Yet Mussolini declined to be bought off, and his troops pushed forward. The League decided to impose limited economic sanctions against Italy, a proposal the National Government reluctantly agreed with, to the annoyance of some Tory backbenchers and the delight of a group of Labour MPs. The pacifist section of the party disagreed, however, and Labour split into two factions. Baldwin’s unerring political instinct prompted him to call an election. During the campaign he successfully exploited Labour’s divisions, while boasting of the National Government’s success in hauling Britain out of its economic malaise. A Conservative-dominated National Government would, he promised, do everything in its ‘power to uphold the Covenant and maintain and increase the efficacy of the League … collective security can alone save us’. Baldwin had not attended a single meeting of the organization, yet now posed as its defender.
Baldwin struck a winning formula on rearmament that confirmed his genius for equivocal language. He asked for a mandate from the electorate to ‘remedy the deficiencies which have occurred in our defences’ in order to further the aims of the League, while at the same time giving his word ‘that there will be no … materially increased forces’. Since voters were themselves ambivalent about rearmament, they were perhaps inclined to give Baldwin the benefit of the doubt. In any case, he was Britain’s most experienced politician following Lloyd George’s retirement. Labour, meanwhile, was growing in confidence and cohesion under the leadership of Clement Attlee. Yet although Attlee was a unifying force within a divided party, he lacked Baldwin’s public appeal.
At the election of November 1935 the Conservatives lost some seats, as was usual for an incumbent government, but still claimed almost 50 per cent of the popular vote. They also increased their dominance within the coalition, since both the National Liberal and National Labour parties suffered heavy losses. Attlee’s Labour performed well, gaining 38 per cent of the popular vote, yet Labour’s 154 MPs posed no serious threat to the government. With hindsight, the most significant consequence of the result was that it left in power the ‘old gang’, as they were derisively known at the time. Baldwin assembled a cabinet of the ‘second-class intellects’ he favoured, who could be trusted to react cautiously to events rather than to try and influence them. The sharpest and most dynamic member of the government was Chamberlain, the chancellor, but he had no flair for foreign affairs, which now dominated parliament.
Churchill, meanwhile, was alienated from the party leadership. This was partly because of his opposition to its cautious rearmament, but mostly because of his views on India. A few months prior to the election, Baldwin had passed the Government of India Act, which granted the country virtual self-government. Churchill had bitterly opposed the bill, on the grounds that it would lose British manufacturers a key market and cause unemployment at home. The introduction of democratic elections, he argued, was also of no real advantage to India, since the country was not ready for them. Besides, it would only increase the power of Gandhi, whom Churchill described as ‘a seditious Middle Temple lawyer, posing as a fakir’.
Churchill had openly challenged Baldwin over the Government of India Act, yet only fifty or so Conservative MPs had joined him. Most Tory backbenchers had seen no reason to fight their popular leader over a lost cause, while many older Conservatives regarded Churchill as a shameless careerist. Meanwhile, younger politicians in the party, such as Harold Macmillan, saw him as a reactionary anachronism. Another prominent young Tory, Anthony Eden, was equally hostile to Churchill and stood by Baldwin, who rewarded him with the offer of a seat in the cabinet. Henceforth Churchill was isolated in the Commons; he made speeches in which he warned of impending disaster, but they invariably went unheeded.
Once in office, Baldwin reneged on his key campaign promises and rearmament now began in earnest. Over the next two years, the chiefs of staff looked to match Germany in every military department, having identified her as the potential enemy. The government’s official aim was still to convince Germany to return to the League, yet a contingency diplomatic plan was necessary should that fail. Part of the strategy was the courting of Italy, a potential ally of Germany. As a result, Baldwin’s electoral commitment to ‘increase the efficacy of the League’ was severely tested by events in Abyssinia, where the Italian invasion continued.
Representatives of the League now demanded full sanctions against Italy, including an embargo on oil. They also urged the deployment of a naval fleet in the Mediterranean, to halt the flow of supplies and men between Italy and Africa and to suggest the threat of war. Yet the government was unenthusiastic about both the embargo and the naval manoeuvres, which might involve losses and leave Britain exposed to Japanese ships in the Pacific. It did not believe the French would join the British fleet, and it was also intimidated by Italian air power. Behind these various excuses, historians have sensed the British government’s overwhelming desire to avoid alienating a key ally, as well as the fear of provoking another war. Baldwin viewed that prospect with terror, as did the pacifist king: ‘I will go to Trafalgar Square and wave a red flag myself,’ commented George, ‘sooner than allow this country to be brought in … to a horrible and unnecessary war.’ Instead of taking action against Italy, the foreign secretary Samuel Hoare tried to buy off Mussolini with an improved offer that involved Abyssinia ceding extensive territories.
Somehow Hoare’s secret plan was leaked, to public outcry. The National Government had sworn to defend the League, but was now bypassing it in favour of an ally guilty of unprovoked aggression. Protest marches were organized throughout England, and countless petitions were drawn up, while Labour MPs spoke out against the government’s perfidy. The government dropped the plan, while Hoare was forced to resign as foreign secretary. He was replaced by Anthony Eden.
In the absence of an alternative policy, Baldwin reluctantly contemplated imposing oil sanctions on Italy. But as the prime minister procrastinated, Mussolini urged his armies to press on. To break the staunch Abyssinian resistance, the Italians used poisonous mustard gas, in contravention of the 1925 Geneva Protocol; they also indiscriminately attacked civilians, Red Cross units and medical facilities. Eventually, in May 1936, the emperor of Abyssinia surrendered and left his country.
The exiled emperor demanded that the League condemn Italy’s ‘violations of international agreements’ and criticized Britain and France for condoning the Italian conquest. ‘It is us today,’ he prophesied; ‘it will be you tomorrow.’ His efforts were in vain. Under pressure from the British and the French, the League recognized Italian Abyssinia and ended sanctions against Mussolini’s regime. Once again the public was outraged, while Churchill accused Baldwin of ‘discrediting’ the League. The National Government believed that undermining the organization was justified if the goodwill of Italy was secured, yet its handling of the affair was an abject failure. By imposing limited sanctions, Britain had angered Mussolini, who now announced that the Stresa declaration was void. The news was welcomed by Hitler, who embarked on diplomatic discussions with his fellow Fascist dictator in Italy. European Fascism was uniting.
With Italy now friendly towards him, and the British and French preoccupied with the Abyssinian question, in March 1936 Hitler decided to remilitarize the Rhineland, in contravention of the Versailles Treaty and the Locarno Pact. He was relying on the British to reject calls from the French for united military action against Germany. If the National Government would not stand up to Mussolini when he had invaded the territory of a fellow League member, Hitler calculated that it would not oppose a peaceful movement of the German army into German territory, and his gamble paid off. The government declined to support French calls for military action, a tearful Baldwin admitting to the French government that Britain’s limited military resources rendered such action impossible. He added that public opinion was also against military intervention – most English people had no objection to German soldiers going into their ‘own backyard’.