Paris 1919 - Margaret Macmillan [44]
Although the Allies had a number of economic agencies, supervised loosely by the Supreme Economic Council, Hoover’s food and relief section was by far the most effective. With $100 million from the United States and about $62 million from Britain, he established offices in thirty-two countries, opened soup kitchens that fed millions of children, and moved tons of food, clothes and medical supplies into the hardest-hit areas. By the spring of 1919, Hoover’s organization was running railways and supervising mines. It had its own telegraph network. It waged war on lice, with thousands of hair clippers, tons of soap, special baths and stations manned by American soldiers. Travelers who did not have a “deloused” certificate were seized and disinfected. In the summer of 1919 Hoover infuriated the Europeans yet again. He argued that the United States had done enough; it was now up to the Europeans. With hard work, austerity and savings they should be all right. His views met with approval in an increasingly isolationist Washington, and American aid and loans fell off sharply.21
In fact, it took Europe until 1925 to get back to prewar levels of production; in some areas, recovery was much slower. Many governments resorted to such measures as borrowing, budget deficits and trade controls to keep their countries afloat. Europe’s economy as a whole remained fragile, adding to political strains at home in the 1920s and tensions abroad as governments turned to protectionist measures. Perhaps with American money and European cooperation a stronger Europe could have been built, more able to resist the challenges of the 1930s.22
6
Russia
ON JANUARY 18, 1919, the Peace Conference officially opened. Clemenceau made sure that the opening took place on the anniversary of the coronation in 1871 of Wilhelm I as kaiser of the new Germany. To the delegates assembled in the sumptuous Salle d’Horloge at the Quai d’Orsay, President Poincaré spoke of the wickedness of their enemies, the great sacrifices of the Allies and the hopes for a lasting peace. “You hold in your hands,” he told them, “the future of the world.” As they walked out, Balfour turned to Clemenceau and apologized for his top hat. “I was told,” he said, “that it was obligatory to wear one.” “So,” replied Clemenceau, in his bowler, “was I.”1
Observers noticed some absences: the Greek prime minister, Venizelos, annoyed that Serbia had more delegates than his own country; Borden, the Canadian prime minister, offended that the prime minister of little Newfoundland had been given precedence; and the Japanese, who had not yet arrived. But the most striking absence of all was that of Russia.
An Ally in 1914, Russia had probably saved France from defeat when it attacked Germany on the Eastern Front. For three years, Russia had battled the Central Powers, inflicting huge losses but absorbing even more. In 1917 it had finally cracked under the strain and, in eight months, had gone from autocracy to liberal democracy to a revolutionary dictatorship under a tiny extreme faction of Russian socialists, the Bolsheviks, whom most people, including the Russians themselves, had never heard of. As Russia collapsed, it spun off parts of a great empire: the Baltic states, Ukraine, Armenia, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Daghestan. The Allies had sent in troops in a vain attempt to bolster their disintegrating ally against the Germans, but at the start of 1918 the Bolsheviks made peace with Germany. The Allied soldiers remained on Russian soil, but to do what? Topple the Bolsheviks and their Soviet regime? Support their heterogeneous opponents, the royalists, liberals, anarchists, disillusioned socialists, nationalists of various sorts?
In Paris it was not easy to tell what was happening in the east or who was on which side. Stories drifted westward of a social order turned upside down, civil wars, nationalist