Wind over Sand: The Diplomacy of Franklin Roosevelt

by Frederick W. Marks III

Bound in the publisher's original quarter black and red cloth with the spine stamped in black.

Genres: American

472 pages, Hardcover

First published June 1, 1988

About the author

Frederick W. Marks III was an American historian and Catholic apologist. As a scholar, he has written and taught extensively on American diplomatic history. As a proponent of Roman Catholicism, he has written dozens of articles and tracts and spoken extensively in public. Marks graduated with a B.A. from the College of the Holy Cross, and a Ph.D. from the University of Michigan. He taught at the University of Michigan, Purdue University, and St. John’s University.

Reviews

[Tommy · Rating 4 out of 5]

A critical analysis of the various foreign policy gyrations of the FDR administration in relation to Japan/Europe/Latin America... takes issue with what he sees as Roosevelt's worldly but smug/naive attitude towards foreigners.

Ultimately, it was the indecisiveness in Roosevelt's style which dominated all else. While Dooman delivered an ultimatum to Tokyo, the president put on a jolly reception for Admiral Nomura, telling him that instead of calling him "ambassador" he would like to use the more familiar title "admiral." At Argentia, Roosevelt promised Churchill he would deliver an explicit warning to Japan. Instead, he conveyed a rather mild message, further diluted by friendly talk of a summit conference. In one instance, he adopted Stimson's interventionist policy; in another, he supported the Tydings-McDuffie Act, which Stimson disapproved and which suggested disengagement. The British urged him to settle with Japan or mobilize all the resources at his command. In other words, he must either fish or cut bait. What he did, in fact, was to substitute words for action, condemnation for policy.
With respect to Europe, one can never be certain that if Roosevelt's tactics and strategy had been different, he might have succeeded in averting World War II, any more than one has a right to assume that different approaches would have produced an acceptable solution to challenges facing the United States in the Far East. Stalin might have found a way of enlarging Russia's sphere of influence without the help of Washington. At the same time, it cannot be denied that FDR carried great weight as head of a nation which had long been a decisive factor on the world scene. Fie must bear a measure of blame for the outbreak of fighting in Europe if for no other reason than the fact that while he encouraged democratic leaders to count on speedy aid from America, aid that proved wanting when the chips were down, he assured Flitler of his sympathy for revanchist goals and erected little in the way of a credible deterrent.
Such a tendency was already apparent when he sympathized with German grievances on the Versailles settlement while applauding French resistance to pro-German adjustments embodied in the Four Power Pact. Resistance mounted rapidly on both sides and with it the likelihood of bloodshed. There was grave danger in the Atlantic that Britain and France would invite war if they perceived the United States as a reliable partner in case of need. Conversely, there was the risk that Germany might go to extremes if she assumed too little strength on the side of America. It was Roosevelt's greatest undoing as a peacemaker that he managed to convey both impressions simultaneously. Grooming the image of crusader at home, he acted secretly as an agent of appeasement. In the end, he fueled optimism on both sides of the conflict until a peaceful solution slipped gradually beyond reach.
Elsewhere, he exhibited similar bifurcation, making certain that France experienced difficulty maintaining order in Vietnam, yet not so much difficulty that she had to abandon her colony altogether. He applied damaging pressure on Chiang without forcing substantial change. He raised Indian hopes without furnishing the means of satisfaction.
In more positive language, Roosevelt had alternatives. Neither isolationist sentiment nor the need for domestic reform, neither his subordinates nor the bureaucratic tangle ever prevented him from rearming. No agent inside or outside of his administration compelled him to rush the opening of the London Economic Conference in 1933 and then to torpedo it. He need not have signed a recognition treaty with the Soviet Union without assurance of a satisfactory quid pro quo. He was under no pressure to tilt against de Gaulle or to take sides against the inclusion of Russia in an entente capable of halting Axis growth. Nor did he have to bring down upon his country the heaped-up scorn of the dictators. Nothing obliged him to egg France and Britain on in the ominous years before September 1939, intimating aid far beyond what he could deliver.
When all factors are weighed, it is perhaps the parochial aspect of America, as much as anything else, which frustrated its chance for a more fruitful international exchange. There was no compelling reason why Washington had to select envoys incapable of conducting an official conversation in the tongue of the country to which they were accredited, particularly such nations as Mexico, Italy, Czechoslovakia, Russia, Germany, China, and Japan. The Spanish foreign minister, surprised that FDR would appoint Carlton Hayes to head the American mission in Madrid when the latter could speak neither Spanish nor French, remarked in his memoirs that this was enough in itself to render Hayes unfit for useful service. Roosevelt need not have chosen men to serve as secretary of state and chief of the Division of Western Europe who spoke no language but their own. Although his policy on diplomatic appointments did not differ substantially from that of other presidents, one could wish that it had, for his record in this regard proved to be completely undistinguished.