London, April 1

In recent months German-Jewish, and German-Israeli, relations have become almost inextricably entangled in wider issues: they can no longer be explained without constant reference to German domestic and foreign policy, to the Middle Eastern conflict, and indeed to East-West relations in general. The roots of the present situation—which may be described as a confluence of several different crises—are embedded in events that took place in the early 50's. The first important milestone in German-Israeli relations after the war was the restitution agreement signed in Luxemburg in September 1952, under which the Adenauer government promised to supply Israel with goods to the value of about one billion dollars over a period of thirteen years (the last shipment has only just been made). Because of the widespread feeling in Israel that accepting “blood money” from those who had been instrumental in killing one-third of the Jewish people was an act of criminal indecency, a gross insult to the memory of the victims, it was only by a tiny majority that the Knesset empowered the government to enter into negotiations with the West Germans about restitution. At the same time, Moshe Sharett, then Prime Minister, made it absolutely clear that the recognition of Germany was out of the question.

Adenauer's government, too, was under some pressure; at one stage (on November 8, 1952) it received an ultimatum from the Arab League warning that unless the restitution agreement was shelved within forty-eight hours, the Arab countries would institute a total economic boycott against Germany. The ultimatum was ignored, whereupon the Arabs put forward another demand: they, too, wanted reparations from Germany—about a billion dollars over ten years. Some German industrialists were very apprehensive, but unnecessarily, as it later appeared. Despite the restitution agreement with Israel, Germany's trade with Egypt and Syria doubled within the following decade, and with Iraq and Jordan it quadrupled.

Even after the restitution agreement had been signed, relations between Israel and Germany were restricted to the minimum: for years Israeli passports were stamped “Not valid for travel in Germany.” Gradually, however, a change set in, though for a long time it was more pronounced in official circles than among the general public. Those responsible for Israeli defense were the first to realize that, however horrible the recent past, the new state had to devote all its efforts to countering the immediate menace to its existence which came from the neighboring Arab countries. And the threat became even greater after the massive Soviet arms deliveries to Egypt got under way in 1955. Israel urgently needed help if it was to survive—and there was no surfeit of potential helpers.

The Germans are a methodical people; they had engineered the “final solution” in a systematic way, and now they set out to deliver the goods to Israel in an equally systematic manner. The ships laden with German capital goods began to call at Haifa regularly and unfailingly, becoming an important—ultimately a decisive—factor in the building up of the country. Today the Israeli fleet is almost entirely “made in Germany,” as are its modern railway equipment, the big steel foundry near Acre, and many other enterprises. During the 50's and early 60's, about one-third of investment goods imported into Israel came from Germany. Trade between the two countries also increased, and West Germany now takes third place in Israeli foreign trade (immediately after the United States and Britain). In addition to all this, many individual Israelis received restitution privately.

Gradually restrictions on Israeli travel to Germany were abolished; what was probably more significant, German visitors were soon arriving in Israel. At first, these were individual Germans who had helped Jews during the war or were of some other outstanding merit from the Jewish point of view. But it was not long before the politicians also began coming—Heuss and Dehler, Gersten-mayer and even Franz Josef Strauss—as well as German scientists and churchmen, trade unionists and young people, many thousands of them, eager to see the kibbutzim, the Dead Sea, and Eilat. German-language books swamped the Tel Aviv and Jerusalem bookshops; the film censorship board was somewhat more reluctant, but if it balked at German movies, it had no such qualms about those made in Austria.

At the time of the Luxemburg agreement in 1952, Adenauer had suggested an exchange of ambassadors, but Israel had declined. Four years later the situation had completely changed. Germany was now much stronger and Israel needed political as well as economic assistance. In March 1956 Israel indicated that, while it could not take the initiative in establishing diplomatic relations, a West German approach would be welcomed. When the news got around, Nasser declared that he would immediately recognize East Germany in retaliation, and the West German government hastily retreated.

This pattern was to repeat itself countless times in the next nine years; nor did a half-hearted attempt by the late John Foster Dulles to bring Germany and Israel together meet with success. Inside Germany there was considerable pressure for the normalization of relations with Israel, but the foreign ministry, supported by the Bonn coalition parties, was strongly opposed; privately it was explained that the tense situation in the Middle East would only be aggravated by a “hasty decision.” But the real reason was, of course, the Hall-stein doctrine, according to which West Germany, and West Germany alone, is the legitimate spokesman for all Germany. Bonn made it known that it would break off relations with any country that recognized Communist East Germany, regarding it as an unfriendly act calculated to deepen the division of Germany. There was, not surprisingly, one exception to this rule—Moscow. But Bonn refused to make diplomatic contact with the other East European countries or China, and it broke off relations with Yugoslavia and Cuba when these recognized the Ulbricht regime.

The Hallstein doctrine undoubtedly helped to slow down international recognition of that regime, but gradually it became a trap for those who had invented it. West Germany laid itself open to every kind of political and economic blackmail. The doctrine made it possible for almost any Asian or African country to get grants or gifts from Bonn, simply by indicating that it might recognize Pankow. (A few months ago, for example, the Syrian Prime Minister virtually gave an order to the Germans to underwrite the cost of the Euphrates dam, a giant construction project.) The whole matter has become largely farcical because quite a few Arab, Asian, and African countries have close relations with East Germany anyway; there are, for instance, East German Consuls-General in Cairo and Baghdad, in Rangoon and Colombo, who have the personal status of ambassadors—but may not display their country's flag on their official cars. In addition, many leading East German personalities have already paid official visits to these countries. But the principle of the Hallstein doctrine was at stake and the Germans were unable to find a way out of a prison they had erected themselves.

_____________

II

The attitudes underlying German-Israeli relations have been complex on both sides. So far as Israel is concerned, it would have been surprising, not to say unnatural, if the former inmates of extermination camps now living in Israel, along with many other victims of the crimes committed by Germans, had not followed developments in Germany after 1945 with the gravest misgivings. Germany had once more become a strong power with a fairly sizable army of its own. What guarantee was there that Hitler's successors would not again emerge as the masters of Europe? What about the constant reports of a resurgence of neo-Nazism in the Bundesrepublik? What about the ex-Nazis in high places and the acquittal of those who had murdered thousands of Jews? Was it not obvious that the German national character was unlikely to change? If other nations had a short memory, these Jews were not likely to forget “what Amalek did to thee.” There were many who decided never to set foot on German soil again, and who bitterly opposed the new ties between Israel and the Bundesrepublik. Their reading of recent developments in Germany might have been wrong; there probably was (as Ben Gurion stressed) a streak of racialism in it. But Staatsraison—even in a case like this, where Germany was willing and able to supply Israel free of charge with the arms it so urgently needed—hardly ever affects the emotions and reasoning of ordinary people; theirs was a natural reaction to the terrible holocaust in which a third of the Jewish people had perished.

Yet there is more than one public opinion in Israel, and for a German observer the conflicting Israeli attitudes must have been a cause of considerable bewilderment. On the one hand, there was undisguised enmity, likely to culminate any moment in a “Hate Germany” campaign; on the other, there were those thousands of Israelis who applied for German citizenship (because the Israeli passport was a much less convenient and useful travel document). There were the thousands who actually did return, to participate in the Wirtschaftswunder or to enjoy their restitution payments at a more favorable rate. There were the hundreds of Israeli students at German universities, the research workers and professors, the musicians, painters, and poets, the businessmen, consultants, ex-army officers, and detectives who had taken up permanent residence in West Germany. The emergence of Jewish communities in Germany after all that had happened seemed unacceptable to many. But at the same time West Germany became the second most promising hunting ground (after the United States) for all those official and unofficial emissaries, often self-appointed, trying to raise money for schools, hospitals, synagogues, and other, sometimes spurious, activities in Israel. Between the proponents of a full boycott and those who practiced full fraternization, Israeli attitudes toward Germany have ranged over the whole spectrum.

German attitudes to Israel have been similarly complex. The press and public have been sympathetic toward Israel; even third-rate Israeli writers, artists, and other such visitors could count on a receptive hearing. A whole library of Israeliana (including a great deal of rubbish) has been turned out during the last decade. For years it was very fashionable to go to a kibbutz, and many German students have applied for a year's stay or longer at the Hebrew University. But Germany, too, has more than one public opinion; it is doubtful whether and to what extent the friendly press comments ever represented the German pays réel. In right-wing circles there were always complaints that the Jews were “insatiable” in their demands, and assertions that there was a limit to Germany's obligations. There was also some sympathy for Nasser even when he put the pressure on Bonn. The line taken by Giselher Wirsing, the editor of the influential Protestant weekly, Christ und Welt, is representative of an important sector of German opinion. A traditional nationalist, easily captivated 60's), Herr Wirsing is no doubt genuinely conby strong men (Hitler in the 30's, Nasser in the vinced that relations between Bonn and Cairo are more important than Germany's ties with Jerusalem. In one of his recent editorials, he predicted that Germany would suffer another “Stalingrad on the Nile” unless it changed its attitude toward the Arabs. Wirsing has an unfortunate political past to live down, but similar views are, after all, voiced from time to time by diplomatic and political commentators who were not associated in the past with Hitler and Goebbels. The Arab propagandists, too, have been at work in Bonn. Some of them are extremely able, but on the whole they have not been very successful over the last decade: they did manage to induce some of the biggest electrical firms (such as Telefunken and AEG) not to trade with Israel, but otherwise they have no startling achievements to their credit.

_____________

III

The philo-Semitism prevalent in the press, the radio, and some official circles has been put to a severe strain in recent weeks when even philo-Semites began saying that Israeli demands were excessive and that, twenty years after the end of the war, a line should be drawn. Die Zeit, the leading left-wing liberal weekly, reminded its readers that the Bundesrepublik had paid Israel about $750 million, individual Jews about $4.5 billion, and the claims conference about $125 million. Was it really fair, in view of these huge sums, to argue that West Germany was “morally bankrupt” because it had just proposed to pay Israel $25 million in cash rather than supplying arms for that sum?

The story behind this particular aspect of the crisis in Israeli-German relations goes back to 1962, when Shimon Peres, director general of the Israeli ministry of defense, concluded an agreement with the then West German defense minister, according to which Germany was to supply Israel with some $70 million worth of selected arms and equipment. This included 150 tanks, 50 airplanes, several helicopters, 2 submarines and some other naval craft. There was, on the part of the Germans, genuine willingness to help Israel, but there were also, no doubt, other motives. Bonn had not yet extended diplomatic recognition to Israel and the arms deal was seen as a form of compensation. Probably it was also meant to placate the Israelis who, for a long time, had been complaining about the activities of German rocket experts in Egypt which the Bonn government had been unable to stop—partly because it had no constitutional power to recall these men (some of whom had in any case adopted Egyptian citizenship) and partly because Washington did not want to see the Germans in Cairo replaced by Soviet scientists.

The sums and quantities Germany agreed to send Israel were not exactly staggering, even for a small country; Nasser, for instance, has in recent years received Soviet and Eastern bloc arms valued at between $750 million and $1 billion (including 1500 tanks, 500 planes, 45 torpedo boats, 1,000 ground-to-air rockets, etc.). Nor was the arms deal with Israel a unique departure for Germany—Bonn was already giving military aid to a number of Asian and African countries, including a few Arab ones like Sudan. What irked Nasser, understandably from his point of view, was the fact that Germany was supplying these arms to Israel very cheaply, some of them apparently at a nominal price, whereas Egypt had to mortgage its cotton crop to pay for its purchases from the Soviet Union (though there were bargains in that arms deal, too). From a purely military standpoint, the German-Israeli arms deal was of decisive importance neither for Israel nor to Nasser. But Nasser, convinced that of all the Western powers Germany was the one that could least afford to give comfort to his enemies—and probably also prodded by the Russians—decided to prepare for a trial of strength.

The great opportunity came early this year, when it was announced that Walter Ulbricht, the East German leader, would pay a state visit to Egypt. Bonn lodged emphatic protests and threatened to cut off economic aid if Egypt received the “arch enemy of German unity,” but Nasser refused to budge. Instead he went over to the counterattack. Bonn, he declared, had broken faith by supplying the Arabs' mortal foe with arms. He, Nasser, could very well do without help from Bonn—only the West Germans would suffer. Egypt, supported by all other Arab and North African countries, would immediately counter any further unfriendly West German action by extending diplomatic recognition to East Germany. Nasser's aim at that stage was primarily political, not military—85 per cent of the promised arms had already been delivered to Israel. What he wanted, as he subsequently explained in press interviews, was to isolate Israel, to torpedo the “German-Israeli alliance.”

Bonn was terror-stricken for a few weeks. German political leaders claimed they had never been told about the arms deal with Israel. There had been press reports, to be sure, but the matter had never come before parliament. The government immediately called a halt to deliveries, declaring that no more arms would be sent to “zones of tension”—as if arms would be needed anywhere but in “zones of tension.” There was a tremendous outcry in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, there were protests in London, demonstrations in New York. To appease Jewish public opinion, Prime Minister Erhard asked Prime Minister Eshkol to accept payment in cash for the outstanding 15 per cent of the deliveries. Eshkol refused and the protests continued.

The arms supplies had been stopped, but Nasser was not to be bought off so cheaply; he went ahead with preparations to receive Ulbricht. In the circumstances, Bonn felt that it had to cut off economic aid to Egypt, even if from a strictly legal point of view the Ulbricht visit was not the equivalent of full diplomatic recognition of the East German regime. Ulbricht landed in Alexandria and was welcomed very enthusiastically. Germany has had an excellent reputation in the Arab world for many decades because it was not a colonialist power, because it was anti-British, and because of Nazi policy toward the Jews. True, there had been some bad Germans like Adenauer, but Ulbricht, in Egyptian eyes, was a German in the right tradition, he was a “good German” (as a Guardian correspondent reported from Cairo). Ulbricht made the most of his visit, damning both imperialists and Israel; he was rewarded with the “collar of the Nile,” while on his wife was bestowed the “order of perfection.” To add a few pinpricks, the Egyptians arrested several West German residents, commercial agents, and the owner of a racing stable.

By now, Erhard was extremely angry indeed and wanted to cut off relations with Egypt altogether. But half of his cabinet—the foreign minister and the Free Democrats—opposed him. The American and British envoys also counseled moderation; as a compromise, it was decided to recognize Israel at long last. A Christian Democratic member of parliament was sent to Jerusalem to negotiate with the Israeli government while outcries of dismay and indignation went up in all Arab capitals. Many Arabs realized that Nasser had gone too far, seriously miscalculating the situation, but on the other hand they felt they had to back Egypt as a matter of pan-Arab solidarity. Bonn was not particularly worried by Nasser's threat not to pay back the $225 million he owed the Germans; but there was apprehension, much of it no doubt exaggerated, over the political implications. Most of the editorials in the German press favored a tough line toward Cairo, but most of the letters from readers pleaded for understanding of Nasser: after all, Israel was as much a thorn in the flesh of the Arabs as East Germany was to the Bonn regime. Meanwhile, the head of the Syrian junta declared that the Arabs would have to do something about Israel fairly soon; in four or five years it would be too late, because by that time there would be a state of missile parity.

Whether there will be war or (relative) peace in the Middle East now depends mainly on whether, and to what extent, Lebanon and Syria will go ahead with their plans to divert the waters of the Jordan. The summer of 1965 may indeed be (as Nasser has predicted) a very hot one in the Middle East, but the many factors involved make political speculation a risky pastime. The course of German policy, on the other hand, seems to be set. Short of some last minute hitch, ambassadors will be exchanged between Israel and the Bundesrepablik some time in May—whereupon most Arab governments will probably withdraw their envoys from Bonn. Some will extend full diplomatic recognition to East Germany, others will merely utter threatening noises.¹ If all goes well the Arab envoys will be back in the West German capital by 1966. When Nasser began to realize that he had overreached himself, his anger turned against those Arab countries that were not willing to follow him all the way. They, not Germany and Israel, may well become the main victims of Egyptian political warfare in coming months.

_____________

IV

German experience in the Middle East shows, not exactly for the first time in history, the dangers of exposing oneself to blackmail. Such situations may be inevitable from time to time and they have to be faced with a great deal of resolution. Germany, admittedly, was operating from a position of weakness, but so was Nasser, most of whose successes have been achieved not by Egypt's political or military strength, but by first-rate bluffing.

The cardinal error, from the German point of view, was in not extending diplomatic recognition to Israel between 1956 and 1960. Nasser would certainly have protested, he would have threatened, demanding loans or gifts in return, but eventually he would have put up with it. Bonn, however, did not want to take any risk and thus gave Nasser a veto on its Israeli policy, which caused great and growing complications. Some of the blame must be laid to ex-Chancellor Adenauer, whose hesitations helped create a problem which should never have arisen. Even so, Adenauer would have been better qualified to deal with Nasser than his successor, precisely because he was “the strong man” and, as such, respected in Cairo. Nasser knew that with Adenauer he could go so far and no further; his attitude toward the new men in Bonn was different. For among Adenauer's successors the idea prevailed that a more elastic foreign policy was needed; Germany had to be friends with the whole world. At the same time there was a great deal of internal intrigue and rivalry among the higher echelons in Bonn. The result was confusion and weakness in both foreign and domestic affairs.

Economically, Germany does not stand to lose much from a break with Nasser: exchanges between Germany and all eleven Arab countries amount only to about 3 per cent of Germany's foreign trade. In the long run, considering Egypt's economic prospects, German investments and property are almost certain to be lost anyway, and the long-term loan will never be repaid. A break with Egypt would, in fact, be a great blessing, but this, of course, is not the way individual German businessmen see it. Their profits are guaranteed by the state, i.e., the taxpayer.

Politically it should have been clear that the Hallstein doctrine had to be jettisoned immediately if it could be maintained only by violating treaty obligations at the cost of great public humiliation and an admission of extreme weakness. (Privately, many German politicians would agree, but no one knows how to cut this Gordian knot.)

_____________

In the wake of the Nasser affair, there was much soul searching and even more resentment in West Germany. Reactions cut across party lines, except for the Free Democrats who do not “want their policy dictated by Washington and Tel Aviv.” There was a minority which said that Germany had a moral obligation to stand by Israel, that nothing was to be gained by appeasing dictators, and that Nasser was, in any case, anti-Western and should not be rewarded by concessions. But the majority thought that Israel should not have gotten arms in the first place. Israel ought to be given maximum assistance, but not beyond the point where such help might jeopardize vital German national interests (i.e., reunification). There was also much resentment against the Western allies who had encouraged Germany to deliver arms to Israel because they did not want to endanger their own good relations with Egypt; now they were reluctant to give Bonn even a minimum of support. These rebukes included the French who were, admittedly, in an indecent and wholly misguided hurry to replace Bonn on the Egyptian market. There was much resentment against Israel—how could the Jews be so ungrateful after all that had been done for them! Figures and statistics and delivery quotas were cited, which proved, if anything, only that the Jewish property in Germany looted by the Nazis, or at least much of it, had been restored to its owners or their heirs—hardly an occasion for public self-congratulation on the part of the Germans. There were even well-meant warnings that anti-Semitism would increase in Germany if the Jews were going to show so little understanding of Germany's difficulties (as if a recurrence of anti-Semitism in Germany would harm anyone but the Germans).

Pusillanimous as the German performance was in the early stages of the affair, much of the responsibility lies with the Western allies, in particular the United States and Britain. Germany is not a major producer of arms; if Israel made an arms deal with Bonn, it was mainly because of American and British reluctance (or even refusal) to give arms to Israel themselves. In the circumstances, the protests of American Jewish War Veterans or of the British Board of Deputies—not to mention those who declared a private boycott on German goods—though well meant, were at least partly misplaced. It is more awkward to protest against one's own government than against the Germans, but there is no denying that the British record of support for Israeli defense has been less impressive than the German. Britain has delivered a lot of weapons to Arab countries in recent years, but hardly anything at all to Israel, except for two old submarines (for which, incidentally, the West Germans paid part of the cost). Washington has reluctantly given some arms to Israel, but only a fraction of what Egypt has received from the Eastern bloc. Western reaction was as confused and uncoordinated as Germany's; there should have been a certain division of labor in the provision of help for Israel against the Egyptian-Soviet build-up, but there was none.

Jewish and Israeli reaction to the German decision to stop the arms deliveries to “zones of tension” was expectedly violent, but it was perhaps out of proportion. The arms still to be supplied by Germany were not of the most modern and sophisticated kind, and could be obtained for hard cash from some other European nations on a strictly commercial basis. But in Israeli eyes this was a matter of principle: one of the most influential European countries had given in easily to Egyptian pressure, and it was the very country that had the greatest obligation of all to stand by Israel—even when it hurt. (Restitution had not been particularly painful.) Out of proportion or not, however, the Israeli reaction had an impact. President Johnson sent Averill Harriman to Jerusalem and there were high-level talks in other places. At the same time there was a demand in Israel and among Jews elsewhere for a re-examination of relations with Germany. There were articles and letters in the Jewish press, meetings, demonstrations, and resolutions, and those who asked for a basic revision denied any essential difference between the “new Germany” and the Third Reich. A letter to one of the Israeli papers declared that the Ben Gurion -Peres-Dayan line of a new Germany had helped to bring about the psychological disarmament of the Jews. It had been wrong to take reparations from Germany; it had been wrong to submerge Jewish dignity under Realpolitik: “Our ancestors, in their attitude to post-Inquisition Spain, showed more dignity and self-respect than some of us show to post-Hitler Germany.”

These were not, and probably were not meant to be, rational comments on the problem; but what happened to the Jews in German-occupied Europe could not be explained in rational terms either. Nevertheless, such comments do show that a fair number of Jews (including quite a few Zionists) are reluctant to accept the implications of Jewish statehood. The suggestion that the Jewish state could and should have reacted as the Spanish Jews did after 1492 would no doubt have appealed to a romantic like Daniel Deronda. But statesmen who carry the responsibility for the security of their country have more urgent things to worry about than dignified gestures. It is not difficult to dismiss considerations of Realpolitik from Swiss Cottage or Greenwich Village or other places outside the range of Nasser's missiles. Even some Israelis may argue that a Jewish state which can defend itself against its enemies and safeguard its survival only with the help of the Germans, has no moral justification and might as well disappear. Of the opponents of Realpolitik, few are willing to draw these consequences; most have some easy solution to offer that would both make German assistance unnecessary and safeguard Israeli security. These suggestions cover a wide range but they all lack realism and responsibility; they are not serious alternatives. The choices for those who do not abdicate responsibility have been much narrower all along.

_____________

V

The political, military, and economic importance of the Middle East has been overrated in the West for a long time, but there is no question that in certain circumstances and for a limited time the Middle East may again become one of the world's major trouble zones. Some Arab leaders have been hard at work to create precisely such a situation on the assumption (and it is a correct one) that unless there is a major crisis not enough dollars and rubles will come into the area. For a decade now, Nasser has shown great mastery in playing on the largely misplaced fears of the powers, especially in the West, and the story of German-Israeli relations in recent months would be incomplete without a fuller account of his role in the total situation.

The plain fact is that Egypt is now facing bankruptcy. Since Egyptian industry is largely dependent on imports of raw materials and semi-finished products, and since there is a severe shortage of foreign currency, about one-quarter of the country's factories have either had to shut down or curtail production drastically. At the same time (though for different reasons), meat and vegetables have largely disappeared from the shops of Cairo and Alexandria.

Nations, of course, do not cease to exist even if they are hopelessly insolvent. There are, however, degrees of bankruptcy. Like Egypt, Syria and Iraq are poor countries, but the long-term outlook there—granted a minimum of efficient government—is much better, for the simple reason that these are potentially rich countries with untapped resources, and Egypt is not. There are countries in Asia and Africa even poorer than Egypt, but nowhere is there a more striking discrepancy between Gross National Product and political ambition, between zeal for work and will for power, between the expectations of the people and the possibility of satisfying them, than in Egypt. Were it not for the massive help it receives from America, Russia, and West Europe, Nasser's regime could not exist, all the rhetorical bombast notwithstanding. Egyptians would starve, industry would cease to function, and all development projects would have to be shelved.

Thus, to all intents and purposes, Egypt will be indefinitely dependent on support from other countries. This situation could change only if the Egyptian population explosion came to a halt, and if some unforeseen breakthrough were achieved—if, for instance, cheap nuclear energy were to become available for irrigating the desert. But since no such breakthrough is likely to take place in the near future, there is a great and growing temptation for Nasser to seek a solution to Egypt's difficulties outside its own borders. Nasser can claim with much more justice than Hitler did that his people are a “Volk ohne Raum,” that they need more room, but past experience—the war against Israel in 1956, the fighting in Yemen during the last two years, and the break-up of the union with Syria—has shown that a big and effective propaganda machine is not in itself enough to defeat other armies. So for almost a decade now Cairo has engaged in a very substantial armament program. Outside Heliopolis, a few miles east of Cairo, dozens of scientists have been busy perfecting “The Victor,” “The Conqueror,” “The Explorer”—one-and-two stage missiles with a range of up to over 600 miles. Exact figures are not available, but Egypt is believed to be spending between five-hundred million and a billion dollars a year on armaments and other military purposes, representing from 7 to 12 per cent of the GNP, or twice to four times as much as the incomparably more affluent members of NATO spend.

Not surprisingly, Nasser has been sharply criticized for a policy which many Western observers believe has brought his country to the brink of ruin. Even the Russians, who, after all, have provided the bulk of Egypt's armaments during the last decade, now feel uneasy about these developments. A Soviet writer recently noted with regret, for example, that Egypt would have made greater economic progress if so large a part of its budgetary resources had not been diverted to military ends:

In recent years, the UAR has been spending on the requirements of defense and internal security, roughly as much as the total capital invested in the development of industry and power, and considerably more than on education, health, and social services taken together.

All this is quite correct, and yet I find myself in the unaccustomed role of having to defend Nasser against some of his critics. Unless he decides to give up all his political ambitions, what other course is open to him? In his eyes, these military expenses are not unproductive, but likely to yield political and economic profits at some future stage. The same goes for his enormous expenditures on propaganda and subversion abroad—the dozens of big conferences, the lavish state receptions, the bakshish paid out to Egyptian agents and friendly politicians all over Africa, the Middle East and, to a lesser extent, Asia and Europe.

Not that orthodox economic doctrine could offer much comfort to Egypt anyway. Would Nasser have received hundreds of millions from Washington had he not created the impression that Egypt was somehow an important country, had he not constantly engaged in anti-Western activities, demonstrating his nuisance value, showing that he was dangerous and had to be bought off at a high price? Nasser's dilemma contains elements of real tragedy which are not usually recognized in the West. Personally incorrupt and as efficient a ruler as Egypt could possibly hope for, he has taken the country through a genuine social and political revolution. The great landowners and industrialists, the pashas and the Levantines have disappeared; land has been redistributed, many new industries developed, and the Aswan Dam may be completed in a few years. Similar achievements in countries like Syria and Iraq would be of great and lasting importance. Egypt, however, is too poor to effect a real “takeoff.” Above all, there is that population explosion: every single minute of the day a new Egyptian is born. Labor productivity has remained low: the Egyptians are willing to applaud Nasser at mass meetings, but they show little enthusiasm at work. The steel industry and the other new factories that have been built produce goods which are shoddy and cannot be exported because the high cost of. production prevents them from competing with goods from other countries. Nasser's regime has put a ceiling on high incomes, and in theory far more people in Egypt can now afford the good things in life—but there are no good things to buy. A new class has come into being—the officers, the NCO's, and the higher echelons of the bureaucracy. They demand apartments and houses, cars, refrigerators, and washing machines, nice clothes for their wives. But the government cannot deliver the goods, nor can it make any decisive contribution toward raising the standard of living of the rest of the population. Instead of slowly catching up, Egypt is steadily falling further behind the advanced nations.

Nevertheless, a fairly strong case for Nasser could be constructed. He has tried hard, and if he has made mistakes it is unlikely that anyone else would have done better. If a country is very poor, neither capitalism nor Communism seems to work. The economic and social outlook for Egypt is bleak; the country is living on borrowed money, and will soon be unable to pay the interest on its debts, let alone repay the principal. Further loans and grants are not enough; Nasser needs very substantial gifts to stay afloat. Only a short while ago, the Egyptian newspapers announced that in the not-too-distant future Egyptians would fly in their own private airplanes to enjoy a weekend on the Cote d'Azur or in Switzerland. Now there is mounting discontent at home and Nasser's political survival depends upon his ability to supply cars and apartments and refrigerators to the New Class. The economic advisers will tell him that retrenchment is needed all along the line, that Egypt has lived far beyond its means for too long, that it can no longer afford to create the illusion that it is a strong and important nation. For a military leader with tremendous ambitions, for a man who genuinely thinks he has a great mission to fulfill, there is only one way out of this crisis—expansion.

_____________

The first and obvious target for attack is Israel, that cancer in the body politic of the Arab nation which he has solemnly vowed to destroy so many times. He is probably right in assuming that no one would help Israel against an Egyptian attack provided the campaign were over in a few weeks. But Israel, he knows, is a hard nut to crack. Once war breaks out, missiles will be used and perhaps other weapons too. The Egyptian missiles were scheduled to be ready in 1966, but this is now doubted by many, and Nasser is not rash enough to take it for granted that Israel has no modern weapons apart from the Hawk ground-to-air missiles. Unless he can be absolutely certain that a surprise blow would damage Israel so irreparably that it would be unable to retaliate, such a blow could means the loss of Cairo, Alexandria, and perhaps other places as well.

While victory over Israel would greatly enhance Nasser's stature among the Arabs, it would not help him to solve the problem of the Egyptian economy, nor could Israel absorb Egypt's surplus population. Libya, needless to say, would be a much less risky target, and Nasser has had his eyes on it for some time, for the revenue from the 40 million tons of oil likely to be produced in the Fezzan this year would be a most welcome addition to the Egyptian treasury. Saudia and Kuwait are even more attractive, though attacking them would involve him in conflict with other Arab countries.

Nasser has waited patiently for a longer time than most observers thought he would; he has shown not only a perseverance rare among Arabs, but also fortitude in the face of setbacks. But pressure on him is mounting, and he may be driven into seeking a desperate remedy for Egypt's ills even though he is militarily not yet ready for any target more formidable than Libya. He probably has no masterplan, no blueprint, no timetable. But the inner logic of Egypt's situation is driving him in the direction of war—an attack on Israel, or an attempt to take over the oilwells of Arabia, or both. These eventualities may be retarded by a variety of circumstances, but it is difficult to see at present how they can be deflected altogether.

Western motives in extending economic aid to Nasser were those lying behind economic aid in general: the assumption was that Western security would best be furthered by helping other countries to maintain their independence and develop into self-supporting nations. Specifically, there was the fear that if the West did not help him, Nasser would turn to the East. In addition, it was claimed that, however hostile Nasser was to the West, anyone likely to replace him would be even worse. And lastly it was argued that the strong humanitarian impulses of American and other Western nations demanded that a desperately poor country like Egypt be helped.

Whatever validity the last argument may have, the others have none. Had Nasser not received a single dollar from the Western countries over the past ten years, he could not be more hostile in his approach to them than he is now; indeed, his attitude would probably be much friendlier. Nasser, to be sure, is not a Marxist-Leninist—nor is Sukarno—but there are many Communist regimes which are far more friendly toward the West than the UAR. The threat of full “Communism” is still taken somewhat too seriously in the West in this new age of polycentrism: Nasser has stated that his differences with Communism are “radical,” but in what way would the policy of a Marxist-Leninist regime in Egypt differ radically from the line followed by Nasser, apart perhaps from the fact that it might be somewhat less bellicose? Nor is there any ground for fearing that the Russians would be overjoyed to step in if the West were to stop financial aid to Egypt; Russia and the Eastern bloc ought to be vitally interested in the continuation of Western aid to Egypt. Aid to Cuba is said to be costing the Russians about a million dollars a day; Egypt would need a permanent subsidy considerably larger than that, and such a commitment would be an intolerable burden on the Soviet economy. It could perhaps be justified if there were any hope that the situation might improve, but Soviet economic planners must have realized by now that Egypt is a bottomless pit and that economically there will be no returns. At the same time there are, for the near future, limits to Nasser's rapprochement with the Soviet Union, whether he gets Western financial aid or not. His main ambition is to lead the neutralist countries and he cannot therefore be totally committed. (The long-term perspectives are much less reassuring.)

From a Western point of view these observations are of purely academic interest; it is probably too late to correct the mistakes that have been made. Washington's reaction to Nasser's recent invitation to the United States to jump into the lake was to postpone deciding whether Egypt should be given another $35 million in surplus food. Someone in authority in Washington apparently thought that $35 million worth of wheat and flour would have a greater effect than many hundreds of millions had in the past. This is, of course, a ridiculous idea, but the situation being what it is, it does not really matter one way or another. Nasser realizes that his orthodox methods of getting assistance (playing off West against East) are producing diminishing returns at a moment when increasing demands are being made on him. In other words, time is running out, and political and military means may soon be needed to solve Egypt's crisis. In March Nasser said in Assiut that he would enter Israel not on a red carpet but on a path of blood. The distance between words and deeds is greater in Egypt, probably, than in any other country. Perhaps it is only a manner of speaking, perhaps it is more than that. One does not envy the Israeli leaders who have to decide to what extent these threats have to be taken seriously—and who have to act accordingly.

_____________

VI

Nasser, Ulbricht, arms to Israel—there was enough explosive material here for any number of crises. Yet at the same time, by coincidence, the issue of the statute of limitations came up for decision, and the West German government exposed itself to further criticism by its inability to take a clear line for many months on the question of Nazi criminals. On March 10 a very long debate was held in the Bundestag on whether the May 8 deadline for the prosecution of Nazi crimes was to stand. A considerable majority voted to extend the deadline; the subsequent decision to extend the deadline to the end of 1969 was a compromise solution between the proponents of a ten years' extension and those who opposed any extension. Only two or three months before, the emergence of such a majority had seemed very unlikely indeed. What caused this shift in parliamentary opinion?

In some countries murder remains punishable however long the interval between the crime and the legal proceedings, but paragraph 67 of the German criminal code of 1871 provides for a statute of limitations which (in the case of murder) comes automatically into force after twenty years. The time limit is suspended only if during those twenty years proceedings have been opened. (It is not, therefore, correct, as some have argued, that Hitler and Bormann could have settled in peace in the Bundesrepublik if they had turned up in Germany after May 10. Nor is it true that the proceedings already opened against some 13,000 people would have been cancelled if the deadline had not been extended.)

So far there was general agreement, but from this point on there was a dreadful muddle. Long, learned, and inconclusive disputes were conducted between legal experts who failed to realize that this was a political, not a legal issue. Since there is no provision in the law books for the crimes committed under the Nazi regime, Nazis are prosecuted not for “war crimes” but for murder under the ordinary criminal code of 1871. A number of people in Germany, and more abroad, outraged by the idea that mass murderers should be allowed to go free, demanded that the statute of limitations be waived. Some—like the Christian Democrat, Dr. Benda, supported by about fifty members of his party—pressed for an extension from twenty to thirty years. Others contended that the twenty-year limit could not and should not be changed; they suggested, however, 1955 rather than 1945 as the starting point, since Germany did not have full jurisdiction immediately after the end of the War. This would have given another ten years to bring the criminals to justice.

The opponents of an extension argued that it would violate the German basic law (nulla poene sine lege—no punishment without law) and would in general conflict with the whole idea of constitutional government. True, parliament could modify the statute of limitations or perhaps even annul it, but it could not do so retroactively. In the view of many opponents of extension, nothing was more important than to restore respect for the law in a country where law was so flagrantly violated for so many years; it was essential to adhere to the letter of the law, even if a few criminals who had hitherto evaded detection might escape. Such arguments may be rejected as “legalistic deformations,” but it would be unjust to deny the bona fides of at least some of the proponents of this school of thought.

_____________

Many of those who opposed extension, however, were influenced by political calculation. The leaders of the Free Democrats, for instance, knew from various public-opinion polls that about 70 per cent of the population think there should be no more Auschwitz trials, and they intimated that their party would leave the government coalition if the statute of limitations were amended. (In the end they stayed in the coalition, but the Minister of Justice, a member of their party, resigned.) By thus championing what seemed to them a popular cause, they expected to improve their not very brilliant chances in the general elections later this year. This, of course, is not what they said in public. Their position was that only a very few criminals remain undetected, that they are by now old and wretched men who may have sincerely repented, and that it would be inhuman to pursue them to the end of their days.

This argument is demonstrably false. About 12,000 Nazi criminals have been brought to trial during the last fifteen years, but most of them were small fry, and some of the very biggest fish have not yet been netted. These include entire institutions, such as the Reichssicherheitshauptamt where Eichmann worked and of which the Gestapo was one part. Most of the “desk murderers” (Schreibtischmoerder) who ordered and supervised the execution of many thousands have not been touched so far, in marked contrast to the smalltown toughs who have been prosecuted with commendable zeal. Nor is it true that most of the criminals are now tottering and senile old men. One of the chief defendants in a recent SS mass murder trial was a man of forty-three, and many others are in their fifties.

There are considerable technical difficulties in bringing Nazi criminals to justice. For about a decade after 1945, German courts were forbidden to try German citizens for crimes committed against non-Germans. This was a necessary precaution taken by the Allies in the first postwar years. But as a result, the investigation of those who had engineered the final solution in Eastern Europe got under way only in the late 50's. Outsiders usually underrate the amount of material that has to be checked; the mountains of files produced in a modern bureaucracy are truly staggering. Seven million pages of Nazi documents have been published on microfilm by the Washington National Archives alone. Tens of thousands of other documents are deposited in Potsdam and Merseburg (East Germany), in Warsaw, Prague, and Moscow. It goes without saying that the East European governments have not been very helpful. Their main concern is to discredit West Germany rather than to help find and punish the criminals. They are collecting ammunition, keeping their juiciest bits for release at some future date. Ludwigsburg, the West German coordinating center for the investigation of Nazi crimes, has done important work, even though its very efficient director was recently found to have been at least a nominal member of the Nazi party. Yet once the bureaucratic mills of German judicial investigation begin to grind, they grind exceedingly small, and even internal sabotage cannot stop the wheels.

There are further complications. According to the treaty of May 1955 (the Ueberleitungsvertrag) drafted by the Allies, German courts must not prosecute anyone already tried or investigated by the Allies. Since then, much additional evidence has come to light, but the treaty makes it impossible to touch some of the chief criminals. These days, when SS lieutenants or captains are sentenced, their far more guilty superior officers are sometimes among the spectators in court, and they cannot be brought to trial.

There are other obstacles as well. Sometimes there is a suspicion that some high police officials are dragging their feet when called upon to investigate their former colleagues of the Nazi political police. Nor has there been a radical purge among the judges, which makes the judiciary an instrument of doubtful value in the cleansing process that still remains to be done. Hardly a month passes without some sensational revelation about the past of a prominent judge or state prosecutor. Apart from that, more than twenty years after the event, it is not always easy to pin down individual responsibility, except where the most prominent killers are concerned. Memories fade and witnesses tend to contradict themselves and each other when trying to reconstruct what happened in the camps and ghettos during the war. In these circumstances, a clever defense lawyer can easily raise doubts and confusion and get his client acquitted.

Most opponents of the Nazi murder trials in Germany are not, however, motivated by considerations of legal rectitude, nor even of political opportunism. They simply do not want to be reminded of the horrible crime committed by Germans and in the name of the German people. These include a substantial number of young Germans who reject responsibility for the crimes of their parents' generation. The same students who are so passionately interested in the condition of the Negroes in Alabama or Mississippi do not want to be bothered with the fate of the Jews—they have heard enough about it. And they want to know why no one talks of punishing non-Germans who committed atrocities during the war.

Misinterpreting public opinion abroad, many Germans believe that in continuing these trials, they are fouling their own nest and making a bad impression, stirring up anti-German feelings abroad. They fail to understand that the attitude of most non-Germans toward the Nazi crimes has not mellowed over the years. They do not realize that their reluctance to face their own past isolates them from other Western countries. German public opinion outside Bonn is no more influenced by newspaper reports of sentiment in other countries than American or British public opinion. But politicians and parliamentarians are more sensitive, and the violent reactions abroad compelled them to re-examine their stand on the whole issue of Nazi crimes and trials. This is not to say that it was foreign pressure alone which made them change their minds; the real state of affairs was more complicated. But it is very doubtful that many of them would have been induced to rethink their position if not for foreign pressure.

_____________

Most observers of the postwar German scene will agree that the new Germany is in most essential respects a far different country from the Third Reich. The impending neo-Nazi revivals announced every now and then during the late 40's and 50's never took place. To equate Hitler's and Erhard's Germany may provide emotional release, but such an equation has no relation to the facts. Yet it is also true that most observers still have to be convinced of the depth and thoroughness of Germany's democratic transformation. Would the country's democratic institutions be able, for instance, to survive an economic crisis? In the eyes of a large part of the world, Germany is still on probation. For Germans, this is exceedingly difficult to accept. If all Germans are treated like so many criminals out on parole, if no confidence is shown in them, they are hardly likely to respond by opting for brotherhood and democracy—even convicted criminals are shown some trust in the hope that they will mend their ways: thus Die Zeit in a recent editorial. Should not the Germans, especially the younger generation, be given a little more credit? Credit should indeed be given where credit is due. But distrust and suspicion will persist so long as the majority of Germans show such reluctance to face up to the recent past. The German government and parliament have shown that they do not want to shirk their responsibilities. But there is still the disquieting fact that their decision (as a British correspondent put it) was so “sadly out of touch” with public opinion, even though it was a compromise resolution which did not really go far enough.

¹ Early last month, the New York Times reported that according to highly reliable sources Nasser will in all likelihood not recognize East Germany after Israel and West Germany exchange ambassadors.—ED.