concerned at prospects of a Franco victory. The idea of a Grand Alliance was much clearer by the end of this period.
The 1930s were not wholly “wilderness years”; Churchill was an outside adviser to the government (on the Air Defence Research Committee) and hoped for office. In the early 1930s he attacked Baldwin on India, but after Baldwin’s 1935 victory, he hoped to join the Government and pulled his punches in the Rhineland debate.
The Gathering Storm still has enormous power, due to the main issues raised: democracy and appeasement. Churchill’s underlying point was that strong leadership can have an effect on modern democracy. He felt that appeasement could be good or bad according to the circumstances. If followed from fear it is useless; if adopted from strength it is noble and might lead to world peace. But by the 1950s, in his second premiership, the lessons of appeasement (which he had helped to teach) were too powerful; he found it easier to make than unmake history.
CHRIS WRIGLEY, Professor of Modern British History and Head of the School of History & Art History, University of Nottingham. Author of works on British trade unions, economic and political history. President of the UK Historical Association, 1996-99.
Churchill began his career proclaiming himself to be a Tory Democrat. Between 1897 and 1911, and after 1940, he was generally favourable to trade unionism. Between 1911 and 1926, in the face of social tension and a high number of militant strikes, he became identified as a notable defender of order. With the trade unions’ role in the Second World War, and his need for working class support after his 1945 general election defeat, Churchill in his later career again spoke of Tory Democracy and was warm in many of his comments on trade unions.
In his first attempt to enter Parliament in 1899 he stood with James Mawdsley, a trade unionist who was more conservative than many historians subsequently realised; although he later became Chairman of the Trades Union Congress, Mawdsley was a notable anti-socialist.
Churchill’s approach was to help the workers without affecting their competitiveness; he had a deep belief in market forces and individualism and wanted to help the underdogs, but not organised Labour. Until 1911 his contact had been primarily with moderate trade unionism, but he later became more alarmed about militant miners and railwaymen, rioting crowds, etc. He saw trade unions not as socialistic, but as individualistic, and felt that the right to strike would not be possible in a socialist society.
As Home Secretary his duty was the maintenance of law and order, rather than to act as Judge between industrial disputes. As Minister of Munitions in 1917 he tried to remedy the grievances of skilled workers on hourly pay by giving a 12 1/2% pay rise, in spite of civil service warnings that this would set off a chain of pay demands and strikes. In the turmoil of 1919 he saw trade unionism as a bulwark against revolution; the curse of trade unionism was that there was not enough of it. He saw the General Strike of 1926 as a constitutional outrage, though he viewed the accompanying coal strike as legitimate. He was keen that workers take part in trade union meetings and not let the communists and socialists make all the decisions.
In 1940 the trade unions were ready to support Churchill’s coalition government because of the presence of Ernest Bevin, who was able to meet the Prime Minister on equal terms. Churchill praised the union movement’s contribution to victory and to postwar reconstruction.
JOHN YOUNG, Professor of Politics, University of Nottingham. Author of Winston Churchill’s Last Campaign: Britain and the Cold War 1951-55.
The statesman who lambasted the Soviets in 1919 was the same one who was allied to Stalin from 1941 and who later sought a Peace summit with the Russians. Yet Churchill’s search for a postwar summit was consistent. He recognised that once the Soviet Union had a nuclear capability, Communism could not be destroyed by a showdown, only diplomacy; trade and personal contacts could achieve this. His faith in humanity told him that repressive regimes did not last forever and that there was therefore no need for a violent confrontation.
Churchill advocated an alliance with the United States after the war, justifying it by the Soviet threat; but he also made positive remarks about the “valiant Russian people” and admired their strength. He said in 1949 that the Kremlin feared friendship, because free intercourse would destroy Communism, and the following year called for “a parlay at the summit”; but the Americans did not like this idea.
In 1953, seizing on the death of Stalin, Churchill again called for a summit conference; Eisenhower was not consulted. Churchill’s reaction to the East German uprisings in June 1953 was that he had no wish to see a problem for the Russians there. After his stroke that month he was obsessed with a narrower group of subjects: the H-bomb and detente.
He had some success in 1954 in reducing the limitations on East-West trade. He stated publicly that increased trade would lead to a weakening of the Soviet regime; this gave Eisenhower a reason to introduce such a policy in the United States. Although Churchill proposed a bilateral meeting to Molotov, British ministers were opposed; he was saved by a Soviet message that they wanted to discuss European security, which was not Churchill’s aim. He was thus able to withdraw his proposal and avoid a major Cabinet crisis.
By the end of his career he was unapologetic, saying that two decades of peace would bring profound change in the Communist bloc. He continued to believe that the safest way to fight Soviet Communism was to engage in trade and other links. He failed in his aim because of ill health, and the fact that the Foreign Office never liked the idea of a summit, combined with his inability to win over the United States to his view.
TONY BENN, Labour MR Technology Minister 1966-70. Energy Secretary 1975-79. On the death of his father, Viscount Stansgate, in I960, he was barred from the House of Commons because he had inherited a seat in the House of Lords. He fought a rigorous battle to change the law on this issue, eventually succeeding. He was re-elected to the Commons and resumed his career.
Before 1914 Churchill was a radical. He introduced labour exchanges and nationalised British Petroleum; he was well to the left of today’s New Labour. His policies in the 1920s as Chancellor of the Exchequer were similar to those of the present. Had he died in 1931, he would have been regarded as a failure. In 1936 when I was 12, I heard him in the Commons warning about the Nazis. In my family there was great hostility to Chamberlain and admiration for Churchill. In 1940 he was an inspiration to everyone, as I remember very well; he was very modest in later saying that he only gave the lion’s roar.
In 1940 there was discussion about sending children to safety in America. My brother, aged 11, wrote to The Times, saying he would rather be bombed to fragments than to leave England; Churchill wrote to my father about this and sent my brother a signed copy of My Early Life. Later Churchill said that more peers were needed in government and my father, a Labour MP, agreed to go to the House of Lords.
I was returning home in a troopship in 1945 and heard his “Gestapo” speech; I knew that Attlee wouldn’t hurt a fly. I asked Churchill a question in the House, during his postwar premiership, about the atomic bomb. Attlee rebuked me, saying that I had no right to ask such a question without reference to him.
[Well before my father’s death] I wrote to Churchill asking him to help me in my efforts to remain in the House of Commons [when the time came to succeed him]. He sent an encouraging reply and I asked him if I could publish it; he refused, saying that as Prime Minister, he could not be quoted on this issue. On the day after his retirement I repeated my request and, by return of post, received a repetition of his earlier letter, with permission to publish. I only spoke to him once, when I thanked him for this action. He replied, “You must carry on.”
LORD CARRINGTON, junior minister in Churchill’s postwar government. First Lord of the Admiralty 1959-63. Foreign & Commonwealth Secretary 1979-82. NATO Secretary-General 1984-88.
Lord Deedes and I are the last two surviving members of Churchill’s postwar government; I was a junior minister and only went to Cabinet meetings twice. My family was Liberal Imperialist and agreed with Churchill on India, but this was against the general view and doubts about his judgment, reinforced by his stand during the Abdication, were dominant; to some extent he was mistrusted. Though most people were pleased when he became Prime Minister in 1940, Jock Colville (then Assistant Private Secretary at 10 Downing Street and my first cousin) made clear his trepidation at the prospect. It didn’t take him long to say he’d been wrong about this.
There was very great relief in my battalion that we now had a leader who was a fighter. Those alive at that time will never forget what we owed him. With his voice, his hat, boiler suit, face and personality, it was impossible to believe that we could be defeated. I was at Hythe on the south coast at the time and spent the nights on the beach; in my platoon I had 48 men and 3 1/2 miles of coast to cover. It never occurred to us that we might be defeated and I am sure that this spirit was due to Churchill. I thought we were in good hands. Those who are today critical of him were not alive then.
When I sat in the House of Lords after the war, I looked down at the Commons from the Peers’ Gallery, expecting that MPs would look quite different from ordinary people. I was disappointed to see that they did not— with two exceptions: Churchill and Ernest Bevin (who looked like a big, benign frog). Looking back, what a difficult time that was for Churchill in the face of an ungrateful electorate. His behaviour was remarkable.
A year later I became a whip in the House of Lords. One day Churchill, as party leader, came to lunch with the Tory whips; I looked at him in awe. He was either bored or in a bad temper or both. During the first two courses he never spoke. Then in came Bessie Braddock [an obese Labour MP]. Churchill looked and said, “Ah, there goes that constipated Britannia.” He was so pleased with this remark that he became a different person.
In 1951 it never occurred to me that I would get a government post, so I did not wait by the telephone; I went out shooting partridges. Then I was told that the Prime Minister wanted to speak to me on the telephone. He said, “I hear you are shooting partridges; would you like to join my shoot?” Can you imagine a Prime Minister today making such an invitation by telephone?
As a junior minister in the Ministry of Agriculture & Fisheries I once attended a Cabinet meeting at which derationing was discussed. Gwilym Lloyd George [the Food Minister] said it was impossible at that time. The Prime Minister replied, “We said we would do it and we will do it.” So we did, and everything went all right. This showed his determination. In 1954 the Crichel Down affair came to a head; this was a dispute between landowners and the need for mass production of food. Sir Thomas Dugdale (then Agriculture minister and my boss) resigned and I thought I should do the same. The Prime Minister sent for me. “Do you want to resign?” “No.” “Well, don’t.”
You could say that he stayed too long; who doesn’t (other than Harold Wilson)? Robert Menzies in Australia resigned and then regretted it, as he didn’t like his successors. My party has great disloyalty to its leaders, so a Prime Minister has to ignore this. There is a fashion now to judge people of a different generation by the thoughts of our own time. How can you think thus of people born nearly 130 years ago? Critics ignore this point.
When I was NATO Secretary-General, I visited Zurich. People think that in a speech there he advocated British membership of Europe. This is not so; he said that people should get together, but the United Kingdom would not herself be a part of any union—we had an empire. People do not understand that now. Of all the people I met, I admire him most. He did more than anyone to enable us to lead our lives now. I am happy I met him.
LORD DEEDES, junior minister in Churchill’s postwar government. Minister without Portfolio 1964. Editor of The Daily Telegraph 1974-86. Syndicated columnist, author of “The Lion in Peacetime,” Churchill Proceedings 1996-1997. Honorary member of CC/ICS.
One quality is underrated; I thought of it the other day in Martin Gilbert’s latest companion volume on 1941.1 was reminded that Wavell had said that the prime requirement of any general was mental robustness. That was a quality which Churchill had abundantly and it was an enormous factor in getting him and us through the war; it is rarer in politics now than in 1941. There were not many happy days in 1940-42. Churchill had to govern with a string of bad news and was also privy to disasters the rest of us knew nothing about; this was a supreme test of mental robustness.
Hardest to bear was the bombing and the consequent casualties. He visited Plymouth after four nights of bombing and was appalled at what he found; he was told that people would not be able put up with much more. He told Jock Colville, “I never saw the like.” Then there was the U-boat problem, which he knew could defeat us, problems of France (de Gaulle, Vichy, the French Navy), the threat of invasion and the need to rebuild the Army after Dunkirk for an ultimate return to Europe. After the Nazi attack on Russia, there were constant calls for support and for a second front. The House of Commons was critical, many of Churchill’s loyalists being absent in the services. The loss of Crete was a great blow to him and there was an urgent need to keep the United States on our side with aid.
There were nine constant anxieties, any one of which was a horror, and there was no relief at all. I can think of no time in history when a Prime Minister had such an unrelieved burden; by contrast, the burden of World War I had been shared. Though he devised his own recreation, it was not much. He enjoyed films, such as Lady Hamilton, meals and company; he kept eccentric hours.
King George VI was sometimes depressed and the Prime Minister had a weekly, frugal lunch with him. Churchill’s whole life had been a preparation for this threat to sanity. He had survived wars, such as Omdurman, and a set-back in the Dardanelles, after which he left the government to join the Army on the western front (initially with the Grenadier Guards, where he liked tea in condensed milk). But alcohol was available in the front line, so he wanted to go to the front line! He demonstrated mental robustness during the wilderness years, over the battle on India and in the fight for rearmament.
Few could have sustained the adversity of those 28 months [between taking office and the first sustained victories] and emerged triumphant. Some could, though they would have been less sensitive—and would have had no cat on the bed or pet canary. There was a very gentle side to his character which is rarely met, and tears came easily. So there was mental robustness as well as a kindlier side. He was not ruthless and had a sensitive temperament. No one has yet assessed what mental robustness meant to this country; he made us come very close to believing in Destiny.
LADY SOAMES, youngest daughter of Sir Winston Churchill, Patron of the Churchill Center and Societies. Author of Clementine Churchill, Winston Churchill the Painter, editor of Speaking for Themselves: The Personal Letters of the Churchills.
Iwould like to pick out two aspects of my father’s life: his character and his quality of naturalness, which was seen by his friends. He was very natural, lacking in hypocrisy, and the least pompous person. The public and private persona were very much the same, and this testifies to his oneness. His uninhibitedness and candour surprised those used to more guarded people.
I remember once accompanying him somewhere. I was in charge and told him we would be late. He fussed and looked at his “turnip” [pocketwatch]. We arrived and were quite unhappy at being late, but our hosts were understanding. My father went pink (a sign that he was being truthful) and said, “Most kind, but I started late.” This characteristic of unguarded spontaneity (which he came to be aware of) caused him to prefer a small group of the golden circle—close friends and family—and he was always wary of strangers.
He was blessed that the boundary between work and recreation was smudged. His life’s work was his zest for heroic action, and we were the lucky beneficiaries, though for a long time he took luck for granted. But the charm of being his bricklayer’s mate palled when I dropped heavy bricks. His love for animals was appealing. My memories are of a man with a zest for life, who never gave up his toys. I recall him in old age at Chartwell, sitting in front of buddleia bushes, watching butterflies; he knew all the species.
I would like to consider how we envisage him. No one can envisage him other than as an old man, seen as a legendary war hero and crowned with honour from his Finest Hour. I like to see him as a young man and to recall the sheer dash and daring of the young Winston. Though at Harrow he did not distinguish himself at games, he did win the public schools fencing championship. He was very fit due to his riding exercises at the Royal Military College and became an expert at polo. He had many brushes with death in India, Sudan, and in the Boer War, where his capture and escape made him frontpage news. This was all grist to his mill as a writer, though some saw him as bumptious and a medal hunter.
I am reminded of the effect the younger Winston could have on people. As an emerging politician the star quality already shone. This was recognised by Violet Asquith (then 19, later Lady Violet Bonham-Carter), who was used to the company of brilliant people, when she sat next to the 32-year old Winston at dinner: “Until the end of dinner I listened spellbound. I thought ‘ This is what people mean when they talk of seeing stars—that is what I am doing now.’ I knew only that I had seen a great light. I recognised it as the light of genius.”
At the time of his engagement, Lady Blanche Hozier [Clementine’s mother] wrote to Wilfrid Blunt: “He is so like Lord Randolph, he has some of his faults and all his qualities. He is gentle and tender, affectionate to those he loves, much hated by those who have not come under his personal charm.” Sir Edward Grey, referring to his reputation for talking too much, said “Winston very soon will become incapable, from sheer activity of mind, of being anything in a Cabinet but Prime Minister….He is a genius, whose faults will be forgotten in his achievements.”
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