The Atlantic and Its Enemies

One vital part of the new order was a restored Germany. The London conferences in February-March and April-June had recommended this on 4 June. One great difficulty was with France: would her parliament accept this restitution of the hereditary enemy? The American Senate’s adoption of the Vandenberg Resolution on 11 June was reassuring: there would be an American presence in Europe to contain Germany, and the London recommendations went through Paris, though by only eight votes — one of the deciding moments of French history, in that the main danger was now recognized as Soviet, and the way forward, the elaboration of a pan-European system which the French would have a lead in managing. In July the German federal states were authorized to set up a ‘parliamentary council’ which would write a constitution. In this period the Allies received another great fillip. The Italian elections of mid-April 1948 were decisive, and the Communists lost. There were (and are) cries of ‘foul’, because of covert activity by CIA men such as Michael Ledeen or Edward Luttwak, who knew the country well. But there had already been the considerable counter-example of the Czech coup to deter anyone on the moderate Left from voting for the Communists, Marshall aid was at stake, and, besides, the Americans were in a position to save the Italian minority of Trieste from absorption in Yugoslavia. The Christian Democrats, under the European-minded De Gasperi, swept the board.

The Cold War took a further ratchet in Germany, and a configuration was then set, for the next two generations. ‘Trizonia’, now that the French (formally in April 1949) had included their zone in ‘Bizonia’, was being turned into a state, but this could not be done with the old Reich currency, which had become dramatically valueless. The whole economy was distorted, as banks could not operate with it, and a vast proportion of exchanges took place in the black market, with which by now all Germans were familiar. Controls existed on food prices but the result was that food vanished from the shops: sellers could not afford to sell at these giveaway prices, and the same was true for most other goods. As ever with inflations, cheats and parasites were rewarded; far from there being a social revolution in Germany, people with property were rewarded for just sitting on it, as it went up in value. But there would be no economic recovery — outside the black market — until the currency was reformed; at a British suggestion, this was undertaken, and in great secrecy new banknotes were printed for the Deutsche Mark. This turned out to be an enormous success, because shop windows all of a sudden were filled, at last, with goods.

Would it be extended to the western sectors of Berlin? All along there had been friction in the German capital, as the Russians attempted to force Social Democrats and Communists into a single party, which they could control. In the western parts of the city, a referendum at the end of March 1946 rejected it by an enormous majority. Early in 1946 there were still many people in the British administration who reckoned that they should just cut their losses and concede Berlin to the Russians, while building up their own zone, and even the American commander, Clay, who became a subsequent West German hero, was not sure. Late in 1946 there returned (from exile in Ankara) a remarkable soon-to-be Lord Mayor, Ernst Reuter. He and his rival Willy Brandt were strongly anti-Communist, having (like Bevin) had ugly experiences of their tactics, and even the Popular Front nostalgics in the SPD were silenced as the Soviet oppression and kidnappings went ahead. Besides, the British were having to pay ?80 million per annum for their own occupation zone, and Soviet reparations demands seemed designed to wreck the economy, or even to make the British pay more. The Western Allies could not give up Berlin if they wanted to remake a Germany of their own, and a British adviser, Alec Cairncross, was responsible for the new currency. On 20 June 1948, a Sunday, the new Deutsche Mark came in, the old Reichsmark was scrapped. Money savings were almost wiped out but each German got forty of the new Marks.

It was the signal for collision. By now western Berlin was seen by the Western powers as part of their own territory, and the currency was to be introduced there as well. The Soviet zone operated along entirely different principles, and there prices did not play the same part: such goods as were available were paid for in the old paper in any event, and prices were fixed by decree or Plan. The Russians protested against the process, and on 30 March began to make difficulties for Allied vehicles going to and from West Berlin. On 16 June they walked out of the Kommandatura, the joint body managing affairs for Germany, cut the railways on 23 June, and on 10 July closed the canals. Here, there was a difficult point, because there were no treaty arrangements as regards Western access by land to Berlin. There was, however, legally a right to passage by air, and there followed a remarkable episode. By air, with aircraft landing, skimming the rooftops, every few minutes, two and a half million people were fed and even heated by coal over eleven months by an Anglo-American effort. American warplanes, capable of delivering nuclear bombs, now reoccupied the wartime airfields in eastern England, and there were rumours of war. From full-scale war, Stalin shrank, and he never turned off Berlin’s water supply, which would indeed have caused the place to surrender. But he had done enough to make the Americans formally support the new military structure being set up at Brussels, and in the following year it was turned into NATO, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, with an American commander. There was almost no opposition to the demands for rearmament that were now heard in the United States. The ‘National Security State’ emerged, in later years much bemoaned, but at the time an apparently obvious outcome of the Soviet challenge.

In May 1949 the affair was uneasily settled. Stalin now half froze West Berlin. There were strict controls as to Allies’ access but traffic went ahead, and the half-city survived as an island. The West built it up, and turned it into an advertisement: it was artificial and heavily subsidized, but, because of its peculiar status, Germans wanting to escape to the West could easily just pass through Berlin, and millions did. In the end it became a slow-acting embolism in the entire arterial system of European Communism. In that sense the West had won.

Now there were better-organized Germans, and the Ruhr was working again. The European Coal and Steel Community became a much more practical step towards European unity than anything proposed by the British. They themselves, invited to join, refused. At the time, British miners’ wages were much higher, and the British were looking at different markets. They feared competition from lower-cost Continental coal (in practice, American coal was cheaper) and Bevin, when consulted, just said that the Durham miners would not stand for this. Later on, the British attitude to this emerging Europe seemed purblind, foolhardy. But Britain, with still strong imperial or ex- imperial connections, with exports booming, with an important position in Atlantic affairs and a sizeable force fighting in Korea, had solid interests elsewhere, and in 1951 very few people took developments in Europe with the seriousness that they, in hindsight, merited. No-one in 1950 foresaw the rapidity with which England would decline.

In practice the ECSC was not particularly successful. In a world of trade liberalization, it was at the mercy of imports, and, of all paradoxes, American coal imports were needed in Germany because the speed of her recovery meant that she needed all of her own coal. Much the same happened with metal: there was a ‘scrap mountain’ because it could not be sold at the cheap rates on offer elsewhere. The Korean War brought a boom for steel: 50 per cent of Belgian output was exported and, as the historian Alan Milward says, the ECSC ‘virtually collapsed’; without the formal creation of a European Economic Community later on, it ‘would probably have been unable to find a common course of action’. Another British commentator, John Gillingham, is even more dismissive. So was Jean Monnet himself. He recognized that the organization was not going anywhere, went to Luxemburg less and less, and faced attempts even to push him out. He did in fact resign in 1955.

There was another blind alley. What was to be done with Germany on the international level? France was divided; both Right and Left opposed any forward move. Nevertheless, a centrist government, at American prompting, went ahead. Monnet’s deputy, Rene Pleven, by now prime minister (though not for long) proposed another supra-national arrangement, a European Defence Force (it went back to 1950, and Monnet urged this in part because he wanted another iron in the fire during the lengthy and arduous negotiations over the ECSC). At first the idea was to delay German rearmament, but then came another ambition, to put German troops under French officers in a European Defence Community (EDC), in its way not dissimilar to the ECSC. On its own the EDC arrangement was hardly necessary. It was to be small, and would not operate independently of NATO; in any case in 1953, even before the treaty was to be ratified, the Americans had adopted a new strategic doctrine, that of enormous nuclear response to a Soviet attack, such that any European Defence Force (EDF) would only be of trivial importance. On the other hand, the EDF would be supported by a proto-government with four ministries and a great deal of money to spend on armaments — a European ‘military-industrial complex’ as President Eisenhower later called the American version. The foreign ministers of the six ECSC nations initialled this treaty in May 1952. The French socialists insisted on the EDC’s having a political supervisory body, and negotiations started for a European Political Community out of that, with the same paraphernalia as the ECSC. Defence budgets doubled in the first year of the Korean War (to $9bn) and in a ‘Mutual Security Program’ the US supplied defence aid as well, in fact not much less than the Marshall Plan itself. It was really the Americans who pushed for the EDC, and no-one was