Given these circumstances, Hitler found it advisable to make placating gestures and to stress continuity with the moderate Weimar policy. Although he despised the personnel of the Foreign Office and occasionally spoke of “those Santa Clauses in the Wilhelmstrasse,” he left both the bureaucracy and the diplomatic corps almost untouched. For at least six years, he told one of his followers, he must maintain a kind of truce with the European powers; all the saber rattling of nationalistic circles was a mistake, he said.26 Typical of his strategy was his grand “peace speech” of May 17, 1933, although he mingled his sincere-sounding offers of reconciliation with some strong words against the persisting distinction between victors and defeated and even threatened to withdraw from the Disarmament Conference and from the League of Nations altogether if the victors continued to deny equal rights to Germany. But in the present situation he could easily assume the role of an advocate of reason and fairness by taking the European powers at their word, invoking their own slogans of “self-determination” and a “just peace.” So great was the general gratification at Hitler’s moderation that no one detected the warning contained within his speech. Along with the London Times many influential voices throughout the world supported Hitler’s demand that Germany be treated on a footing of equality with the other powers. President Roosevelt was actually delighted with Hitler’s tone.27
The most visible success of this policy was the Four Power Pact between England, France, Germany, and Italy that was drawn up in the summer of 1933. Although never ratified, it signified a kind of moral acceptance of Germany into the society of great powers. But Germany’s first partner in international negotiations was the Soviet Union, which hastened to renew the Berlin Treaty that had expired in 1931. Russia was followed closely by the Vatican, which in July concluded the arrangements for a concordat with the Reich. But even though things were going well, in the autumn Hitler swung the rudder around with an abruptness that seemed to spring from a blind emotion and managed thereby to perceptibly improve his whole position.
His field of operations was the Disarmament Conference in Geneva, which had been meeting since the beginning of 1932. Because of her military weakness, Germany exerted a particularly strong moral sway at this conference. The principle of equality compelled the other powers either to disarm or to accept the rearmament of Germany. In speech after speech, statement after statement, Hitler could stress Germany’s readiness to disarm; the more France’s anxieties came to the fore, the more simple-heartedly and persuasively Hitler could argue. France was watching events in Germany with deep uneasiness; she found these developments far more telling than Hitler’s bland assurances, even though her persistent distrust—which blocked all negotiations—cast her in a bad light internationally. But by pointing to the system of repression inside the Reich, to the increasing militarization, the constant marching, the flags, uniforms and parades, the organizational vocabulary with its “storm troops,” “brigades” and “headquarters guards,” and the battle songs in which the whole human race trembled before a Germany that owned the world, France at last managed to bring the other powers around. The equality conceded to Germany in principle was made dependent on a four-year period of probation, so that the others could observe whether their former enemy was sincerely ready for reconciliation and had abandoned all revanchist notions.
Hitler reacted by flaring up. On October 14, shortly after British Foreign Secretary Sir John Simon had presented the Allies’ new views, Hitler announced his intention to quit the Disarmament Conference. Along with this, he proclaimed Germany’s withdrawal from the League of Nations. His state of mind is indicated by his orders to the army—revealed at the Nuremberg Trials—to resist with armed force if an attempt were made to apply sanctions.28
This first coup, with which Hitler took the regime’s foreign policy into his own hands, created stupefaction. It is true that he had not made the decision on his own—as has been widely thought. He was supported strongly by Foreign Minister von Neurath, who had previously advocated a deliberate sharpening of Germany’s foreign policy. But the emotional posturing, the tone of grand indignation, unquestionably derived from Hitler himself. And it was also he who posed the alternatives as “withdrawal or dishonor.” In a radio address delivered on the evening of October 14 he applied to foreign affairs the dual tactics which had proved of such value to him in domestic affairs: he masked his belligerence by a torrent of words and show of amicability. He called France “our ancient but glorious opponent” and stated that “anyone who can conceive of a war between our two countries is mad.”
These tactics paralyzed the European powers, who in any case were hardly disposed to take decisive counteraction. None of their spokesmen had any idea what do do. Hitler was contemptuously tossing back in their faces the “honor” for which the Weimar regime had so long and patiently sued. His brashness stunned them. But some hid their surprise and embarrassment by congratulating the others on being rid of an inconvenient partner in negotiations. A few demanded military intervention; in the lobbies at Geneva angry exclamations of “C’est la guerre!” could be heard. But this was not meant to be taken seriously. Yet amid the tumult it seemed to dawn on people for the first time that this man was demanding of old Europe an admission of bankruptcy. Moreover, it was becoming apparent that he had delivered a fatal blow to a wounded League of Nations already undermined by fear, mistrust, and selfishness. At the same time, the idea of disarmament was killed off. If it is true, as has been remarked, that Hitler’s conquest of power was actually a declaration of war upon the system of peace instituted at Versailles,29 then the declaration was made on that October 14, 1933. But no one acknowledged it. General annoyance with the protracted Geneva palaver, with paradoxes and hypocrisies, was expressed above all in the British press. The conservative Morning Post declared that it would shed no tears over the League of Nations and the Disarmament Conference; the proper feeling was relief that such “a humbug” had come to an end. When the newsreel in a London theater showed Hitler, the audience applauded.30
Fearing that the easy success of the surprise tactics would go to Hitler’s head, Hermann Rauschning, coming from Geneva, called on him at the Berlin chancellery. He found Hitler “in the best of spirits; he was all keyed-up and eager to take action.” With a contemptuous gesture he waved away what Rauschning had to say about the indignation at Geneva and the call for military sanctions. “You say they want war?” he asked. “They have no thought of it…. A sad crew is assembled there. They don’t act, they only protest. And they’ll always think of things too late…. These people will not stop Germany’s rise.”
For a time, Rauschning’s report continues, Hitler paced back and forth in silence. He seemed to be aware that for the first time since January 30 he had entered a risky zone, which he must now cross, and that his forceful act could have the direst consequences for the country. Without looking up, Hitler justified his decision in a kind of monologue. In doing so he offered Rauschning a remarkable insight into the structure of his decision making: