Samuel Hoare in 1930s
Into the silence of the packed hall, Sir Samuel’s voice sounded clearly, his composure and self-control everything one would expect from Britain’s top diplomat.
In the hall below, sitting with the French delegation, Madame Bardoux listened to Sir Samuel’s opening remarks and thought, yes, here are the effusive self-congratulations that come so easily to the British these days. She listened as he said that Britain was moved by the great ideal of the League and the doctrine of collective security as the best way to secure peace.
In the gallery above, Madame Tabouis was startled by the bluntness of Sir Samuel’s next statement. He said that recent events indicated that war for the sake of war was fast becoming the new motive in European politics. Yes, she said to herself, this was the great change in international politics that was developing in 1935, the desire by some nations for national self-aggrandizement above all else.
Below, Madame Bardoux waited for the innocuous loophole in Britain’s support for collective security that she was sure was coming. Sir Samuel did not disappoint. “If the burden is to be borne, it must be borne collectively by all. If risks for peace are to be run, they must be run by all. The security of the many cannot be ensured solely by the efforts of a few, however powerful they may be.”
Alexis Léger leaned over to Madame Bardoux and whispered, “There, by making the statement so broad and all-encompassing, he has put the almost impossible condition of unanimity in place as the controlling limitation. British diplomacy can always forestall unanimity, as it has so many times since the war.”
Madame Bardoux nodded her understanding and made notes. Then she listened as Sir Samuel seemed to undercut Monsieur Léger’s words, as the foreign minister concluded, “For the collective maintenance of the Covenant in its entirety, and particularly for steady and collective resistance to all acts of unprovoked aggression…the British nation…and their Government hold with firm, enduring, and universal persistence.”
Léger again leaned over and whispered to Madame Bardoux, “Fine words. But what guarantees have we? The British statements lack precision.”
Then Léger turned back and looked into Madame Bardoux’s eyes and said with conviction, “As you go forward in your career, you will see that when circumstances get down to cases, the British skillfully argue that the general never guarantees the particular, and the particular never necessarily supports the general. The circle, lacking corners, may nevertheless become a square. Not very Cartesian.” Exasperatingly un-French, thought Madame Bardoux.
Up in the gallery, Madame Tabouis wrote down the foreign minister’s words. “My country will not shirk its obligations.” She concluded that the British national conscience had changed slowly but surely.
Down on the floor, Léger nodded at Prime Minister Laval and whispered to Madame Bardoux, “He will be pleased. Hoare never mentioned the dreaded word ‘sanctions.’ Eden has not prevailed here today.” Léger leaned back and listened to the final words.
As Hoare walked away from the lectern, Léger leaned over to Madame Bardoux. “The British tried to, shall we say, persuade Laval during private discussions that this would be a ‘test case’ and if the British did not get their way, they would lapse back into isolation. Now, Hoare has given Laval an opening to secure their public commitment to unconditional support against unprovoked aggression inside Europe. We will see.”
Laval came up to Léger and nodded towards the departing Hoare. “I am afraid the British policy is for this day only and does not represent a long-term commitment.” Léger nodded in understanding.
Laval turned and included Madame Bardoux in his conversation, summing up France’s situation. “International morals are one thing; the interests of a country are another.”
Madame Bardoux nodded in understanding: yes, she thought, the threat from Germany is France’s principal foreign policy interest. To this end, Italy is a necessary ally.
Across the great hall, delegates rose and moved towards the exits. Geneviève Tabouis headed for the enormous pressroom where dozens of telephone operators sat at switchboards that connected thousands of wires with every part of the world. Anxious reporters hurried in and began to phone their stories to newspapers around the world. It was a great marvel, the international telephone system that emanated out from Geneva, thought Madame Tabouis. How could peace fail when world opinion was now so intimately linked?
In the afternoon, Madame Bardoux returned to the Assembly and sat down with the French delegates, whispering, “I want to hear the Ethiopian delegate.” She looked towards the front of the vast chamber and watched as a tiny person, meek of face, dark of complexion, approached the tribune and made his plea for his country.
She was transfixed by the eloquence of the message. “We are a Christian people with very ancient traditions. Our sole aspiration is to live in peace and friendship with the whole world.”
He continued, “To any insults and attacks upon her independence we will reply in the calm strength of right and law. She identifies her own person with the League of Nations itself.”
The speaker next turned to the Italy’s attacks on his country. “The Italian government having resolved to conquer and destroy Ethiopia begins by giving Ethiopia a bad name.”
The speaker moved to confront an issue that Italy never failed to bring up. “We are reproached with slavery. Ethiopia did not invent slavery. She found it in that common fund of ancient institutions which is the heritage of the whole world. The patriarchal customs of earlier days often had a mildness and gentleness which enabled even those who were known as slaves to be better treated than those who in the modern world are described as free men though they are frequently crushed beneath the weight of mechanical life. But we understand that men must be free.”
The speaker continued, speaking almost personally to the delegates, “If it is desired to confer upon Ethiopia greater well-being, that will not be brought about by war.”
“The standardization of men and the uniformity of culture and civilization do not necessarily result in happiness.”
Madame Bardoux hurriedly took notes; Marcelle will be fascinated by the Ethiopian delegate’s speech, she thought.
The Ethiopian delegate concluded, “My nation has no fear of the light. It desires an impartial demonstration of the truth.”
Simply riveting, thought Madame Bardoux. The colonialists never see the wisdom of distant peoples different from themselves. Just their own supposed superiority. Yes, Marcelle will find Ethiopia’s case compelling, a voice from an ancient land speaking of the origins of future worldwide unrest and conflict. Yes, something out of Malraux.
Friday, September 13, Geneva. Pierre Laval strode up to the tribune of the Assembly of the League of Nations. He shuffled his papers and then began to speak. He quickly came to his point. “France is loyal to the Covenant. She cannot fail to carry out her obligations.” Laval then gave a brief of history of France’s unconditional support of the League since the war. Summing up, he said, “All our agreements with our friends and allies are now concluded through Geneva or culminate at Geneva.”
Alexis Léger whispered to Madame Bardoux, “Here he seizes the opportunity presented by Hoare in his speech.”
Laval deftly moved to his argument. “No country welcomed the words of the British Secretary of Sate with more satisfaction than did France. No country is better able to appreciate and to estimate the scope of such an undertaking. This partnership in responsibilities of all kinds, in all circumstance of time and place, a responsibility which is implied for the future by such a declaration, marks a date in the history of the League of Nations.”
Laval then offered soothing words to Mussolini, recalling Stresa, and stressing the many efforts made at conciliation. He concluded by pointing towards the thrust of France’s current approach to the mounting crisis. “The task is doubtless a difficult one, but I still do not think it is hopeless.”
Laval then thanked the delegates for their att
ention, picked up his papers, and strode from the stage.
Pierre Laval entered the private meeting room in the Palais des Nations. The dark velvet drapes were drawn. Lamps glowed in corners of the richly appointed room. Laval came up and grasped the outstretched hand. “Sir Samuel.”
Sir Samuel Hoare replied and indicated to Laval a chair at the small circular table. Laval sat down and Hoare followed, saying, “Now we can talk.”
“Yes.”
Sir Samuel opened, a touch apologetically. “I want to clear the ground with you and say that His Majesty’s Government regrets the manner in which the Anglo-German naval pact was concluded. We would prefer that it had not happened.”
Laval pleasantly responded, “Your comment is graciously received.”
Sir Samuel changed tone and subject, saying, “We need to discuss the conditions under which Britain and France shall assist each other in case of aggression against one of them.”
“I quite agree. Italy is of course the subject.”
“Of course. Let me set forth a hypothetical case of aggression by Italy against British interests in the Mediterranean.”
Laval decisively responded, “You have France’s formal assurance that if the British fleet were attacked the French naval forces would come to its assistance immediately.” Laval placed the gravest emphasis upon the word “immediately.”
Sir Samuel listened attentively, very pleased that France would come to Britain’s assistance immediately in the present case, but also understanding that France would expect Britain’s immediate assistance somewhere else at some future time—a much more troubling situation for Britain. Laval was wily. The French were like that.
Laval continued, “As you know, I asked France’s ambassador in London about the future British attitude in cases of aggression in Europe generally and for Austria in particular.”
Sir Samuel leaned back, sighed, and became thoughtful. He responded, “Britain intends henceforward to honor the spirit and the letter of the Covenant along the lines indicated in my speech.”
Laval looked on intently. “Yes?”
Sir Samuel then continued, “Austria? Little Austria sits between Italy and Germany. Currently, Italy is its protector. If that were to change, it would be difficult to see what sort of credible guarantee Britain could give. Or France for that matter. It is Italian troops at the Brenner that keep the Germans out.”
Laval thought for a moment and replied, “Yes. But if Hitler grabs Austria for Germany, that would break the land chain from France through Southern Europe to our allies in the East. Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Russia would be separated from the West.”
Sir Samuel hesitated and said, “A possibly regrettable development.” He knew where Laval was going.
Laval put forth his point. “Keeping Italy in the Stresa Front with France and Britain is key to European peace.” Laval let the words sink in, and then continued, “We may need to make large compromises on Ethiopia in Africa to safeguard peace in Europe.”
Sir Samuel understood the argument—it was a good one—but he now repeated his government’s position, “The British people are deeply committed to collective security through the League of Nations.”
Laval nodded. Morals and principles again.
Sir Samuel thought to himself that Laval had passed up the more immediate case: re-militarization of the Rhineland. Interesting. Possibly Laval was too wedded to his “chain to the East?”
Sir Samuel returned to the present and moved to the next item on the agenda. “Soon, the Italian war machine is going to be launched at the heart of Ethiopia.”
Laval nodded in agreement and then made his point, “When that happens, then the League of Nations’ procedure must take its predestined course. In particular, the issue of sanctions against Italy must be carefully considered in its application.”
Sir Samuel agreed. “Non-belligerent sanctions to start. Economic pressure.”
Laval replied in a word, “Precisely.”
Sir Samuel’s shoulders sagged and he wearily replied, “Sanctions will involve difficulties too numerous to enumerate.”
Laval said, “Yes. But sanctions should be applied with a view of pressuring Italy towards settlement, not war. Sanctions must not be seen as an inevitable step towards war, but towards settlement. Pressure and conciliation are two sides of the same policy.”
Sir Samuel nodded.
Laval stood up saying, “I look forward to your formal reply to the question of acts of aggression in Europe.”
Sir Samuel, his face tired, nodded his understanding at one more chore not to his liking. He stood up and the two men walked to the door.
Monday, September 16, rue du Cherche-Midi, Paris. Marcelle Lambert entered the small dress shop carrying a valise. An older woman came up and Marcelle asked, “I have been told by my friend Suzanne Bardoux to ask for Irène.”
“Yes, Madame.”
Presently an attractive young woman entered and held out her hand. “A friend of Madame Bardoux’s?”
Marcelle smiled. “Yes, Marcelle Lambert,” and she set the valise down and shook Irène’s hand. She continued, “I have a dress with me—it’s years old—and I was hoping to re-cut it into something more contemporary. I am going to the Opéra with a gentlemen next month,” and she laughed, “and I haven’t done that in years, so I need a dress not hopelessly out of fashion.”
Irène was somewhat astonished since the woman standing before her was quite attractive. She said, “Here. Let’s go into the fitting room.” She showed Marcelle into a small dressing room.
Presently, Marcelle came out with the dress on. Irène looked over the silk dress with practiced eye and said, “Madame, it is a beautiful dress.”
“Yes. My family have been silk merchants in Lyon for generations.”
Irène walked around, now and again taking in some cloth and holding it, putting what was before her into some new vision that built on the old. Then she started in earnest, pulling cloth, pinning here and there. Marcelle watched the transformation take place in the mirror in front of her.
Marcelle said, “You work miracles.”
Irène stood back, looking, and asked, “What do you think?”
Marcelle replied, “Quite nice. Let me suggest a little bit more here?”
Irène came over and tucked a little in, pinning it, and then stood back.
Marcelle tilted her head, looking intently at the image in the mirror, and smiled, “And maybe a little here?”
Irène tucked and loosened a little, and then pinned it and stepped back, and looked forward into the mirror, commenting, “Madame, you have a good eye.”
Marcelle said, a little wistfully, “Once, yes.”
Irène finished up. “I can have this ready for your fitting next week?”
“That will be fine,” and she went into the little dressing room to remove the dress. She returned and handed the dress to Irène, thanked her, and walked back to the Matignon thinking about the work before her. The 1936 budget was going to the Council of Ministers Saturday morning for approval before being submitted to the Chamber of Deputies next month. The work was endless.
British embassy, Rome, Monday evening, September 23. Sir Eric Drummond, British ambassador, spoke to an aide outside his study, “Please have the third secretary stand by to send a cable to London. It will be ready within the hour.” The aide nodded and walked down the hallway.
Sir Eric entered his study and went over to a desk busy with papers. Deeply shaded floor lamps at each end of the desk cast warm yellow pools of light. He sat down and pulled forward a pad of paper. He set a pencil down next to the pad. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head and reflected, collecting his thoughts.
Yes, he thought, the humiliation of the Italian army by the Ethiopian tribesmen at the Battle of Adowa in 1896—almost half the Italian army had been killed in one of only two defeats of white troops by Africans in the entire century—had led to frustrated colonial ambitions. Mussol
ini now used something that should have been forgotten as fuel to fire something new in the present that should not be occurring.
And of course the First World War came up. Long talks today with Italian officials had brought up the black injustice of Italy having lost over a million men dead and wounded but receiving only crumbs at the Peace Conference. Crumbs, crumbs. Injustice burned deeply. And the Italians always brought up slavery in Ethiopia as an issue to justify their “civilizing mission.”