Hitler as the Bad Boy of the European Family of Nations

For some historians, David R. Beisel will have attempted the impossible by endeavoring to illustrate that Europeans cooperated to bring about World War II. For historians there is no question that Hitler was the principal actor in the emerging confrontation of the 1920s and 1930s, but Beisel, in The Suicidal Embrace: Hitler, the Allies, and the Origins of the Second World War (Nyack, NY: Circumstantial Productions Publishing, 2003; 399 pp.; ISBN 1891592157, hardback; ISBN 1891592149, paperback, $18.00), builds the case for Hitler’s being unconsciously assisted by European diplomats, politicians, journalists, and ordi-

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nary people. In a very real sense, der Führer carried out their hidden dreams and frustrations.

Professor Beisel’s analysis is based upon a review of the roles of all the major European players who brought about the Second World War. The author starts out by dealing with the central issue at hand: that feelings and fantasies weave through and influence diplomacy. Right from the outset, he describes how European and non-European policy makers in the 1930s were deeply affected by their feelings.

The book displays an impressive knowledge of the sources and uses some remarkable David Lowe cartoons to good effect since they do so much to illustrate the dysfunctional family dynamics that Beisel describes and analyzes. It also contains an excellent set of footnotes and an extensive bibliography.

The author addresses the stress that many

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Europeans felt during and after World War I. This tension resonates with my own experience in Europe. I noticed the same sort of strain on the local level when I wrote about the village in Northern Italy where I grew up. The battles of WWI killed about 10 per cent of the farmers and more than that of the male farm hands, and the memory of the collapse and aftermath of the Austro-Hungarian Empire lingered in the village as a whole and in households and individuals. Just as Beisel describes for the broader European population in similar situations, the ordinary people in my region, who were all Germanic, felt betrayed for being “given” to Italy in 1919. Their feeling was matched by reality: they had actually been “let down” by politicians, like Wilson, who spoke of freedoms and national self-determination but then assigned them to a strange and former enemy country. The villagers had lived as Tyrolian Austrians since the 1230s, and after the World War I settlements were supposed to be loyal Italians! They were angry and vented their anger on the innocent young Italian teachers who came to teach them their new language.

Beisel continues with the fantasies that Europeans experienced about their body politic and how it could be healed or be in crisis, either as a whole or in its parts. Each of the states was seen as if it was a body part. Within the larger context, Europeans saw their states as organisms; especially Hitler spoke of the German state as such. Some contemporaries spoke of being threatened by various infiltrations, vermin and cancer being popular metaphors. In a similar vein, some saw member states as being born, absorbed, dismembered, and torn asunder. Thus, Czechoslovakia was seen as the new kid in the European family, that is, a state that was created at Versailles, only to be dismembered as Hitler was given permission, if not unconscious encouragement, by the Allies to do so.

In a different context, even though Hitler spoke of Germany being male, das Vaterland, he also spoke of it as if it were female, the land der Mutter, emphasizing its maternalness. Fatherland may appear as male on one level. That is, the land of father, but the article that moderates it is the neuter das, not the masculine der. It is a neutral entity and, thus, could be assigned to either gender. Land, which also means earth as in English, is thus perceived as neutral, being male or female, as fertile and lifegiving. Attacking the fatherland was thus not just about attacking a male but also a female entity. Contemporaries could thus speak of the incorporation of Austria into Germany in 1938 as the “rape of Austria,” an obviously improper act against this land. Interestingly, Beisel did not make much of the Anschluss, the more genteel phrase for this rape. It, too, is an image filled with fantasies. Historians have often seen this Anschluss as two rail cars being coupled, but the word derives from anschliessen, that is, to follow, as in a line of soldiers or shoppers, or to associate oneself. The word is closely related to einschliessen, as in to enclose or to embrace.

Professor Beisel follows this general explanation of the European family system with a very astute and careful discussion of each of the family members: Great Britain, Germany, France, Belgium, and Italy, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and the Soviet Union. The analyses of Britain and Germany are most satisfying; the discussions of the other European powers are equally intriguing but sometimes lack the same depth. Beisel’s treatment of England and Germany are gratifying because he could read the primary sources available from and about many of the key players, many of who had spoken and written about most of their thoughts and actions. In addition, subsequent authors have investigated almost every major English and German personality and every conceivable aspect of decisions and their background of the pre-war era. The same is not as true of the other leading European figures and their thoughts and decision-making processes. We are not as well served with information on them, perhaps because of a lack of interest on the part of the English-speaking and reading public in leaders other than those who already seem familiar. Thus, understanding Stalin, for example, appears to be quite easy on one level but on another we have all too little knowledge about the context of his upbringing in the Caucasus, the traumas of his monastery and Siberian prison experiences, and his later innermost thoughts. Stalin was not adept with the pen, thus leaving us little with which to work, and some of the key recent work on him continues to elude Westerners. Similar points can be made about Benes and other Central European leaders. Consequently, it is difficult to find the detailed evidence relevant to Beisel’s three underlying “needs” of the decision-makers of the 1930s.

The author’s three underlying themes in decision-making and their outcomes are: “the needs to be humiliated, to vicariously experience their own aggression, and to create a clear conscience” (p. 45). He excels not only at integrating

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childrearing patterns but also later life experiences and circumstances that led men to their adult needs. The last of these is definitely the one easiest to explain to historians in general. Yes, the leaders of the 1930s consciously did everything to avoid war. But Beisel looks at the reasons that persuaded leaders of the time to work at peace, for example, by allowing the German absorption of Austria and Czechoslovakia, and simultaneously to play into Hitler’s hands by allowing him, even encouraging him, to be the bad boy in the family. It is worth noting that many of the leaders embraced the beginning of the horror of the war with some relief as their worst fear was realized.

The Suicidal Embrace is a treat for historians and general readers who are open to understanding the psychological influences in the decision-making of the 1930s that led to the horror of World War II. Policy makers of our era would also benefit from reading it since doing so might help to prevent future horrors.

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