Michael Neiberg's book is a fascinating history of the Potsdam Conference, which goes far beyond simply recounting what the statesmen at Potsdam said to one another during the conference meetings. Rather, it uses the meeting to explore larger themes.
For instance, argues the author, Potsdam was not the start of a new era of history, but the end of another. In the minds of the men who met in Potsdam in July 1945 "to put the pieces of the world back together," the war that ended in 1945 had begun in 1914, not in 1939. British Foreign Secretary Sir Anthony Eden spoke not of two separate world wars, but one Thirty Years’ War. "The delegates at Potsdam lived with ghosts that haunted the Cecilienhof Palace in the picturesque neighborhood where the meeting took place," writes Neiberg. The palace, built during World War I as a retreat for the German crown prince and his wife, served as a living reminder of the failures of statesmen at the end of that war: the Germans, so convinced of their imminent victory, built the palace while simultaneously devoting enormous resources to fighting a world war.
Yet, the "ghosts" of the Cecilienhof Palace "paled in their power to haunt compared with the ghosts of the Palace of Versailles," continues Neiberg. Everyone at Potsdam saw the Versailles Treaty as a horrible warning from history of the failures of making peace. They all believed that the mistakes of 1919 had directly led to the outbreak of war twenty years later. While the American president, Harry Truman, greatly admired one of the architects of that treaty, Woodrow Wilson – he had even taken his oath of office under a portrait of Wilson – he, nevertheless, saw the treaty as Wilson’s greatest failure. He opened the Potsdam Conference by reminding his fellow statesmen of the “many flaws” that the treaty had produced and warned the delegates to learn from that experience or risk repeating it. No one at Potsdam disagreed with Truman on that score.
The task in front of the three allied leaders and their staffs was nothing less than giving Europe peace and stability, something it had not known since the catastrophic 1914. According to Neiberg, all three men, as well as their advisers, had had their worldviews formed during WWI. For Stalin, the Russian Revolution and the bloody Russian Civil War further proved that the transition from war to peace could present as many challenges as warfare itself. If the Big Three of Potsdam failed as their predecessors in Versailles had, then Europe would know not a future of peace but another age of strife, death, and more war.
The three men had different postwar visions, based on the strategic interests and historical experiences of their nations in the first half of the twentieth century, which had seen revolutionary changes. World War I had eliminated the most powerful monarchies of Europe and "left in their wake a struggle between democracy, fascism, and communism to control the political and economic future of the continent." World War II destroyed fascism, as well as such traditional powers as Germany, Italy, and France. Even Britain, nominally one of the war’s great victors, sat on the edge of bankruptcy and at dire risk of losing the empire that had sustained its great-power status. In place of the traditional powers of Europe now came the United States and the Soviet Union. The former had largely turned away from Europe in 1919 and might still do so again in 1945. The latter, a revolutionary regime "fresh from a bloody but triumphal victory", presented a terrible nightmare to some and an alluring future to others. In either case, the future of Europe no longer belonged exclusively, or even primarily, to Western Europeans themselves, concludes Neiberg.
The Western statesmen at Potsdam did all they could to dissociate their conference from the "unmitigated disaster" they all saw when they looked back at 1919, explains Neiberg. That they had gathered to negotiate an end to a catastrophic world war was proof enough of the futility of the Treaty of Versailles. Everyone, it seemed, brought his own criticism of the treaty, and the process that produced it, to Potsdam. To some, the problem was the process itself: the treaty had emerged from "a series of awkward compromises, trade-offs, and misunderstandings". Thus, explains Neiberg, many of the statesmen in 1945 came to the conference wanting it not to produce a definitive treaty with specific policies for which they or their successors might later have to answer, but rather to be a symbol to the world that the Big Three stood together and would work in unison to produce a more just and peaceful future.
Yet an old "ghost" haunted Potsdam – the ghost of the appeasement of the 1938 Munich conference. Many American and British diplomats had already begun to see in Soviet behavior, especially the USSR’s "highly selective" implementation of the agreements made at the Yalta Conference of February 1945, echoes of Germany’s aggressive behavior in the 1930s. The Munich example carried with it a powerful reminder of the costs of appeasement, and implied that the Americans and British should use a firmer hand in their initial postwar dealings with the Russians.
Whether or not the "ghosts" remained relevant to the problems the world faced in 1945, no one at Potsdam could avoid them, argues the author. They reminded the delegates of the cataclysmic failures of the men who had gone before them. "Virtually every decision the statesmen of 1945 made they made through the prism of events like the Paris Peace Conference of 1919 and the appeasement symbolized by the Munich Agreement of 1938," asserts Neiberg.
And these events did not come from a distant past. Unlike the men of 1919, everyone seated around the conference tables at Potsdam had personally watched the murderous events of 1914–1939 unfold. Some had even played key roles in them. Winston Churchill, for example, had staunchly opposed his own government’s appeasement policy in the late 1930s, as had others in the British delegation at Potsdam. To them, especially, the "ghosts" of Munich and an expansive Bolshevik Russia haunted the halls of Potsdam.
As Michael Neiberg further reveals, the Potsdam conference was also a "fascinating laboratory" of sorts. When Franklin Delano Roosevelt died in April 1945, he left "an enormous void in American policy," argues Neiberg. Roosevelt had conducted most of the key elements of American wartime diplomacy himself, often shutting out his new vice president, Harry Truman, who badly needed as much help as FDR could have given him. While Roosevelt had a vast reservoir of knowledge and, much more importantly, the deep respect of statesmen across the globe, the newbie Truman, "worried even those observers who came to like and respect him." Admiral William Leahy, who accompanied him to Potsdam and assumed much of the responsibility for helping him there, thought Truman so unprepared for his new role that he could not “see how the complicated critical business of the war and the peace can be carried forward by a new President who is so completely inexperienced in international affairs.”
The British government went through a similar process: British elections, with results tabulated in the middle of the Potsdam Conference, stunningly voted Winston Churchill’s Conservative Party out of office in favor of the opposition Labour Party. Like FDR, Churchill had a deep understanding of many of the key issues and enjoyed a reputation as one of the most powerful and influential men in the world, explains Neiberg. His departure mid-conference left the far less imposing Clement Attlee, who had served as Churchill’s deputy prime minister in a coalition government but had rarely been involved in key strategic decisions, to wade through. Churchill liked to deride Attlee with characteristically witty insults, such as calling him a “sheep in sheep’s clothing.” Attlee, like Truman, came to Potsdam with far less of a profile on foreign affairs than his illustrious predecessor, having made his name as an advocate of the poor and working classes. "Attlee’s slogan, 'With cake for none until all have bread,' could not have sounded less Churchillian," comments the author.
Yet, writes Neiberg further, for all these fundamental changes in personality, the policies of the Americans and the British changed remarkably little. Neither Truman nor Attlee made radical changes to their country’s main positions. According to Neiberg, this continuity in policy only underscores the role that history plays in the shaping of policy – Truman, Attlee, and the other members of the delegations at Potsdam all shared the same "nightmares" of their generation: World War I, the failed Treaty of Versailles, the Great Depression, the rise of fascism, and the outbreak of World War II.
While the Soviet Union did not go through a similar transition at the top, Stalin’s paranoia and his concern about not only his own hold on power, but his own mortality as well, made the Russians "the hardest element to read at Potsdam because of the opaqueness of the Russian system even today and the high level of paranoia within the system itself," explains the author.
Neiberg makes no attempt to assess winners and losers at Potsdam; nor does he assign credit or blame for any events that later resulted from it. Rather, he seeks to explain the conference by placing it in the context not just of 1945, but of the entire period of war and conflict from 1914 to 1945.
Potsdam: The End of World War II and the Remaking of Europe is an outstanding work, so comprehensive, masterfully written, and insightful that I cannot summarize it properly in a review. From fascinating peeks into the personalities of each of the Big Three (“There was no waste of word, gesture, nor mannerism. It was like talking to a perfectly coordinated machine," Harry Hopkins noted of Stalin, who had spent countless hours strategizing for the upcoming meeting at Potsdam despite the fatigue that had set in after four years of war, and had ordered the preparation of psychological profiles of Churchill and Truman in order to, just like in Yalta, be the best prepared.) to diplomatic blunders that worsened the relations with the USSR (such as Truman's disastrous pre-Potsdam meeting with Molotov that convinced the latter the era of cooperation with the West had ended) to sketches of each of the three great powers' post-war policies, Michael Neiberg's work is highly impressive in style and research and unique in approach to the subject, as well as interspersed with many valuable photographs.
Words cannot describe how absorbed I was in this book – it is one of the easiest five stars I've given this year. Most definitely recommendable.