NB:  Lord Deedes covered the events in Abyssinia as a cub reporter in the
1930s. After World War II, he became a politician and was  appointed a
minister by Winston Churchill. He was editor of the Daily Telegraph from
1974-86.

Daily Telegraph
Friday 21 February 2003
The world was weak in 1935 - and Mussolini had his way
By W F Deedes

If we're seeking lessons from the past to help us deal with Saddam Hussein,
then the way we dealt with Mussolini's conquest of Abyssinia in 1935 is - as
the Prime Minister understands - the place to look. I was particularly
reminded of my own Abyssinia moment when I read about Saturday's anti-war
march - hauntingly matched by the Peace Ballot of 1935, the national
referendum in which millions voted for peace at almost any price, thus
unwittingly persuading Hitler and Mussolini that bold predators had not much
to fear.

Then, as now, the authority of what was then the League of Nations and is
now the United Nations was at stake. Then, as now, many felt reluctant to
take action against a dangerous dictator, even with the authority of a body
like the League or the UN, lest it lead to war. Then, as now, our
difficulties were compounded by the duplicitous behaviour of the French.

In 1935, after many brave words and much wriggling, we fudged it. So
Mussolini took all he wanted in Abyssinia, without hindrance. He and others
drew conclusions from this display of impotence. In 1936, the same year as
Mussolini's conquest of Abyssinia was completed, the Spanish Civil War
began. Germany and Italy felt free to play a military role in that affair,
without reprisals. Then, it has always seemed to me, our slide towards the
Second World War became unstoppable.

Oddly, seeing how it turned out, the behaviour of the government (then a
coalition) won widespread approval in Britain at the time. This was partly
because ministers kept repeating that Britain would stand firm by all its
obligations to the League.

Both Sir Samuel Hoare, the foreign secretary, and Anthony Eden, the minister
without portfolio for League of Nations affairs, first sought to reason with
Mussolini and dissuade him from his African adventure. We even offered him a
strip of British territory in Somaliland if he would waive his demands on
Abyssinia.

When that was rebuffed, we declared that we had gone to the limit of
concessions to Italy and, if these were rejected, we would not hesitate to
call upon the League to take action. Relations between the League and
Mussolini were much as they are now between the United Nations and Saddam
Hussein.

On September 11, 1935, three weeks before Mussolini plunged into Abyssinia,
Sam Hoare delivered a resounding speech at Geneva, declaring our unswerving
support for the League but making it clear that our undertaking was
conditional on other members of the League doing their share.

Acclaimed by the assembly, praised by the British press, and music to the
ears of the Liberal and Labour parties, this speech was questioned only by
those with the wit to perceive that, if we were to take the lead in
sanctions against Italy, then we must be prepared for war.

We did, in fact, as a precautionary measure, move British warships into the
Mediterranean, and we reinforced British garrisons, rather as we have been
doing in the Gulf.

But reckoning this build-up might provoke a sudden Italian attack on the
British fleet, our naval authorities insisted they must withdraw part of the
fleet unless better provision were made for its security. The French were
asked whether, in the event of an Italian attack, we could use their ports.
They agreed in return for reciprocal treatment.

The crisis in 1935 came closest to where we are now after October 4, when
Mussolini launched his attack on Abyssinia. Britain's eagerness to set in
motion the machinery of the League against Italy ran into immediate
difficulties with France. Pierre Laval, the French foreign minister, was
unwilling to antagonise Mussolini. The sticking point was the likelihood of
action by the League, involving sanctions strong enough to thwart Mussolini,
precipitating war. Though never a strong believer in the principle of
sanctions, Eden believed that on this occasion they would be effective.

He wanted the League to apply sanctions - including oil sanctions - to bring
Mussolini to the negotiating table. Without the co-operation of France, this
became a farce. When I passed through the Suez Canal in 1935 en route for
Abyssinia, Mussolini's ships were drawing all the oil they wanted. Financial
backing for Italy, I was told, came from the Banque de France. When I came
back a few months later, the same conditions prevailed.

In Britain, we had a section of the Labour Party protesting against
endorsing a policy - namely effective sanctions against Italy - which might
ultimately lead to a "capitalist" war. The leader of the party, George
Lansbury, declared that he could not support the use of armed force either
by the League of Nations or by individual nations and resigned, giving way
to Clem Attlee. Labour's leader in the Lords, Lord Ponsonby, resigned on the
same point.

By contrast, the Trades Union Congress, driven by detestation for fascism,
was more robust. Sir Walter Citrine, TUC secretary, declared there was a
price to pay for peace, and it might entail taking deliberate action against
a breaker of the peace. It might mean war, but that was one of the things
they had to face. There was no alternative left except to take the risk of
applying sanctions involving the possibility of war.

The Tory leader, Stanley Baldwin, told his party's conference that it was
useless for Britain to accept obligations under the covenant of the League
until it had at its command adequate forces with which to carry them out. He
promised to repair deficiencies in military equipment - another relevant
echo from the past.

The Abyssinian affair ended shamefully, after Hoare and Pierre Laval, with
the broad assent of our Cabinet, cooked up a plan in December 1935 to reach
a compromise with Mussolini whereby he stopped fighting in return for a slab
of Abyssinia. When that became public knowledge, there was uproar. Hoare had
to resign. Eden succeeded him.

The whole affair was an object lesson in what happens when nations seek to
deter an aggressor by proposing a course of action against him with two
conditions: one being that everyone binds themselves to the same course of
action; the other, that nothing they do will provoke the aggressor into
striking back.

There is, of course, one big difference between now and then. America wasn't
a player in 1935. Europe handled it. Now America is the lead player, which
may be just as well.

Reply via email to