Monday, Mar. 06, 1939

"Guardian"

(See Cover)

First European statesman to appreciate the menace of Nazi Germany to the peace of Europe and to understand the Messianic mind of Adolf Hitler was the late Marshal Josef Pilsudski, for nine years revered dictator of Poland. When Herr Hitler first came to power Marshal Pilsudski proposed to France a joint "preventive" war against Germany. The French laughed at the suggestion. On his own hook the Marshal then got in contact with Fuehrer Hitler, delivered an ultimatum which, in effect, said: "Do you want war or peace? If war, our Army marches tomorrow morning. If peace, sign here."

Nazi Germany had then scarcely begun to rearm. The last thing it wanted was a fight with the large, well-trained Polish Army. Fuehrer Hitler chose peace, signed a ten-year, non-aggression pact with Poland. Oddly enough, the pact has been scrupulously observed and Fuehrer Hitler has shown few signs of going back on his word. In fact, Marshal Pilsudski's belligerent tactics, far from being resented, were so greatly admired by the belligerent Fuehrer that even today few Hitler speeches on general Nazi policy in Eastern Europe omit a friendly reference to the late Polish dictator. Often has the Pilsudski method been suggested as Lesson 1-A for other powers dealing with Nazi Germany.

When Marshal Pilsudski died in 1935 the three most important heirs to his power were aging, cultured President Ignacy Moscicki, former professor of electrochemistry at Lwow Polytechnic School; General Edward Smigly-Rydz, Inspector General of the Polish Armed Forces (job held by Pilsudski); and Lieutenant Colonel Josef Beck, the Foreign Minister.

Of these, President Moscicki, under the Polish Constitution, theoretically holds most power. Because in his job he represents the politically powerful Army, however, Marshal Smigly-Rydz has become by far the strongest figure in post-Pilsudski Polish domestic affairs. But Colonel Beck was the old Marshal's most intimate friend. As Foreign Minister he had been personally schooled in what the Marshal thought the "principles" of Polish foreign policy should be. On his deathbed Marshal Pilsudski received only one of his ministers, Colonel Beck. And since young Poland's survival must inevitably depend upon how well her foreign rather than her domestic affairs are conducted, it was Colonel Beck who became the "guardian of Pilsudski's testament"--an unwritten but nevertheless precise outline of Polish foreign policy--and hence the key figure in Polish if not Eastern European politics.

Eggs, Baskets, Bets. Last week the "guardian" was playing the Pilsudski game for all it was worth. Having recently visited Fuehrer Hitler at Berchtesgaden, entertained German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop at Warsaw and signed a commercial treaty and reaffirmed a non-aggression pact with Soviet Russia, Colonel Beck played host to Italian Foreign Minister, Count Galeazzo Ciano. It was reported that Colonel Beck lent an interested ear to Count Ciano's talk about Italy's colonial "aspirations" (at the expense of France) in the Mediterranean. Some diplomatic correspondents even reported that Italy was ready to cut Poland in for some of France's colonies, probably Madagascar, where anti-Semitic Poland might send some of her 3,200,000 Jews, which she wants no more than Germany wants hers. That shrewd Colonel Beck was not putting all his diplomatic eggs in the Italian basket, however, was evident from his announcement that he would go this month to London, where he will meet, besides British statesmen, French Foreign Minister Georges Bonnet. At the same time there was talk of a $50,000,000 British commercial loan to Poland. A diplomat of less cunning--like, for instance, Eduard Benes, who put all Czechoslovakia's eggs in the democracies' basket and got them smashed--would long ago have steered his country into all kinds of trouble.

Greatest single Polish worry is the fear that some day the Reichswehr and the Red Army will choose Poland as a battlefield (see map, p. 17). For Poland a Russo-German war would be an unmitigated tragedy, but almost as ominous would be a real Russo-German friendship. Not easily forgotten by Poles is the fact that a friendly Prussia, Russia and Austria helped themselves to generous slices of Poland in 1772 and 1793, swallowed the country completely in 1795-96. Although Napoleon briefly resuscitated the Duchy of Warsaw in 1807, the country did not regain real independence until after the World War when, by grants from Versailles, plebiscites and seizures on its own initiative, it was pieced together from parts of Germany, Russia, Austria, Lithuania.

What Colonel Beck would regard as an ideal state of affairs is an Eastern Europe in which the Soviet Union and Germany were continually mad at but not fighting each other. A cynical and unscrupulous latter-day Talleyrand, Colonel Beck believes in playing all horses at one time, but putting no great amount of money on any one. The "ironclad" alliance with France is still theoretically good, but so are the German and Russian non-aggression treaties. In a Franco-German war one of them would have to be broken, but that does not trouble the conscience of Colonel Beck. He plays the field. For instance, last September he strung along with the Rome-Berlin axis in the Czechoslovak rape. However, he kept a small bet on the democracies by declining to sign the anti-Comintern pact.

Basic reason for Poland's adventitious foreign policy is to be found not only in its geographical situation but also in its internal socio-political structure. Poland is neither a small nor a large nation. With a population of only 34,000,000, with a coastline of only 75 miles, with undeveloped industries and with its economy predominantly agricultural, it can scarcely convince Europe that it is a great power. At the same time it is not so weak as to become a natural pawn for one of Europe's ideological combinations.

Only in the peculiar internal political structure of Poland is it possible today for such a coldblooded, unscrupulous, calculating diplomat as Colonel Beck to get away with his fast & loose international dealings. Even in modern dictatorships a Fuehrer or a Duce must sell his people on accepting his judgments on foreign relations. In a democracy a Foreign Minister is at the political mercy of public opinion. But in Poland Colonel Beck is under neither handicap and the reason is that Poland is neither a dictatorship nor a democracy.

Some measure of free speech exists in Poland and most of the time the Government tolerates an opposition press. The right of assembly cannot be said to be denied. All Poles over 24 vote for the Sejm, lower house of Parliament, and, most paradoxical for a semi-dictatorship, there are cities in Poland which have Socialist mayors and councils.

But national elections to the Polish Sejm are run uniquely. The candidates are limited to those favored by the oligarchy of Polish rulers who control the landowning, manufacturing, cultural and military groups that do the nominating. The Government never has to worry much about its majority in the Sejm. Nor does it have to report some of its most important decisions to the "people's representatives." Colonel Beck once a year makes a "courtesy" speech on foreign affairs before Parliament, but he is careful not to give away any secrets to listening foreign diplomats.

Tall, lean, smartly dressed, wearing his hat rakishly on the back of his head, solemn and almost macabre in appearance, Colonel Beck is probably the most unpopular of big Polish politicians. But political unpopularity matters little in Poland. One Pole out of five is illiterate. Communications are comparatively undeveloped, public opinion slow to form. The peasantry in many parts of the country spend most of their time and interest on trying to get enough to eat to keep alive.

Legionnaire. Born in Galicia in 1894 of a family which originally came from Flanders, Colonel Beck received his early education in Cracow, old capital of Poland, burial place of Polish kings and heart of the old Austrian part of the country.* He was attending the Academy of Commerce in Vienna when the War broke out, left school immediately and joined up with the Polish Legion organized by Pilsudski to fight on the side of the Austrians against the Russians. Idea of the Polish Legion was that the greatest part of Poland was held by Russia and therefore Russia was temporarily the greatest enemy. However, the Legion had so little interest in fighting for the glory of Emperor Franz Josef's reign that it was soon interned, to be released only with the War's conclusion.

After Poland's declaration of independence in 1918, young Beck became a captain, then a major, in the new Polish Army. He was one of the first selected by Marshal Pilsudski for the new Polish Military Staff College. In the war with Soviet Russia in 1920, when Soviet forces under the late Marshal Mikhail Tukhachavsky pursued the Polish Army to the gates of Warsaw, the young officer was first a colonel of horse artillery, then commander on the Lithuanian-White Russian frontier. Later he became military attache in Paris. That period in Colonel Beck's career was ended abruptly by the French, who asked him to leave. Stories differ on why the French disliked the Colonel. One report was that the Colonel was too curious about French military secrets; another connected his name with that of a German blonde who was also a spy. One thing is certain: the French still can't stand Colonel Beck.

Usually dour and uncommunicative, the Colonel leads a quiet life in Warsaw, lives in new quarters adjoining the Foreign Office, dines about once a week at the swanky Europejski Cafe, is a steady drinker. The lovely Mme Beck entertains diplomats once monthly -- on the 17th. Both Colonel and Mme Beck were married once before, both were divorced. Because they are susceptible to bronchitis, they usually spend several weeks annually on the sunny French Riviera. Last week the Becks and the Cianos were weekending on a gay hunting party in Bialowieza, Europe's largest forest. The Colonel is known to have an aversion to hunting.

Poles, Dogs, Germans, Italians. Not bound by the hampering views of an intelligent electorate, the Polish oligarchy does about what it pleases, and while this may make trouble for the electorate, it also gives Poland's dictatorial neighbors pause. It is part of Germany's push-to-the-east program to unite all the Ukrainians. But autonomist movements among the 3,200,000* Ukrainians in the southeast of Poland can be and have been suppressed by Warsaw with little regard for civil rights.

Early in new Poland's life most of the Germans who formerly lived in the Corridor were determinedly eased out and Poles eased in. The Corridor thus became one of the most Polish parts of the country and Germany was robbed of any issue of "self-determination of peoples" there. Last autumn, when Germany rounded up 20,000 Polish Jews and sent them on their way back to Poland, tough and oligarchic Poland retaliated overnight by rounding up a few thousand Germans. Nazi Germany promptly "mediated" the differences. Not only does Poland run its show at home with brutal efficiency, but it has an Army that would fight at the drop of a hat, and that gives Germany something else to think about. The Polish Army would now be no match for the Reichswehr, but at least it could rob Fuehrer Hitler of another of his bloodless conquests. Moreover, Poland has an air force of 1,500 planes, and Poles are fond of saying that while Berlin is only 80 miles from the Polish border, Warsaw is 170 from West Prussia.

Noteworthy it is that while the port of Danzig, established under the League of Nations at the end of the World War as a free city with a Polish customs union, has been actually ruled by the local Nazis for three years, Germany has not yet found it "convenient" formally to annex the Free City. Poland has a flourishing port now of its own at Gdynia, but the Poles have nevertheless insisted that Danzig respect the internationally guaranteed Polish rights.

Last week there was more Danzig trouble. At the Technical Institute in Danzig German students hung the sign: "POLES AND DOGS NOT ADMITTED." The Polish students' home was raided by Nazi gangs. The reaction was violent and sustained. At Poznan, Polish students retaliated by stoning a German library. At Warsaw 1,000 students paraded, shouted "Down with Germany!", made their way to the German Embassy on Pius XI Street and broke several windows. Even after Count Ciano arrived the anti-German demonstrations continued, and there were shouts of "Down with the Rome-Berlin axis!"

What public opinion there is in Poland is undoubtedly strongly anti-German and pro-French. No love has ever been lost between Pole and Teuton, who have fought no less than 60 wars in the last 1,000 years. The student demonstrations could have been, and probably were, genuine outpourings of indignation. But suspicious correspondents had their own ideas of why they were not quickly and effectively suppressed. They suspected that Colonel Beck, now entertaining the Foreign Minister of one of the axis powers, looked not unfavorably upon riots against the other power in the hope that they might persuade Britain and France that Poland is still worth lending money to. While few of Europe's statesmen like Colonel Beck and absolutely none trust him, no seasoned diplomat of Europe's hard-boiled chancelleries can fail to admire him. In his own way, he does his job superbly well.

-If the mass of patriotic Poles had had to choose before the War between their Russian, German and Austrian masters, they would have undoubtedly chosen the Austrians. In Polish Austria, Poles had considerable autonomy. Poles were allowed to enter the Austrian Civil Service, had Polish schools and law courts. Under German rule few Poles held public jobs and under the Tsar many a Polish patriot (like Pilsudski) spent long, hard winters in Siberian exile.

Ukrainians claim that they number 6,000,000 in Poland.

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