The Great Depression (61 page)

But it was a Pyrrhic triumph. By moving the provincial Liberal party to the right and away from its traditional source of support, Hepburn effectively destroyed it and, in the process, made room for the CCF’s eventual move into the vacuum.

On the day the Oshawa strike ended, Mackenzie King left Ottawa to attend the Coronation of King George VI in London, to confer with Neville Chamberlain, the British prime minister, and to arrange a meeting with Adolf Hitler in Berlin.

Accompanied by Joan and Godfroy Patteson, he sailed for England on the CPR’s sleek
Empress of Australia
, occupying Suite 140, the finest on the ship – the one in which the former Prince of Wales had travelled on his visits to Canada. In spite of the presence of his closest friends, King felt an indescribable loneliness. “Some evil spirit seems to have entered into my house of rest & peace to destroy both,” he wrote. The evil spirit, no doubt, was responsible for the incessant jazz music, which King couldn’t abide and which seeped into his room from the ballroom, disturbing his sleep. He much preferred the motion pictures shown to the first-class passengers:
Rhodes – Builder of Empire
(though he found himself “in little sympathy with the Empire-making side of the performance”), and
A Tale of Two Cities
, with Ronald Colman, which he found “a marvellous movie – the unrest of the French Revolutionary Times. Like today in some respects.”

At the Coronation in Westminster Abbey, his puritan sensibilities were offended by the costliness of the vestments worn by nobles and clergy. The heavy embroidery, he thought, contrasted unfavourably with the simple garments of the fishermen of Galilee; the spirit of Christ was being overlaid by the materialism of the times. “Indeed it was only too apparent that without wealth or
position, no one could gain admission to the Abbey service or a place there. A great contrast to the scenes of Christ’s ministry on earth!”

In June, he attended a small private dinner party given by Neville Chamberlain for the Dominion prime ministers. Anthony Eden, the foreign secretary, was also present. When King told Chamberlain and Eden that he had seen Joachim von Ribbentrop, the German ambassador, and arranged a meeting with Hitler in Berlin, both men heartily approved. Germany, Chamberlain said, was more likely to listen to King than to anyone from Britain. Eden thought the Germans would look upon him as speaking not only for Canada but “also to some extent for the United States” and would be much impressed by what he had to say.

King was anxious to tell Hitler “of my desire of his continuing constructive work among Labour, and not permitting it to be outdone by destructive work.” He intended to make it clear that Canadians would not stand for aggression and that if Germany became aggressive “she would find it impossible to hold back our country or any of the Dominions.” A statement like that, Eden told him, would help more than all the dispatches in the world to preserve the peace in Europe.

Nonetheless, King was careful to inform the British politicians that Canada had no intention of being drawn into a European war unless Germany or some other country was the aggressor. That would be “like expecting us to jump into a bag of fighting cats.” He was careful, also, to underscore the voluntary nature of any Canadian involvement. Even then, the Canadian prime minister foresaw that conscription might jeopardize Canadian unity.

He left the dinner with the feeling that the British were “wholeheartedly working for the peace of Europe and are likely to be wise and sane in their attitudes.” For Chamberlain he had “the greatest admiration and the greatest confidence.”

In Berlin, King met first with Britain’s ambassador to Germany, Sir Nevile Henderson, who asked if he might accompany him to the interview with the German dictator. King resented the suggestion; he told Henderson that “you people in the Old Land never seem to get an understanding of the point of view of the Dominions, or what is best in their own interests, in relations with other countries.” The last thing King wanted was to have the Germans believe that he was under the wing of the British and
that Canada couldn’t handle her own international relations. Henderson immediately backed off.

The British ambassador was badly afflicted with the virus of appeasement. Austria, he explained to King, was largely German; Czechoslovakia had a large German minority; Germany had her need to expand, and if Britain tried to prevent her moving peacefully into those countries, it would be a great mistake. King, on his part, agreed that Britain should not act “as ‘a dog in the manger’ re: Germany’s legitimate development.”

Henderson believed England could learn a lot from Germany in the treatment of the masses. Nazism wasn’t all wrong, he told King. The German people were happy and had a right to live under any system they wished. Henderson spoke of the League of Nations as “a horror”; collective security “was worse than meaningless, a real danger.”

King’s diary entries during his days in Germany are remarkable not for what they say but for what they
don’t
say. In his scribbled musings King could be remarkably prickly. His references to the British, especially the aristocracy, as well as to some of his own countrymen, such as Vincent Massey, were often tinged with asperity or, as in the case of Bennett and some other political opponents, with real venom. And yet, in the twenty-eight pages that cover his four days in Berlin, in which he met and talked with Hitler, Göring, Neurath, and a host of minor Nazi officials, there is scarcely a suggestion of reproof, let alone disgust or anger at the totalitarian and viciously racist program that held the German people in its thrall. King not only accepted passively and without comment the patent nonsense that was spoon-fed to him but he also, apparently, believed much of it, while his personal assessment of the Nazi leadership bordered on the sycophantic.

King told the British ambassador that he wanted to speak with Hitler “about his work on behalf of the people.” Henderson was enthusiastic. Hitler, he said, was really an idealist who had the people’s welfare very much at heart. If King could make Hitler feel that he, a Canadian, had an understanding of the German people, it would go farther than anything else to improve relations with the Reich. King left with the conviction that he had done the right thing “in the interests of Canada and the Empire in coming to Berlin at this time.”

Two days later, King met the German dictator. Hitler told him, “… my support comes from the people – the people don’t want war.” That impressed King very much – “a real note of humility” he wrote later. Hitler continued to emphasize that “you need have no fear of war at the instance of Germany.… We know what a terrible thing war is, and not one of us want to see another war.” This was pure hogwash; Germany that year was actively preparing for war. But Hitler, who had successfully tranquillized diplomats more worldly than King, covered his intentions with a thick varnish of sweet reason that impressed the gullible prime minister.

“Let us assume that a war came,” the dictator mused. “What would it mean? Assuming that France were to get the victory [over Germany] … what she would find would be that European civilization had been wiped out. But suppose we were to win the war? … We would find exactly the same thing. We would have obliterated civilization of both countries, indeed of a greater part of Europe; all that would be left, would be anarchy.…” The interview, scheduled for half an hour, went on for more than twice that length, with Hitler quietly explaining the aspirations of his people and the German government’s sincere desire for peace. King was hoodwinked. When he thanked the dictator for giving him so much time, Hitler “smiled very pleasantly and indeed had a sort of appealing and an affectionate look in his eyes.” King sized him up as “really one who truly loves his fellow men and his country, and would make any sacrifice for their good. That he feels himself to be a deliverer of his people from tyranny.”

Hitler’s personality charmed King as it charmed so many other visitors. “His face is much more prepossessing than his pictures would give the impression of. It is not that of a fiery over-strained nature, but of a calm, passive man, deeply and thoughtfully in earnest …; his eyes impressed me most of all. There was a liquid quality about them which indicates keen perception and profound sympathy.… One could see particularly how humble folk would come to have a profound love for the man.”

Ribbentrop’s liaison man, Walter Hewel, an intimate of the Führer, filled King’s head with a lot of twaddle about his master, duly reported in the diary. Hitler didn’t want to be treated as a deity, Hewel said. “He dislikes any of them thinking of him as anything but a humble citizen who is trying to serve his country.…”
He was deeply religious, Hewel insisted, believed strongly in God, and during his tenure more Christian congregations had been established in Germany than in many years preceding. The outside world had misrepresented his religious views; all he wanted to do was keep the blood of the people pure. “He is particularly strong on beauty, loves flowers,” Hewel told King, “and will spend more of the money of the State on gardens and flowers than on most other things.”

King accepted all this without comment and went on that afternoon to learn something about the “Strength Through Joy” youth movement. “I found all these young men very frank, very alert, clean looking, active minded, enthusiastic,” he wrote. “There was a splendid order and efficiency about everything I saw.” At the opera that night – Verdi’s
A Masked Ball –
he was impressed by the fact that the people came from love of music rather than shallow social reasons. “Dress was conspicuous by its absence.” Between acts he talked to a member of Hermann Göring’s staff, who “spoke about secret forces at work to bring about better conditions after this period of stress and strain.” The opera over, King returned to his hotel feeling that this, perhaps, had been the most significant day of his life.

He saw Nevile Henderson the next day and found that the British ambassador shared his impression of Hitler. Henderson complained that the English kept finding fault with him for stressing anything good about Nazism, and reiterated his belief that Germany should be allowed to expand by degrees without interference from England. “It seems to me particularly fortunate that Henderson is Ambassador at the present time,” King commented.

King followed this with a call on the German foreign minister, Baron Konstantin von Neurath, who declared solemnly that “as long as I am at the Foreign Office, there will never be war on Germany’s account.” Neurath spoke of how the country had been “going to pieces” when Hitler took over. For much of that he blamed the Jews. “He said to me,” King wrote, “that I would have loathed living in Berlin with the Jews, and the way in which they had increased their numbers in the City, and were taking possession of its more important part. He said there was no pleasure in going to a theatre which was filled with them. Many of them were very coarse and vulgar and assertive. They were getting
control of all the business, the finance, and had really taken advantage of the necessity of the people. It was necessary to get them out, to have the German people really control their own City and affairs. He told me that I would have been surprised at the extent to which life and morals had become demoralized; that Hitler had set his face against all that kind of thing, and had tried to inspire desire for a good life in the minds of young people.”

If King took exception to this racist diatribe there is no evidence of it in his diary. Indeed, the context suggests that he agreed with much of it. What Neurath was saying about Berlin wasn’t very different from what King himself had written about the Jews taking over an Ottawa suburb. This, after all, was the man who didn’t want Jews as neighbours and who was always disgusted by what he considered to be vulgarity and coarseness – epithets that anti-Semites all over the world, including Canada, were using to support their version of the Jewish stereotype.

The Nürnberg laws had been in existence for almost two years when King visited Berlin. Jews could no longer be German citizens, couldn’t marry Aryans, and couldn’t employ Aryan servants. By this time they had been so rigorously excluded from public or private employment that half of them had no means of livelihood. They were forced to wear an identifying Star of David that barred them from entering a grocery store, drugstore, bakery, or dairy. Nor could they get a night’s lodging in a hotel. Taunting signs forbidding them entry were everywhere. King must have seen these or known of them.

Nonetheless he quoted his host’s remarks without comment and proclaimed himself delighted by his charm and hospitality. After Neurath insisted that they be photographed together, King was pleased to receive a copy of the picture in a silver frame. This discussion was followed by a luncheon party that King judged “one of the pleasantest I have ever enjoyed. The whole environment was most attractive; no one could have been kinder than the host. I felt in von Neurath’s attitude something of the same kind of paternal attitude that I have experienced with Sir William Mulock and some older men.”

The entire German visit overawed King, who misread all the signs and portents in that doomed country. “I can honestly say it was as enjoyable, informative and ever inspiring as any visit I have had anywhere,” he exclaimed. Everything about Germany
seems to have entranced him, including the appearance, manners, and outlook of the people, who appeared to him to be more like Canadians than were either the British or the French. What others feared in Germany, King was persuaded, was that German ideas of liberty and equality for the masses might spread out into their own lands! As for regimentation, though one didn’t like it, “it is apparently the one way to make views prevail.”

He could not believe that the German people would ever revert to a purely materialistic way of life; the country was undergoing a revolution, fuelled by idealism. “I have come away from Germany tremendously relieved. I believe there will not be war.… The one danger to all countries is the Press; through its misrepresentations and persistent propaganda, some incidents will arise which will occasion conflict.”