Exile in London

The Experience of Czechoslovakia
and the Other Occupied Nations, 1939–1945

Vít Smetana – Kathleen Geaney (eds)

Published by Charles University,

Karolinum Press

English language supervision by Kathleen Geaney

Cover and layout by Jan Šerých

Typesetting by Karolinum Press

First English edition

© Charles University, 2017

© Vít Smetana, Kathleen Geaney, individual authors, 2017

ISBN 978-80-246-4523-0 (epub)

ISBN 978-80-246-4522-3 (kindle)

ISBN 978-80-246-3732-7 (pdf)

ISBN 978-80-246-3701-3 (print)

CONTENTS

1. Introduction

3. I. The Existence and Challenges Faced by the Exile Governments in London

4. Limited Influence: the British and the Governments-in-Exile of Poland, Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia (Detlef Brandes)

5. Belgium in Exile: The Experience of the Second World War (Chantal Kesteloot)

6. A Cold Shower in International Reality: Redefining the Dutch International Position 1940–1945 (Albert E. Kersten)

7. Between Scylla and Charybdis: The Polish Government-in-Exile’s Position with Its Allies and in Poland, 1940–1945 (Anita J. Prażmowska)

8. From Re-Emergence to Uncertainties: The Changing Position of Czechoslovakia in London throughout the Second World War (Vít Smetana)

9. The Factors Shaping the International Political Status and the Foreign Policy of the Czechoslovak Authorities in Exile, 1939–1945
(Radosław Paweł Żurawski vel Grajewski)

10. Polish and Czechoslovak Governments-in-Exile (and the Impact of Soviet Foreign Policy) in Russian Historiography (Victoria V. Vasilenko)

12. II. The Armed Forces of the Occupied Countries and their Political Significance

13. Together into Battle: The Armies in Exile: Considerable Value or “a Drop in the Ocean”? (Zdenko Maršálek)

14. The Yugoslav Armed Forces in Exile: From the Yugoslav Royal Guard Battalion to the Overseas Brigades (Blaž Torkar)

15. “The Most Difficult Country”: Some Practical Considerations on British Support for Clandestine Operations in Czechoslovakia during the Second World War (Mark Seaman)

17. III. Preparing in Exile a Post-War Solution of the Minorities Question

18. Was There an Alternative to the “Transfer” of German Minorities from Czechoslovakia and Poland during the 1939–1944
Discussions on Post-War Europe by the Governments-in-Exile? (Jan Kuklík – Jan Němeček)

19. Citizenship and Property Rights of “Our Germans”: The Development between 1943 and 1945 of the Legal Status of Germans in Post-War Czechoslovakia (Matěj Spurný)

20. The Czechoslovak Government-in-Exile and the Legacy of Population Transfers: An Analysis of the English Language Discourse (Martin D. Brown)

21. The End of the International Protection of Minorities under the Auspices of the League of Nations (René Petráš)

23. IV. Propaganda and Education in War-Time Britain

24. Bruce Lockhart, British Political Warfare and Occupied Europe (Richard Overy)

25. “Anything that is dear to their hearts”: Czechoslovak History and Culture in the London Broadcasts, 1939–1945 (Erica Harrison)

26. Walking on Egg-Shells: The Czechoslovak Exiles and Anti-Semitism in Occupied Europe during the Second World War (Jan Láníček)

27. Truth Conquers… Political Pamphlets of the Czech and Slovak Opposition versus Edvard Beneš and the Czechoslovak Government-in-Exile (Dušan Segeš)

28. Looking for French, Anglophile or Soviet Inspiration? The Diplomatic Struggle for the Post-war Orientation of Czechoslovak Education and Culture (Doubravka Olšáková)

30. About the Contributors and Editors

INTRODUCTION

Three quarters of a century ago, during the Second World War, the common state of the Czechs and Slovaks existed, from the legal point of view, only in the United Kingdom, where its government-in-exile resided. For the long and arduous six war years, the same was true for Poland. The governments of four Western nations (Norway, Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg), as well as those of Greece and Yugoslavia, were moved to London after their countries had been occupied by Nazi Germany in 1940–1941. The capital of Great Britain thus in a way became the capital of free Europe as well.

The individual national stories naturally differed, both in general aspects and in details. Yet, a number of interesting parallels between them can be drawn. Just to mention one example: unlike the other governments, that of Czechoslovakia was created in a revolutionary way, achieving de jure recognition from the host country only in July 1941. Yet, it was still undoubtedly a remarkable success for the Czechoslovak representatives to attain this status, especially when compared to the failure of the Free French to achieve similar recognition.

Intensive research conducted in the archives, especially in the last three decades, has enabled us to observe and study the story of the European exile in London from a more detached and a more historical perspective. We are thus now in a position to wage a more profound debate not only about the political and military issues, but also about the various economic and social aspects of the individual stories of the governments-in-exile as well as about everyday life in the exile in general. To avoid national self-centrism, the Czechoslovak case needs to be analyzed in the international context and particularly in comparison with the cases of other countries whose governments found refuge in London.

To stimulate and abet such a debate, the British-Czech-Slovak Historians’ Forum invited leading scholars in the field to a conference that took place in the Czernin Palace, the seat of the Czech Ministry of Foreign Affairs, from 6 to 7 June 2013. It was preceded by the annual Bruce Lockhart Lecture delivered by Richard Overy, on the topic of British Political Warfare and Occupied Europe, symbolically in the Thun Palace, the seat of the British Embassy in Prague. The conference itself was divided into five panels in which more than 20 historians from nine countries focused on various aspects of exile politics, the importance of armies-in-exile, the preparation of the post-war solution for the issue of minorities as well as the problem of media, education and propaganda in exile.

Eighteen participants eventually delivered their chapters for this volume while the special lecture by Richard Overy is also included. Of course, the authors could profit from the vast array of relevant literature on the topic of the exile, from which at least the collective monograph Europe in Exile, published in 2001, must be mentioned.[1] On the other hand, the research has moved forward further in the last one-and-a-half decades since that book was published. In particular, the authors of the current volume could make use of the large quantity of newly-released documents in their efforts to answer some crucial and intriguing historical questions. Their chapters thus seek the common characteristics and differences in the origin and structure of the individual exile representations in London, the ways in which the governments-in-exile dealt with their pressing social and economic problems and, of course, several of them strive to set the measure in which the governments-in-exile were able to influence crucial allied diplomatic negotiations.

There is no doubt that the Polish, Yugoslav and later also the Czechoslovak exile leaders failed to achieve their primary war aims as the introductory chapter by Detlef Brandes clearly demonstrates and those by Anita Prażmowska, Vít Smetana and also Radosław Żurawski vel Grajewski all but underline. But were they the only “losers” or can any similarities with the fate of the Western statesmen-in-exile and their plans be observed? The chapters by Chantal Kesteloot and Albert Kersten on the Belgian and Dutch exiles respectively help to draw a more colourful picture of the alleged “winners” and the others. Victoria Vasilenko, for her part, adds an important chapter on how the story of the exile has been treated by historians. It is all the more significant in that it deals with the ways that Russian (and Soviet) historiography has treated the topics of the Polish and Czechoslovak exiles, whose fate the Soviet Union had once affected so dramatically, in the politically most turbulent last three decades – that is from the glasnost period in the late 1980s to the Putin era.

The book Europe in Exile contained several chapters focusing on the role the military forces of several countries played in the exile. Another study of the topic, called Exile Armies, appeared three years later.[2] In contrast, this volume offers a truly comparative chapter by Zdenko Maršálek that assesses the relative importance of not only armies, but also of all the strategic commodities and equipment which particular governments-in-exile were able to offer for the allied war effort. Moreover, Maršálek’s chapter clearly demonstrates how some of the problems faced by the exile representations, such as the problem of achieving maximum effectiveness from small armed forces, are topical even today, within the framework of current allied forces. This comparative view is fittingly supplemented by Blaž Torkar’s detailed chapter on the Yugoslav armed forces in exile and their political importance, since probably no other country represented such a divergence of changing governments-in-exile and their (as well as Allied) attitudes to the resistance structures at home. The resistance activity in the occupied countries themselves was at least equally as important for Allied warfare as the military units in exile were. Yet, to achieve real efficiency, this had to be supported by the governments-in-exile in cooperation with the pertinent British authorities who provided weapons, ammunition and logistical support. The chapter by Mark Seaman represents an interesting probe into this broad topic as it points out the various practical problems entailed in British support for clandestine operations in such a far-away country as Czechoslovakia.

One of the major war aims of the Czechoslovak government-in-exile was to prevent the internal disintegration of the state in the future. The preparation of the post-war solution for the issue of minorities is thus deservedly a topic of three chapters. Those by Jan Kuklík with Jan Němeček on the one hand and by Matěj Spurný on the other differ slightly in their conclusions, thus reflecting the fact that discussion on this sensitive topic continues. Martin Brown’s chapter assesses the ways this theme has been treated by English language historiography while René Petráš’s brief contribution, the only one which is not devoted to exile problems, sets the issue into the historical context of the inter-war treatment of minorities.

Four chapters (those by Richard Overy, Erica Harrison, Jan Láníček and Dušan Segeš) deal with various aspects of propaganda, thus appositely demonstrating how significant this weapon was deemed to be not only by the exiles themselves but also by the British for the overall Allied war effort. The process of preparation for the post-war orientation of the liberated country in the important fields of education and culture is then covered in Doubravka Olšáková’s chapter.

Of course, not all the national stories are adequately dealt with in this book, not to mention all the important themes. Still, the authors hope that the variety of the topics that really are covered as well as the quality of their treatment will prompt further discussion on the overall exile phenomenon, perhaps not limited to the Second World War, and might thus serve as a further incentive for intensification of research in the area in the future.

Vít Smetana

1 Martin Conway – José Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile: European Exile Communities in Britain 1940–1945 (New York – Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2001).

2 Matthew Bennett – Paul Latawski, eds., Exile Armies (Houndmills, NH – New York: Palgrave, 2004).

I. THE EXISTENCE AND CHALLENGES FACED BY THE EXILE GOVERNMENTS IN LONDON

LIMITED INFLUENCE: THE BRITISH AND THE GOVERNMENTS-IN-EXILE OF POLAND, CZECHOSLOVAKIA AND YUGOSLAVIA

DETLEF BRANDES

In this chapter, I provide a comparison of the British influence on three governments-in-exile and examine to what extent the British government used its power to promote its views.[1]

THE COMPOSITION AND POLITICAL ORIENTATION OF THE THREE GOVERNMENTS-IN-EXILE

Though the British government had great influence on the composition and political orientation of the Polish, Czechoslovak, and Yugoslav governments-in-exile, it used its power resolutely only in the case of Poland. Together with the French it forced a change of government from the pre-wartime Sanacja movement to a broad coalition of the former opposition parties with some moderate politicians from the old regime included. On three occasions Britain vetoed the removal of the Polish Prime Minister, General Władysław Eugeniusz Sikorski: once in June 1940 after the loss of the greater part of the Polish army in France, again in July 1941 during negotiations with the Soviet Union on the re-establishment of diplomatic relations, and, finally, in April 1943 after the withdrawal of the Polish divisions from Soviet territory. Britain not only relied upon Sikorski’s popularity within Poland itself and on his competence and efficiency in government affairs, but also on his willingness to compromise with the Soviet Union. After his death it accepted the appointment of General Kazimierz Sosnkowski, a follower of Piłsudski, as Commander-in-Chief of the Polish army, since it wanted to avoid a crisis similar to that which had occurred in the Greek and Yugoslav armies, and, on the political front, backed Stanisław Mikołajczyk, leader of the Peasant Party, whom it was expected would also make concessions to the Soviet Union.[2]

In the case of Czechoslovakia, Edvard Beneš asserted himself despite opposition from France and partly also from Britain because of his many supporters among the political émigrés. The Slovak Milan Hodža, who had won a reputation as a proponent of far-reaching confederation plans for Eastern Europe, was not consistently supported by the British, despite their own confederation plans. Behind the façade of the Czechoslovak government and the so-called State Council, Beneš systematically built up a dominant position. This was only challenged by the Communists following the first Soviet military victories. The British government did not champion any of his competitors and was surprised when the official institutions of the Czechoslovak exile lost their internal political balance. A belated attempt to use the Foreign Minister, Jan Masaryk, as a conservative counterweight to the pro-Soviet orientation of the Czechoslovak government-in-exile and State Council failed because of his weakness and indecisiveness.

The Foreign Office defended General Dušan Simović, the symbol of Yugoslav resistance and sacrifice for the Allied cause, against the attacks of the King, the queen mother, and his fellow ministers only until January 1942. Although King Peter and the Yugoslav government, shaken especially by the Ustaša terror within occupied Yugoslavia, depended totally on British support, the Foreign Office hesitated to confront the clique of ministers, diplomats, and officers with Great Serbian inclinations and did not force through a new cabinet ready for attempts at conciliation in the national conflicts and at social reforms. Instead of demanding such a new cabinet, it was content with a series of half-hearted changes in the composition of the Yugoslav exile apparatus. Annoyed by the internal dissensions among Yugoslav politicians, the British eventually in August 1943 accepted a government of civil servants whose most important members had made their career under the dictatorship of Peter’s father, Alexander. The Foreign Office stuck to this solution, even though a group of younger politicians had just united against the Serbian and Croatian extremists and offered a democratic alternative. Only in July 1944, which was much too late, was a government headed by the moderate Croat, Ivan Šubašić, appointed.[3]

With the westward advance of the Soviet armies, British influence on the three governments-in-exile diminished. It could only achieve the temporary inclusion of some democratic ministers in the new Yugoslav and Polish governments dominated by the Communists. On the other hand, Beneš anticipated Soviet wishes and appointed in Košice in eastern Slovakia a new government, in which Communists occupied almost one third of the ministries.[4]

GREAT BRITAIN AND THE EXILE ARMIES

Britain expected the governments-in-exile to recruit troops abroad and to support and control the resistance movements in their occupied home countries. In both respects the Polish government maintained a big lead over the other governments-in-exile. When the war began, it could rely on a colony of Polish workers in France and on the military units which had fled to Romania and Hungary following the lost September campaign. Upon Soviet entry into the war, the Polish government could also mobilize some of those prisoners of war and civilians who had been deported to the Soviet Union following Soviet occupation of eastern Poland.

The Czechoslovak army-in-exile was significantly smaller. Up until June 1941 it suffered from the refusal of the former fighters in the Spanish Civil War to take up arms in a so-called “imperialistic war on both sides.” The British had of course no influence on the Czechoslovak units organized from 1942 on Soviet soil or on the Polish division mobilized after the departure of the Anders Army in late 1942. The Polish and Czechoslovak units in the West were engaged by the British in Africa, Italy, and Western Europe. Their pilots played an important role in the “Battle of Britain.”

As the Yugoslav government did not succeed in evacuating at least part of the Yugoslav army prior to the sudden capitulation in April 1941, its forces were extremely small. They were filled with Slovene prisoners of war who had Italian citizenship. The Yugoslav units disintegrated when their Serbian officers protested against Simović’s dismissal and when the British military authorities in Cairo supported the mutineers. The Yugoslav prisoners of war liberated by the Allies on Italian soil already expected the victory of the communist partisans and refused to submit to the discredited Yugoslav government.[5]

BRITAIN AND THE RESISTANCE MOVEMENTS

Only the Poles succeeded in forming an “underground state” with a governmental delegation, a political representation comprising the main parties, and an underground army. The Political Warfare Executive supported the resistance movements with propaganda over the radio; the Special Operations Executive delivered radio transmitters, money, some weapons, and transported parachutists to the resistance, though the governments-in-exile all complained about the insufficient scale of British help. Poles and Czechs were able to establish independent radio links with their homeland, but the British refused to grant the Yugoslavs an uncontrolled code. As a result, the Yugoslav government could not confer confidentially with its Minister of Defence, Draža Mihailović. With British acquiescence, the three underground armies should have confined themselves to acts of sabotage and saved their valuable squads for a general uprising shortly before the withdrawal of the Axis forces, but the uprisings in Warsaw, Central Slovakia and Prague led to defeats with terrible casualties. Since the Ustaša regime were practising a policy of wholesale expulsions and extermination, and the communist partisans were actively fighting to liberate some regional areas, the units of the Yugoslav home army, i.e. the Četnici, could not wait for an Allied Balkan invasion. The British and Yugoslav governments proclaimed General Draža Mihailović leader of the rebellion in Yugoslavia and the government-in-exile appointed him War Minister. Through this policy they became dependent on one of the competing parties, and what was more, of the Serb nationalist movement. British attempts to influence Mihailović’s strategy directly and through military advisers failed. Though they quietly accepted Mihailović’s collaboration with Italy, they demanded acts of sabotage especially against German lines of communication. Only after the defeat of the Četnici in the Battle of the Neretva in the spring of 1943 did the SOE switch to an initially cautious but later strong support for the partisans. Its effect on the policy of the successful and self-confident Communist Tito, however, was limited.

BRITAIN AND THE POLICIES OF THE GOVERNMENTS-IN-EXILE TOWARDS THE SOVIET UNION

Following the military successes of the Soviet armies, British influence on the governments-in-exile diminished. Relations between Poland and the Soviet Union were not only burdened by centuries of conflict, but also by the Soviet policy of repression and deportation in its occupation zone during the years 1939–1941, the treatment of the deportees in the vast areas of the Soviet Union, and the quarrel over the future common borders. Under British pressure, the Polish government sought to normalize relations with the Soviet Union after 22 June 1941 by building up a Polish army and welfare organization on Soviet soil. This new start was hindered not only by traditional Soviet distrust of any autonomous movement, but also by British policy. Britain withheld the promised equipment and arms for the Polish eastern army. Initially it demanded a transfer of the Polish divisions to the Caucasus in case of a Soviet collapse and later it wanted to dispatch these divisions to the Near East in order to strengthen its own troops. Sikorski’s attempt to steer a middle course by transferring only part of the eastern army was thwarted by an agreement General Władysław Anders and Churchill made with the Soviet leadership.

The British knew that Sikorski was prepared to conclude a compromise with the Soviets with regard to Poland’s former eastern provinces, but it did not press him into an early decision so as not to undermine the fighting morale of the Polish troops. The situation changed when the Soviet leadership broke off diplomatic relations with the Polish government, in reaction to the public controversy over the discovery of the corpses of Polish officers near Katyń, and formed the core of an alternative government. Now Great Britain exerted growing pressure on the government-in-exile to recognize the Curzon line as the Polish eastern frontier. As compensation, Churchill offered the Poles extensive territorial gains in the north and west as far as the Oder and Western Neisse including Stettin. When Mikołajczyk finally yielded, his colleagues in the government forced him to resign. Beneš, however, agreed with the British policy of avoiding anything that could endanger relations with the Soviet Union. Already in 1939, he had hinted to the Soviet ambassador in London that he would be prepared to cede the Carpathian Ukraine to the USSR.

THE PLANS FOR THE TRANSFER OF GERMAN MINORITIES[6]

During the Battle of Britain the disposition of the British public to a radical punishment of Germany increased and included support for a territorial reduction of Germany and the expulsion of Germans from Czechoslovakia, Poland, and the German provinces in the east. Eden’s visit to Moscow in December 1941 produced a change also in the policy of the War Cabinet towards questions of nationality in East-Central Europe. Stalin had called for the return of the Sudetenland to Czechoslovakia, the cession of East Prussia to Poland, and the annexation of Istria and Venezia Giulia by Yugoslavia. After his return to London, Eden asked the Foreign Office Research and Press Service to draw up special studies on the question of the German-Polish, the German-Czechoslovak, and the German-Italian-Yugoslav borders, with only secondary attention to be paid to ethnic factors. If the conclusions suggested a need for population transfer, the Service was to submit a second paper based on the Greek-Turkish precedent, and also on the resettlement of the Baltic Germans by Hitler. Earlier in January 1942, the Service had argued that a confederation consisting of Poland after the loss of its eastern territories, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and possibly Austria, if it was to survive without Russian help and be in a position to stand up to post-war Germany, could come into being only if it were strengthened by the addition of East Prussia, Upper Silesia, and the Sudetenland. The Greek experience after the First World War suggested that Germany could cope with a large number of expellees – the figure reached was three to 6.8 million – so long as the transfer was extended over a period of five to 10 years.

In the negotiations between Britain and the Soviet Union after December 1941, the opinions of both countries with regard to the so-called “transfer” of the Germans from East-Central Europe converged. The Foreign Office, however, did not succeed in its efforts to induce Beneš and the leader of the Sudeten Social Democrats to reach a compromise over the question of the scale of the transfer. In July 1942, the British War Cabinet agreed in principle to the transfer of German minorities to Germany after the war. After that decision Beneš resumed his conversations with Wenzel Jaksch. The exiled leader of the Sudeten German Social Democrats accepted Beneš’s proposal to expel part of the German population on the basis of their collaboration with the occupiers. At the same time, the British ambassador warned Beneš against applying the criterion of war-guilt on an individual basis, since the resulting number of expellees might be too small. After protracted negotiations, London saw no possibility of changing Moscow’s determination to impose a new Polish border at the Oder and the Western Neisse. Of course, other national minorities such as the Ukrainians, Hungarians, and Italians also suffered under the policy to create ethnically homogenous states.[7]

Although the Yugoslav government counted on the expulsion of the German and Hungarian minorities, its main goal was the “liberation” of the Croats and Slovenes residing on pre-war Italian territory. Since the dominant Serb ministers warned against too far-reaching territorial claims, the memorandum on the issue was submitted to the allies only in July 1943, but by then it was not taken into consideration because of the declining influence of the government-in-exile relative to the successes of the Partisans.

BRITAIN AND THE CONFEDERATION PLANS

British endeavours to induce the Yugoslav government to commit to the federalization of Yugoslavia after the war failed due to the stubborn opposition of the Serb ministers, which was strengthened by concern over the massacres in “Greater Croatia.” At the beginning of the war, the Chamberlain government doubted whether Czechoslovakia should be restored, and accepted the French proposal to recognize a “National Committee” instead of a government-in-exile. Vis-à-vis Churchill’s government, Beneš reached further stages of recognition without any concessions to the Slovaks. The Foreign Office did not support those Slovak politicians who called for the postwar federalization of Czechoslovakia, especially since Slovak troops fought on the Axis side against the Red Army.

The British government, diplomats and political advisers had come to the conclusion that developments in Eastern Europe during the inter-war period had proved that the states of East-Central and South-East Europe should join together in two confederations in order to form a barrier against renewed German and possible Soviet aggression. This proposal was supported by the Poles without reservations, while the Yugoslav Foreign Minister, Momčilo Ninčić, used the plan as an instrument in the inner-Yugoslav power struggle. The Czechoslovak government made its consent conditional on good Polish-Soviet relations. The Greek government, for its part, was only prepared to form a loose union with Yugoslavia. When the Soviet minister made clear to the governments-in-exile that Moscow rejected any confederation plans, Beneš and Ninčić made up their minds to travel to the Soviet Union. They wanted to dispel Soviet misgivings and to conclude treaties of friendship and mutual cooperation with Moscow in the hope of averting future Soviet interference in the internal affairs of their countries. The Foreign Office succeeded in dissuading Ninčić permanently and Beneš for the time being from their intentions. When the Soviets also turned down Beneš’s proposal to conclude at least parallel treaties of assistance with Poland and the Soviet Union, Beneš confined himself to a plan to reach agreement on a 20-year treaty of friendship, collaboration, and mutual assistance with the Soviet Union which would be open to the future accession of Poland. The Polish counter-proposal of a quadrilateral pact which would include Poland and Great Britain was abandoned by the British Foreign Secretary at the conference of Foreign Ministers of three Great Powers in Moscow in October 1943. Nevertheless, it opposed Beneš’s plan, which allegedly would have led to the creation of spheres of influence in Europe and to the isolation of Poland. In October 1943 Eden gave up his opposition to Beneš’s projected trip to Moscow to conclude the treaty. After the conference at Teheran, it became more and more clear that British plans for the future of East-Central and South-East Europe could not be realized in the face of Soviet resistance and without strong American support. As a result, during the Warsaw as well as the Slovak uprising, Britain provided little help, since both states were de facto already situated in the Soviet sphere of influence.

1 The paper is based on my study Großbritannien und seine osteuropäischen Alliierten 1939-1943. Die Regierungen Polens, der Tschechoslowakei und Jugoslawiens im Londoner Exil vom Kriegsausbruch bis zur Konferenz in Teheran (München: Oldenbourg, 1988). It was translated into Czech under the title Exil v Londýnĕ 1939-1943. Velká Britanie a její spojenci Československo, Polsko a Jugoslavie mezi Mnichovem a Teheránem (Praha: Karolinum, 2003). Since this chapter is to a great extent a very short summary of my books with 607 and 566 pages respectively, I will add footnotes only when I quote other publications.

2 Eugeniusz Duraczyński, Rząd Polski na uchodźstwie 1939-1945. Organizacja, Personalia, Polityka (Warszawa: Kziążka a Wiedza, 1993), pp. 240–242.

3 Dragovan Šepić, Vlada Šubašića (Zagreb: Globus, 1983).

4 Toman Brod, Osudný omyl Edvarda Beneše 1939–1948. Československá cesta do sovĕtského područí [The Fateful Error of Edvard Beneš. Czechoslovakia’s Road to Soviet Domination] (Praha: Academia, 2002).

5 Detlef Brandes, “Slowenische Exilpolitik zwischen Jugoslawien und Mitteleuropa 1941–1945,” in Historik na Moravĕ. Prof. Jiřímu Malířovi k šedesátinám (Brno: Matice Moravská, 2009), pp. 555–572.

6 Detlef Brandes, Der Weg zur Vertreibung. Pläne und Entscheidungen zum “Transfer” der Deutschen aus der Tschechoslowakei und aus Polen (München: Oldenbourg, 2001 and 2005). In Czech: Cesta k vyhnání 1938–1945. Plány a rozhodnutí o „transferu“ Nĕmců z Československa a z Polska (Praha: Prostor, 2002).

7 Detlef Brandes, Holm Sundhaussen, Stefan Troebst, eds., Lexikon der Vertreibungen. Deportation, Zwangsaussiedlung und ethnische Säuberung im Europa des 20. Jahrhunderts (Wien – Köln – Weimar: Böhlau, 2010).

BELGIUM IN EXILE: THE EXPERIENCE OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR

CHANTAL KESTELOOT

During the Second World War, Great Britain welcomed several governments-in-exile and numerous refugees.[1] Even though it was not the only country to act as a host, it was probably the most emblematic. As for Belgian civilians, it was their second flight to Britain as had been the case in 1914–1918. This time, however, the government also crossed the Channel in search of a safe haven. The following text describes the situation of both the refugees and their exiled leadership.

A FIRST EXPERIENCE: THE FIRST WORLD WAR

The German invasion of 1940 was not Belgium’s first war, nor its first experience of exile. Indeed, German forces had also crossed the Belgian border in August 1914. This violent attack caused widespread destruction and fear, forcing more than one million people to flee: “Upwards of 400,000 refugees fled from Belgium to the Netherlands in the first three months following the outbreak of war. This was only the beginning of an enormous upheaval. An estimated 200,000 Belgian refugees arrived in France in the aftermath of the German invasion. Around 160,000 refugees remained on British registers at the end of 1916, this number dropping only slightly before the war ended.”[2] Half of the August 1914 refugees had returned home by the end of the month or early September. More than half a million Belgians, i.e., 10 percent of the total population, nonetheless, spent the war years abroad, having no possibility of repatriation before the 1918 armistice. This event left deep wounds in the psyche of the nation and also involved having to come to terms with other cultures, customs, languages and religions. Britain had been rather welcoming towards the Belgian refugees, since Belgium had acquired an aura of heroism (“Brave Little Belgium”) and was seen as the victim of unjust treatment since its neutrality had been violated and because the Germans had massacred civilians during their invasion (“Poor Little Belgium”).

This attitude of friendliness slowly evolved, modified during the war. In 1914, the refugees were clearly “at the heart of the discourse which opposed barbarians to civilized peoples”[3] and served as a strong incentive for mobilization. As time passed, a change became visible in the structures for aid distribution. These were private at first, but, as the initial enthusiasm waned, were gradually replaced by government programmes. The situation was comparable in the Netherlands and in France.[4] One of the interesting characteristics of private and public relief policies is the correlation between humanitarian relief and social stratification. During the summer and early fall of 1914, numerous local relief committees were founded to help the refugees. However, the estimated 2,500 active associations in Britain at the early stages of the war decreased in number as the conflict persisted. The ways in which relief was administered largely reflected 19th century social divisions, both regarding the refugees and the host countries. In other words, help for refugees from the upper and middle classes was not the same as that for the lower classes.

As the war continued, the necessity to find suitable occupations for the refugees became prominent. In the summer of 1914, no one expected a long war. At the time, Britain was grappling with a high unemployment rate and it was out of the question that refugees would compete with British workers on the job market. This situation improved steadily, first with an upturn in economic conditions that required additional labour, and then with the implementation of the Military Service Act, which came into effect in March 1916, and made single British men aged between 18 and 41 liable for military service. Two months later, in May, this was extended to include married men. By mid–1916, around 50,000 Belgian refugees were working in Britain. Integration, however, was not easy since labour cultures were totally different. Before long, the presence of Belgian refugees was believed to pose a threat to the British social protection system. The exiles, meanwhile, had become more organized; in certain cities they even occupied entire neighbourhoods, and had their own businesses. Sharing native space with non-natives in the long term, however, revealed strong dissimilarities which increasingly turned the stay of the refugees into a burden. This first experience is paramount to an understanding of how British society reacted to Belgian exiles when the Second World War broke out.

THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR ON THE WESTERN FRONT

The second German invasion took place on 10 May 1940 and was followed by the Belgian capitulation 18 days later. The King, like his father, decided to remain in Belgium, but the country’s submission had created an entirely different context. During the First World War, King Albert remained head of the army, and Belgium was at war with Germany during the four years of hostilities. The Belgian government remained in exile in Le Havre in France for the duration of the conflict. The memories of the massacres of 1914 were very much alive in May 1940 and the Belgian population fled in huge numbers from the second German attack. From one-and-a-half to two million people sought refuge in France, most of whom went back home between July and September, while the rest remained, either willingly or because of the impossibility of returning to Belgium. Again, some refugees crossed the Channel: in the summer of 1940, around 15,000 Belgians arrived in Britain, a small figure compared to the 250,000 who came in 1914.

Besides Britain, the United States, mainly New York City, was chosen as a destination (especially by industrial and financial groups but also by members of the Belgian government-in-exile and by Jewish families). On top of that, around 1,000 Belgian Jews escaped to Portugal.

While the number of Belgians who sought sanctuary in Britain was much smaller than during the First World War, they were nevertheless the largest refugee community in the United Kingdom. According to figures from the Home Office, Britain hosted 22,758 refugees in October 1940. Of these, 14,500 were Belgian, 3,164 Polish, 2,250 French and 1,657 Dutch. Of course, the quantity of wartime refugees must be compared to the 250,000 who had arrived before.[5]

Having learnt from her previous experience, Britain was better prepared for the influx of refugees. This time different scenarios had been anticipated, the authorities having estimated that up to 500,000 refugees from Belgium and the Netherlands would arrive. This figure was later scaled down to 100,000, but, naturally enough, the social and financial consequences of the sudden appearance of such a number on British soil was feared. With the surrender of the Dutch army five days after the German invasion, the estimates turned out to have been largely exaggerated.

For those who made the journey across the Channel, the British government had no alternative but to provide welcome, while at the same time dreading the prospect of large-scale migration, especially of needy refugees. As had happened during the First World War, a certain amount of class solidarity again came into play, with the poor being confronted with more obstacles than the wealthy, who were often hosted by their British counterparts. In order to relieve the pressure on the British Treasury, the business of meeting and helping the new arrivals to adjust to their new life was once more handed over to local voluntary organizations.

Of the approximately 15,000 Belgian civilians who arrived in Britain, most had been deprived of everything, having either been unable to take their belongings with them or having lost what they had on the way.[6] The majority stayed in London, at the so-called reception centres. The group was far from homogenous. The vast majority (63 percent) were Flemish women, children and older men, and two main social groups emerged: civil servants (3,000) and fishing communities. Among the first to come was the Belgian merchant marine. On 17 May 1940, the entire Belgian fishing fleet (507 vessels) had been requisitioned by the Belgian government and ordered to evacuate the coast. The old fleet had been seized and destroyed by the Germans in 1914, but by 1940 a new one had come into being, up to date, well equipped and motorized. Fifty percent of the ships arrived at British shores, from which one half were assigned to the fishing trade, and the remainder taken into service by the Royal Navy.

Another feature that distinguished WW2 refugees from those of the previous conflict was that the later arrivals benefited more from structures established by the Belgian authorities themselves. Both the parliamentary office (created in July 1940) and the Embassy helped smooth some of the bureaucratic hurdles faced by the newcomers. There was, nevertheless, a large degree of amateurism and chaos in running the operation.

Once more, the issue of refugee employment had to be considered. However, on this occasion the expectation was that the conflict could last for years, so the problem was tackled immediately. Unfortunately, as in 1914, Britain had a high unemployment rate and was again in the middle of a financial crisis, and, not surprisingly, the British authorities preferred to give work to their own citizens than to foreigners. On the other hand, in 1940, the Belgian authorities themselves decided to create positions for the refugees. The task was not an easy one, particularly so because London was often bombarded. Providing accommodation posed additional problems as there were very few places of refuge left. Since most of the refugees were women and children, it was decided to move them away from the capital. After the autumn of 1940, because of the Blitz, only one third of the Belgian refugees remained in London, the rest having been transferred to other districts in Britain. The question of work in the new, safer havens had now to be resolved. This matter had progressively become a priority for the British authorities, too. A scheme was launched to make jobs available for the refugees but this of course was partially hindered by the language barrier. However, general mobilization came into effect in April 1941, and, by May 1943, 80 percent of the men and 40 percent of the women were employed. Clearly, the more successful handling of the problem this time around was also the result of the Belgian government’s presence. The question of work was high on the agenda with the arrival in Britain of the chief Belgian ministers in late October 1940. The Service Central des Réfugiés, which came into being on 21 September 1940, slowly included within its remit the provision of health, education and jobs for Belgian nationals. By degrees, associations giving moral and spiritual support were also initiated. The exiled community was becoming increasingly organized, with access to schools, libraries, English courses, and sporting activities, as well as social gatherings such as the celebration of Belgian National Day, placed on a much firmer footing. Needless to say, the upturn in refugee life was reflected most among those who stayed in London or in areas where there were sufficient numbers to create a sense of togetherness.

EXILED GOVERNMENTS AND POLICY-MAKERS

Among those who left Belgium for Britain in the early summer of 1940 were anti-Fascists who had opposed Belgian neutrality, Socialist Party members, and officials of the Socialist Trade Union, who had links with British unions in the framework of the international trade union movement.[7] Included in these groups were Camille Huysmans, who had protected Jewish and German anti-Fascist refugees during the 1930s, Isabelle Blume, who had been active during the Spanish Civil War, and Max Buset, future head of the Socialist Party after the liberation of Belgium. These members of left-wing circles organized rapidly and were fully committed to backing the British war effort. The “Office des Parlementaires belges” was founded on 22 July 1940, essentially formed by socialist and progressivist liberals. Exile had acquired a quality of political activism. At the same time, most members of the Belgian government were scattered throughout in France, under two minds about whether to return to their occupied country or throw in their lot with the British. The German Führer, however, soon prohibited the first option by a decree issued on 18 July 1940. Undoubtedly, the situation was very different from what had prevailed in 1914–1918.

Marcel-Henri Jaspar, the Belgian Minister of Health, was the only minister who travelled to London in June 1940. He joined Camille Huysmans in creating a “shadow government.” The British, however, were reluctant to recognize the Jaspar-Huysmans arrangement. In this context, the arrival in Otober 1940 of de Vleeschauwer, the one Belgian minister with legal powers outside Belgium itself, was a turning point. As Belgian Minister of the Colonies, de Vleeschauwer could have brought the Congo over to the British side, but he hesitated to do so. Moreover, he had been asked by Prime Minister Hubert Pierlot to join the other Belgian MPs in Vichy. De Vleeschauwer was close to the King and not very enthusiastic about abandoning what he considered the realm of legality to take part in a “governmental adventure” with left-wing politicians. On 15 August 1940, the Belgian MPs in London openly pledged their solidarity with the British by means of a manifesto. The text mentioned the strategic importance of the Congo, which the authors clearly wished would benefit the Allies, and objected to a separate peace. This stance was unambiguously perceived as a criticism of the royal capitulation of 28 May. Being the only Belgian minister with legal powers outside of Belgium, de Vleeschauwer, together with Camille Gutt who came to London soon afterwards on his own initiative, was able to form a temporary “government of two” with British approval. However, both Gutt[8] and de Vleeschauwer were concerned with the legitimacy of their actions and preferred to await the arrival of the other ministers, namely Paul-Henri Spaak and Pierlot,[9] who had been detained in Spain en route from France to London. Pierlot and Spaak reached London on 22 October 1940, thereby marking the start of the “government of four,” and providing this “official” government with the authority of Belgium’s last elected Prime Minister. Their work was at first centred on the four key ministries of the war period: Colonies, Finances, Defence, and Foreign Affairs. The British had been distrustful of many of the Belgian ministers, as well as of the legitimacy of the governement itself. However, with the advent of the Prime Minister, the new state of affairs, albeit grudgingly, was accepted.

The priority of the Belgian government was to appear convincing and to gain credibility after the events of the summer. They had a number of strategic assets to offer but needed political standing. The fact that King Leopold III had remained in Belgium further complicated the situation. Other countries had sent both their governments and their heads of state to London. It was also important to win popularity in occupied Belgium, where the presence of the King was, at least for the moment, considered reassuring.

The difficulties facing the Belgian government-in-exile were therefore fourfold: to satisfy the British authorities, and more broadly the Allies, as to its legitimacy and determination, to win over the Belgian people, to maintain cohesion and dynamism in the ministerial group, and to assure the Belgian exiles of its concern regarding their fate and well-being.

Time was favourable with regard to furthering acceptance and legitimacy in Belgium,[10] but the whole business was exhausting. The ministers were only four in total and each had a considerable workload. Indeed, the number of tasks to be performed soon became impracticable and in early 1942 they decided to hire sub-secretaries of state, a post which had not formerly existed in the Belgian legislature. Most of the other ministers had remained in France but were expected to join their colleagues in London and take up office. By early 1941, however, it became clear that this was no longer an option from a political point of view. The situation was of course exceptional, but in practice they ceased to serve as ministers. Their portfolios were therefore shared among the four already in London and later also by the sub-secretaries. Meanwhile, another minister who had remained in occupied Belgium reached London and became Minister of Propaganda and Justice. Other nominations were also made and by the spring of 1943 the government would count 12 members in all.

RELATIONS WITH OCCUPIED BELGIUM AND THE (HOMELAND) RESISTANCE

During the first months of the war, communication between London and occupied Belgium was scant. The government-in-exile was frowned upon at first but this view modified as the war progressed. In the autumn months of 1940, Britain’s bold stand against Hitler was admired by many Belgians.[11] Yet, by and large, information was limited to what was transmitted by radio. Indeed, in early September 1940, the BBC had begun to broadcast 15–minute news bulletins to Belgium twice daily, but, from July 1940, listening to these programmes was strictly forbidden.[12] The aim of the BBC reports was to counteract German propaganda strategies and to make the governmentin-exile’s decisions known to those at home, although the Belgians in London were not always satisfied with the tone and the news items selected. Clearly, the government wished to have the media under its own control. With the establishment of Radio nationale belge in October 1942, however, the Belgians had access to the air waves themselves.

Research has shown that the importance of the Belgian broadcasts from London was more imaginary than real. The number of listeners actually decreased during the war (40 percent initially but less than 25 percent by liberation) as German jamming became more effective from the end of 1942. In addition, Radio-Bruxelles, which the occupiers controlled, featured popular entertainment programmes and those Belgians who tuned in to “London” also liked to pick up other stations. Nevertheless, the London broadcasts did play an important role in conveying messages to the resistance movements, notifying interested parties of safe arrivals in London, and in disseminating government directives.

Radio was not the only means used by the government-in-exile to maintain relations with their compatriots in occupied territories. The Belgian ministers in London were also very much aware of the stringent rationing system enforced in the homeland, although with the threat of immediate confiscation by the German authorities, there was little that could be effectively done in terms of sending food supplies to alleviate the situation. However, the commitment was real and they did provide what help they could with the aid of private organizations.

The imposition of forced labour in Belgium in 1942 marked a turning point. The so-called “Mission Socrate” was launched to financially help those who tried to escape the measure.[13] The mission took time to get underway. The aim was to keep as many workers as possible out of German reach, but the fugitives still had to survive in occupied Belgium, where getting enough to live on was becoming a severe problem. It was equally imperative that those who refused the work mobilization should not be driven to commit violent acts to find food. The Socrates operation was organized with the help of traditional structures, particularly Catholic and socialist networks.

Relief for citizens who rejected the forced labour recruitment was linked to the question of financing the resistance. The government-in-exile had to decide which groups it should help. The issue of whether the Front de l’Indépendance movement, which had communist tendencies but nevertheless recognized the government’s legality, should be included was debated at length. A major concern for the Belgian politicians in London and for their State Security and Intelligence was the line these parties would take at the moment of liberation.[14] How would they guarantee the keeping of law and order? What part would the resistance, itself divided into markedly different currents, have in the political life of the restored state? The government’s stance was that no resistance movement should be in charge of maintaining order. This was brought home in January 1944, when a clear message was sent through parachuted agents that the upholding of law and order would not be the responsibility of the resistance organizations, but that the authorities could, if necessary, request their assistance. This decision was accepted by all factions.

From December 1943, 15 million Belgian francs were sent to Belgium every month. The major portion of this was used to assist those on the run from work conscription (10 million), and the rest went to the various resistance movements. This help made clear the government-in-exile’s commitment to supporting the homeland resistance.

PREPARING FOR THE POST-WAR REALITY

One of the main wartime concerns shared by both the Belgians at home and the government-in-exile in London was preparation for the post-war period. For this purpose, the gathering of reliable information was crucial. What were the main items of importance for citizens? How did Belgians at home feel about the government-in-exile? What were their priorities for the aftermath of the war? The answers proposed fuelled exchanges and discussions. The exiles kept track of developments from a distance and employed a certain amount of ideological filtering to gauge public opinion. At the same time, the circulation of information on decisions taken in London was felt to be paramount. The chief mediators in this regard were based in Brussels, mostly prewar associates of the Prime Minister from the francophone Catholic milieu with whom he had preserved strong ties.

As the war continued, the government’s preoccupation centred more and more on the situation that would come into being at the end of hostilities. The Commission for the Study of Post-war Problems (CEPAG) was founded in June 1941.[15] Three main tasks were identified: the immediate measures to be put into practice after the country’s liberation, the political, social and economic reforms to be undertaken, and the maintenance of a smooth relationship with the British government and the Allies to help solve post-war problems. A lot of thought went into social improvement. Clearly, the aim was to find a remedy for the profound pre-war crisis in Belgian democracy which had stretched well into the year 1940. Several of the initiatives proposed are worth mentioning, particularly the outspoken desire to increase the role of the state in political, social and economic matters. On the domestic front, the goal was to achieve a more democratic and egalitarian society, while internationally a new world order was envisaged, with mutual respect among nations. After the war, several of these projects were implemented, most notably currency reform, the introduction of a social security system, and the creation of a State Council.

The issue of retribution for collaboration, in other words the “punishment of the traitors,” was also an important concern. The government took decisive steps in December 1942 to broaden the legal provisions enacted after the First World War in this regard. In May 1944, jurisdiction for the dispensing of justice in this area was handed over to the military courts. This move was linked to information coming from occupied Belgium in connection with the conduct of the enemy and to the scale of the collaboration.

WHAT ABOUT THE BELGIAN ARMY?

Among those who went into exile in May and June 1940 were several hundred from the ranks of the Belgian army.[16] This was a much smaller number than, for example, their Polish counterparts and, unlike the Poles and the Czechoslovaks, they would not have any role to play in the Battle of Britain. The Belgian soldiers gathered in Tenby, in South Wales. Of the first group of around 600 men, some returned to France on 3 June 1940 since Belgium had not as yet surrendered. The remainder stayed put but had difficult times to endure after French capitulation on 18 June 1940. Many soldiers were hostile to the Belgian government which was still in France. Others had been taken aback by the King’s actions, and to exacerbate matters even more, they had no meaningful dialogue with either government exiles in London or the British, who were preoccupied with their own forces. On 12 August 1940, however, a general staff and a fighting unit were created. These had at first a rather symbolic role but their status rapidly increased. Tensions, however, did not abate. Nor were they resolved by the formation of the Belgian government-in-exile. Resentment was real and officers were divided into two camps, one of which might be termed “democratic,” the other “royalist” or even fascist. The state of general dissatisfaction was augmented even more by the lack of opportunity to fight the enemy, shortcomings in equipment, and relations with the policy makers in London.

In June 1942, the so-called “Forces Belges de la Grande Bretagne” joined the Allied war effort. At their head was Major Jean-Baptiste Piron, who had escaped from Belgium and arrived in Britain through Scotland in 1942. The brigade, which would bear his name, counted 5,000 men when Piron took charge. Some had participated in the earlier Abyssinian campaign. From 30 July 1944 Belgian troops began to arrive in Normandy and on 3 September the brigade crossed the French border and joined in the liberation of Brussels just one day later.

RETURN AND SILENCE

For the Belgians, the heroes of the Second World War were the soldiers (the first Belgian Brigade, the Brigade Piron), in contrast to the government-in-exile in London who came home on 8 September to meet with general indifference. Other displaced nationals only returned in the course of the summer and autumn of 1945. The exile experience did not have a long-lasting effect on Belgium in general. Indeed, in a broad sense, the event was muted. This is understandable for several reasons. Compared with the First World War, the Belgian presence in Britain was much smaller. In addition, when weighed against the depredations occupied Belgium and the conscripted labour force had to endure, along with the urgency of coming to grips with post-war problems, the London interlude seemed marginal enough. Another factor here was probably the royal question: the rupture between the King and his ministers had already taken place at the moment of Belgian capitulation, but the London sojourn contributed nothing to an improvement in the situation. All attempts by the government-in-exile to re-establish relations with the King failed. After the war, Socialists and Catholics took opposing positions on the royal question and mention of the London years would likely have been an unwelcome reminder to both of what might best be quietly left to one side. The policy-makers’ experience with exile had been, on the whole, one of powerlessness and of dependence on their British hosts and, despite all the projects and plans devised in London, Belgium not Britain was where the great reforms would be decided upon.

On the other hand, the Piron brigade returned victoriously to become the real heroes in the liberation of Brussels. Although this remained a far cry from triumphant Gaullism, the role of the Belgian soldier in driving the enemy from the nation’s capital nevertheless entered the country’s annals of glory.

It was not until the 1970s, when a number of eyewitnesses started to share their memories, that the archives were opened and research into this episode of Belgian history could begin. Today, the exile and the part played by the Belgian government in London are acknowledged. What appears surprising, however, is the relative shortfall in the influence accorded them. Moreover, there seems to be no collective memory as such, only a number of individual figures each with his own individual story to tell. In this sense, the national experience of WW2 exile in Britain is not unlike that of the First World War, which likewise left few traces. On the other hand, the brunt of the earlier exile had been borne by civilians not policy makers or members of the armed forces. Indeed, for Belgians looking back on the First World War today the tendency is to focus increasingly on the plight of refugees, not surprisingly perhaps given the topicality of the issue. The British exile of 1940–1945, in contrast, has been largely forgotten.

1 For a global overview, see Martin Conway, José Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile. European Exile Communities in Britain 1940–1945 (New York – Oxford: Berghahn Books/Soma-Ceges, 2001).

2 Peter Gatrell, “Refugees,” in Ute Daniel, Peter Gatrell, Oliver Janz, Heather Jones, Jennifer Keene, Alan Kramer, and Bill Nasson, eds., 1914–1918 online. International Encyclopedia of the First World War (Berlin: Freie Universität Berlin, 2014). Available at: http://dx.doi.org/10.15463/ie1418.10134.

3 José Gotovitch, “Réfugiés et solidarité – Vluchtelingen en solidariteit,” in Serge Jaumain, Michaël Amara, Benoît Majerus, and Antoon Vrints, eds., Une guerre totale? La Belgique dans la Première Guerre mondiale. Nouvelles tendances de la recherche historique (Bruxelles: AGR, 2005), p. 407.

4 For a general overview of this question, see Michaël Amara’s study Des Belges à l’épreuve de l’exil: les réfugiés de la Première Guerre mondiale. France, Grande-Bretagne, Pays-Bas (Bruxelles: Editions de l’ULB, 2008).

5 Colin Holmes, “British Government Policy Towards Wartime Refugees,” in Conway, Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile, p. 14.

6 See Luis Angel Bernardo and Matthew Buck, “Belgian Society in Exile: An Attempt at a Synthesis,” in Conway, Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile, pp. 53–66.

7 About this group, see José Gotovitch, De Belgische socialisten in Londen (Antwerpen: Standaard, 1981).

8 See Jean-François Crombois, Camille Gutt, 1940–1945, les finances et la guerre (Bruxelles-Gerpinnes: Quorum-Ceges, 2000).

9 See Pierre Van den Dungen, Hubert Pierlot 1883–1963. La Loi, le Roi, la Liberté (Bruxelles: Le Cri, 2010); Michel Dumoulin, Spaak (Bruxelles: Racine, 1999).

10 “Le gouvernement a continué à regagner petit à petit dans l’opinion le terrain qu’il avait perdu lors des événements de fin mai 1940. Il ne reste aujourd’hui plus grand-chose de l’extrême discrédit dans lequel il était tombé. Il n’est pas rare d’entendre faire son éloge par ceux-là même qui, il y a deux ans, le condamnaient avec une implacable sévérité et envisageaient de le faire traduire devant une Haute Cour.” This opinion was expressed after two and a half years of occupation. Paul Struye, Guillaume Jacquemyns, La Belgique sous l’occupation allemande (1940–1944) (Bruxelles: Complexe/Ceges, 2002), pp. 176–177.

11 Voir Alain Colignon, “La Résistance ‘de droite’: une anglophilie par défaut?,” in Jours de guerre, pp. 37–53.

12 See Céline Rase, Radio Bruxelles au pilori. Des ondes impures à l’épuration des ondes. Contribution à l’histoire de la radio, des collaborations et des répressions en Belgique (1939–1950), Thèse de doctorat inédite (Namur: Université de Namur, 2015–2016).

13 See Bernard Ducarme, “Le financement de la résistance armée en Belgique, 1940–1944,” in Courrier hebdomadaire du Crisp, No. 476–477 (1970).

14 See Etienne Verhoeyen, “La résistance belge vue de Londres: ententes et divergences entre Belges et Britanniques: le cas du SOE,” in La résistance et les Européens du Nord/Het Verzet en Noord-Europa (Bruxelles-Paris: IHTP/CREHSGM, 1994), Vol. 2, pp. 156–182.

15 See Diane de Bellefroid, “The Commission pour l’Etude des Problèmes d’Après-Guerre (CEPAG) 1941–1944,” in Conway, Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile (2001), pp. 121–134.

16 See Luc De Vos, “The Reconstruction of Belgian Military Forces in Britain,” in Conway, Gotovitch, eds., Europe in Exile (2001), pp. 81–98.

A COLD SHOWER IN INTERNATIONAL REALITY: REDEFINING THE DUTCH INTERNATIONAL POSITION 1940–1945^1

ALBERT E. KERSTEN

In 1951, the Dutch diplomat Joseph Luns expressed the opinion that Dutch diplomacy suffered from the consequences of a century long policy of aloofness and neutrality. He went on to say that from 1940, Dutch diplomats still acted as if the Netherlands should not get involved in international power politics. According to Luns, this was a major error because in international politics decisions were always taken at the cost of the weaker parties, i.e., small states. In the international setting, the Netherlands was a minor player. Therefore, it was better to play hard ball than to be polite and show an understanding for the reasoning and the views of the different Great Powers. Their purpose was to serve their own interests and Dutch diplomats should likewise put Dutch concerns first. Basically, Luns reproached his colleagues in the Dutch diplomatic service for a lack of awareness of how international power politics operated and of professional naivety.

Luns was a junior diplomat in Berne, Switzerland, when the Dutch government left Holland on 14 May 1940, four days after the country was attacked by Germany. The Dutch Foreign Minister, Eelco N. van Kleffens, and the Minister for the Colonies, Charles Joseph Ignace Marie Welter, had arrived in London on 11 May in order to coordinate policies with the British government. To the outside world it looked like cooperation between equal allies, but in fact the Dutch had consented to the stationing of British troops in the Dutch Antilles to protect the Shell refineries, which were essential to the RAF – an action which would have occurred anyway, with or without Dutch approval. The appearance of the two Dutch ministers in London was convenient, but not essential for the British move. The situation whereby foreign troops established a base on Dutch territory with the last-minute assent of the Dutch government was repeated in August 1941; on that occasion, the Dutch agreed to American troops taking up position in Surinam to protect the bauxite mines, an event which had been planned without direct Dutch involvement. Bauxite was a vital raw material for the booming American war industry. In both cases the government-in-exile chose to play the role of a good ally and to make the best of the state of affairs that had arisen. From the perspective of Allied grand strategy, this was a wise decision, but from the Dutch point of view it was frightening to experience such measures taken by the allies, who did not even bother to consult let alone involve them in the decision-making process.

Dutch foreign policy had been one of detachment since 1839, the year when the Treaty of London was signed guaranteeing Belgian independence and confirming the division of the United Kingdom of the Low Countries, itself created as a result of the Congress of Vienna to be a barrier against France and French expansionist policies. The Dutch policy of aloofness and informal neutrality had been made possible by the so-called Pax Britannica, which protected the Dutch metropolitan territory in Europe and its colonial possessions in South-East Asia, Latin America and the Antilles. After the First World War, however, the Dutch government gradually became aware that this option was nearing its end. Membership in the newly created League of Nations made full neutrality impossible due to the obligation of participating in sanctions imposed by the decisions of the League’s Council. The Dutch international position became even shakier after Japan and Germany left the League of Nations in 1933. Defining a new international position, on the other hand, proved well-nigh impossible because the principle of non-involvement in international power politics stood at the very base of Dutch thinking on foreign policy. The system of collective security as envisaged by the League did not work in practice but no real alternative existed. A dual set of non-aggression treaties with Germany and Great Britain proved unattainable. As a result, on the surface at least, the Dutch government sublimated its neutral position in the European security system as a contribution to peace in Europe, although it did try to come to an arrangement with potential allies in case of a German attack. The German invasion of 10 May 1940 brought a sudden, although not unexpected, end to this state of hallucination and self-deception.

The weak Dutch forces withstood the German onslaught for no more than five days. Indeed, the Commander-in-Chief had little option other than to surrender on 14 May. A major achievement was the fact that the Dutch Air Force, though small in size, had prevented a surprise raid on The Hague and had foiled the German plan to arrest Queen Wilhelmina and her government. The Navy, and all its ships then under construction, managed to escape to the safety of British harbours. After capitulation, some troops still put up a desperate fight in the Dutch region of Zeeland but had to give in on 18 May. Remnants of the Dutch army escaped via France to Great Britain. In the meantime, the government and Queen Wilhelmina made a separate, uncoordinated departure. The Queen ended up in Britain because the commander of the British man-of-war who picked her up along with members of her household turned down her request to be taken to the region of Zeeland, a position he made quite clear when he stated: “Majesty, I am in command.” Needless to say, this approach was quite new to her. A small number of officials followed the government to Britain. Naturally enough, not only the Queen but all those involved were shaken and disillusioned.2

With the help of Dutch multinationals in the British Isles, such as Unilever and Royal Dutch Shell, the government-in-exile rented offices in Stratton House near Trafalgar Square in the centre of London. In addition to traditional government departments, new provisional institutions like the Temporary Auditor’s Office were established. The administration was re-established in miniature, although some government units, such as the Ministry of Social Affairs and the Ministry of Education, were, necessarily, very small. In addition to the Secretary, one official, the Secretary’s personal assistant, was appointed. Other departments were fully equipped due to their continuing duties. Among these were the Department of the Navy, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry for the Colonies. Despite the fact that some sections had problems finding competent staff among the Dutch community in Britain, the quality of the government services was considered sufficient by and large.

The unbalanced political structure, however, was an area that needed to be tackled. With the Queen and Cabinet functioning from London and both chambers of Parliament left behind in the occupied Netherlands, the system of democratic checks and balances was naturally no longer in place. With all participants working together in good faith, this might not have created a problem but the reality was that all concerned had diverging views on how to function in this exceptional situation. Under normal circumstances, the role of the monarch in the Dutch constitutional system was restricted. Although in theory commander of the forces, administrator of the colonies and endowed with the right to appoint and dismiss Cabinet ministers, in practice all these prerogatives had since 1848 been gradually made subject to approval by the Cabinet and Parliament. During the exile years in London, difficulties arose because the Parliament in its capacity as a balancing factor was not present and the Queen and the Cabinet disagreed on how to compensate for this absence. The Council of Ministers was divided on the issue. After the French armistice signed in June 1940, the 71-year-old Prime Minister, Dirk Jan de Geer, proved to be very defeatist. Without consulting Whitehall, he suggested to the Council that opportunities for negotiating a separate peace with Germany and an eventual return of the government to the Netherlands be explored. This proposal, however, met with opposition within the Council and was dropped. The Prime Minister then recommended that the government be transferred to the Dutch East Indies instead.

When the Queen was informed of what de Geer had in mind, she decided to dismiss him. After consulting those members of the Council whom she regarded as truly non-defeatist and pro-Allied, she made him resign and appointed the Minister of Justice, Pieter Sjoerds Gerbrandy, as Prime Minister in his place. He himself totally agreed with the procedure. In his opinion, as a result of the emergency situation, the Queen possessed the right to appoint and dismiss Cabinet Ministers at her own discretion. Some colleagues were pleased with the unquestionably pro-Allied attitude of the new Prime Minister but others were less enthusiastic about his accommodating attitude towards the Queen’s unconstitutional behaviour. She was convinced she had no other choice than to take the lead, as her forefather William of Orange had done at the beginning of the war of independence against Spain in the 16th century, because the future of the Netherlands was at stake. In her mind, it was quite natural that she should carry responsibility for a pro-Allied government. Furthermore, she saw the exile as an excellent opportunity to change the Dutch political system by bringing an end to the complicated multi-party democracy and establishing a more authoritarian form of government which would increase the power of the head of state.

To some extent, the new Prime Minister Gerbrandy did not oppose these ideas nor did he communicate them to the Cabinet immediately. Without doubt, Gerbrandy was the most anti-Nazi member of the Dutch governmentin-exile, but he was also an individualist, not a team player. On top of that, he proved to be a somewhat chaotic chairman at Cabinet meetings. This and other disagreements created tensions within the Cabinet time and again. On several occasions these escalated and led to the resignation of some members. Neither did he voice any dissent when the Queen called for the dismissal of individual Cabinet ministers because of personal dislike or alleged incompetence. Initially, the Queen in consultation with Gerbrandy tried to fill the resulting vacancies by making a reshuffle. After the loss of the East Indies in March 1942, however, the entire Cabinet was hauled over the coals and new members with strong personalities were appointed to important posts such as the Army, Finance and the Colonies. The move strengthened the energy and determination of the Council, but also brought internal disagreements to a head. Somehow in the process, Gerbrandy managed to change sides and lined up with his fellow ministers in an effort to restore the leading position of the Council of Ministers. In so doing, he lost the confidence of the Queen. She tried to tighten her grip on the Cabinet by nominating some recent escapees from the occupied homeland; these were a nuisance factor as far as Gerbrandy was concerned but did not undermine the solidarity of the reconstructed Cabinet. In the winter of 1945, after the liberation of the southern part of the Netherlands, the Queen tried to get rid of Gerbrandy, but the man she had earmarked to succeed him as Prime Minister, Foreign Secretary van Kleffens, flatly rejected the offer. In fact, he made her understand that both abroad and in the occupied Netherlands she and Gerbrandy were the figureheads of the government-in-exile. The Queen gave in and Gerbrandy kept his post. After the German capitulation in May 1945, he tendered her the resignation of his government. She accepted but without a word of gratitude for his services.

Diverging views on the shape of post-war Dutch society were the linchpin of the conflict between the Cabinet and the Queen from 1942 onwards. Due to her frequent contacts with subjects who had escaped from the occupied Netherlands, she formed the impression, wrongly, that the old political and societal system was no longer viable among Dutch people. Her way of interviewing these so-called “Engelandvaarders” [England travellers] and their subservience were the basis for the creation of this image. The drive to renew the political system fitted well with her own mindset of greater national unity and a new society without the political divisions which had been present among the population of the Netherlands ever since the introduction of equal representation and general suffrage in 1917. Whoever opposed her ideas was declared “not-renewed” and essentially regarded as unfit to participate in the process of opinion-building on the shape the post-war Netherlands should take. From her point of view, Prime Minister Gerbrandy and most members of the Cabinet belonged to this category. Therefore, within the Dutch government-in-exile open debate on the arrangement of post-war society and government was practically impossible. However, as will be shown in the following pages, this does not mean that there was no discussion at all.

Even before the German invasion of the Netherlands in May 1940 a large Dutch community had settled in London. This was a mainly Calvinist society working in trade, insurance and banking. They had their own church at Austin Friars, which was destroyed during the Blitz in October 1940. Most members of the Dutch community in Britain were well off. During the days of the German invasion the appearance of several thousand fugitives on all kinds of vessels – a kind of Dutch civilian Dunkirk – was taken in hand by several emergency committees. Their services continued until the refugees found decent shelter and a source of income. The influx of the evacuees and the arrival of the government gave a new impulse to the Dutch community in Britain. In addition to normal social activities, celebrations marking national holidays received a glamorous boost since Cabinet ministers and sometimes even the Queen herself attended many of them in person. In addition, the newcomers were provided with their own assembly rooms for meetings and recreation.

Paul Rijkens, one of those who spent the war years in Britain, was the Dutch President of Unilever. He took the initiative in establishing a weekly journal entitled Vrij Nederland [Free Netherlands]. The liberal Jewish correspondent Marcus van Blankenstein, who had been dismissed as a columnist by the leading Dutch newspaper Nieuwe Rotterdamsche Courant after complaints about his anti-Nazi comments, became editor-in-chief. Rijkens and van Blankenstein acted independently, to the dissatisfaction of the government-in-exile, which would have preferred the new publication to be a kind of official newspaper. The content was a mixture of news on the occupied homeland, events in the refugee community, articles glorifying Dutch history and obituaries on deceased Dutch people all over the world. It was read both in Great Britain and abroad. In the United States, a similar newspaper was established with the title The Knickerbocker Weekly. It worked on the same formula, and it, too, was out of the reach of the government-in-exile.

Vrij Nederland journalists were also involved in radio transmissions to the homeland. The Dutch broadcasts of the BBC were very much under the influence of the Dutch government. Radio Oranje [Radio Orange], on the other hand, was more effective because of its variety; not just news on the progress of allied war efforts and events in occupied Holland were addressed, but also songs, comedy and other leisure items were included. Radio Oranje had likewise been set up by a group of Dutch captains of industry and became very popular in the occupied Netherlands. It was the main instrument for official broadcasts by the Queen and Prime Minister Gerbrandy, whose familiar voices heartened their audiences with rousing speeches on the fight against the Germans and the Japanese, the certainty of allied victory and their hopes for a better Netherlands after the war. A similar station De Brandaris [Lighthouse] was launched on the short wave for Dutch sailors in the merchant navy to raise their spirits as they toiled to keep vital sea routes open.

It was more difficult to open other lines of contact between the government-in-exile and the occupied Netherlands. Initially communication went through neutral countries such as Spain or Portugal and it was not until 1942 that regular interaction between the government and its secret services on the one hand and the different resistance groups in the homeland on the other was made. This enabled the government to gauge the mood and attitude of the people, as well as what they had to endure under the occupation, and to gain an insight into opinions on post-war policies. It also enabled the passing of vital information for Allied combatants in the battle for liberation in 1944–1945.

FOCUS ON THE DUTCH EAST INDIES AND THE FAR EAST

Once established in London, the Dutch regarded themselves as the main ally of Great Britain. This was to some extent with good reason. In addition to the colonies in the Caribbean and Latin America, the Dutch administered the Dutch Indies in South-East Asia, an important producer of vital raw materials and agricultural products. The Japanese government had delivered its wish list for raw materials to The Hague and Batavia on 12 May 1940 and had asked for direct negotiations. The Dutch Royal Navy had crossed over to the British Isles, and most of the gold of the National Bank and the government had been deposited in London or the United States. In theory, the Dutch government could act independently, but in reality it was tied to British strategic interests. Although the Dutch regarded themselves as Britain’s most important ally, it was a standing that did not yield any real dividends in terms of influence. An official in the Dutch Colonial Office remarked rightly that while it was good for the self-esteem of Foreign Minister van Kleffens to meet Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden every fortnight, it did not give the Dutch a finger in the pie when it came to British policy-making. On the other hand, the Dutch government-in-exile did not expend a lot of energy in forming relations with other exile governments. In all cases the Dutch Acting Envoys were lower ranking officials from the Ministry for Foreign Affairs or the Legation at the British government. In fact, until March 1942 the Dutch government-in-exile was mainly focused on developments in the Far East.

The Japanese call in May 1940 for discussions with the Dutch on the delivery of strategic raw materials such as oil, bauxite, rubber and quinine posed a grave threat for the Dutch. Initially, the Governor-General in Batavia, A. W. L. Tjarda van Starkenborgh Stachouwer replied that he did not have instructions at his disposal to answer the request. In July, a Japanese delegation headed by some Cabinet ministers arrived in Batavia and, much to their satisfaction no doubt, was lavishly entertained. Although formally neutral in the Far East, the Dutch government was in direct touch with Washington and London, and to a lesser extent also with Canberra, on the approach and tactics to be adopted for the talks with Japan. Officially, the Japanese had to reach agreement with the companies which produced the raw materials requested, but this was just a ploy to exempt the Dutch government from being the direct arbiter of the matter. Behind the scenes all moves were of course coordinated. The main goal was to stretch out the negotiations for as long as possible, reject Japanese proposals for long-term contracts and offer deals for only small quantities with a duration of three to six months maximally instead. When the negotiations were finalized in June 1941, restricted deliveries were made. The Dutch, however, joined the American trade blockade against Japan in July 1941 and the export of significant amounts of strategic materials to the future enemy was stopped.

In the meantime, cooperation with the Western powers in South-East Asia was extended. In November 1940, the British and the Dutch naval commanders in the region met in Singapore on an informal basis to discuss cooperation in the event of Japanese aggression. Although the results were never confirmed by the colonial or metropolitan authorities, the discussions were continued in February 1941 on a broader basis. Furthermore, Australian and New Zealand representatives and experts from all the associated armed forces participated. The final meeting in April 1941 to complete the contingency plan was also attended by American observers. This was based on the premise that a state of war existed between Germany, Italy and Japan on the one hand and the British Empire and its allies on the other. The agreement did not specify any political commitment and required ratification by the governments concerned for implementation. Although it appeared rational to suppose that a state of war would also exist between the United States and Japan, the arrangement for obvious reasons did not take this as a point of departure.

Vážení čtenáři, právě jste dočetli ukázku z knihy Exile in London.
Pokud se Vám líbila, celou knihu si můžete zakoupit v našem e-shopu.