EDEN MEMOIRS: XIV THE WAR-TIME CABINET REACHES JOURNEY’S END

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30725, 14 April 1965, Page 16

EDEN MEMOIRS: XIV THE WAR-TIME CABINET REACHES JOURNEY’S END

IBy

ANTHONY EDEN,

now the Ear! of Avon/

On July 17 [1945] the President told the Prime Minister that the first atom bomb had been exploded at Alamogordo. Despite this reported success, there was still some uncertainty about the bomb’s effectiveness. Later, when Mr Churchill and I saw Mr Truman and Mr Janies Byrnes, now Secretary of State, on July 22, it was decided that we must drop an atom bomb on Japan if she did not accept unconditional surrender.

The Russians had previously rejected Japanese approaches to mediate on their behalf, which they later reported to us These moves were not significant, because they were not from any quarter in Japan where power then lay. The second bombing at Nagasaki was carried out without consultation with us. To Tell Stalin? Mr Churchill and 1 had previously discussed together the problem of telling Stalin and, if so, whether before the explosion of the bomb or after. If we did tell him would he ask for the know-how at once? A refusal would be awkward, but inescapable. There were embarrassments every way, but on balance 1 was in favour of telling Stalin. My chief argument was that the United States and Britain would have to refuse the secret information. They would be better placed to do this if Stalin had already been told that we possessed this weapon and meant to use it. There was not much to this, but the Prime Minister thought it the better way. On the question of when Stalin was to be told, it was (agreed that President Truman should do this after the conclusion of one of our meetings. He did so on July 24, so briefly that Mr Churchill and I, who were covertly watching, had some doubts whether Stalin had taken, it in. His response was a nod of the head and a brief “Thank you.” No comment. Election Defeat On July 25 1 flew home to learn the election results. 1 was not too happy about them. However, Mr Churchill was receiving confident predictions and I saw that my doubts were not welcome. That evening my agent, who was an experienced campaigner, telephoned to me with an optimistic forecast of the position in my constituency. As I learnt afterwards, mine was one of the six or seven largest Conservative majorities in the country. “July 26; Rumour had it that we were doing badly elsewhere so stopped at Conservative Club where gloomiest reports were confirmed. ... It is evident that we are out. Rang up Winston and said what 1 could." When 1 went to see the Prime Minister on my arrival in London, he told me that he had already resigned. We did not speak much of the future; it hardly seemed possible. My own feeling was of overwhelming sympathy with this man, to whom his country owed so much and for whom this was a devastat-

ing, and especially a personal, defeat.

He had been deeply moved by the large, enthusiastic crowds he addressed in every city in the land during the campaign, though in truth they were only saying: “Thank you. You have led us superbly. We shall always be grateful to you.” He could not be expected to sense that there was also something valedictory in their message. He would not have been Winston Churchill if he* had.

“July 26: 1 never expected such a landslide as this. Nor do I think it need have been. We fought the campaign badly. It was foolish to try to win on W.’s personality alone instead of on a programme. Modern electorate is too intelligent for that, and they didn’t like being talked down to. “July 27: At noon W. held farewell Cabinet. It was pretty grim affair. After it was over I was on my way to front door when W. called me back and we had half an hour alone. Churchill “Wretched” “He was pretty wretched, poor old boy. Said he didn’t feel any more reconciled this morning: on the contrary it hurt more, like a wound which becomes painful after first shock. He couldn’t help feeling his treatment had been scurvy. ‘Thirty years of my life had been passed in this room. I shall never sit in it again. You will, but I shall not,’ with more to the same effect. “I replied as best 1 could that his place in history could have gained nothing by anything he might have achieved in this room in the postwar years. That place was secure anyway. This he accepted and at length we parted. “1 couldn't help reflecting as I walked down the passage on all that the experiences of these war years in that Cabinet Room has meant to me. I cannot believe I can ever know anything like it again.” Nor have L for thus ended nearly six years at a stretch as a senior Minister in the Government, almost all of it as a member of the War Cabinet. As I look back, the dominating impression is one of work and yet more work, much of it against time, but made bearable or even welcome, by a heightened sense of purpose. Arguments there were, even sharp depate and occasional outbursts of anger or indignation, as was inevitable between men of character and opinions so constantly together, but no continuing tension or intrigue; on the contrary respect, friendship and even affection among those who bore the chief burden. I doubt if it would have been tolerable otherwise. The War Cabinet which Churchill assembled came to function with the sense of authority and power which this crucial period demanded. It was the combined creation of the Prime Minister’s leadership and the men he chose. The Labour members, Attlee, Bevin and in the later years Morrison, though so diverse in character, added up to a total of efficiency and were inshakeably reliable in crisis. Sound Machinery It must seem fantastic to modern eyes that throughout this time the whole Government of the country and direction of the war in its every aspect should have been the responsibility of the War Cabinet and the Defence Committee. The former was composed of six or seven members, three of whom, Mr Churchill, Mr Attlee and myself, doubled on the Defence Committee, with Mr Lyttelton added to us on his return from Cairo. The machinery for the military and political conduct of the war had been discerningly built and it worked, withstanding all strains, including the exhausting eccentricity of hours dear to the Prime Minister. Churchill knew how to get the best out of it and though he never -spared himself he never wasted himself either. “Don't be put upon,” he once said to me, and he lived up to his advice.

The Chiefs of Staff as professionals of proven ability had to endure and to know when to accept any of the variety of theories and suggestions constantly put to them. Equally they were free to propound their own ideas and did so, even if the timing could be a matter of nice judgment. All in all, as I walked out of Downing Street that summer afternoon, 1 could not expect to be enlisted in such company again. Mr Churchill and I went through the years of opposition still together. This was a period of few rewards, though the rebuilding of the

Party’s confidence and fortunes was fascinating. More than 12 years had passed since Mr Churchill and I had first worked together before the General Election of 1951 placed the Conservative Party precariously back in power.

It is a common happening that those in power, as their tenure of office continues find themselves less and less able to contemplate relinquishing it The vows they made earlier that they would give way to a younger man when the years begin to blunt their faculties, when illness begins to twist their judgment, these they choose to ignore. Power has become a habit they cannot bear to cast off.

Mr Churchill, by his indubitable stature and bis weighty talents, belied this process. What neither he nor I could have foreseen was that when at last I stepped into his place, I should have so short a run. Thirty years of political work at high tension and feckless disregard for my health were to claim their forfeit. Japan Surrenders On August 14, 1945, Japan surrendered. The six years of ordeal were over, from the edge of defeat through a balance of strength to victory. Everywhere the nation was rejoicing. That evening Mr Churchill invited a number of his former colleagues in the Conservative Party to dine with him in a private room at Claridge’s. Dinner was something of an unreality to me because it seemed so strange that Churchill was not at the centre of the national celebration instead of dining apart in an hotel.

When dinner was finished, we adjourned to another large room where the wireless was turned on in a corner and we sat and listened in a circle. After a while Mr Attlee barked out a few short sent ences, then gave the terms. The Japanese had surrendered. The war was over. There was a silence. Mr Churchill had not been asked to say any word to the nation We went home. Journey s end. (Concluded) Pl !? l P y h r l lght „ 1965 The «*•» h,ng Con >P«ny. Ltd. AU rights reserved 6y Opera Mundi L a ” s . l count ries except Great Britain. Reproduction in hibked ° r ln Part ,trlctly P r °-

In the middle of July, 1945, with polling in the British election completed but the votes not counted, Churchill and Eden (accompanied by Attlee) attended the Potsdam conference with Truman and Stalin. The atom bomb had been under development.