Showing posts with label Negotiation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Negotiation. Show all posts

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Book Summary - Bargaining with the devil (Robert Mnookin) ...Bonus Video Inside


To see other books: Summaries

 “Should you bargain with the Devil?” If I were pressed to provide a one-sentence answer to this question, it would be: “Not always, but more often than you feel like it.”

“Not always” because I reject categorical claims that you should always be willing to negotiate. “More often than you feel like it” for two different sorts of reasons. First, the negative traps and strong emotions may make you feel like fighting when clearheaded analysis would demonstrate that you should negotiate. The second relates to morality. You may feel that choosing to negotiate would violate a moral principle you hold dear, or be inconsistent with your sense of self. In the very hardest cases, you may feel deeply torn between the “principled” choice and the “pragmatic” one. When one is forced to choose between the two, I lean heavily in favor of pragmatism, but I want to acknowledge how painful that choice can be.

Why is it painful? Because you may feel that justice requires more than just a pragmatic resolution—it requires condemnation. In your eyes, the enemy has committed an act for which they should be punished, not rewarded. Your honor and integrity demand that you resist. This impulse can be just as powerful in business and family disputes as in international conflicts—perhaps even more so.

I have empathy for this desire to punish those who have wronged us. I share it. When we are caught between the demands of principle and pragmatism, what we really need to ask ourselves is, To what extent should we look backward and to what extent should we focus on the future? There's often an inescapable tension between achieving justice for past wrongs and the need for resolution. It is another aspect of the Faustian bargain. If you want to resolve the conflict and move forward, you may have to give the devil something you feel he doesn't deserve. This is a bitter pill to swallow.

Now that our journey is nearly over, I owe you some general advice.

We've explored together eight high-stakes conflicts where real people had to decide what to do. We've seen the traps at work. We've applied my framework. Eight stories can't capture the full range of situations in which the Devil may make an appearance; nor can they illustrate all the factors that may be relevant in applying my framework. But drawing on my framework and these stories, I can suggest four general guidelines.

1. Systematically compare the expected costs and benefits.

When we feel like fighting, we may jump to the conclusion that negotiating a satisfactory resolution is simply out of the question. The best antidote to that kind of knee-jerk impulse and the negative traps is to go through Spock's five questions carefully. Who are the parties and what are their interests? What are each side's alternatives to negotiation? What are the costs of negotiation for each side? Are there any potential negotiated agreements that might better serve the interests of both sides than their best alternatives away from the table? If such a deal is reached, what is the likelihood that it will be implemented? (In other words, can you trust the other side to live up to it? If not, can it be enforced anyway?) I am the first to acknowledge that asking these questions will not necessarily lead to a single right answer. This isn't a mechanical exercise, like balancing your checkbook. This is tedious, it's hard, and it requires you to make predictions about future behavior in a context of uncertainty. It isn't value-free. Judgments about values and priorities—what's “good” and “bad,” what counts as a benefit and what counts as a cost—will of course beincluded in your analysis. For example, when evaluating costs, one might ask, “Will a deal here encourage more evil in the future?” Reasonable people assessing the same alternatives may reach different conclusions. There are also deeper critiques of cost-benefit analysis, two of which I'll address briefly. They suggest that Spock's sort of analysis is not infallible and should not be your exclusive guide to decision-making. The first is that it favors analytic over intuitive reasoning. As I said earlier, I believe that rationality encompasses both analysis and intuition. (Think of an experienced doctor making a medical diagnosis.) But with cost-benefit reasoning, the analytic side of the brain is in charge. Spock doesn't understand intuition, so he may discount or ignore valuable information. I am not suggesting you ignore your emotions or your intuitions. Instead I'm advising you to probe them. They may be traps, or they may be valuable insights. Ask yourself, What may have triggered this reaction? Is there evidence to support it? Evidence that would point in the opposite direction? A second criticism of cost-benefit analysis is that it values pragmatic concerns over moral categorical principles. This goes to one of the most profound issues in philosophy: Is it proper to judge the morality of an act only on an assessment of its consequences? Cost-benefit analysis is consequentialist at its core—one makes choices among alternative courses of action solely by evaluating and comparing the consequences of those actions. Some philosophers would argue that this is an incomplete and inadequate form of moral reasoning, and many ordinary people would intuitively agree. There are well-known philosophical puzzles that expose its limitations. Consequentialism doesn't explicitly leave room for philosophical and religious traditions that emphasize categorical principles for human conduct. So why do I still insist, at least as a first step, that you assess costs and benefits? To prevent you from relying solely on intuition or unarticulated moral claims, and to be suspicious of those who do. Conduct the analysis first. If you are still conflicted, you must make the difficult decision whether your moral principle is so absolute that you cannot negotiate, even under these extenuating circumstances.

2. Get advice from others in evaluating the alternatives: don't do the analysis alone.

Like Churchill, you should be willing to expose your reasoning to rigorous questioning by people you respect. When they ask how you reached your decision about whether to negotiate, “I just know it in my gut, I can't explain it” is not an adequate response. We saw how Churchill initially floundered under fire from Halifax and Chamberlain. It's hard to reduce a powerful instinct to rational explanation. Churchill huffed and blustered, tossing out one half-baked rationale after another. But finally he managed to build a sound argument: Hitler had shown that he was an unreliable negotiating partner, there were substantial risks that negotiations would fail, and a failed negotiation would have a devastating effect on Churchill's ability to rally the British people for war. This logic persuaded everyone but Halifax. In our own lives, particularly in conflicts that involve demonization, there are times when we all need a War Cabinet. Talk with at least one person who's less emotionally involved. It may be a lawyer. It may be a trusted friend. It may be a group of advisors whose perspectives are different from yours. It may be a mediator who can help all the disputants understand the trade-offs. The point is, let other people help you weed out the traps. In assessing the costs and benefits of the alternatives, members of your team may disagree. They may be making different trade-offs and predictions, or different value judgments about what counts as a benefit and what counts as a cost. Exposing these differences is helpful, for it will better ensure a considered decision.

3. Have a presumption in favor of negotiation, but make it rebuttable.

Suppose your advisors disagree. Suppose that after thinking it through carefully, your mind is in equipoise—you think the costs and benefits of negotiating are roughly equal to those of not negotiating. In case of such a “tie,” I would apply a presumption in favor of negotiation.Now the obvious question is: Why tip the scales in favor of bargaining with the Devil? Why not be neutral, or even have a presumption against negotiation? After all, this is the Devil we're talking about! The reason for the presumption is to provide an additional safe-guard against the negative traps: Tribalism, Demonization, Dehu-manization, Moralism, Zero-Sum Thinking, the Impulse to Fight or Flee, and the Call to Battle. As we've seen, these traps can distort clear thinking. And their effect can be subtle. You may think you're en-gaging in pure Spockian analysis, but you may be fooling yourself. The traps may already have sprung. You may be starting with your conclusion—having already intuitively decided what to do—and selectively looking for evidence to justify it. My presumption can mitigate this risk. Apart from breaking ties, my presumption operates in a second way. It puts the burden of persuasion on those who don't want to negotiate. Think of your pugnacious brother-in-law Fred Kramer from the early chapters, who wants to sue Bikuta. My presumption would require him to stop spouting clichés and explain why a lawsuit makes practical sense. It also puts the burden of persuasion on that part of yourself that wants to fight; it will force you to justify that impulse. Note that my presumption is not a flat rule. It is simply a guideline—and it is rebuttable. If you think the situation through and decide you are better off refusing to negotiate, the presumption is overcome. We've seen several examples in this book.

4. When deciding on behalf of others, don't allow your own moral intuitions to override a pragmatic assessment.

When it comes to making decisions that involve a perceived “devil,” there is a difference between individuals acting solely on their own behalf and those acting in a representative capacity—deciding on behalf of others. For an individual, a decision to override a pragmatic assessment based on moral intuitions may be virtuous, courageous, and even wise—as long as that individual alone bears the risks of carrying on the fight. This is not true for a business executive deciding on behalf of a corporation, a union representative acting on behalf of a union, or a political leader acting onbehalf of his nation. Perhaps not even for a parent acting on behalf of a child. A person acting in a representative capacity not only must carefully and rationally assess the expected consequences of alternative courses of action, but also should be guided by that assessment. If cost-benefit assessment favors negotiation, I think it is improper for the representative to decide nonetheless to go to battle based on his personal moral intuitions. This last guideline brings to mind the challenges facing our national leaders in deciding whether to negotiate with terrorists or leaders of evil regimes. In the Introduction, I said that my personal journey began shortly after 9/11, when President Bush had to decide whether to accept Mullah Omar's invitation to negotiate with the Taliban, which then controlled Afghanistan. I explained why, after applying my framework, I agreed with Bush's decision not to negotiate with the Taliban. But I must confess that I became increasingly troubled during the remainder of his two terms with his general approach to the questions at the heart of this book. Indeed, there is evidence that the president violated all four of my guidelines. Let me explain. 1. According to Scott McClellan, the former White House press secretary, President Bush disliked and avoided systematic cost-benefit analysis of different policy options, preferring to make decisions based on his instincts. “President Bush has always been an instinctive leader more than an intellectual leader. He is not one to delve deeply into all the possible policy options—including sitting around engaging in extended debate about them—before making a choice. Rather, he chooses based on his gut and his most deeply held convictions. Such was the case with Iraq.”11 In other words, Bush was not a Spockian. 2. President Bush, of course, had any number of foreign policy advisors. But there is evidence that his “War Cabinet” acquiesced without pushing him very hard to think through costs and benefits, opportunities and risks. According to McClellan, “[O]verall, Bush's foreign policy advisors played right into his thinking, doing little to question it or to cause him to pause long enough to fully consider the consequences before moving forward. And once Bush set a course of action, it was rarely questioned. … That wascertainly the case with Iraq. Bush was ready to bring about regime change, and that in all likelihood meant war. The question was not whether, but merely when and how.” 3. President Bush's administration did not apply a presumption in favor of negotiation. Indeed, its rhetoric suggests quite the opposite. As Vice President Dick Cheney declared shortly after September 11, “I have been charged by the president with making sure that none of the tyrannies of the world are negotiated with. We don't negotiate with evil; we defeat it.” This implies a strong presumption—if not an absolute rule—against negotiation with “evil” regimes. 4. In refusing to negotiate with certain regimes, President Bush may have allowed his moral intuitions to override more pragmatic choices that would have better served the interests of the American people. His rhetoric was highly moralistic,14 often strident, and made frequent references to concepts of good and evil. Of course, rhetoric and decision-making are not the same thing. The president's decisions may well have been made on the basis of a pragmatic comparison of the costs and benefits of different alterna-tives, and then only justified publicly on the basis of morality. With-out looking behind the veil, it is of course impossible to know. But a number of the administration's decisions and policies are consistent with the rhetoric. Bush did not negotiate with Saddam Hussein but instead invaded Iraq. His administration consistently refused to negotiate directly with Iran. And the administration refused to negotiate bilaterally with North Korea concerning its nuclear program. I am not going to explore here the wisdom of these particular decisions. Instead, my point is that President Bush may have relied on his own moral intuitions rather than a careful, pragmatic assessment of the alternatives. President Barack Obama's strategy and rhetoric are much more consistent with my approach. He avoids public statements that demonize regimes or their leaders. The following example, regarding relations with Iran, is worth quoting at length because of its sophistication and good sense:As odious as I consider some of [Iranian] President Ahmadinejad's statements, as deep as the differences that exist between the United States and Iran on a range of core issues … the use of tough, hard- headed diplomacy, diplomacy with no illusions about Iran and the nature of the differences between our two countries, is critical when it comes to pursuing a core set of our national security interests, specifically, making sure that we are not seeing a nuclear arms race in the Middle East triggered by Iran obtaining a nuclear weapon, making sure that Iran is not exporting terrorist activity. In other words, President Obama is not only willing to negotiate with evil, his rhetoric implies a presumption in favor of it. He is focusing on American interests—avoiding nuclear proliferation and not exporting terrorism. That I like his approach does not mean that in the years to come President Obama's decisions will necessarily be wise. As of this writing in 2009, President Obama is still in the first year of his presidency. It is too soon to tell how his approach will translate into practice. President Obama faces many of the same foreign policy dilemmas that President Bush did. Should we negotiate with the Taliban, Hamas, or Hezbollah? Even though none of these groups currently controls a national government, they each have the capacity to harm the United States. It is easy to imagine possible deals that might serve U.S. interests but would expose a tension between pragmatism and principle. Should we negotiate with Iran and North Korea, and if so, how? I am eager to see how President Obama manages the tensions we've explored in this book. As he and future presidents grapple with these questions, we as citizens will have to decide for ourselves whether their decisions are wise. My goal in writing this book was not to offer easy answers. I end my journey with a deep sense of humility. Deciding whether to negotiate with the Devil poses profound questions and this book is hardly the last word. But my approach should allow you to think more clearly about how to navigate this terrain with integrity—and wisdom.
Tags: Book Summary,Negotiation,Management,Politics,

Thursday, October 10, 2024

Business Devils & Giant Software Wars - IBM vs. Fujitsu


To see other books: Summaries
Part 1

The IBM vs. Fujitsu legal dispute in the 1980s centered on accusations that Fujitsu had illegally copied IBM’s operating system software for mainframe computers. IBM saw this as theft of its intellectual property, while Fujitsu believed it had followed the terms of a previous settlement. The conflict escalated to arbitration, where mediators Jack Jones and Robert Mnookin were tasked with finding a resolution.

On September 15, 1987, a press conference was held in New York, marking a turning point in the dispute. Mnookin and Jones announced a framework to resolve the conflict, which included Fujitsu paying IBM a lump sum for past software use and setting future guidelines for software interactions between the two companies. This solution, aimed at avoiding legal battles, created a private set of rules specifically for IBM and Fujitsu, departing from traditional intellectual property law. The framework was designed to keep disputes out of court and ensure both companies could continue their business without disruption.

Despite ongoing animosity between the companies, the arbitrators crafted a solution that balanced the interests of both parties, ensuring competition occurred in the marketplace rather than the courtroom. The complex arbitration process, which involved international legal principles and high-stakes negotiations, was a groundbreaking example of dispute resolution.

Part 2

IBM engaged in a 13-year legal battle, led by Tom Barr, against competitors Fujitsu and Hitachi over software copying, particularly concerning operating system and middleware programs. Barr's legal strategy was likened to military combat, requiring intense commitment from his team. The conflict stemmed from the Japanese government's efforts in the 1970s to foster a domestic computer industry capable of challenging IBM's dominance, with Fujitsu and Hitachi developing IBM-compatible computers.

Fujitsu’s decision to create its own IBM-compatible operating system, instead of licensing IBM's, led to significant issues. In 1982, IBM discovered that both Fujitsu and Hitachi had copied its technology. Hitachi was caught in a sting operation, and IBM later confirmed extensive copying in Fujitsu’s software, prompting legal action.

A 1983 settlement attempted to resolve the conflict but was flawed and vague. The deal required Fujitsu to pay IBM and avoid further copying, but ambiguity led to further disputes. Fujitsu felt the agreement was about mending relations, while IBM viewed it as legally binding. The cultural differences between Japanese and American perspectives on contracts exacerbated tensions, leading to a new confrontation in 1985 when IBM accused Fujitsu of further violations. Both companies prepared for arbitration, with the first hearing taking place in 1986.

The case underscored differences in contractual interpretation and expectations, as well as the intense rivalry between the U.S. and Japan during that period.

Part 3

The passage recounts a complex legal arbitration between IBM and Fujitsu over alleged software copying, filled with challenges in communication, legal issues, and cultural differences. The arbitration, initially led by lawyer Tom Barr, involved prolonged questioning, translation difficulties, and disagreements over how to handle the dispute.

The core issue centered on whether Fujitsu had copied IBM’s software, particularly regarding copyright law’s protection of “structure, sequence, and organization” in programs, not just direct copying of code. The case involved the analysis of millions of lines of code, which made resolving each claim time-consuming and difficult. Fujitsu argued they had rights to IBM’s information under prior agreements, while IBM sought broad protection for its intellectual property.

The arbitration stretched on for months, with disputes over educating the panel on software technology and disagreements on which programs to compare first. IBM sought to resolve the case quickly through a summary judgment, but it was denied. The parties eventually opted for mediation after Barr suggested an alternative approach. Mediators Robert and Jack worked to foster a deal between the companies through "shuttle diplomacy," where they negotiated separately with each party.

Cultural differences were a major factor, especially with Fujitsu’s reluctance to negotiate directly with IBM and their slower, consensus-driven decision-making process. Eventually, a deal was reached on a part of the dispute, where Fujitsu agreed to add programs to a list and pay IBM $30 million. Despite this small victory, both sides still faced significant legal and technical challenges.

Ultimately, mediators pushed for a forward-looking solution that would establish clear rules on Fujitsu's use of IBM’s material, aiming for certainty and long-term resolution. This required tearing up previous agreements and starting fresh, recognizing that the older contracts had been flawed from the outset.

Part 4

The 1983 agreement between IBM and Fujitsu had a critical flaw regarding "external information"—there were no clear guidelines on what information IBM was required to provide to Fujitsu, how Fujitsu could access it, or at what cost. IBM proposed selling Fujitsu a license for the information, but Fujitsu rejected this, fearing IBM would withhold essential details. Fujitsu instead wanted direct access to IBM’s source code, which IBM found unacceptable.

To resolve this, a “Secured Facility Regime” was established. A secure site was created where a small group of Fujitsu programmers, isolated from their colleagues, could access IBM materials under strict supervision. The external information was documented, vetted by IBM, and then passed to Fujitsu engineers developing software. This agreement was formalized in the 1987 “Washington Agreement.” Although negotiation details were left to IBM and Fujitsu, they ultimately failed to reach an agreement, requiring further intervention by an independent panel.

The process involved extensive rule-making, and IBM and Fujitsu assembled technical teams to define the external information and set pricing for Fujitsu’s license and access fees. IBM eventually built its own secured facility to verify Fujitsu’s compliance, but no disputes arose. While arbitration wasn’t perfect, it led to a workable solution that enabled both companies to compete without further conflict. The process demonstrated that, in some cases, external intervention is necessary to break deadlocks, especially in high-stakes, competitive disputes.

Part 5

The text discusses the complexities of a lawsuit involving Fujitsu and IBM, highlighting the advantages of arbitration over conventional litigation, particularly given the technical and copyright issues involved. The parties avoided a jury trial, which would have struggled with these complexities, and instead opted for a hybrid arbitration process that allowed flexibility in decision-making.

The arbitrators adopted a facilitative approach, encouraging the parties to negotiate while also having the authority to impose outcomes when necessary. This "med-arb" process enabled the parties to navigate their disputes more effectively, with intermediaries providing a safer environment for negotiations, especially for Fujitsu, which initially refused direct negotiations with IBM.

The text emphasizes the importance of the lawyers in designing the dispute resolution system, ultimately leading to a successful settlement. By 1997, five years before the scheduled end of the arbitration, Fujitsu had shifted focus away from IBM compatibility, leading to the dissolution of the special regime and a return to an ordinary business relationship. The outcome is likened to a significant diplomatic breakthrough, underscoring the potential impact of effective mediation and arbitration in resolving complex disputes.

Part 6: Conculsion

The conclusion of the Fujitsu vs. IBM case was the successful resolution of their long-standing disputes regarding technology and copyright issues through a unique hybrid arbitration process.

Key points of the conclusion include:

Resolution of Conflict: The arbitration allowed the parties to reach an agreement without the need for a protracted court battle, which would have been complicated by technical and legal issues.

Return to Ordinary Business Relations: By 1997, both companies decided that the special arbitration regime was no longer necessary, as Fujitsu had shifted its business focus away from IBM-compatible products. They officially announced a return to a standard business relationship governed by ordinary law.

Effective Dispute Resolution: The hybrid process facilitated negotiations between the two companies, even when direct discussions were initially avoided, demonstrating the effectiveness of alternative dispute resolution mechanisms.

Impact on Business Models: The resolution provided Fujitsu the time to transition to a new business model, reflecting changes in the tech landscape away from mainframe systems.

In essence, the case concluded with a mutually beneficial resolution that allowed both companies to move forward without the burden of ongoing litigation.

Reference

This is taken from the chapter (7) of the book: Bargaining with the devil - When to negotiate, when to fight By: Mnookin, Robert Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Tags: Negotiation,Book Summary,Video

Saturday, July 22, 2023

May 1940 — Should Churchill Negotiate With Hitler?

Early in World War II, in May 1940, British prime minister Winston Churchill met with a large group of his cabinet-rank ministers and announced a fateful decision. He told them: “I have thought carefully in these last days whether it was part of my duty to consider entering negotiations with That Man." That Man was, of course, Adolf Hitler. At the meeting, Churchill did more than announce that he would not negotiate with Hitler. With the rhetorical flair so characteristic of his wartime speeches, Churchill declared that Great Britain must fight to the finish: “If this long island story of ours is to end at last, let it end only when each of us lies choking in his own blood upon the ground.” This chapter tells the story of Churchill's decision and the secret deliberations that preceded it. For three days, Churchill and the members of his War Cabinet debated and wrestled with the question of whether to pursue peace negotiations with Nazi Germany. Later in the chapter, I will assess the wisdom of Churchill's refusal to negotiate. Should he instead have tried to negotiate a compromise peace with Hitler? Today, many would find this question absurd. Of course Churchill's decision was wise. No regime in history was more evil than Hitler's. If there was ever a time to reject compromise, this was it. Of course, we know the rest of the story: the British endured the Nazi onslaught during the Battle of Britain, the United States and the Soviet Union eventually joined the war effort, and the Allies crushed Hitler's regime. Most historians—and laymen—see Churchill's refusal to negotiate as not only right, but heroic. However, Churchill's decision seems obvious only in hindsight. What if we go back in time to May 1940? In his own magisterial, six-volume history of World War II, Churchill did not even acknowledge that extended War Cabinet discussions had taken place, much less that the cabinet had seriously considered opening a channel for negotiations with the Germans. Lord Halifax, his foreign secretary, also denied it. But the secret minutes of these cabinet meetings— long classified—reveal a much more complex reality and an intense debate. As we shall see, it was a close call. ~~~ The War Cabinet was made up of five men, including Churchill, who formulated Britain's war policy. As prime minister, Churchill had appointed the other four members: Edward, Lord Halifax, his foreign secretary; Neville Chamberlain, the former prime minister; and two leaders of the Labor Party, Clement Attlee and Arthur Greenwood. Neither Attlee nor Greenwood plays a critical role in our story. Halifax, Chamberlain, and Churchill do. Their deliberations and struggle in May 1940 occurred against a backdrop of earlier differences among the three men about Britain's prewar foreign policy of appeasement. Today appeasement is a dirty word. But it can be defined in more neutral terms as “the policy of settling international quarrels by admitting and satisfying grievances through rational negotiation and compromise, thereby avoiding the resort to an armed conflict which would be expensive, bloody, and possibly dangerous." While the notion of appeasement now carries a “shameful and even craven” connotation, quite the opposite was true in Great Britain during most of the 1930s. At that time, “the policy of appeasement … occupied almost the whole moral high ground. The word was originally synonymous with idealism, magnanimity of the victor and a willingness to right wrongs.” When Hitler began annexing territory in the mid-1930s, many in Great Britain thought he was simply trying to right the “wrongs” of Versailles. The Versailles Treaty of 1919 had transformed the map of Europe after World War I, carving up old nations, creating new ones, and literally cutting Germany down to size. Germany lost vast amounts of territory to France, Belgium, Poland, and the entirely new nation of Czechoslovakia. By the1930s, many in Britain had come to believe that Versailles had treated Germany unfairly. Other factors favored the British policy of appeasement. After the horrors of World War I, many Britons felt that another war in Europe should be avoided “at almost any cost.” As a practical matter, Britain was totally unprepared to fight another war. And some conservatives viewed the fascists in Germany and Italy as bulwarks against communism, which was seen as a far worse menace. So in 1936, when Hitler violated Versailles by reoccupying the demilitarized Rhineland—Germany's own “backyard”—Britain did nothing to stop him. Churchill, then a Conservative backbencher, was the only one in British politics who “wanted to call Hitler's bluff" with a display of force. He was ignored. Throughout the 1930s, Churchill would remain one of the very few voices warning of the dangers of German rearmament. Chamberlain became prime minister in 1937, and both he and Halifax are associated with appeasement because of their failure to resist German aggression in the late 1930s. Hitler's next target was the Sudeten region of Czechoslovakia, which included a significant German-speaking population. Hitler launched a vitriolic propaganda campaign, threatening the Czech government and claiming that the Sudeten Germans were being horribly mistreated under Czech rule. In late 1937, Chamberlain sent Halifax to Germany—on the pretext of attending a hunting exhibition—to meet personally with Hitler and convey a respectful, nineteenth-century message: that Britain understood Germany's concerns about the treatment of German minorities and was not necessarily opposed to changes in the European order, as long as they were made peacefully. In a high water mark of appeasement, Halifax complimented Hitler on “performing great services in Germany” and expressed Britain's hope that any modification of the Versailles Treaty would come through “peaceful evolution." Chamberlain later declared that Halifax's visit was a great success in “convinc[ing] Hitler of our sincerity." Soon afterward, Halifax became foreign secretary. In fact, Halifax and Chamberlain had completely misread Hitler, who was not playing by Marquess of Queensbury rules. The visit convincedHitler of something else entirely—that the British were so desperate to avoid war that he could maneuver freely in Europe without risk of their putting up a fight. He moved quickly. In 1938, he marched into Vienna and incorporated Austria into his Reich without firing a shot. Next he demanded that the Sudetenland be annexed to Germany and that all non-German Czechs leave the region. Trying to avert war, Chamberlain hastily arranged a four-power conference in Munich that excluded the Czech government. The result was a historic shift in the European balance of power. The Munich Agreement among the four great powers—Britain, France, Italy, and Germany— allowed the Nazis to absorb the Sudetenland in return for Hitler's promise to allow an international commission to settle any other German claims over Czech territory. The Czechs were presented with a fait accompli. At Chamberlain's request, Hitler also signed a piece of paper—soon to prove worthless—in which Germany and Britain promised to resolve their differences peacefully. Chamberlain returned to England, “peace treaty” in hand, proclaiming “peace with honor” and “peace for our time.” The British public rejoiced when they heard the news, but Churchill proclaimed it a “total and unmitigated defeat” and a “disaster of the first magnitude” for both Britain and France. Speaking before the House of Commons, he said, “Do not let us blind ourselves to that. It must now be accepted that all the countries of Central and Eastern Europe will make the best terms they can with the triumphant Nazi Power. The system of alliances in Central Europe upon which France has relied for her safety has been swept away, and I can see no means by which it can be reconstituted." He said he did not blame the British people for their “natural, spontaneous” outburst of relief that war had been averted for the moment. But they should know the truth. They should know that there has been gross neglect and deficiency in our defenses; they should know that we have sustained a defeat without a war, the consequences of which will travel far with us along our road; they should know that we have passed an awful milestone in our history, when the whole equilibrium of Europe has been deranged, and that the terrible wordshave for the time being been pronounced against the Western democracies: “Thou are weighed in the balance and found wanting.” And do not suppose that this is the end. This is only the beginning of the reckoning. This is only the first sip, the first fore-taste of a bitter cup which will be proffered to us year by year unless, by a supreme recovery of moral health and martial vigour, we arise again and take our stand for freedom as in the olden time. Once again, Churchill was proven right. Six months later, in March 1939, Nazi troops marched into Prague and seized what was left of the country. As a consequence, Czechoslovakia disappeared entirely as a nation. That was the end of appeasement as British policy—a humiliating failure from which the reputations of Chamberlain and Halifax would never fully recover. Both men became completely disillusioned with Hitler, adopted a tougher policy of deterrence,19 and began to mobilize Britain for war. As Hitler began to make ominous threats toward Poland, parts of which had substantial German-speaking minorities, Britain and France guaranteed Poland's security through a treaty,20 in effect warning Hitler that if he invaded Poland, there would be war. But it was too late for warnings. Hitler was not to be deterred. On September 1, 1939, the Nazis invaded Poland. Two days later, Britain and France declared war on Germany. The outbreak of World War II brought about rapid changes in British leadership. Churchill, thoroughly vindicated, became first lord of the Admiralty. Poland was overrun in a month. Chamberlain's credibility ebbed and Churchill's grew. In 1940, when Hitler overran Denmark and Norway, British public opinion turned decisively against Chamberlain. Germany had been neither appeased nor deterred, and British mobilization had failed to meet the Nazi challenge. Chamberlain decided he should resign. Both he and King George VI wanted Halifax to replace him. But, for reasons that were never publicly explained, Halifax turned the job down. Winston Churchill became prime minister on May 10, 1940. ~~~ At the pensionable age of sixty-five, Churchill was thrilled at long last to become prime minister. From his youth, he had been persuaded that he was a man of destiny. He also held “a high romantic view of the monarchy and the empire" that can be easily understood from his background. He was the grandson of the Duke of Marlborough and the son of Lord Randolph Churchill, a Tory politician, who died young and had an unrequited dream of becoming prime minister himself. Winston's American-born mother, née Jennie Jerome, was a famous and pas-sionate beauty. Both were distant and indifferent parents, and Winston's nanny was the “central emotional prop of [his] childhood.” After boarding school at Harrow, Churchill attended the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. The year he graduated, he was commissioned as an officer in the Royal Hussars. As a young officer, Churchill saw combat in India and the Sudan. He was seen as flamboyant and impatient, with a “dominating desire … to attract the greatest possible attention to himself, both on the local and the world scene." An extraordinarily fluent writer, he “lived by phrase making” and supported himself financially during most of his life as a war correspondent and author. By the age of twenty-five, he was already a celebrity because of his capture, imprisonment, and escape during the Second Boer War in South Africa, which he chronicled as a foreign correspondent. As a politician, he was self-centered, self-confident, and nakedly ambitious. By twenty-six, he was a Conservative member of Parliament, but his independent views soon forced him to switch parties and become a Liberal. By thirty-three, he was a cabinet minister, and during World War I he held a variety of important posts. He became chancellor of the exchequer in 1924 under a Conservative prime minister and formally rejoined the Conservative Party the following year. “[A]nyone can rat,” he quipped, “but it takes a certain amount of ingenuity to re-rat.” The Tories hardly welcomed him back as a prodigal son. To many of them, Churchill's “wit and oratorical ability were not enough to overcome severe doubts about his judgment.” Many saw him as “unscrupulous, unreliable and unattractively ambitious”—a “political turncoat” who had twice changed his party affiliation. His personal eccentricities only alienated them further. He spoke with a lisp and a stutter. He wore loudsuits and bow ties. His bowler hat and cigar seemed like theatrical props. He gambled and consumed great quantities of alcohol. By 1929, his political career hit the skids and he entered his “wilderness years” as a Tory backbencher with trivial influence. Eleven years later, when he finally shook off the dust of wilderness and moved into 10 Downing Street, he knew that his support in Parliament was still thin, especially in his own Conservative Party. “The strange dress, ridiculous hats, heavy drinking and pronounced speech impediment did little to encourage the Tory old guard to respect him for much more than having been proved right about the German threat.” Indeed, they considered him dangerously impulsive and apt to get carried away by his own rhetoric. Would he lead from the head or the heart? They feared the latter. Many in the Tory establishment saw Churchill as a “Rogue Elephant” whom the “wise old elephants”—Chamberlain and Halifax—might not be able to control. ~~~ During Churchill's first two weeks as prime minister, the war went from bad to worse. Hitler conquered the Netherlands, invaded Belgium, and surged into northern France. Britain had sent troops to the continent to support the French, but they were unable to stop the German army. The United States was standing on the sidelines, rooting for Britain and France but doing little to help. Churchill wrote several personal letters to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt pleading for assistance, but none came. Worst of all, by May 23, 1940, the German army had surrounded the Allied troops near the French-Belgian border. Some 250,000 British soldiers appeared to be trapped, along with a roughly equal number of French troops. The British public had no understanding of just how bad things were. Churchill knew he would have to “prepare public opinion for bad tidings. … [W]hat was now happening in Northern France would be the greatest British military defeat for many centuries." It was against this desperate backdrop that Churchill and his War Cabinet were forced to consider negotiating with Hitler. It was Edward, Lord Halifax who pressed for the possibility of negotiation. Like Churchill, Halifax was an English aristocrat but one with very different values and temperament. Born Edward Wood on April 16, 1881, he was the fourth son of a viscount and eventually inherited his father's title because his three older brothers had died of childhood diseases. He was born without a left hand, but his life was not much affected by it. His family was enormously wealthy, largely because a huge seam of coal lay under a portion of their lands. Educated at Eton and Oxford, he was personally rich by the time he graduated from university because of large inheritances from a number of uncles and aunts. In 1909, Halifax went into politics and stood for a seat in Parliament. Thereafter, he pursued a “bright and successful” career as a Tory politician. An “intensely private man,” he was genuinely modest and “found it hard to lose his temper." Like his father, he was a devout High Church Anglican who exuded moral rectitude. Most of all, he was respectable. Halifax's nickname became “The Holy Fox” because he was both religious and cunning. He believed deeply in original sin. “Far from a pious blindness to the evils of the world, Halifax was [all] too keenly aware of men's failings. He was if anything more guilty of cynicism than monkish innocence." He saw himself as a pragmatist, not an ideologue. His diplomatic and political career demonstrated a willingness to “[c]ompromise, a degree of guile, and an awareness of the realities of life” that, to him, were fully consistent with his spiritual values. As he would later write, “Many of our intellectual difficulties come from an attempt to think that the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of this world are concerned with the same problems. … [I]n a very vital sense they are not.” Halifax's values and prejudices, however, were those of his class. He saw the world through the eyes of an English landed aristocrat, whose political goals were to safeguard Britain's independence, continuing imperial role, and honor. Roy Jenkins, in his biography of Churchill, wrote that Halifax had a “resigned desire to preserve as much as he could of the England he knew and loved … the landscape, the ordered hierarchical society, the freedom from oppression or vulgar ostentation." All of these factors attracted him to the possibility of a negotiated peace that would honorably get Great Britain out of a terrible war. That possibility arose on May 25, 1940, when Halifax held a pivotal meeting in London with the Italian ambassador to Great Britain, GiuseppeBastianini. Halifax's purpose was to explore whether Italy might be induced —that is, bribed—to stay out of the war. Although Italy was officially a noncombatant, it had signed a “Pact of Steel” (an alliance) with Nazi Germany and amassed twenty thousand troops on the French-Italian border. There was reason to think Italy might soon join the Nazis, invade France, and claim some booty. Perhaps, Halifax thought, Italy could be bought off at a reasonable price. Churchill knew about this meeting in advance and asked only that it be kept secret and that Halifax do nothing to suggest a lack of resolve on the part of Great Britain. But I suspect that Halifax, the “Holy Fox,” went to the meeting hoping delicately to explore a second and even more far-reaching possibility—one that he had not disclosed to Churchill or the War Cabinet. Might Mussolini play a role as mediator in facilitating negotiations aimed at ending the war? Halifax left no incriminating fingerprints, so it will never be known whether he went into the meeting wanting to plant this seed. But by the end of the meeting the idea had sprouted. Halifax's written report of the meeting suggests that the Italian ambassador planted the idea. According to the report, Italy agreed to discuss its relationship with Great Britain only in the broader context of a “just and enduring European settlement.” Was Britain interested, the ambassador asked, in discussions that might include this “greater framework”? Such a conversation would involve “other countries”—which, of course, would include Germany. Halifax, using the double negative so favored by wily diplomats, gave the ambassador permission to inform Mussolini that “His Majesty's Government did not exclude the possibility of some discussion of the wider problems of Europe” (emphasis added). Halifax presented this hot potato to the War Cabinet the next day. For three days, they would be forced to discuss his plan.

The Deliberations

Sunday, May 26, was anything but a day of rest for the War Cabinet. Churchill began by reporting the dire military circumstances on the ground. Belgium was about to capitulate. The French were close to collapse, and250,000 British soldiers were cornered in northern France. Soon Britain might be facing both Germany and Italy alone. Against this backdrop, Halifax told the War Cabinet about his meeting with the Italian ambassador. In light of the desperate military situation, he said, British war aims had to be narrowed: it was no longer a matter of “imposing a complete defeat upon Germany but of safeguarding the independence of our own Empire and if possible that of France." He thought that Mussolini wished to secure peace in Europe and that the Italians might be open to facilitating a discussion about a “general European settlement,” but that the discussion would have to include Germany. From the outset, Churchill was deeply skeptical. In his view, Hitler would never accept any negotiated deal unless it allowed Germany to dominate Europe, which Britain “could never accept” because it would threaten Britain's security. “We must ensure our complete liberty and independence,” he said. But nothing was decided, and everyone left the meeting knowing the discussion would continue. When the War Cabinet met again in the early afternoon, the differences between Churchill and Halifax came into sharper focus. Halifax argued strongly in favor of an approach to Italy, saying that “the last thing Signor Mussolini wanted was to see” a Europe dominated by Hitler. Churchill was still skeptical, but he conceded that “the matter was one that the War Cabinet would need to consider." Halifax began the first of several attempts to pin Churchill down. Given that Britain's security and independence were in such danger, he said, “we should naturally be prepared to consider any proposals that might lead to [restoring that security], provided our liberty and independence are assured” (emphasis added). Then he asked the key question: If Churchill was “satisfied that matters vital to the independence of this country were unaffected,” was he “prepared to discuss such terms?” Churchill did not say no. In fact, he appeared to say yes. He said he would be “thankful to get out of our present difficulties on such terms, provided we retain the essentials and the elements of our vital strength even at the cost of some territory” (emphasis added). But he went on to add that he did not believe that such a deal was possible.The third meeting that day took place around dinnertime. In the interim, Churchill had met with the French prime minister, Paul Reynaud, who confirmed that the French military situation was all but hopeless. Churchill's response to him was typically pugnacious: “We would rather go down fighting,” he said, “than be enslaved to Germany.” He brought that defiant attitude back to the War Cabinet that evening, where his debate with Halifax became increasingly tense. If France collapsed, Churchill declared, Britain must not go down with her. The two nations had mutually pledged not to make a separate peace with Germany, but Churchill now wanted to release France from this treaty obligation. “If France could not defend herself, it was better that she get out of the war rather than drag us into a settlement which involved intolerable terms,” Churchill said. Churchill predicted that Hitler would demand the most outrageous terms possible—including British disarmament. There was “no limit to the terms that Germany would impose on us if she had her way.” Halifax was not so sure. He saw no evidence that Germany wanted to “enslave” Britain. In fact, he didn't think it was in Hitler's interest to insist on outrageous terms. Halifax believed that Hitler's primary goal—as stated —was to unite all German-speaking peoples under one roof and to create “Lebensraum” (“living room”) in the east for expansion. In order to accomplish that goal, Hitler wanted territory in Eastern Europe, not Britain. Therefore, Halifax thought, Hitler might want to stop fighting on the western front so he could focus his military power on the Soviet Union. Halifax may even have thought, why not push him in that direction? The one thing Britain and Germany shared was their hatred of the communists. Halifax was a balance-of-power strategist who no doubt believed that this war, like most wars, would eventually end with a negotiated agreement in which territorial concessions would be made to the stronger party. Some concessions would have to be made to Hitler, and Mussolini would expect a little pourboire for his own helpful behavior,49 but this could be accomplished by some horse-trading among colonies. So Halifax pressed his point: How could you know that Hitler would insist on outrageous terms if there was no discussion? Moreover, Britain's interests could be declared in advance. “[W]e might say to Signor Mussolini that if there was any suggestion of terms which affected our independence, we should not look atthem for a moment.” And Mussolini might well be alarmed by Hitler and “look at matters from the point of view of the balance of power." Why not find out? Where was the harm in trying this approach? Churchill's response suggested that he saw Hitler as a bully with boundless ambitions. “Herr Hitler thought that he had the whiphand. The only thing to do was to show him that he could not conquer this country.” Where was Chamberlain in all of this? He did not say a great deal at this meeting, and in historian John Lukacs's view he “now sat on the fence.” But his diary entry that evening suggested he was leaning in Churchill's direction. Chamberlain summarized the prime minister's outlook: “[I]f we could get out of this jam by giving up Malta and Gibraltar and some African colonies he would jump at it. But the only safe way was to convince Hitler that he couldn't beat us.” Let's step back for a moment and ask how Spock might assess the Churchill-Halifax debate to this point. The issue was: What would Hitler insist upon in peace negotiations? Churchill was assuming the worst and presenting it as fact. Although the record doesn't show him saying this directly, he saw Hitler as a megalomaniac bent on nothing less than world domination. Churchill's instincts had been terrific in the past, and his predictions about Hitler had so far been accurate, but he had not even come close to explaining why he thought Hitler had a vital interest in enslaving Britain and destroying its empire. Halifax, by contrast, was sticking to the known facts: The situation on the ground was dire, and it was unknown what the Germans would agree to. Why wouldn't it be wise, and indeed honorable, to see if a settlement could be achieved on reasonable terms? Spock would consider that a logical question. Moreover, Spock would ask rhetorically, what was the alternative to negotiation? Continued fighting—in which the Germans would direct their formidable airpower against Britain and perhaps invade. In May 1940, the outcome of such a fight was highly uncertain. In fact, the odds were pretty clearly against Britain. So it was easy to imagine a negotiated deal that might serve both sides' interests better than continued war: the Germans would get de facto control of Europe, including France, while Britain would keep its independence, its military, and nearly all of its empire (after ceding a few territorial crumbs tothe Italians). There were three questions: Would Hitler agree to such a deal, would an agreement with Hitler be worth the paper it was printed on, and would the costs of that deal, including the loss of sovereignty for most of Europe, be acceptable to the British? Through bitter experience, Halifax and Chamberlain had come to share Churchill's view that Hitler was a completely unreliable negotiating partner. Even if the war ended now, Hitler might attack Britain later. Spock would agree that this was a significant risk. But he would ask: Which nation, Germany or Britain, would benefit more from a hiatus in the war? Britain was not yet fully mobilized. If Hitler headed east and attacked Russia, as expected, it would absorb vast amounts of German manpower and materiel. That could only be good for Britain, which needed time to reach full strength. Of course, in those desperate days in May 1940, the War Cabinet meetings were too chaotic to allow for a Spock-like discussion at this level. But Halifax's argument was strong enough to force Churchill to take another tack. Churchill's second argument was that Britain must not be forced into the weak position of going to Mussolini and Hitler and asking them to “treat us nicely. We must not get entangled in a position of that kind before we had been involved in serious fighting." In other words, this was not the right time to pursue negotiations because Britain had not yet proved it could put up a real fight. A willingness to engage in negotiation now would signal weakness. But perhaps after a few months of heroic fighting, Churchill suggested, the time would be ripe. To Halifax, this was supremely illogical: In three months, Britain might be bombed to a smoking ruin. Where would its bargaining power be then? Was Churchill seriously willing to take that risk? This was just the kind of emotional argument that Churchill's critics dreaded. Halifax was aghast. If Britain could “obtain terms which did not postulate the destruction of our independence,” Halifax insisted, “we should be foolish if we did not accept them.” In other words, he was arguing that it would be stupid, given the situation on the ground, to turn down a negotiated deal that provided for continued British independence.Here again, I think Spock would say that Halifax was making more sense than Churchill. In fact, I suspect the issue of timing was a makeshift argument on Churchill's part. True, one could always fight now and negotiate later, but Churchill had not explained why he felt justified in taking such a huge risk. Frankly, I think Halifax had Churchill on the ropes. If the analysis were to stop here, one might well conclude that wisdom would obligate Churchill to explore the possibility of negotiation by using the Italians as an intermediary. Perhaps sensing this, Churchill backed off and the cabinet agreed that Halifax should prepare a draft of his proposal. By the end of the evening, Halifax had produced a document that was a masterpiece of obfuscation: “If Signor Mussolini will co-operate with us in securing a settlement of all European questions which safeguard[s] the independence and security of the Allies, and could be the basis of a just and durable peace for Europe, we will undertake at once to discuss, with the desire to find solutions, the matters in which Signor Mussolini is primarily interested." This was to be coupled with a backchannel request that the United States make the first approach to Mussolini, not Britain or France. Roosevelt would inform Mussolini that the French and British would consider Italian territorial claims only if Italy stayed out of the war. Note that this document conflates two goals: buying Italy off to keep it out of the war, and persuading Mussolini to mediate peace. As several scholarly commentators have noted, there is an obvious tension between them. “Buying off Italy facilitated the war against Germany, Italian mediation meant its end.” What was Halifax up to? I believe he was pursuing both goals and knew he had to tread carefully. The entire cabinet supported the first goal: keeping Italy out of the war. The problem was the second goal, to which Churchill was adamantly opposed. Halifax may have hoped that by emphasizing the first goal, he might keep the door open to the second.

Monday, May 27

Before the morning session, Halifax was in despair. He told a colleague, “I can't work with Winston any longer." A showdown was inevitable.But it would have to wait. The morning meeting focused on the terrible military situation on the continent. British troops were still trapped in northern France, and the prospects for evacuating them from Calais or Dunkirk were not promising. Churchill doubted he could save more than fifty thousand men. But preparations were under way. “Around the coast of Southern England, hastily improvised flotillas of small ships, trollers, tug boats, tiny motor launches—anything that was serviceable—were being assembled and setting sail to try and do their bit in rescuing the stranded army." In many ways it was the “worst day of the entire Dunkirk saga,” according to Lukacs. “The Germans ruled the air, with relatively little interference from the Royal Air Force … [The German dive-bombers were attacking] the columns of the British and French retreating along the dusty roads and lanes toward the town and port … [T]he British were systematically destroying their vehicles, stores, ordnance and other equipment" to prevent their use by the German army. With the collapse of France imminent, it was far from clear whether Britain could fight on alone. A top secret report, commissioned by Churchill, indicated that Great Britain could successfully resist the Germans, provided that it maintained air superiority and the United States gave it substantial economic support. But both conditions were open to serious question. The United States had provided virtually no help and could not be counted on. Little wonder that Alexander Cadogan, an invited guest to the War Cabinet meeting that day, summarized the session as follows: “Cabinet at 11:30—as gloomy as ever. See very little light anywhere." The War Cabinet didn't take up Halifax's proposal until late afternoon, by which time the ground had shifted. A key piece of news had arrived. The British ambassador to Rome had cabled that Mussolini would soon declare war on France and that “nothing we could do would be of any value at this stage, so far as Signor Mussolini was concerned." Halifax was in a real bind. He could see that Italy probably could not be kept out of the war. But even so, Mussolini still might serve as a mediator, and Halifax was determined to keep this idea alive. French prime minister Reynaud, still desperately hoping to buy Italy off, had begged Halifax topresent to the War Cabinet a plan for an even bolder and more concrete offer to Mussolini, one that specified with “geographical precision” exactly what would be given to Italy to stay out of the war. Halifax brought Reynaud's proposal to the War Cabinet and argued that something should be done to show support of France. Chamberlain agreed, saying that “the proposed French approach to Signor Mussolini would serve no useful purpose” but that he was willing to do so anyway in order to prevent the French from later claiming that Great Britain had stubbornly “been unwilling even to allow them the chance of negotiations with Italy." Churchill would have none of this. He scorned the Halifax-Chamberlain argument as suggesting that “nothing would come of the approach, but that it was worth doing to sweeten relations with a failing ally." At this point, an invited guest chimed in and explicitly gave Churchill the broader argument he had been searching for—one that rejected any approach to Italy for either of Halifax's purposes. Archibald Sinclair, the air minister, was a Churchill supporter and, more important, head of the Liberal Party. During the previous evening's debate, Churchill had shrewdly persuaded the cabinet to include Sinclair in the discussion of Halifax's proposal. Sinclair now contended that an approach to Italy would be worse than futile: it would be actively harmful to British interests. Even appearing to be willing to negotiate would be disastrous. “Being in a tight corner, any weakness on our part would encourage the Germans and the Italians, and would tend to undermine morale both in this country and in the Dominions. The suggestion that we were prepared to barter away pieces of British territory would have a deplorable effect that would make it difficult for us to continue the struggle that faced us.” (Emphasis supplied.) Attlee and Greenwood warmed to this argument. Soon Greenwood was declaring that “[i]t would be heading for disaster to go any further with those approaches.” Halifax felt compelled to clarify and explain: He was not supporting the French plan of specific concessions to Italy. Instead, he was simply proposing to keep the lines of communication with Italy open. Churchill, perhaps sensing that he had been given his strongest argument and that the tide within the cabinet was running in his direction, boldly vowed that any approach to the Italians “would ruin the integrity of our fighting position in this country. … Even if we did not include geographicalprecision and mentioned no names, everybody would know what we had in mind.” With great passion he then went further: “[L]et us not be dragged down with France. If the French were not prepared to go on with the struggle, let them give up. … The best help we could give to M. Reynaud was to let him feel that, whatever happened to France, we were going to fight it out to the end.” Perhaps fearing that the conflict between Churchill and his foreign secretary was about to spin out of control, Chamberlain tried to calm things down. He offered a compromise: “to keep the French in a good temper … our reply should not be a complete refusal.” Why not defer any response to France until Roosevelt first contacted Mussolini? But Churchill ignored the suggestion and instead made an even more provocative claim: “If the worse came to the worst” and Britain had to face Hitler alone, “it would not be a bad thing for this country to go down fighting for the other countries which had been overcome by the Nazi tyranny.” Now this was crazy. Did it make any rational sense for Britain to sacrifice itself in a losing battle on behalf of occupied Europe? Did Churchill have any right, as a national leader, to sacrifice his countrymen on such a basis? In my opinion, absolutely not. At this point Halifax was fed up with Churchill's florid rhetoric. He pointed out that Churchill was contradicting himself right and left. The day before, Churchill had said “he would be thankful to get out of our present difficulties” on terms that preserved British independence, “even at the cost of some cession of territory.” Now Churchill was saying that “under no conditions would we contemplate any course except fighting to the finish.” The day before, Churchill had indicated that he wasn't opposed to negotiation in general, as long as the timing was right. Now he was reneging on that, too. Churchill softened somewhat, perhaps recognizing that he had gone too far. “If Herr Hitler was prepared to make peace on the terms of the restoration of German colonies and the overlordship of Central Europe, that was one thing,” he soothed. “But it was quite unlikely that he would make any such offer.” In trying to placate Halifax, Churchill had created a new ambiguity, which Halifax went after. Was Churchill saying that he was simply waiting for Germany to make an offer? In Halifax's view, such a scenario was notso hypothetical. “Suppose the French Army collapsed and Herr Hitler made an offer of peace terms,” Halifax challenged. “Suppose Herr Hitler, being anxious to end the war through knowledge of his own internal weaknesses, offered terms to France and England, would the Prime Minister be prepared to discuss them?” In effect, Halifax was pressing Churchill: Would he “consider any peace terms, at any time?” Thanks to Halifax's probing, Churchill finally clarified where he stood on peace negotiations: “He would not join France in asking for terms; but if he were told what the terms offered were, he would be prepared to consider them.” Nor was he prepared at this time to enter into any process in which Great Britain would appear to be signaling a willingness to negotiate peace terms with Hitler. At this point Halifax may well have been considering resignation. As he would confide to his diary later that night, “I thought Winston talked the most frightful rot, also Greenwood, and after bearing it for some time I told them exactly what I thought of them.” He then added, “If that was really their view, and if it came to the point, our ways must separate." Churchill must have realized how close Halifax was to the edge, because he asked Halifax to join him for a private walk in the garden. There was not any record of what exactly was said, but Halifax's biographer suggests Halifax again threatened to resign and that Churchill “was full of apologies and affection." The biographer concludes, “However much annoyance he had shown, though, Halifax had no intention of resigning. Indeed, the more Churchill hectored, the more convinced he was of the necessity for him to stay. Eventually, he contented himself to confining his exasperation to his diary: 'It does drive me to despair when [Churchill] works himself up into a passion of emotion when he ought to make his brain think and reason.'"

Tuesday, May 28

On Tuesday morning, the news from the continent remained so bleak that the minister of information asked Churchill to make a public statement. For the first time in a week, Churchill appeared before the House of Commons and addressed the nation.“The troops are in good heart,” he reported. “And are fighting with the utmost discipline and tenacity.” He provided no specifics but promised to offer a “detailed report” in about a week, “when the result of the intense struggle now going on can be known and measured.” In the meantime, “the House should prepare itself for hard and heavy tidings.” But he ended his speech with a rousing flourish that was typical of his wartime speeches: “nothing which may happen in this battle can in any way relieve us of our duty to defend the world cause to which we have vowed ourselves; nor should it destroy our confidence in our power to make our way, as on former occasions in our history, through disaster and through grief to the ultimate defeat of our enemies." When the War Cabinet met shortly afterward, Halifax and Churchill crossed swords again. Their brief exchange returned to the core question. Halifax thought peace talks might still be possible if Britain sent a “clear indication that we should like to see mediation by Italy." Churchill retorted that the whole idea of peace talks was a ruse by the French, who “were trying to get us on to the slippery slope” of negotiating with Germany. Churchill did not respond further. He had made up his mind. He knew he had the support of everyone in the War Cabinet except Halifax, who was isolated. At this point, Churchill staged what several commentators have characterized as a “coup.” He adjourned the War Cabinet meeting until 7 p.m. and didn't say where he was going. In the interval, he met with the approximately twenty-five members of the Outer Cabinet—all of his ministers except those in the War Cabinet. It was to this group, not the War Cabinet, that Churchill announced his decision: that he had considered negotiation with “That Man” and firmly rejected it. “It was idle to think that if we try to make peace now we should get better terms from Germany than if we went on and fought it out,” Churchill told the ministers. “The Germans would demand our fleet—that would be called 'disarmament'—our naval bases, and much else. We should become a slave state,” with a “puppet” British government under Oswald Mosley, the founder of the British Union of Fascists, or some similar Nazi sympathizer. Instead, Churchill proclaimed: “We shall go on and we shall fight it out … and if at last the long story is to end, it were better it shouldend, not through surrender, but only when we are rolling senseless on the ground." His speech had an electrifying effect on his listeners. He received enthusiastic support, and not a single minister objected. Churchill would later describe how pleased and surprised he was that “twenty-five experienced politicians and Parliament men, who represented all the different points of view” about Britain's policy toward Germany, would now be so supportive. “Quite a few seemed to jump up from the table and came running to my chair, shouting and patting me on the back.” When Churchill returned to the War Cabinet, he announced what he had done. He described—no doubt with great drama—the scene that had just unfolded before the Outer Cabinet: his ringing announcement that he would not negotiate with Hitler, his vow that “there was no chance of our giving up the struggle,” and the fervent support of the ministers. He expressed the “greatest satisfaction” at their response, saying he “did not remember having ever before heard a gathering of persons occupying high places in political life express themselves so emphatically” in support of Churchill's decision to fight on, and not negotiate. Halifax offered no further dissent. Nor did he resign. Had he done so, especially if Chamberlain had joined him, there would have been a political crisis within the Conservative Party that might have threatened Churchill's ability to remain prime minister. But Churchill had skillfully avoided that risk. Later that year, Churchill sent Halifax to the United States as ambassador, essentially sidelining him for the rest of the war. ~~~ The evacuation from Dunkirk was far more successful than Churchill had any reason to expect. Nearly two hundred thousand troops were safely brought back to England. France fell as predicted, and Britain had to fight on alone. But through the Lend-Lease program, the United States began providing important materiel aid. During the summer and fall of 1940, the Royal Air Force maintained air superiority and Churchill maintained public morale during the Battle of Britain. As a result, Hitler gave up any thought of invading Great Britain and instead turned east and invaded the Soviet Union. This gave Britain an ally—the Soviets. By the end of 1941, the United States joined Great Britain and the Soviet Union in their fight against Germany. Eventually the Allies prevailed.

Assessment

Churchill's speech to the Outer Cabinet was eloquent and stirring, and it epitomizes the rhetorical use of negative traps: he demonized Hitler's regime and called his ministers to battle by invoking tribal loyalty. His later war speeches to the British people were equally stirring. Earlier in the book, I said that if you're a leader, you have an obligation to engage in rational analysis. You don't have the right to act solely on your gut feelings or personal moral beliefs. You have to think things through, to consider the costs and benefits of your alternatives. Does Churchill's decision pass this test? My hunch is that without the benefit of the War Cabinet discussions, Churchill would never have thought through carefully whether to pursue the negotiation path. Even considering making a deal with Hitler was difficult for Churchill. It would have been completely inconsistent with his sense of self and his consciously crafted political identity. Churchill had warned of the dangers of German rearmament and Hitler's megalomania long before others realized it. He was asked to become prime minister because he wanted to fight, not negotiate. To back down now and negotiate with a cruel enemy like Hitler, especially when Hitler was winning the war, would be publicly humiliating—even if some sort of reasonable deal could be struck. If, at some point, Churchill had come to believe that negotiation with Hitler would better serve Great Britain, he would have resigned and let others— such as Lloyd George—handle the negotiations. Churchill was strongly motivated by his personal moral beliefs and gut feelings. He saw Hitler and his Reich as evil. On a visceral level, he found the very idea of negotiating with Hitler to be repugnant. He believed that this kind of evil should be resisted, almost no matter what the consequences. In this respect, he was much like Sharansky. I think he started with an emotionally based gut feeling of what was right and then used his reason to justify the decision. And again like Sharansky, he usedthe negative “traps” to keep himself (and his constituents) committed to a strategy of resistance. Earlier, I concluded that Sharansky's refusal to negotiate with his Soviet captors, notwithstanding the pragmatic benefits of negotiation, was wise because he alone would suffer the consequences if he made the wrong choice. I also said that leaders have an obligation to act on the basis of a pragmatic assessment of the expected benefits and costs of the alternatives, not simply on moral intuitions or gut feelings alone. Sometimes the better part of wisdom is to negotiate, even when you don't want to. Even with an enemy who is evil. As I read the minutes of the War Cabinet discussions, I was powerfully struck by how hard it was for Churchill to translate his intuitive convictions into a persuasive argument. I also gained a respect for Halifax that I had not felt before. Halifax played an important role in the process by pushing Churchill to explain why his intuitions were sound enough to act on. He really put Churchill through his paces, almost as Spock might have done if he had been present. This underscores an important lesson: In deciding whether to enter into nego-tiations with a despised adversary, you can guard against a hasty rejection based simply on your gut instincts by discussing the matter with a colleague who disagrees. Being pushed to give reasons for your inclinations may sometimes lead you to change your mind. And even when it doesn't, it will force you to think through more rationally which course of action makes the most sense. In the end, the War Cabinet's discussion persuades me that Chur-chill's refusal to enter into negotiations was wise. Churchill and Halifax had different perceptions of Hitler's wartime aims and interests—in effect, different predictions amid great uncertainty. We will never know what Hitler might have demanded from Great Britain if negotiations had begun in the middle of 1940. Halifax may have been right, but Churchill's prediction was equally plausible: that Hitler would make unacceptable demands because he was winning the war. That is just the problem: you can't rely on hindsight to know whether you're making a wise decision. A wise decision can turn out badly; it happens all the time. And a stupid decision can have a good outcome; you can be lucky. So the test of wisdom cannot be whether you're proven right in the end. The test is, Did you think it through?With Halifax's help, I think Churchill passed that test. He was surely right in his implicit premise that it would be impossible to keep secret any sort of international conference about ending the war. If peace negotiations failed, they would fail publicly. He was also right that in May 1940, few in Great Britain knew how profound the risks were and how difficult it would be to resist Hitler alone. He was surely justified in being concerned, along with Sinclair and Greenwood, that if the negotiation route failed—and failed, moreover, in the middle of a war which the British were losing — British morale would have been seriously damaged. Britain had gone to war very reluctantly. Now she was the underdog and was taking a terrible beating. That was disheartening enough for the British people. Peace talks would raise hopes that further bloodshed could be avoided, and Churchill believed they were false hopes, which, once dashed, might leave the British too demoralized to fight to the finish. This was not an unreasonable prediction, particularly from a charismatic leader who understood when his rhetorical magic worked and when it did not. Halifax never rebutted Churchill's argument that if the negotiations failed, British morale would have been undermined. By refusing to negotiate, Churchill signaled his determination that Britain would fight on. This signal was sent not just to Germany and other countries but, most importantly, to the British people themselves. He understood that entering into the negotiation process itself is not costless and can create risks. Wise decisions must take these into account. Let me conclude by coming back to the subject of heroism. I must confess that there is something deeply appealing for me about the way Churchill resisted Hitler. And something disturbing about Chamberlain and Halifax's prior policy of appeasement. Churchill is one of my heroes. Chamberlain and Halifax are not. Even I, a strong proponent of negotiation, am not immune to the notion that fighting evil is heroic—and sometimes even thrilling. What, after all, is a hero? A hero is someone who acts on behalf of a principle greater than himself, without regard to his own well-being. Consider the legends in every culture: A hero doesn't negotiate. He fights. To the death if necessary! A hero is willing to risk it all. Negotiating with an evil enemy, by contrast, doesn't seem very heroic. It may be prudent to negotiate and make concessions, but it is rarely romanticor thrilling. It doesn't get the blood going. Nor, I must admit, is the process of negotiating typically exciting. It is often slow and tedious. It drags on and on. But such simple dichotomies can be misleading. The very word appeasement now automatically evokes the story of Chamberlain and Halifax, and the moral of that story is plain: Never try to placate an enemy. The example of Churchill evokes a different narrative: It is heroic to resist evil, especially when standing alone. These are two very powerful narratives, but they can be dangerous because they invite knee-jerk reactions, not careful thought.
Tags: Negotiation,Book Summary,

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Bargaining with the Nazis

Kastner train passengers from Bergen-Belsen to Switzerland, 1944 Natan Sharansky's story had a happy ending. After risking his life by refusing to negotiate with the KGB, he won his freedom and was celebrated as a hero. Rudolf Kasztner made the opposite decision. As a Jewish leader in Nazi- occupied Hungary during World War II, he chose to bargain with Nazi devils—including SS colonel Adolf Eichmann—in an effort to save Jewish lives. Kasztner's negotiations succeeded in saving some lives, but his story is infinitely more complicated than Sharansky's and presents some of the most difficult questions in this book. Were Kasztner's decisions wise? ~~~ Rudolf (Rezsö) Kasztner was born in 1906 in Kolozsvár, Transylvania, a proud, cosmopolitan city of sixty thousand. The city was part of the kingdom of Hungary and had a significant Jewish community. Kasztner's parents were successful merchants. Kasztner, educated at the elite Jewish gymnasium, was a gifted student with a facility for languages. In addition to his native Magyar (Hungarian), he learned to speak German, French, Latin, and Romanian, the last of which became essential. Before he graduated from high school, his hometown became part of Romania—a less hospitable country for Jews—and was known as Cluj. The young Kasztner also showed other talents, including a knack for maneuvering himself quickly onto center stage. At the age of fifteen, he joined a Zionist youth movement. Within a year, he was the leader of his group. After finishing high school and collecting a law degree (to please his mother), he turned to his real passions: politics, journalism, and Zionism. He took a job with a Jewish newspaper in Cluj and began to write bold political commentary, which alienated some readers but brought him to the attention of Dr. Joseph Fischer, one of the city's wealthiest and most respected Jews. Indeed, Fischer stood at the very apex of Jewish society in Cluj: he was the president of the city's Jewish Community and a member of Parliament—and thus a national spokesman for Romania's seven hundred thousand Jews. It did not take long for Kasztner to become Fischer's assistant, protégé, and eventually son-in-law (when Kasztner married Fischer's daughter, Elizabeth). The two men developed a strong bond. The Kasztner of those years was already demonstrating the strengths of character that would also become his weaknesses. “Not only was Kasztner smarter and better read than others, but he also let everyone know that he was superior in wit and knowledge. … Kasztner often dismissed people as stupid, incompetent, or intellectually cowardly.” A law school friend recalled: “He had no sense of other people's sensitivities, or he didn't care whether he alienated his friends.” A member of his Zionist youth group recalls him as “sharp-witted and shrewd” but unreliable: “he often made promises he couldn't keep.” But he was dedicated to helping Jews in trouble. His fellow citizens were often harassed by Romanian authorities, and Kasztner “was one of the few who could deal with the authorities as an equal,” writes Anna Porter. In local government, Kasztner was remembered as a “fixer,” a man others trusted to solve their problems, but he was too smart to be much loved even by those he had helped. Still, he was sought out. The Jews of [Cluj] needed someone like Kasztner to help them survive the difficult years after Transylvania was ceded to the Romanians. … Kasztner managed to keep in touch with bureaucrats and gentile functionaries of all political stripes. He knew whom to bribe and how much to offer, whom to flatter and how. By the late 1930s, Kasztner was also helping Jewish refugees who had fled Nazi-occupied Europe and ended up in Cluj. He raised money for them, organized food and shelter, and helped them obtain safe passage to Palestine, which was then controlled by the British. Some of this work waslegal—for example, obtaining exit visas from the Romanian government— but much of it was not. The British kept strict control over entry visas to Palestine, so getting Jews aboard ships often required the liberal use of bribes. This was Kasztner's forte. He worked closely with the Jewish Agency in Palestine, which encouraged illegal immigration. Anna Porter provides a vivid portrait of the Kasztner of this period: Kasztner was outspoken, brash, unafraid. He could be seen striding toward government offices and into police headquarters, a pale, muscular, slender man, his dark hair swept back, his well-tailored black suit stark even during the summer heat, his tie loosened over his white shirt, the collar perfectly starched. He was confident, in a hurry, his briefcase casually swinging from one hand, the other ready to wave to all his acquaintances. ~~~ In 1940, Kasztner moved to Budapest, where his skills as a fixer would soon be needed. Kasztner's hometown of Cluj had once again become part of Hungary, and Kasztner was now a Hungarian citizen. By this time Jewish refugees had begun pouring into Budapest from Nazi-occupied Poland and Slovakia, telling of Nazi atrocities. Hungary and Nazi Germany became wartime allies in that year but Hungary retained its autonomy. In comparison to Nazi-occupied Europe or Germany itself, Hungary seemed like a safe haven for Jews. The Budapest Jewish establishment was wealthy, cultured, and among the most assimilated in Europe. Its members had dominated Hungarian industry, finance, and the professions. Some socialized with Hungarian aristocracy and had political influence. Unlike Kasztner, they considered themselves Hungarians first, and Jews second. Few in the establishment would have dreamed of moving to Palestine. Indeed, you couldn't have gotten them out of Budapest with a crowbar—a fact that was soon to contribute to their downfall. Moreover, the Jewish establishment was utterly unprepared for the needy horde of terrified Jewish refugees flooding into Hungary. Where would the refugees go? They didn't even speak Hungarian. Kasztner, however, had grown up in the harsher climate of Romania, where Jews did not dine with the local aristocracy. He knew exactly what to do—and much of it was illegal. Kasztner and about a dozen other “Zionist mavericks” got together and formed a Relief and Rescue Committee, later known by its He-brew name, Va'ada. The Relief and Rescue Committee's core mission became the hiding and transport of Jews. Between 1941 and 1944, the committee fed and clothed refugees, obtained emigration documents (both genuine and forged), smuggled people across borders, and of course, paid bribes. This work was made possible by an outstanding network of un- derground contacts—not only Zionists in other cities, but diplomats, couriers, smugglers, petty criminals, and bribable officials of every stripe— who kept them informed of what was happening to Jews elsewhere. One of the best-connected Relief and Rescue Committee founders, and a key player in this story, was Joel Brand, who in many ways was Kasztner's opposite. Where Kasztner was widely seen as an intellectual snob, Brand was a drinker, a gambler, and a “playboy” who spent most of his time in cafés and nightclubs. This dissolute life had allowed him to develop an extensive network of double agents and Nazi intelligence officials who would prove useful in the days ahead. Although the Jewish establishment disdained the Zionists and their methods, the two groups would soon come to need each other. ~~~ On March 19, 1944, German troops marched into Budapest and imposed a new puppet government. In the Nazi vanguard was Adolf Eichmann, who that day celebrated his thirty-eighth birthday. An SS colonel, Eichmann was under secret orders to implement Hitler's “Final Solution” in Hungary as quickly as possible—that is, to round up seven hundred thousand Jews and transport them to death camps or forced labor camps. Why did the Nazis invade their own ally? For two reasons: they feared that Hungary was about to negotiate a separate peace with the Allies, and they believed that Hungary was being too lenient toward its own Jews. By this time, Germany's war efforts were faltering. The Soviets had repelled the Nazi invasion and were advancing on the eastern front. The Allies had invaded Italy. The realization that a German defeat was a real possibility, and almost within sight, created complicated crosscurrents that were difficult to read accurately at the time. Within a day of the invasion, Nazi officials demanded a meeting with the leaders of Budapest's Jewish establishment. At the meeting, the Nazis addressed the Jewish leaders with respect and promised that as long as the Jews followed orders and didn't panic, no Jew would be harmed. These assurances fell on receptive ears. Rumors about the fate of Polish Jews had circulated widely among Hungarian Jews, but many could not believe that this could happen in a “civilised country like Hungary.”16 So when the Nazis ordered that Jewish Councils be set up throughout Hungary, ostensibly to promote a measure of Jewish self-government, the Jewish leaders complied. Soon, however, the intended role of the Jewish Councils became clear: they were to be instruments for carrying out the Nazis' orders. Through a combination of threats and false promises, the Jewish leaders were co-opted into “contribut[ing] to the smooth running of the Holocaust.” Among other things, the Jewish Councils “published the newsletters announcing Eichmann's orders, … delivered Jewish money and valuables to the Germans” and “compiled the lists of Jews” that would later be used for roundups and deportations. When Jewish leaders protested, Eichmann assured them that these orders were simply wartime necessities and that cooperative Jews would not be in danger. The Nazis were, of course, lying. According to German records, within four months of the invasion, some 437,000 Jews from the Hungarian provinces were shipped to Auschwitz. By the end of the German occupation, more than 500,000 Hungarian Jews had been killed. Much of Kasztner's work, and the critical events of this story, happened during this very short period. ~~~ From the beginning of the invasion, Kasztner believed the Jewish Councils were pursuing the wrong strategy. His knowledge of Nazi procedures elsewhere—the creation of Jewish Councils, which then were enlisted in the creation of ghettos that were a prelude to mass deportations—persuaded him that Hungarian Jews were in serious danger. Moreover, he knew that some Nazi officials could be bribed. In 1942, a Jewish group in Bratislava, Slovakia, had paid the Nazis some twenty thousand dollars to stop deporting Slovakian Jews. Because the deportations had halted around the same time, the Bratislava group was firmly convinced that their bribe had been the cause of the reprieve. That inspired them to concoct a much bigger plan, offering the Nazis $2 million (which they didn't have) to stop deporting Jews from other occupied countries. This scheme sputtered for lack of funds,23 but the Relief and Rescue Committee group was well aware of it. Kasztner thought the best approach was to contact the Nazis directly and try to negotiate protection for the Jews. But he had a problem: Whom did he represent? For whom could he speak? His first challenge was to negotiate with the Budapest Jewish establishment for permission to speak on behalf of Hungary's Jews. Three days after the invasion, he met in an elegant café with Samuel Stern, the patrician president of the Jewish Community and the head of the Budapest Jewish Council. Kasztner laid out his case: that Hungarian Jews were in danger; that Nazis were bribable, and that Zionists—not the Jewish Council—should handle this effort because they were experienced hands at this game. Stern was not persuaded. Confident of his contacts with the Hungarian government, the Jewish Community leader refused to believe that his constituents could possibly meet the same fate as Polish Jews. Consequently, he expressed disinterest in receiving any assistance from the Zionists. Kasztner and his cohorts were on their own. Through Brand's Nazi contacts, however, a meeting was soon arranged with two SS officers, both members of Eichmann's “Sonderkommando” (Special Action Commando). One of these men, Captain Dieter Wisliceny, was the same Nazi who had negotiated with the Bra-tislava group. Kasztner and Brand thought this was a good sign. In preparing for the meeting, Kasztner and Brand focused on two goals. One was to establish the Relief and Rescue Committee as a credible negotiating partner. They couldn't claim to speak for the Jews of Hungary, so they came up with an even grander idea: they would claim to represent all of “World Jewry.” They knew that many Nazis genuinely believed in a vast international conspiracy of Jews who were immensely rich and controlled the Allies and the Soviets. Kasztner and Brand decided to take full advantage of that myth—and for good measure, to claim linkage to the Bratislava group. Their second goal was equally ambitious: to reach a deal that would protect all the Jews in Hungary. They decided to offer the Nazis $2 million —which, like the Bratislava group, they did not have—in exchange for a series of conditions. ~~~ Before we get to the substance of this meeting, let's step back and analyze Kasztner's decision in favor of negotiation. How did he analyze the benefits and risks? We can assume that, like Sharansky, he had a strong interest in physical survival. The best way to save his own skin would be to avoid the Nazis entirely and go into hiding or flee. But Kasztner seems to have ignored that interest. The only goal he seems to have recognized was to save as many Jewish lives as possible. No doubt because of his experience as a “fixer,” he thought he could achieve that through negotiation. He had no moral qualms about negotiating with devils. He was far too cynical for that. In fact, I think he believed that negotiating with the Nazis was justified on both pragmatic and moral grounds, because lives might be saved. Did he experience any conflict between pragmatism and principle? Only to the extent that the personally safe choice—to head for the hills—would have meant not engaging in this negotiation. But there is no evidence he even considered that option. In fact, there is no evidence that he really did a cost-benefit analysis at all, at least one that Spock would recognize. Kasztner was a fixer, not a hider. He had been negotiating with devils all his life. That was his public identity. All his skills called for negotiation, and so did his temperament. His decision to negotiate may well have been based largely on such intuitive judgments. So let's look more closely at his decision to negotiate with the Nazis as an occupying power. Did it make any sense? What would Spock say? We must take care to base the analysis on what was known at the time and not on how things turned out. ~~~ The sweeping deal Kasztner and Brand envisioned, if implemented, would clearly serve the interests of the entire Jewish community in Hungary. So if Spock were to advise the Relief and Rescue Committee negotiators, he would focus on implementation. He would remind Kasztner and Brand of the risks of bluffing. They had no money. They were not authorized to speak for a single Hungarian Jew, much less the Jewish Agency in Palestine or the representatives of the American Jewish community in Switzerland. “What makes you think you can pull this off?” Spock would ask. “How confident are you of raising the money? What might be the consequences if you can't deliver?” Kasztner would probably respond that the chances were reasonably good that money could be raised; Stern would likely help raise funds within Hungary and the balance might be secured from Jewish sources abroad— and paid over time. Playing for time was valuable. In the meantime, Germany might lose the war. Spock would then turn to the Nazi side of the bargain. Why should the Nazis agree to such a deal? Why would it be in their interests? Even if they did make a deal, there was a significant risk they wouldn't honor it. Spock would also want to know whether Wisliceny had authority to make promises on behalf of the Nazis, especially about deportation. Wisliceny might simply be taking the money for himself. Kasztner would probably respond that, in his experience, not all Nazis were committed to exterminating Jews. Some cared little for Nazi ideology and were willing to bend the rules in exchange for cash. The Bratislava episode appeared to be a prime example of this—and was presumably approved at high levels. The Nazi war machine needed money, and the Reich was under increasing international pressure to stop killing Jews. It wasn't entirely out of the question that the Reich would trade Jews for cash. Kasztner would surely admit, however, that the whole plan was tenuous; the Relief and Rescue Committee held a very weak hand. It had no way of enforcing a deal with the Nazis, so there was substantial risk of paying a bribe and getting nothing in return. But—and this was the key question—what were the alternatives? To Kasztner, who understood the Nazis' intentions, there were only three real alternatives to negotiation:32 fight, flee, or hide. None was feasible on an organized, massive scale. Armed resistance was hopeless: Hungarian Jews had hardly any weapons, most of the young men had already been sent to work camps, and the Jewish leadership opposed open resistance as too risky. Flight en masse was impossible. Much of nearby Yugoslavia was occupied by the Nazis and the border was heavily patrolled. Individuals might be able to escape to nearby Romania, but it was hard to imagine spiriting Jews en masse across that border. The final possibility was to go into hiding. But outside of Budapest, there was nowhere to hide large numbers of Jews. Certainly not in open fields, or small towns where everyone knew each other. So what would Spock say? Having weighed all of these factors, I believe he would conclude that it was reasonable for the Relief and Rescue Committee to see whether it could negotiate a deal with the Nazis. The prospects of success weren't great, and Nazi promises were hardly worth banking on, but it was a desperate situation. Why not try? I suspect, however, that Spock would have urged Kasztner to have a backup plan, a “Plan B.” The alternatives to negotiation were terrible, but the best of the lot would involve spreading the alarm and warning Jews to avoid the ghettos and Nazi transports at all costs; better to go underground or flee. The Relief and Rescue Committee's first meeting with the Nazis took place on April 5, 1944. Two Nazis were present: Captain Dieter Wis-liceny and another SS officer. Brand and Kasztner, introducing themselves as agents of World Jewry, immediately put an offer on the table by referring to the negotiations in Bratislava. They offered $2 mil-lion, with an immediate down payment of $200,000, subject to “four stipulations”: (1) no ghettos or concentration camps in Hungary; (2) no mass executions or pogroms; (3) no deportations from Hungary; and (4) permission for all Jews who held valid entry certificates to emigrate to Palestine. Wisliceny's response was a masterful blend of promises and quasi- promises. He appeared to accept at least one of the conditions, explicitly stating, “We can guarantee that there will be no deportations out of Hungary.” His response to the other terms was ambiguous. For $2 million, he said, it might be possible to prevent ghettoization and to allow some Jews to emigrate. But over time, $2 million would not be enough. There would have to be more payments later. Furthermore, to demonstrate goodwill, the Relief and Rescue Committee would have to deliver the $200,000 down payment within a week. “Your people will not be harmed,” he promised, “so long as our negotiations are going on.”35 Brand and Kasztner agreed to raise the money but added another condition: in order to coordinate the fund-raising effort, they and their colleagues would need to move freely around the city. The SS officers agreed and gave the Relief and Rescue Committee officers special “immunity passes” that exempted them from the restrictions that applied to other Jews. (Thus, for the rest of the war, Kasztner would not be required to wear a yellow star. He would also be allowed to use cars and phones and to largely ignore curfews and travel restrictions.) Kasztner also demanded a good-faith gesture from the Nazis. “World Jewry,” he explained, would want proof that its money was actually helping Jews; it would “want to see results.”37 To this end, Kasztner proposed that one hundred Jews be allowed to leave Hungary for Romania, where the Jewish Agency had chartered a ship that would take them to Turkey and then to Palestine. Such a gesture from the Nazis, Kasztner asserted confidently, “would mean that we could ask for much more money from our people in Constantinople and Jerusalem.”38 Wisliceny made no promises but agreed to consider the matter. “Meanwhile,” he suggested, “you can prepare a list of the people you want to send.” Thus, almost as an afterthought, a seed was planted that would later blossom into what became known as the “Kasztner Train.” ~~~ As Kasztner had hoped, Samuel Stern, the leader of the Budapest Jewish establishment, made a complete about-face and agreed to raise the down payment. By now, alarmed by the Nazis' anti-Jewish measures, Stern also authorized Kasztner to negotiate with the SS on behalf of all Hungarian Jews. But over the next few weeks, even as the Relief and Rescue Committee was delivering the down payment in installments, Kasztner began receiving terrible news. Through sources in German counterintelligence he learned that, despite all public claims to the contrary, the Nazis planned to ghettoize all Jews in Hungary and then deport them.Kasztner immediately looked for Wisliceny, who was nowhere to be found. The other SS officials were no help. Kasztner accused them of reneging on Wisliceny's promise, but they just shrugged and feigned ignorance. However, they still wanted to negotiate. For the down payment already delivered, they said, perhaps a small number of Jews could be allowed to leave Hungary. A scant day later, the same officials announced to Kasztner that “as a gesture of good will,” their supe-riors had given permission to allow six hundred Jewish families to emigrate—half from the provinces and half from Budapest. Once again, they suggested that the Relief and Rescue Committee draw up a list. Kasztner was alarmed. What had happened to the original deal? One moment they had been talking about saving the entire Jewish community; now they were down to only six hundred families. Kasztner was determined to find Wisliceny and confront him. But before he could do so, he was distracted by another stunning development. On April 25, Eichmann summoned Brand to his office and made a proposal. (Kasztner was annoyed at having been passed over. Why Brand?) Brand later described the meeting as surreal: Eichmann chain-smoked, paced around the room, and bragged about having rounded up all the Jews in Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Austria. Finally getting to the point, Eichmann said that the Reich needed trucks for its war effort and was willing to trade one million Jews for ten thousand winterized trucks. (This proposal would come to be known as blut gegen waren—“blood for goods.”) Eichmann instructed Brand to go to Istanbul, in neutral Turkey, to present this offer to “World Jewry.” “I want you to go abroad and get in direct touch with your people and with representatives of the Allied powers. Then come back to me with a concrete proposal.”47 Brand left the meeting in shock. He thought the deal was preposterous. How could “World Jewry” produce ten thousand trucks? It would require the full cooperation of the Western Allies, who would never allow the Nazis to receive war materiel in the middle of a war. What was Eichmann up to? In his postwar report of these events, Kasztner recalled asking himself: “What was behind these suddenly generous offers on one side, and the absurd demands on the other side? Were they lunatics or clumsy plotters, who would make such proposals?”48 Ultimately, however, it was decided to play along and attempt to meet Eichmann's terms. ~~~ In early May, Kasztner finally got permission to travel to Cluj, where Wisliceny had been reassigned. He soon discovered what Wisliceny was doing there. Local police had just begun rounding up Jews and moving them into a brickyard—a makeshift ghetto. Wisliceny himself was supervising the effort. When Kasztner confronted him about his earlier promise, Wisliceny admitted that he really had no authority to prevent deportations. “[Eichmann] gave me the dirtiest job, and I am now the one who has to transfer the Jews into Ghettos. … I wear a uniform, I must follow orders.”50 “At least tell me the truth,” Kasztner insisted. Was it true, as he had heard, that the Nazis planned to deport all the Jews in Hungary? Wis-liceny waffled but promised to find out. In the meantime, he said, Kasztner could prepare the list of six hundred families who would emigrate in exchange for the ransom already paid. Let's step back again and ask: What was going on? Was it time to reassess? There is no evidence that Kasztner asked himself this question, but Spock would have strongly recommended it. The original decision to negotiate with the Nazis had been made in March. It was now May and Kasztner had new information. The Nazis had lied to his face about the deportations. His original, glorious deal was dead. He had paid a substantial bribe and so far had nothing to show for it. Eichmann was pushing a bizarre proposal that would probably go nowhere (although it might allow the Jews to buy valuable time). Wisliceny and his cohorts were dangling a carrot— the prospect of emigration for a small group—but they weren't trustworthy. Spock would say: Slow down. Think. What should be your strategy? And what should you tell your family and the Jewish leaders in Cluj? Kasztner would probably respond that he was thinking, but that he couldn't exactly slow down. As he would write later, events were happening so fast that “even thoughts were too slow.”53 In that respect he was right: the ghettoization process in Cluj went so quickly that it was completed in a week.What did Kasztner do while he was in Cluj? He met with local Jewish leaders, including his father-in-law, but it is not clear what he told them. Years later, the exact content of these discussions would be-come highly controversial. How much did Kasztner know about the Nazis' plans for Hungary, and how clearly did he warn his fellow Jews about the disaster that was coming? Although many Hungarian Jews had heard reports about Nazi atrocities elsewhere, and therefore had reason to understand that they, too, were in danger, others didn't know—or refused to believe—just how bad things were. Kasztner was much better informed than most. He knew from reliable sources that the Nazis planned to deport all Hungarian Jews. He also knew that Auschwitz was an extermination camp, not simply a forced labor camp as the Nazis claimed, and that deportation to Auschwitz was a probable prelude to extermination. Kasztner later claimed that he had warned the Jewish leadership of Cluj, and his family and friends, of precisely this danger. Others said he had not. What is undisputed is that no dire warning ever reached the rest of the community and that no Jews were advised, by Kasztner or the Cluj leadership, to flee Hungary or go into hiding. Kasztner did, however, tell the Jewish leaders about his negotiations with the Nazis. He said he was working on a deal that might allow some Jews, including a number from Cluj, to emigrate. One can easily imagine Kasztner, the fixer, wanting to hold out hope to those closest to him. One can also imagine his tendency to believe that if anyone could pull off a miracle, he could. Kasztner decided not to abandon the negotiation track, despite Wisliceny's broken promise. Indeed, I think he was burning to go up the chain of command. To hell with Wisliceny … How could he get to Eichmann? ~~~ With the Nazis' help, Brand left for Istanbul on May 17 to carry Eichmann's proposal to a representative of the Jewish Agency. On Eichmann's orders, Brand was forced to leave his wife, Hansi, behind as a hostage. No member of the Relief and Rescue Committee had much confidence that the deal would succeed, but they hoped that by keeping the prospect of negotiations alive, they could stall for time and perhaps stop the deportations. That hope would prove to be misplaced. Nothing ever came of the Brand mission, and Brand himself was never able to return to Hungary. In the meantime, mass deportations of Jews to Auschwitz began on May 15 and continued at horrifying speed. But for about a month, the Jewish Agency pretended to take the “Jews for trucks” deal seriously, and these sham negotiations gave Kasztner the opportunity he needed to take Brand's place in Budapest. First he began an affair with Brand's wife, Hansi. It was Hansi who served as the bridge to Eichmann. Through her own contacts, she set up Kasztner's first meeting with Eichmann and attended it with him. Thus Kasztner was finally able to establish himself with Eichmann as the chief agent of World Jewry in Hungary. The relationship between the two men would last for the remainder of the war and test all of Kasztner's skills. At their first meeting, Eichmann—who Kasztner knew “ruled over life and death”57—greeted Kasztner and Hansi with characteristic bullying, boasting that he had served as commissar of Jewish affairs in Austria and Czechoslovakia. Abruptly, however, Eichmann grew amiable and spoke of his support of Zionism, including the Jews' right to have their own state. Eventually, they got down to business. Kasztner tried to persuade Eichmann to stop the deportations while Brand carried on the negotiations in Istanbul. He was unsuccessful. Kasztner then reminded Eichmann of the promises his subordinates had made: that six hundred Jewish families would be allowed to leave Hungary. Kasztner cannily linked this prior agreement with the Brand mission, and this connection, at least, he succeeded in making stick. World Jewry needed a showing of good faith, Kasztner argued. If Eichmann couldn't follow through on a simple promise to release six hundred families, there would be no hope of progress on the “Jews for trucks” deal. Eichmann agreed to nothing at that first meeting, but he asked Kasztner to prepare a list of six hundred Jewish families who might be sent by train out of Hungary. On May 22, Eichmann explicitly agreed that six hundred families might be spared. In the following weeks, Kasztner and Eichmann played a game of “double-bluff,”60 both sides playing for time, each aware that the other was unlikely to meet his commitments. Kasztner falsely claimed that Brand was making progress with the Allies in Istanbul and argued that if the deportations continued, Eichmann would have no Jews left to trade. Eichmann pretended to negotiate the “blood for goods” deal while herding ten to fifteen thousand Jews a day into boxcars for transport to Poland. Eichmann proved to be a thoroughly unreliable negotiating partner, constantly making promises and breaking them. In Hansi Brand's words, “What we had established on one day … the next day was found to be nothing at all.”61 A showdown came in early June when Eichmann reneged on yet another promise—to bring several hundred provincial Jews to Budapest for inclusion on the emigration train. Kasztner decided to push back. Instead of confronting Eichmann directly, Kasztner taunted him by making provocative statements to two of his officers. To one, Kasztner complained that Eichmann had broken his word and that Kasztner was going to inform Istanbul that all further discussions should be ended. To another, he declared that Eichmann's behavior was unworthy of an SS officer. As expected, these comments got back to Eichmann, who summoned Kasztner to his office and threw a “fit of rage.” Kasztner reports that he simply didn't respond. Eventually Eichmann calmed down and asked Kasztner, “What do you really want?” “I must insist on our agreements being kept. Will you bring the people suggested by us from the provinces to Budapest?” Eichmann retorted, “Once I have said no, it's no!” “Then there's no point in continuing to negotiate,” Kasztner said. He stood up and started to leave the room. Eichmann responded with a threat: “You are a bundle of nerves, Kasztner. I will send you to Theresienstadt to recover. Or do you prefer Auschwitz?” Kasztner shot back: “It would be pointless. Nobody else would take my place.” Hours of haggling followed, during which a significant shift occurred. Eichmann stopped talking about Jews from the “provinces” generally, and started talking about Jews from Cluj, Kasztner's hometown. Was this a new aspect of the devil's bargain? The record is not clear on whether Eichmann or Kasztner initiated this change in emphasis, but eventually Eichmann relented and said: “All right. The [Cluj] people are coming to Budapest.” By the end of the meeting, Kasztner had negotiated the number of Cluj Jews up to about 200, but eventually the number rose to 388. (Later, Jews from other provinces would be added.) In retrospect, commentators say that Kasztner was uniquely suited to the task of dealing with Eichmann. Although Kasztner often felt nothing but despair, his smooth façade never cracked in Eichmann's presence. He got invaluable help from Hansi. Early on, Kasztner had told Hansi that he was terrified of Eichmann, who chain-smoked in Kasztner's presence and never offered Kasztner a cigarette. Hansi suggested that Kasztner bring his own cigarettes, and advised him to chain-smoke as well. Kasztner took her advice and his bravado won Eichmann's grudging admiration and respect. As Eichmann recalled in his memoir: This Dr. Kasztner was a young man about my age, an ice-cold lawyer and a fanatical Zionist. … Except perhaps for the first few sessions, Kasztner never came to me fearful of the Gestapo strongman. We negotiated entirely as equals. … When he was with me, Kasztner smoked cigarets, as though he were in a coffeehouse. While we talked he would smoke one aromatic cigaret after another, taking them from a silver case and lighting them with a little silver lighter. With his great polish and reserve he would have made an ideal Gestapo officer himself. ~~~ For Kasztner, dealing with Eichmann's tirades and treachery was easy compared to the task of drawing up “the list.” Here was another aspect of the devil's bargain, which Kasztner may not have anticipated. Which Jews should be chosen for emigration, and how should they be selected? It was an agonizing and chaotic process. Kasztner later called it a “merciless chore.”68 Not wanting to take on the burden alone, he asked a small group of members from the Relief and Rescue Committee to direct the effort, with input from other Jewish leaders. In an effort to be fair, the committee established categories for selection, such as “deserving figures in Jewish public life” and “widows and orphans of slave labourers.”69 Not surprisingly, this process sparked intense conflict; committee members were barraged with desperate appeals and charges of favoritism. Meanwhile, Kasztner successfully haggled with Eichmann to expand the list to 1,300 people in exchange for a ransom of a thousand dollars per head. To raise the money, the committee created a new category: Jews who could pay far more than their pro rata share. In this way, 150 wealthy Jews bought their way onto the list and subsidized the others, who had no money. The list was in constant flux, and the Relief and Rescue Committee did not have full control over it. Some people declined a spot on the train, fearing that the deal was a Nazi trap. Others on the list were deported before they could take advantage of the opportunity. Still other names were added by Nazi officials in exchange for individual bribes. And then there was SS colonel Kurt Becher, an opportunist who was soon to play a crucial role in Kasztner's life. Becher's rank was equal to Eichmann's—both reported to Reichsführer SS Heinrich Himmler and had similar clout. But they had opposite temperaments. Whereas Eichmann was an ideologue who wanted to deport every last Jew, Becher was a pragmatist who cared only about his own career, self-enrichment, and survival after the war. Recognizing the train as a gold mine for himself, Becher maneuvered his way into the negotiation and reserved fifty places on the train, which he sold separately to Jews who bribed him directly. There is no evidence that Kasztner objected to this development. To the contrary, Kasztner recognized in Becher someone he could do business with. In the coming months, Kasztner would find Becher a more cooperative partner than Eichmann and would work increasingly closely with him. On June 30, some 1,684 Jews finally left Budapest on the “Kasztner Train.” But the passengers' ordeal continued for months more. Again Eichmann broke his word. The train's destination was not Spain or Switzerland, as promised, but a concentration camp in Bergen-Belsen, Germany, where the émigrés were held hostage as “privileged” inmates. Kasztner was in despair. He had intended the train to be the first step in a much larger rescue. But while he had been matching wits with the wily Eichmann, the latter had succeeded in shipping off to Ausch-witz nearly all of the Jews outside of Budapest. Only about 250,000 Jews remained in Hungary, nearly all in Budapest. And now Kasztner's train was trapped in Bergen-Belsen. But Kasztner did not give up. Eventually, by December 1944, nearly everyone on the train made it to safety in Switzerland. Shortly thereafter, Kasztner joined his wife, Elizabeth, in Switzerland. But their reunion was temporary. Rather than remain in safety, Kasztner returned to Nazi-occupied Europe to try to save more Jews, a mission he pursued until the war's last days. In April 1945, as the Nazis were in their final retreat, Kasztner conducted a final rescue effort with Becher. Himmler had offered to make Becher responsible for final oversight of various concentration camps. And here Kasztner made what would later prove to be another devil's bargain. He persuaded Becher to accept this duty so that together they could save Jewish lives before the now-inevitable German defeat. In exchange, Kasztner promised to help save Becher's skin by telling the Allies about his good deeds. Becher agreed. So the SS officer Becher and the Jew Kasztner (traveling with German papers) went from camp to camp, trying to prevent further wholesale deaths of inmates by asking that the camps be handed peacefully over to the Allies. In the end, what did Kasztner achieve? This question has never been definitively answered. Certainly, his negotiation efforts were indispensable in saving the nearly seventeen hundred Jews who reached Switzerland via the Kasztner train. But Kasztner also had some luck. The release of the Jews from Bergen-Belsen was very much tied to Himmler's desire, at the end of the war, to negotiate a separate peace with the Western Allies. Kasztner also claimed credit for saving tens of thousands more Jews, but these claims are harder to assess. He was very proud of a deal he negotiated with Eichmann in which, for a money bribe, Eichmann agreed to send some seventeen thousand Jews to a work camp instead of to Auschwitz. But as it turned out, Eichmann was independently under orders to send Jewish laborers to that work camp, so some commentators believe that Eichmann outsmarted Kasztner by making him pay for something that would have happened anyway. As to Kasztner's negotiations with the Nazis on behalf of other Jews—including those in Budapest74 and concentration camps—it is hard to determine with any precision what difference his intervention made. Historians differ in how much credit they give Kasztner for saving these additional lives, but most acknowledge that Kasztner played a role, and possibly a significant one.

Three Tribunals Judge Kasztner

When the war ended, Kasztner had no doubts about his own conduct. In his own mind, he was a hero. He continued to work for the Jewish cause, remaining in Europe for more than two years, participating in the Nuremberg trials of German war criminals, working to recover Jewish property stolen by the Germans, and trying to track down Eichmann so he could be brought to justice. Kasztner also made good on his promise to SS officer Becher, who was arrested by the Allies shortly after the war's end. Kasztner submitted an affidavit that credited Becher with saving many Jews, and as a result Becher was soon released. Kasztner also sought broader recognition for his accomplishments in negotiating with the Nazis. But instead, he found himself the object of ugly innuendos and even open attacks. Critics accused him of collaborating with the Nazis and enriching himself in the process. His accusers were a “mixed bunch … personal or ideological enemies, survivors who had lost relatives or had themselves suffered in the camps, and even some members of [the Kasztner train].”75 These attacks would last his entire life, and questions about his actions would prove so persistent that even today there is no consensus. During his lifetime, three different tribunals would consider charges against him and each would come to a different conclusion. The first inquiry arose soon after the war at Kasztner's insistence. Furious about the nasty rumors swirling around him,76 he demanded in 1946 that the World Zionist Congress in Basel, Switzerland, conduct hearings in a “court of honour.” A fact-finding committee was appointed and Kasztner prepared a 200-page report of his wartime activities. But after two meetings, the committee was unable to reach a decision. It was hardly an exoneration. In 1947, just before Israel attained statehood, Kasztner moved to Israel with his wife and infant daughter, where the second inquiry was destined to occur. At first, things went reasonably well for him in the new state. Although anonymous rumors about his past Nazi “collaboration” continued occasionally to haunt him, he successfully established a new public life. He was welcomed by the governing Mapai (later Labor) Party and appointed to a succession of government posts. But Israeli politics were deeply affected by the Holocaust and Kasztner was an open target. Within a few years he became the center of a sensational trial. It started with Mikhail Grunwald, a bitter, right-wing crank who wrote an obscure mimeographed newsletter. In 1952, Grunwald published a tirade about Kasztner: Dr. Rudolph Kasztner must be liquidated! For three years I have been waiting for the moment to unmask this careerist who grew fat on Hitler's lootings and murders. Because of his criminal machinations and collaborations with the Nazis I consider him implicated in the murder of our beloved brothers. The whole thing would probably have blown over if the Mapai party had not been feeling vulnerable. Grunwald's salvo was partly an attack on the governing party, and the attorney general decided to file charges of criminal libel against Grunwald. That meant he needed Kasztner as the government's star witness. He gave Kasztner a choice: either act to clear his name or resign his government post. Kasztner was ambivalent about the prospect of a trial in which he would be the central focus. He saw the wisdom of ignoring Grunwald's insults, but he didn't want to resign his position and he wanted to fight back. Moreover, Kasztner, who always loved the limelight, assumed that the trial would “shine a light on his actions” and win him the recognition he felt he deserved. So finally he agreed to fight Grunwald, and the government filed criminal libel charges against Grunwald. The trial proved to be an unmitigated disaster for Kasztner. Grunwald's newsletter rant had been a confused jumble of charges, but the trial judge organized them into four potential instances of libel: that Kasztner had (1) collaborated with the Nazis; (2) worked to save his own relatives and a few elite Jews while leaving the masses to die; (3) stolen money intended for rescue operations; and (4) helped Becher evade justice after the war. The trial lasted for months and there were scores of witnesses. A good deal of the testimony focused on May 3, 1944—the day Kasztner had spent talking with the Jewish leadership in his hometown of Cluj. At issue was what Kasztner had said in those discussions. Did he simply tell the Jews about the train, or did he also warn them of the danger of deportation? Although Grunwald was technically the defendant in the case, he had a brilliant right-wing lawyer who successfully turned the trial into an indictment of Kasztner—and by extension, of the entire Israeli political establishment for its failure to do more during World War II to save European Jewry. In 1955, Judge Benjamin Halevi delivered a 240-page judgment that has been called “one of the most heartless in the history of Israel, perhaps the most heartless ever.”84 The judge not only cleared Grunwald of all but one of the libel charges,85 but he took the opportunity to condemn Kasztner for having actively colluded in the Holocaust. In the judge's view, Kasztner had known full well about the Nazis' extermination plans but had deliberately withheld this knowledge from the Jewish masses. Indeed, the judge found that Kasztner had made a deal with the Nazis, a quid pro quo: in order to save a small number of privileged Jews—the Kasztner train— Kasztner had agreed not to warn the larger Jewish community of the true danger they were in. The judge framed this deal as a contract in which Kasztner and the Nazis had exchanged promises,87 with Kasztner agreeing not to warn “so that the deportations could proceed without encountering panic or resistance.” In essence, the judge held Kasztner responsible for the fact that some half million Hungarian Jews had gone passively to their deaths, never knowing they were bound for Auschwitz. The judge ended by drawing on two literary metaphors—he compared the Nazis' release of Kasztner's train to the idea of Greeks bearing gifts (the Trojan Horse) and Kasztner's deal with Eichmann to the legend of Faust, stating that Kasztner had “sold his soul to Satan.”88 As I see it, the judge's opinion was not only heartless, but gratuitous. The judge could have spared Grunwald from a criminal conviction, on the grounds that the essential facts could not be established “beyond areasonable doubt.” He did not have to cruelly demonize Kasztner. Much of the judge's opinion is overblown, rhetorical nonsense. The Nazis, not Kasztner, were responsible for rounding up and slaughtering Hungary's Jews. Nothing Kasztner could have done would have saved most of those who perished. Moreover, I find it stunning that the judge blamed Kasztner alone and said nothing to condemn the behavior of the leaders of the Jewish council (“Judenrat”) in Cluj. There was a great deal of testimony at the trial suggesting that these leaders urged people to cooperate with the SS and to board the Nazi trains. They were not encouraging people to flee. Moreover, some of these leaders, including Kasztner's father-in-law, probably suspected that these trains might be headed for an extermination camp. So what explains the vicious nature of this opinion? In part, the opinion reflects the broader attitudes in Israel in the 1950s. The Holocaust had traumatized the Jewish world. The slaughter of six million Jews raised profoundly troubling questions. How did the Holocaust happen? Why had so little been done to prevent it? Why had so many Jews died without putting up a fight? Israel, a fledgling state surrounded by hostile Arab armies, was creating a new identity as a nation of warriors who would fight for their survival. Kasztner, by contrast, could be portrayed as the old-style Jew of Europe, who would haggle and make concessions rather than take a stand. As one scholar writes: [T]he Jews who had settled in Palestine before the war and watched the Holocaust from a safe distance felt impatient with the Jews of Europe who had allowed the Nazis to drive them “like lambs to the slaughter” while the survivors from Europe, in their turn, struggled to get over the loss of their loved ones and their own sufferings. In addition, there was guilt—on one side from failing to give help when it was needed, on the other side for surviving when so many died. Regrettably, Kasztner also played a role in his own destruction. Early in the trial, he was his usual self-confident self, swaggering and strutting, enjoying being the center of attention. But under cross-examination he was asked whether he had testified in Becher's favor after the war. He denied it. When his affidavit on Becher's behalf was introduced into evidence, he was caught in the trap. That lie, and a few others, destroyed Kasztner's credibility in the judge's eyes on issues far more central to the case. As a result, many historians believe, the judge lost all sympathy for Kasztner's predicament. The impact of the ruling on Kasztner and his family was devastating. “Their block of flats was daubed with graffiti saying 'Kasztner is a murderer' and worse.”94 There were death threats. There was also political fallout. The Mapai party was tarnished, its coalition government lost its majority, and new elections were called. Kasztner was advised to leave the country until things calmed down, but he issued a defiant statement: “History and all those who know what really happened during those woeful times will bear witness for me. … I will do everything in my power to clear my name and regain my honour.”95 The third tribunal to judge him was the Israeli Supreme Court, which reviewed the case on appeal. In 1958, the Supreme Court reversed—with a four-to-one majority—the trial court's judgment and resoundingly cleared Kasztner of collaboration with the Nazis and complicity in mass murder. The majority opinion, written by Justice Shimon Agranat, criticized the trial judge for evaluating Kasztner's actions with the benefit of hindsight. The court held that Kasztner: (1) did not know for certain what the fate of the Jews not selected for the rescue train would be; and (2) had reason to hope that many more might be saved through negotiations. Agranat's opinion was also rich with commentary. He affirmed that Kasztner's sole intention had been to save the Jews of Hungary. Although the train was only meant for a small group, this “was just part of his goal and never became for him an exclusive objective.” (The judge noted in passing that Kasztner also provided money and resources to help others not on the train escape Hungary.) Moreover, the judge wrote, Kasztner did not negotiate with Eichmann as an equal. To the contrary, Eichmann held life- and-death power over Kasztner, who behaved reasonably as a Jewish leader under the circumstances. Agranat described Kasztner as a leader with no real power who was forced to make on-the-spot decisions under conditions of extreme pressure and great uncertainty. Against such odds, Agranat wrote, “God forbid us to regard Kasztner as guilty.”This ruling should have been a vindication for Kasztner, and in some ways it was. But he did not live long enough to know that his honor had been restored. While the appeal was pending, on the evening of March 3, 1957, a member of a radical Jewish underground movement approached him outside his home and shot him at close range. Although he survived for eight days, he died in the hospital. Eichmann was tried, convicted, and hanged in Israel in 1962. Becher was never convicted of any war crimes. He prospered in postwar Bremen, Germany, and died a rich old man in 1995—nearly forty years after Kasztner's assassination.

Assessment

What are my own thoughts about this case? Was Kasztner wise to negotiate with the Nazis? I approach this task with reticence. Attempting to assess decisions made in such dark times is treacherous. Primo Levi, himself a Holocaust survivor and a renowned Italian author, eloquently warned that those who haven't lived in such times have difficulty grasping what life was like in what he called this “Grey Zone.”97 I am not critical of Kasztner's initial decision to negotiate with the Nazis. Wisliceny's first response to the Relief and Rescue Committee proposal was promising. But it was hardly reliable. Like Spock, I believe it would have been wiser for Kasztner and his colleagues to begin to develop a Plan B as well—to make every effort to warn the Jews in the provinces to go into hiding or flee. Such a mixed strategy would have been optimal. What of Kasztner's decisions in Cluj on May 3, when he obtained new information? He learned that Wisliceny's earlier promises were worthless and that Eichmann was in charge. He also learned that the Nazis were beginning to round up provincial Jews and that in all probability this was a prelude to mass deportations to Auschwitz. This information demanded two decisions. One was whether to continue negotiating with the Nazis, despite their lies. Kasztner decided to continue, and I don't quarrel with that. I agree that the negotiation track was still worth pursuing. The second decision was whether to spread the alarm among the Jews of Cluj. We will never know for certain what Kasztner said or did. At the trial he testified that he issued a warning. If he was telling the truth, I have no real complaint, since he would have done what wisdom required. But his testimony was contradicted by several Cluj witnesses at the trial who testified that they were unaware of the dangers of ghettoization and deportation. The trial court found these witnesses more credible than Kasztner, and the Israeli Supreme Court did not reverse the trial court's findings on this factual point. On balance, I am skeptical about Kasztner's testimony that he issued warnings during his visit to Cluj. My best guess is that he and his colleagues didn't pursue a mixed strategy, either on May 3 or in the weeks that followed. But even if he had warned, would it have made any difference? Would it have saved more lives? Some commentators suggest the answer is no: that what Kasztner knew about the danger facing Hungary's Jews, nearly everybody knew. Additional warnings would have made no difference in people's behavior. I don't buy the first part of this argument. Kasztner knew more—much more—about the danger than most Jews in Hungary. He knew with certainty that Auschwitz was an extermination camp, not simply a labor camp, and that there was a substantial possibility that many Hungarian Jews would be deported there—to be murdered, not to work. Other Hungarian Jews, especially in the provinces, did not know these things with certainty. They may have heard that many Polish Jews had been killed by the Nazis, but they knew far less than Kasztner about Nazi procedures with regard to trains and deportation. Would strong warnings have saved additional lives? I believe that if Kasztner and his colleagues had acted early enough—in May 1944, just as the ghettoization process was beginning in the provinces—Plan B might have saved additional lives. How many? We will never know, and certainly Kasztner could not have known at the time. And that is my point. When one is negotiating under conditions of such terrible uncertainty, it is wiser to bet on two horses, if possible, than one. Why didn't they pursue a mixed strategy? I am sure many factors were at work. As Kasztner wrote later, events happened too fast. There wasn't an efficient mechanism to “spread the alarm” in any systematic way through the provinces. He was probably being carefully watched by the Nazis. Anything he said, especially in Cluj, to disrupt the deportation could be reported back to Nazi headquarters in Budapest. As I see it, on May 3 Kasztner was in a very complicated and somewhat compromised position. On the one hand, he wanted to encourage some number of people from Cluj to accept the invitation to be on his rescue train. To do so, he had every incentive to make sure they understood the danger of not joining his train. On the other hand, he obviously realized that only a small number could be accommodated, at least on this initial train. He may have (wrongly, in my view) emphasized his hope that there would be many more trains and that maybe the “big deal” would be accomplished. I suspect there was another factor: Kasztner's love of danger and intrigue and being at the center of the action. He was like a riverboat gambler who was willing to take chances, and who probably thought of himself as rationally calculating the opportunities and risks of various “bets.” Indeed, he often described his activities in terms of gambling—roulette, poker, etc. In assessing the costs and benefits of alternative strategies, how realistic was Kasztner? Kasztner didn't fall into any of the negative traps I discussed in chapter 3. He was always prepared to negotiate with the Nazis, and he had no illusions about the regime being evil. And he was far too cynical to fall into the “positive” traps that push people into negotiating when they shouldn't. But in analyzing the costs and benefits of his alternatives, his apparent failure to pursue a mixed strategy may have been the result of three other common cognitive errors that psychologists suggest can distort decision- making. 1. Kasztner's primary focus was on the train and on the lives that would be lost if the train project didn't work. Because of the phenomenon known as “loss aversion,” Kasztner may have given less weight in his decision-making to the number of lives that might have been saved had there been a mixed strategy that encouraged flight, hiding, etc.. The people listed for Kasztner's train were individual human beings who could be identified. Those who might have been saved with a better warning could not be identified in advance but were instead nameless “statistical lives.” In decision-making, saving a few identified people counts for much more than saving more statistical lives. There is research suggesting that more money will be spent more readily to save an identified worker trapped in a mine than a similar amount on mine safety measures that might save many more (unidentified) miners in the future. 3. Kasztner may have also fallen into the trap of overconfidence—he may have exaggerated the chances of his own success in pulling off the “blood for goods” negotiation. How did Kasztner himself evaluate the prospects that he and Brand could pull off Eichmann's proposal of exchanging trucks and war materiel for hundreds of thousands of Jewish lives? Certainly, he should have recognized all along that the deal was nearly inconceivable. It would require the full cooperation of the Western Allies. Spock would have ridiculed the notion that somehow World Jewry might persuade the Western Allies—in the middle of a war in which Roosevelt and Churchill had called for “unconditional” German surrender—to allow the Nazis to receive war materiel. It seems highly unlikely that Hitler had any intention of allowing a large number of Jews to escape. A better rationale for Kasztner's negotiation was that it might buy time and slow down the deportations. Abstractly, this is plausible. Why not try? Moreover, I applaud him for shrewdly linking the “small plan” (the train) to the “big plan” (blood for goods), and for his skill in persuading Eichmann to expand the number of Jews allowed on the train. But as time went on, this second rationale became less and less persuasive. Eichmann flatly refused to stop or slow down the deportations. Boxcars were leaving the provinces daily. In other words, Kasztner's plan wasn't working. Yet he refused to give up: he continued to go to Eichmann's office, smoke cigarettes, tell lies about Brand's “progress” in Istanbul, and argue that Eichmann should stop the deportations. He never lost his focus or shifted his attention to another strategy. In a sense, his persistence washeroic. In another sense, it was perhaps willful blindness. Did he start to believe his own arguments that World Jewry could pull off the deal?107 Did he fool himself into thinking that if he just talked long enough, he could persuade Eichmann to stop the deportations? I suspect that he got so caught up in the intensity of the negotiation that he exaggerated its potential, even to himself. He was negotiating with Adolf Eichmann, after all. The scope of the deal was huge. Foreign governments were involved. When the dream ended, Kasztner was devastated. Porter writes: “When it seemed clear in Budapest that Joel [Brand's] mission had been a failure, only Hansi managed to remain calm. Rezso wept like a child. She cradled his head in her arms and kept repeating that they could not give up.”108 Kasztner wrote a revealing, nearly contemporaneous letter to a friend on July 12, 1944. He acknowledged that “the dream of a big plan is finished, the hundreds of thousands went to Auschwitz in such a way that they were not conscious until the last moment what it was all about and what was happening. We who did know tried to act against it … without our being able to do anything of importance to prevent it.” He added that “we did not forget the flight to Romania, to Slovakia and attempts at hiding people.” But “the speed of the collapse was so wild that help and actions of succor and rescue could not keep up with it; even thoughts were too slow.”109 This last phrase is especially poignant, for it suggests that in retrospect Kasztner may have felt that he had not thought things through carefully enough—that his “thoughts were too slow.” And whose “dream of a big plan” could he have been referring to, if not his own? Did Kasztner sell his soul to the Devil? Absolutely not. But he may have been outsmarted. One scholar argues that Eichmann pursued a brilliant strategy that distracted and beguiled not only the Jewish Councils, but Kasztner and the Relief and Rescue Committee as well. By dangling bait such as the rescue train, the Nazis raised false hopes and kept the Jewish leaders in a constant state of turmoil. Once there was a train, there was a “list” that had to be drawn up—which created bitter conflicts that consumed and divided the Jewish community. Perhaps Kasztner, too, was drawn in. He thought he was Eichmann's equal, and this may have blinded him to the fact that he was being toyed with and bought off for a modest price. I am not persuaded that the Nazis were quite as diabolically clever as all that, but I find the argument intriguing. In sum, from a cost-benefit standpoint, I think Kasztner's decision to bargain with Eichmann was wise but his apparent failure to pursue a mixed strategy was not. What about the charges that Kasztner's actions were immoral? The trial judge accused Kasztner of making a devil's bargain—that in exchange for the Nazis' sparing the lives of those on the train, Kasztner had promised not to urge resistance or flight. It's entirely plausible that Kasztner would make such a promise to Eichmann. My view is, so what if he did? Kasztner would promise Eichmann anything if he thought it would help save Jews. The critical question isn't whether he made such a promise, but whether he honored it. As noted, the historical record is far from clear. But let's assume the worst. Suppose Kasztner made a vow of silence and kept it—that is, he chose not to warn in order to maximize the chance that the train would succeed. Would that be immoral? In my view, no. Such a choice would be morally culpable only if Kasztner knew or should have known that he would save more lives by making the opposite choice. At the time, there was no way for Kasztner to know which strategy would save more lives: negotiating with Eichmann or urging escape. It is simply preposterous to claim that Kasztner was morally responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths because, in hindsight, he may have failed to make the very best decision under conditions of such extreme uncertainty. The second moral issue also relates to the train: Was the selection process fair? Whatever its flaws, these cannot be laid at Kasztner's door. Many people played a role in the process, and a reasonably diverse group of Jews ended up being chosen. The selection process wasn't perfect—it wasn't a lottery—but under the circumstances, it could not have been perfect. Certain groups were overrepresented, mainly wealthy Jews, prominent Jewish leaders, and Jews from Cluj, including members of Kasztner's family. But was it so terrible for Kasztner's relatives to be included? Perhaps a saint would refuse to do so, but if I had been inKasztner's place I would have made sure my family members were on the train. What could be more human than favoring your own family?113 This dilemma is similar to “Sophie's choice” in the William Styron novel of that name. In the novel, a Nazi tells Sophie that he will permit her to save only one of her two children—she has to choose which child or the Nazi will kill both children and Sophie as well. Eichmann and the Nazis, not Kasztner, deserve moral condemnation for forcing such a choice on Kasztner and his colleagues. Kasztner and his colleagues deserve sympathy. A third moral issue relates to lying, and I find it the easiest. Having decided to negotiate with a devil, is it morally permissible to lie in order to save lives? One of Kasztner's strengths was his ability to lie, bluff, evade, and mislead. In less extreme contexts, one might persuasively argue that it is wrong to lie, even if the lie has beneficial results, be-cause if everybody lies the social fabric falls apart; people stop relying on each other to keep promises. But what moral or social fabric existed in the Nazi regime? None. Even those philosophers with a very strict view, who broadly condemn all sorts of lies, acknowledge certain exceptions to interactions between oppressor and oppressed, especially if necessary to save lives. Several lessons can be drawn from this inquiry. If you bargain with the Devil, develop alternatives. You will need them if the deal doesn't work out. If you bargain with the Devil, you'd better win big. Otherwise you may be harshly judged by history—and by your own people. You may even be demonized. If you lie to the Devil, don't get seduced by your own lies. I am pleased that more sympathetic accounts of Kasztner's rescue efforts are now emerging, after years in which he was vilified and then largely forgotten. I admire his courage. But I must confess to some ambivalence about his style of negotiation. I don't fault Kasztner for lying to Eichmann. But I find troubling that at his trial he lied under oath about helping Becher. I wonder whether Kasztner was someone who lied, apparently without moral qualms, whenever he thought it was expedient. Kasztner's style of negotiation is definitely not the approach that I teach and practice. My hunch is that Kasztner would claim that lying in negotiation—like bluffing in poker—is an appropriate part of the game. You must simply be clever enough not to get caught. I disagree. I can typically achieve good results—as good as someone like Kasztner—without lying. Getting caught can ruin your reputation and have long-term consequences that outweigh any benefits. Besides, it's wrong. This is what I teach my students. But this case strains the limits of any notion of principled nego-tiation. If you were dealing with a devil like Eichmann, who would you want to negotiate on your behalf—a negotiator like me who hates to lie, or someone like Kasztner, who lies persuasively because he's had lots of practice?118 The answer is pretty obvious and it troubles me.
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