On June 18th, 1940, the day that a stunned world learned that the French government had decided to lay down its arms and seek surrender terms from Nazi Germany, British prime minister Winston Churchill went before the House of Commons to warn the British people that what had been termed “the Battle of France” was over, and that “the Battle of Britain” was about to begin. “Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian Civilization,” he famously continued, for “Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war”. He then urged his fellow countrymen to gird themselves for the coming struggle, confident that “if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, ‘this was their finest hour’.”
The six weeks that encompass both the fall of France and the beginning of Churchill’s tenure as prime minister in the spring of 1940 remain one of the most dramatic moments in the history of the 20th century. Much of Churchill’s reputation as a war leader is built upon this period, when, in the face of the seemingly overwhelming superiority of German arms, he insisted that Great Britain would “never surrender”. In light of what was at stake, it is not surprising that the striking power of Churchill’s rhetoric – best captured in the three major speeches he delivered during these dark days – has earned him an almost mythical status; a leader among leaders with the power to inspire an entire generation to stand up to what he rightly called a “monstrous tyranny”.
Churchill’s ability to marshal the English language and rally the British people with the promise of “blood toil, tears, and sweat,” is only one aspect of his wartime leadership, however. It is easy to forget, as Churchill put it some years later, that his public addresses and persona were “not the chief part” of his leadership. Churchill also made many – in his mind “all”– of “the main military decisions”. Given Churchill’s penchant for theatrics, his role in shaping British military strategy has been somewhat obscured by his colourful and larger-than-life personality. Yet there can be no question that Churchill – for better or for worse – was deeply involved in directing the war. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Allen Packwood’s remarkable new book, How Churchill Waged War.
Critical moments
Each of the 10 chapters are dedicated to examining a critical moment of the conflict. Packwood uses his unparalleled knowledge of the Churchill Archives – an institution that he has led for more than 20 years – to give us a realistic picture of Churchill’s “manner, motivation, and method of waging war”. His goal, as he notes in the introduction, is to “strip away the layers of hindsight and let the contemporary documents speak”; to follow the debates and discussions as they occurred; and gain a greater understanding of how critical decisions were made. “The figure that emerges is more political, often more conflicted, less omniscient, more consultative though not always more considerate, inevitably more human …and much more interesting than the icon.”
Packwood begins by exploring the reasoning behind Churchill’s decision to become minister of defence as well as prime minister. This move gave Churchill greater control over the war effort but also carried great political risks, as it meant identifying him more directly with any failure on the battlefield. Given the burdens involved, it also meant that Churchill would need to delegate the running of domestic matters to others – a decision that would come back to haunt him at the end of the war in Europe when he decided to call an election.
In an age of Brexit... Packwood's window into the machinations of the cabinet room makes for extremely interesting reading.
As detailed in the final chapter of the book, it naturally fell to the Labour members of Churchill’s coalition government to handle the home front – an arrangement that played to the strengths of these ministers and “benefitted the coalition as whole”. But with the end of the war in sight, and the British public’s attention turning more towards the social and economic requirements of peace, the Labour Party found itself campaigning from a position of strength, and Churchill’s Conservatives suffered a humiliating defeat. The irony, of course, is that it was Labour’s support that had placed Churchill in office on May 1940, and Labour that would bring an end to his premiership five years later.
Packwood’s examination of Churchill’s relationships with Roosevelt and Stalin is equally revealing. Here we learn of Churchill’s frustration with the slow pace of American assistance in the six months following the fall of France and barely concealed resentment at the cash-and carry provisions of US neutrality laws, which by December 1940, had all but stripped Great Britain “to the bone”. To secure further payment in the face of Great Britain’s potential bankruptcy, FDR suggested that American warships embark the British gold reserves on deposit in South Africa, a request which led Churchill to give vent to his anger in an unsent message that compared the president’s action to a “sheriff collecting the last assets of a hapless debtor,” before signalling his assent.
Roosevelt’s determination to fashion a close relationship with Stalin and eschew Churchill’s call for the development of a coordinated Anglo-American strategy in their dealings with the Soviet dictator is well known. So too, is Churchill’s angst at being bypassed by the president when the big three first met at the Tehran Conference. But as Packwood demonstrates, FDR was not alone in his desire to develop an independent relationship with Stalin. Churchill also wanted to discourage any idea that the US and UK were ganging up on Russia, and in his October 1944 conversations with Stalin, made clear his desire to affirm and strengthen his country’s bilateral relations with the Soviet Union.
This perspective stands in sharp contrast to the subsequent view – highlighted during the Cold War – that Churchill’s decision to travel to Moscow in the fall of 1944 was based solely on his desire to forestall Soviet control of the Balkans and secure a British sphere of influence in the eastern Mediterranean. It was also about the reassertion of British power in the face of potential American opposition, an attempt, as Packwood says, “to sideline the Americans while securing a free hand from the Soviets” in a region that Churchill felt was vital to British interests.
One of the most instructive chapters concerns Churchill’s decision to fire Gen Sir Claude Auchinleck, the commander-in-chief of British forces in the Middle East in August of 1942, a move that Packwood attributes to a host of complex factors, including Churchill’s determination to maintain the British hold on wartime strategy and face down the American demand for a second front in France during the same year. Packwood also examines Churchill’s decision to endorse the Atlantic Charter and embrace the concept of unconditional surrender; his response to the fall of Singapore; his concerns about the Normandy landings; and how Churchill – who began his tenure as prime minister at 65 – survived illness and pressure.
Packwood’s examination of Churchill’s decision-making process offers us an intimate – and at times critical – portrait of one of the most important figures of the 20th century. We get a sense not only of the vital role that Churchill played in leading the British side of the Allied war effort, but also a sense of the man, as he struggled to come to terms with the inevitable rise of Soviet and American power. In an age of Brexit, when Britain’s role in Europe and the wider world is undergoing similar uncertainty, Packwood’s window into the machinations of the cabinet room makes for extremely interesting reading. How Churchill Waged War is well-written and illuminating. It is an excellent contribution to the history of the second World War and the meaning of leadership at a moment in history when the future of liberal democracy was under siege from populist forces far more pernicious than those that Europe and the West face today.
David B Woolner is senior fellow of the Roosevelt Institute, professor of history at Marist College, and author of The Last 100 Days: FDR at War and at Peace
