Relations between France and the United States in 1945.

At the end of the war in Europe, France posed the greatest problem for American diplomacy in Western Europe.  Wartime actions, such as the American policy toward the collaborationist Vichy regime, embittered post-war relationships.[1]  While the United States had recognized and maintained diplomatic relations with the governments-in-exile of Belgium, the Netherlands, and Norway, the same recognition had not been granted to the movement led by Charles de Gaulle.  Instead, the United States had maintained diplomatic relations with the Vichy government until November 1942.[2]  Even after breaking with Vichy, while the United States had used Lend-Lease to arm an ever-larger number of French troops, the United States had sought alternatives to De Gaulle.[3]  The chosen partners of the Americans, Admiral Darlan and General Giraud, had proved frail reeds.  On 3 June 1944, De Gaulle’s Committee of National Liberation declared itself the Provisional Government of France.  After the Normandy invasion began, increasingly large chunks of liberated France were transferred to the Provisional Government, rather than placed under an Allied Government of Occupied Territories, as the French professed to fear.  When French and American troops liberated Paris in August 1944, internal Resistance leaders demonstrated their support for de Gaulle.  The American position became untenable even in the eyes of President Roosevelt.  Only then, in October 1944, did the United States extend formal recognition to the Gaullist movement.  Even so, many foreign observers doubted that the new government possessed solid political backing over the long term.[4] 

Resolving one problem opened another problem.  Did recognition of the Gaullist movement as the government of France mean that France should be considered once again a “great power”?  The British thought so; the Russians thought not; and the Americans, heaving a sigh, agreed with the British.  In December 1944, de Gaulle went to Moscow to make his case and to sign an alliance treaty against Germany.  Stalin found de Gaulle “not very realistic” and made him watch American movies all one evening.  Nevertheless, Stalin agreed to assign to France one of the five permanent seats on the Security Council of the proposed United Nations.  Still, France did not receive an invitation to either the Yalta Conference (February 1945) or the Potsdam Conference (July 1945).[5]  It did, however, get an occupation zone in Germany[6] and membership in the Council of Foreign Ministers that would write the post-war peace treaties. 

Did France possess the real resources to act as a great power?  In 1945 the answer would have to be that it did not.  French population was low in comparison to Germany and population growth had stalled.  French industry had been backward before the war began and German exploitation during the Occupation had virtually ruined what still did exist.  Over the short-run, the French military depended upon free American arms and equipment; over the long-run, a large military clashed with the need for labor to rebuild the economy.  The French Empire, re-named the French Union as if that made a difference, threatened to become more of a drain on resources than a prop to French power.  In Indo-China, in Madagascar, in Syria, and in Algeria, French subjects looked very restive.  Hence, France might be a great power once again at some future date.  That would depend upon France’s ability to renovate its economy, society, and politics.  Foreign observers might be forgiven for thinking this an unlikely prospect.   

Worse, everyone seemed intent on shoving France down-hill.  At the July 1945 Yalta Conference, the “Big Three” had agreed that a Council of Foreign Ministers would write the post-war peace treaties.  However, the Russians had blocked France from having a voice in any peace settlement other than the Italian one.  In particular, this meant that France’s inter-war alliances in Eastern Europe had been declared null and void by the Russians.[7]  On a lesser scale, a September 1945 American proposal for a system of bases on islands in the Pacific included plans for a permanent base on French New Caledonia.  This plan did not go down well with any of the countries involved.  The French government announced that France would defend its possessions.[8] 

Then, Syria and Lebanon were eager for French troops to depart, but the French dragged their feet as they tried to think of some way to retain influence in the area.  This led to trouble in May 1945.  The British had to send troops to help the under-manned France forces restore “order.”  In December 1945, the French and British had made an agreement on the pace of the French withdrawal without bothering to consult the Syrians or the Lebanese.  When criticism rained down on the French and the British, both French Foreign Minister Georges Bidault and British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin offered weaselly responses.[9] 

In sum, the new French government would find it a hard struggle to rebuild France’s lost stature as even a European power. 


[1] John Campbell et al, The United States in World Affairs, 1945-1947, hereafter USIWA (1947), p. 11. 

[2] In November 1942, the British and Americans had invaded French North Africa, the German troops had occupied the Southern Zone of France. 

[3] Franklin D. Roosevelt’s hostility to de Gaulle is as perplexing.  Perhaps the French general reminded the president of Douglas MacArthur. 

[4] USIWA, pp. 47-49. 

[5] USIWA, pp. 29, 49. 

[6] Carved out of the British and American zones from territory bordering on France. 

[7] USIWA, p. 64.  Those alliances had been with Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Yugoslavia.  Poland was thoroughly under Russian control.  Czechoslovakia preserved the fiction of a pro-Soviet free government until a Communist coup in 1948.  Indigenous Communists ruled Yugoslavia.   

[8] USIWA, p. 43.    

[9] USIWA, pp. 95-96. 

The Basis of French Politics in the First Half of the Twentieth Century.

    

            One could look at the historical and institutional experiences to see their political effect. 

            It had taken centuries of hard, often bloody work to create a unified “France.”  Memories of war and civil war, of resistance and rebellion remained strong.  So did regional and religious and class identities.  Most importantly, after 1789 France divided between the supporters of Freedom//the Republic/”Movement” and the supporters of Authority/Property/”Order.”  Both groups felt threatened by the other, so they presented all their own actions as a defense against the aggression of “Them.”[1]  So French politics was (and is) often about some other issue(s) than the formal one under discussion.  Any attempt to sort out an issue through discussion could go South quickly.  In the words of the sociologist Michel Crozier, the French developed a “horror of face-to-face discussion.”[2] Instead, they kicked things upstairs to authorities.  But they didn’t trust those authorities either.[3]   

For one thing, government seems impermanent.  There have been frequent changes of regime ever since the Revolution.[4]  The Republic, “One and Indivisible”; the Napoleonic Empire; the Bourbon Restoration Monarchy and the Orleanist July Monarchy[5]; the Second Republic; the Second Empire; the Third Republic; the Vichy Regime; the Fourth Republic[6]; and the Fifth Republic.  The United States has had one constitution over the same period. 

Then, depending on one’s political tribe, there was the hope or danger that a soldier would take power.  Napoleon I, General Patrice MacMahon (the first President of the Third Republic), General Georges Boulanger, and Field Marshall Philippe Petain were soldiers who had seized or tried to seize power from republican government.  Highly attuned to the problem of ambitious, autocratic soldiers, the centrist politicians of the Fourth Republic saw General Charles de Gaulle in this light.[7]   

No one could put much trust in a government might disappear. 

If the politicians were unreliable, the bureaucracy was not.  Napoleon I had created a powerful and centralized government machinery; it had only grown stronger with the passage of time.  The bureaucracy continued to exist whatever regime held power.  It could be abused by politicians, or be manipulated by representatives of interest groups.[8]  More prosaically, the face of the State in villages and towns were the dreaded tax collector and the recruiting sergeant. 


[1] Philip Williams, Crisis and Compromise: Politics in the Fourth Republic (1958), p. 7.   

[2] See: Dreyfus dinner party: Caran-d-ache-dreyfus-supper – Dreyfus affair – Wikipedia  In panel one, the host says “No talking about the Dreyfus case.”  In panel two the caption says “They talked about it anyway.” 

[3] Williams, Crisis and Compromise, p. 5. 

[4] See: Peintures Soudee Advert J Sennep Vernis Soudee Villejuif Seine pc unused S811 | eBay UK  The ad says “Republics pass; Soudee paint lasts.”  The ads were in the Paris Metro stations.  I think that the company got a lot of flak because the Fourth Republic actually was tottering at that time. 

[5] Two branches of the same family fighting over whether the monarchy should be backward-looking or forward-looking. 

[6] The raffish, scandal-plagued Fourth Republic (1944-1958) resembled the “Directory” period of the late First Republic. 

[7] Williams, Crisis and Compromise, p. 8.

[8] Williams, Crisis and Compromise, pp. 1-2. 

The “Old West” in the “New West.”

            A bunch of strands run together in Prescott, Arizona.  William Prescott (1726-1795) farmed in Massachusetts and served in the militia in a bunch of small-scale wars.  Then he commanded the American troops at Bunker Hill.  His grandson, another William Prescott (1796-1859), made himself into America’s first great historian.  Possessed of rare intelligence and determination, he struggled against gravely defective eyesight.  He chose as his subject the Spanish rampage through the America’s in the early 1500s.  In his books, handfuls of bold men fired by religious conviction and greed launch themselves into the South American wilderness.  Vastly out-numbered and far from home, they conquered the Aztec and Inca Empires.  The first fruits of victory—gold–fell to these “conquistadors,” but over the long run their conquests enriched their homeland.  Prescott had a brilliant writing style.  More importantly, 19th Century Americans thought that he spoke directly to them. 

            By the 1830s, the mountain men had trapped out the Rockies, then fell to other work.  Mostly this meant scouting for the Army and guiding Westward-bound “pilgrims.”  Joe Walker (1798-1876) fit this mold.  His expertise lay in the mountains of the Southwest.  In 1863 he led a party of gold-hunters into the mountains of West Central Arizona.  They found gold, so more prospectors arrived.  The Apache Wars brought an Army fort.  A mining camp more than a town, but in 1864 it became the chosen site of the territorial capital.  What to call it?  Prescott, after William Prescott the historian.[1]  The rough-and-ready town prospered.  Then the gold and silver played out; the Apache were defeated; and the state capital moved away. 

            The old town is the location for two good movies about the “New West.”  Prescott has revived, in part thanks to tourism.  It hosts “Frontier Days,” which includes a rodeo that has run continuously since 1888 and which pulls in 30,000 visitors.  In “Junior Bonner” (dir. Sam Peckinpah, 1972), Steve McQueen plays a rodeo cowboy on the downslope of his career.  He returns home to Prescott in stubborn pursuit of one more chance to ride a bull that has thrown him before.  His father is an old-fashioned boom-and-bust prospector; his brother is a money-hungry property developer selling nostalgia.  His sister-in-law tells him derisively “He’s working on his first million and you’re still trying for eight seconds.”[2]  Bonner refuses a chance to move into management, punches his brother, rides the bull, and spends his prize money on a one-way ticket to Australia for his father.[3] 

            Prescott also shows the dangers of development pushing towns out into Nature.  In “Only the Brave” (dir. Joseph Kosinski, 2017), wildland fire is a constant from the Rockies westward.  On the news you see reporters in spotless yellow Nomex shirts and guys in dirty yellow Nomex shirts.  Never pictured are the “Hotshots” who do the real work cutting containment lines close to the fire.  Twenty-person crews with chain saws and shovels working 12-hour days.  It builds pride and comradeship among tough people far from the limelight.  The movie portrays the redemptive powers of comradeship among people sharing hard experiences.  Brendan McDonough is leading a disastrous life: drugs, indolence, lies, theft, and a pregnant ex-girlfriend all come together.  Hitting bottom, he applies for a job with the Prescott-based “Granite Mountain Hotshots.”  The job and the people start him on a new life.  McDonough gets bitten by a rattlesnake.  At the hospital, he opts to take the pain, rather than blunt it with drugs.  Soon afterward, the crew is sent to fight a fire named for Yarnell Hill near Prescott. Still lame from the snakebite, McDonough is detached to fire-spotting.  While he is away, the fire suddenly overruns his crew.  Nineteen men are killed.  They died together, doing work that gave their lives meaning.  But the heartbreak among their families and friends and community is terrible.  “And I alone am left.”[4]  

            Both movies center on the survival of “Old West” values in a modern world that seems to lack—and miss—them. 


[1] The name was suggested by Richard McCormick, the secretary to the territorial governor.  A sickly child, McCormick had read a great deal in bed and well-plumped chairs.  Subsequently, he became a war correspondent, frontier newspaperman, and politician.  “We see how he comes over us with our wilder days,…” 

[2] The time he has to stay on the bull to win the big buckle. 

[3] See: Monte Walsh – The Cowboy Life 

[4] 1 Kings, 19: 10. 

Cubism 90 miles from our shores.

            Communism failed in Cuba long ago.  From early on, the Cuban “Revolution” had to be subsidized by the Soviet Union.  That covered over many of the economic failings of a centrally-planned mono-crop agricultural economy.  The political failings were covered over by prisons and forced emigration.  Then the Soviet Union collapsed, the subsidies ended, and Cuban went into a downward spiral.  Conditions of life for ordinary Cubans have grown worse and worse.  All sorts of things were going wrong before President Trump’s recent blockade: rice production was falling; the electricity generation was falling, causing rolling blackouts; the predominance of sugar cultivation limited how much food farmers could produce.  Only an oil subsidy from Venezuela kept anything functioning.[1] 

            President Donald Trump is a lame-duck.  That means he’s free to try anything he wants.[2]  With regard to Cuba, he seems to want the Communist regime gone.  He got the successors to Maduro in Venezuela to turn off the oil tap.  Now, Cuba has run out of diesel and fuel oil, and gas stations are closed.  Garbage trucks can’t collect, so piles of trash line the streets in Havana and elsewhere.  Most of the electricity is turned off for most of the day to most of the people.  “Communism has ended light pollution!” 

            The director if the Central Intelligence Agency, John Ratcliffe, paid a call on the Cuban government.  The US would give Cuba $100 million in aid.  There was a catch: “new people” have to be put in place to carry out “meaningful reforms.”  That is, “y’all need to bolt to Spain and right quick.”  He got no takers. 

            Hamas in Gaza, the Islamic Republic of Iran, Chavez and Maduro in Venezuela, and Cuba: dictatorships are willing to allow intense harm to their “citizens” so long as they can hold onto power. 

            If Communism could collapse from a mere lack of popular support, it would have done so many years ago.  It is likely to collapse from an upsurge of public anger and action over the failures of the Revolution.  Should the United States be trying to hustle forward that collapse?   The collapse might be preceded or accompanied by a gigantic boatlift of refugees.  That would not accord with closing the southern border.  In Madrid cafes, Cuban Communists are going to blame the US for all their problems anyway, so why not?  Progressives will argue that overthrowing Cuban Communism creates a moral obligation to help on the part of the United States.  Moral obligation probably isn’t the first thought to occur to the Trump Whitehouse. 

            Viewed from an international relations perspective, Trump appears to be pursuing a “spheres of influence” approach.  He has yarded Nicholas maduro (and his wife) out of their palace in their jammies in order to put them on trial in New York.  He’s been trying to (and maybe succeeding) put the fear of God and the United States into Mexican President Claudia Scheinbaum over government complicity in the drug trade.  Now he seems ready to bulldoze Cuba over the brink.  All Western hemisphere countries.  Meanwhile, he’s less forthright in support of Ukraine and Taiwan.  They’re in Eastern Europe and the Far East.  Perhaps that’s forcing things into a pattern that doesn’t exist. 


[1] “Cuba: Barely holding on as Trump turns out the lights,” and “Cuba: Trump’s next takeover target,” The Week, 29 May 2026, pp. 14, 17. 

[2] He doesn’t seem deeply concerned abut the impact of his actions on the electability of other Republicans.