Latest news with #Churchill
Associated Press
2 days ago
- Politics
- Associated Press
Book Review: 'Victory ‘45' chronicles the long, winding road to ending WWII
Most wars begin with a unilateral act. Americans fired 'the shot heard round the world' in Lexington in 1775, the Germans invaded Poland in 1939, and the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941. To call off a war, however, the belligerents must agree to terms and conditions, a collaborative and convoluted process. In the popular imagination, World War II concluded in 1945 with the deaths of Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini in Europe, and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan. As historians James Holland and Al Murray chronicle in their finely detailed book 'Victory '45: The End of the War in Eight Surrenders,' those events alone were not capable of halting the colossal military might unleashed over the previous six years. Consider how the ultimate aim of the Allies — unconditional surrender as set in a joint declaration — contrasted with the Nazi blood oath calling for a '1,000-year Reich or Armageddon.' President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill, meeting in Casablanca in January 1943, outlined the strategic, political, and moral clarity necessary to fight a global conflict. By spring 1945 Hitler and his supporters were rotting in his Berlin bunker. Holland and Murray use the bunker setting — depicted in the 2004 German film 'Downfall' featuring a meme-able Hitler tirade — as the predicate for the multiple European surrenders to come. If rehashing Hitler's suicide, in April 1945, early in the book seems anti-climactic, 'Victory '45' justifies itself by moving on to the unsung but equally dramatic tales of those who navigated the confusion of a war that was won but hardly finished. The first significant capitulation began weeks earlier when two backstabbing rivals in the Nazi SS high command in Northern Italy separately schemed to save their own postwar skins. Their intrigues delayed the first of Europe's unconditional surrenders, limited to their sector, signed just a day before Hitler's demise. A recurring motif was the futile attempts by the Germans to only yield to the West in hopes of splintering the Allies and escaping Soviet vengeance. While Holland and Murray include brief profiles of famous politicians and commanders as further European surrender ceremonies were staged and announced, 'Victory '45' finds its relevance and poignancy when it directs its focus downward. There, ordinary individuals journeyed to the intersections of triumph and despair, relief and revulsion. Examples include the Jewish-American college student haunted by the atrocities at a slave compound in Austria seized by his Army unit. Those rescued included a Jewish-Czech teen who lied about his age to avoid extermination at Auschwitz and joined his father in surviving stints at multiple camps. Liberation was punctuated by grief just days later in a makeshift hospital when his father died in his arms. On the Eastern Front, a young female translator in Soviet military intelligence was integral to a search in Germany's devastated capital. Were the reports of the Fuhrer's death Nazi disinformation? She interrogated captured witnesses, attended the autopsy of the burned corpse, and was even given custody of the teeth that were eventually confirmed as Hitler's. Not much further west, a bedraggled teenage German conscript who did escape Berlin's aftermath lived on the run until captured by a Russian soldier who simply told him, 'War is over! All go home!' Turning to the Pacific Theater, 'Victory '45' examines the grim prospect the Western Allies faced in 'unconditionally' conquering a warrior ethos in Japan, epitomized by their civilians' suicidal resistance to the Allied invasion of Okinawa. The necessity of the atomic bombings was proven by the attempted military coup staged by high-ranking Japanese holdouts who wanted to defy Emperor Hirohito's orders and continue fighting despite the threat of nuclear annihilation. Not simply targeted to WWII enthusiasts, 'Victory '45' illustrates for those with a broader historical interest the myriad challenges in bringing to heel the dogs of war. Brits Holland and Murray cannot be expected to quote Yankee baseball legend Yogi Berra, but their book deftly explains 80 years later why in war as well as sports, 'It ain't over 'til it's over.' ___ Douglass K. Daniel is the author of 'Kill — Do Not Release: Censored Marine Corps Stories from World War II' (Fordham University Press). ___ AP book reviews:
Spectator
2 days ago
- Politics
- Spectator
Gagging the military is a mistake
Some weeks ago at an army conference I listened to senior officers discussing the lethal, agile, 'integrated' British military of the future as set out in the government's recent Strategic Defence Review. Unfortunately I can't tell you what they said. The Chief of the General Staff Sir Roly Walker answered questions on what the SDR meant for the army. I can't tell you what he said either. Officers attending the conference were apparently told that, if they found themselves in accidental conversation with a journalist, they were to extricate themselves immediately. At a time of increased focus on national defence, it was a poor day for transparency. This was not a one off. A new Downing Street diktat bans senior officers (and also civil servants, diplomats and other public officials) from speaking at events that include question and answer sessions, or where the media is expected to be in attendance. Only ministers can now represent the government position. Officials have even been told not to speak to journalists on background. This unprecedented gag weakens public understanding of defence, is self-defeating, and displays an astonishing lack of trust. Relations between soldiers and governments have never been easy. Senior officers have often plunged into the political fray to gain institutional or budgetary advantage. Churchill's generals bemoaned his interference in military affairs; he in turn criticised their politicking and lack of strategic acumen. More recently, the concentration of financial and political power within the Ministry of Defence at the expense of the individual military services has curtailed open professional policy discussion. Post-Cold War spats over defence cuts, and the course of conflicts in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya also left a legacy of distrust. David Cameron famously told his generals in 2011 to do the fighting while he did the talking. Although governments have always sought to control 'the narrative', recently a persistent pattern has emerged of the government trying to prevent those working in defence in the public sector from communicating with the outside world via experts, think tanks and the media. In January 2024, General Walker's predecessor was slapped down for his misinterpreted comments about Britain needing a 'whole of nation' approach to defence (a wise view now embedded in the SDR). In April this year, the Chief of Defence Staff Tony Radakin addressed the National Defence University in Beijing. The MoD did not tell the public about the visit or what he said; we all first heard about it via the Chinese Ministry of Defence. Keir Starmer has promised 'transparency in everything we do', but defence reporters tell me that No. 10 is obsessed with a narrow defence message about jobs and domestic growth, not the risk of war with Russia or why investment is required. Backdrops, buzzwords and bland platitudes are prioritised over informed content. Media visits to defence establishments have been reduced and briefings curtailed; Labour ministers have decreed that every MoD press release should have a political message. The situation is not helped by a reactive, defensive MoD press operation focused on the news of the day rather than wider themes. Spin often gets in the way of substance. This is all unwise. Firstly, the clamp down reduces public understanding. Hard pressed ministers do not have the time nor professional knowledge to be able to explain the breadth and complexity of activity across defence. Some are better communicators than others. Those checking speeches in No. 10 lack experience, often erring on the side of caution, further reducing clarity. This means the official view can be poorly reflected, or reflected in strange ways by blocking mid-ranking subject matter experts from engaging directly. Secondly, the gag actively works against the government's own agenda. Defence is now the stated top priority of this government. The SDR recommended 'reconnecting defence with society'. This will be difficult. With the UK military so small, the public see less and less of it. Fewer have a direct family connection with it. Only half of the population believe spending on defence should increase. Less believe that increasing defence spending to 5 per cent of GDP, as promised the recent Nato summit, should come at the expense of health, welfare or benefits. Changing these perspectives requires more, not less, public discourse to build understanding and confidence. Thirdly, although politicians – rightly – should be the primary voice for a 'national conversation led by the government' on defence, senior officers and officials can assist them by explaining, supporting, clarifying and emphasising policy. Political sensibility is a prerequisite for the highest ranks of the military and civil service; the government should use those officials to strengthen defence ties with society. They should not marginalise them. Abroad, diplomats should be free to explain UK policy to our allies, not be prevented from doing so. Lastly, openness is a key principle for public life. No. 10's pettifogging tendency for ever greater centralisation and its evident distrust for its own officials goes against the empowered, unshackled and 'emboldened civil service' that Starmer says he wants. Control freakery diminishes the public realm. The first anniversary of Labour's election has found Starmer at the lowest point of his premiership. A shake up is due. But not everything is political; a 'whole of society' approach on defence means just that. It's time that Walker and his colleagues are uncorked.
Telegraph
5 days ago
- Politics
- Telegraph
Women are turning against mass migration. Can the Left really defend it?
Britain's political history is littered with the names of significant men. Churchill, Wilberforce, Disraeli, two Cromwells and countless others have all left their mark on the country we know today. But while the glory and the statues have usually gone to male leaders, the collective efforts of passionate and determined women have been responsible for some of our most important social reforms. Women in Epping are hoping to secure another such reform. Over the past week, mothers from this small town in Essex have organised protests against the housing of migrants in The Bell Hotel after an Ethiopian asylum seeker who was residing at the hotel was charged with sexually assaulting a teenage girl. One of the mothers at the protest, Lindsay Thompson, told GB News that the town has been 'ruined' and their children's safety 'taken away'. The Epping mothers have every right to be fearful. There are growing concerns about the behaviour of many young men housed in such hotels across the country and numerous reports of appalling sex crimes committed by illegal immigrants. Data shows that men from countries such as Afghanistan and Eritrea – from where a large proportion of illegal immigrants originate – are significantly more likely to commit sexual offences than British men or immigrants from Western nations. Over recent decades, significant political, legal and cultural efforts have been made to reduce violence against women and girls. Yet as a result of the failure of successive governments to prevent men from misogynistic cultures arriving in the UK illegally, the fear and prevalence of sexual violence are growing. For the mothers of Epping – and I suspect millions of others – enough is enough. Ordinarily, women tend to avoid gatherings where there may be a risk of violence; riots are by-and-large a testosterone-fuelled sport for young men. But when mothers believe their children are in danger, and when ordinary women start organising protests, history teaches us that the tide may be about to turn. In the 19 th century, women's organisations played a significant role in ending child prostitution. Female anti sex-trafficking campaigners in the United States, headed by young mother Laila Mickelwait, have succeeded in forcing the tech giant Pornhub to take down 10 million videos. The tables have turned on trans activism, largely because ordinary women saw the danger to their children and started campaigning. Mothers like Londoner Clare Page and the brave women of the Bayswater Support Group have risked jobs and reputations to raise awareness of the threat of gender ideology to children. The smartphone-free childhood movement is another such phenomenon, where much of the running has been done by everyday mothers appalled at the damage being done to their children by screens. But women's protective tendencies are not always deployed constructively. Some of the political movements most detrimental to women and children's safety – campaigns to welcome more immigration, allow men into women's spaces, or extend the abortion time limit to birth – have also been spearheaded by so-called feminists. When women's instincts drive them to protect children, who genuinely lack the means to defend themselves, they are an enormous force for good. But when female 'compassion' is employed to make excuses for adults who have agency, the results can be disastrous. All too often, women who demonstrate this 'toxic empathy' are being used by men who want to exploit women and girls. The maternal instinct is extraordinarily powerful, driving women to risk everything to protect children, often without any desire for recognition. Perhaps this explains why, when women get the bit between their teeth, things – eventually – will change. When it comes to Britain's broken immigration system, that change can't come soon enough.
Telegraph
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Churchill's paintings are worth millions – if you can get them authenticated
In the summer of 1916, Winston Churchill holidayed at Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex with his wife, Clementine. While he was there, the future prime minister indulged in his newly discovered passion for painting. He chose to paint a landscape of the castle, which was owned by his fellow politician Claude Lowther, but scrapped the plan and used the same canvas to instead capture a colourful scene of 'Clemmie' sitting in the sunken garden, surrounded by pink rambler roses. Churchill, an amateur who painted for pleasure, did not sign the painting, but Lowther made an inscription on the back stating who painted it, who was in the picture and when it was made. Stylistically, the painting is typical of Churchill – the female figure is stiff, while he put blotches of blue on tree leaves to show the sky – and Violet Bonham Carter, a friend of the couple, wrote in her diaries that she saw him painting at Herstmonceux during that time. That was the case put forward by the team on BBC One's Fake or Fortune?, in an episode broadcast earlier this week. Barry James, a carer and passionate art collector, bought the painting for just £140 at a Sussex antique fair in 2022 and discovered the Lowther inscription on the back. He had struggled to get the painting authenticated as a genuine Churchill, so enlisted the help of Fiona Bruce and Philip Mould. Despite the compelling evidence gathered by the Fake or Fortune? team that suggested it was indeed done by Churchill, there was no 'smoking gun' piece of documentary evidence to definitively prove it. Much of the episode became an exercise in 'to me, to you' buck-passing of which The Chuckle Brothers would have been proud. The Churchill Paintings Group – a collection of academics, experts and family members that maintains the definitive Churchill artistic catalogue – declined to authenticate the painting for James. They suggested the big London auction houses might do so instead. When Mould, a renowned art dealer, went to Bonhams to try just that, he was told that it needed to be done by an expert or the estate. Stalemate. To the frustration of James, and the millions of viewers of Fake or Fortune?, he continues to be stuck in limbo, months after the programme was filmed. Mould, who is clearly convinced that James has a genuine Churchill on his hands, suggested there were two prices for the painting: he could sell it now, without total authentication, to a speculative collector who hoped definitive proof would eventually arrive, for between £100,000 and £200,000. Or James could wait for such evidence to emerge and possibly make as much as £600,000. 'Computer says no' Many will not understand why the group, an expert body set up to preserve Churchill's artistic legacy, will not engage with James's painting. The obstinate stance could open it up to accusations of behaving amateurishly, or a dereliction of duty. The insistence on cast-iron documentary proof that Churchill was the painting's creator leads to the feeling that there is a 'computer-says-no' attitude at play. 'I've always seen it as a responsibility amongst formal groups of art historians who publish catalogues raisonnés to ensure that works are comprehensively considered on the full merits of their cases,' Mould tells me. 'This includes provenance, but also documentary evidence, scientific analysis and stylistic comparisons.' The history of art is a living thing, not preserved in aspic, and sometimes requires experts to take a risk and accept the evidence before them – even if it is not as comprehensive as they might like. 'Art history relies upon this continuous and connoisseurial process in order that the canon of a deceased artist's work is kept up to date,' Mould adds. 'It will be interesting to see what happens in the future with Churchill Paintings Group – there are undoubtedly more genuine works by Churchill that are awaiting to be formally anointed. Barry's picture is one of them, and by the standards of most art historical processes of appraisal, and with due impartiality, would, on all the evidence I've seen, be accepted as such.' Market explosion There are particular pressures when it comes to Churchill's oeuvre because the market for his paintings has exploded in recent years. The art world was electrified when Angelina Jolie sold a Churchill painting at Christie's in 2021 for £8.2m. Tower of the Koutoubia Mosque was the only painting he did during the Second World War and he gave it as a gift to Franklin D Roosevelt – making it a piece of particular fascination – but plenty of others have now gone under the hammer for more than £1m. One factor that may be influencing the Churchill Paintings Group is fear of being sued for an incorrect attribution. There's no precedent for this in the UK, but lawsuits in the US on the matter are common. 'Unfortunately what's happened is that the world has become increasingly litigious, so people are just very cautious,' says Nick Orchard, head of modern British and Irish art at Christie's. 'So you get some groups who will not really authenticate a work because they are concerned that if it turns out to be wrong they get sued.' The estates of artists such as Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat, for instance, have stopped authenticating new works entirely, such was the level of legal difficulty in which they became embroiled. The Churchill situation is especially 'complex', Orchard adds, because the provenance of his work has a large bearing on what sale price it could fetch. 'Churchill painted really for his own pleasure and didn't sell his work – he either kept it or gave it to friends, or people of significance – so the stories about who he's given a painting to and who that individual is can make a massive difference to the value of the painting,' he says – hence the value of the Jolie picture. Of the Churchill Paintings Group, Orchard says, 'I don't know that they necessarily apply a rigorous scientific process to expertise. So I just think they don't want risk.' Some of those who have sold Churchill paintings previously reckon that James's painting is the real deal. Luke Bodalbhai, a fine art specialist at Cheffins in Cambridgeshire, is one such. Bodalbhai points out that circumstantial evidence is the way Old Masters tend to be authenticated, because 'it's rare that you have a provenance trail going back hundreds of years directly to when it was painted' and that the same should apply to the apparent Churchill. 'I would have been happy to have sold that painting as, at the very least, attributed to Churchill,' he adds. 'Obviously it wasn't signed, but signatures aren't the be-all and end-all.' The Churchill Paintings Group Membership of the Churchill Paintings Group includes Allen Packwood, the director of the Churchill Archives Centre at Churchill College, Cambridge, and Barry Phipps, an art historian and fellow of Churchill College, as well as Churchill's own descendants. Paul Rafferty, an artist and adviser to the group who is an expert on Churchill's work, told Mould on BBC One that 'if I were to stand up and give my opinion I would feel very confident in being positive about this painting'. Packwood tells me that, despite the widespread frustration many feel on behalf of James, the remit of the paintings group is misunderstood. 'The Churchill Paintings Group is an informal working group to consider issues relating to paintings by the late Sir Winston Churchill (1874–1965), to maintain the accuracy of the catalogue and to coordinate activity where possible,' he says in a statement. '... The group does not authenticate Churchill paintings.' According to the official Churchill catalogue, compiled by the now-retired art historian David Coombs, the statesman produced more than 500 paintings. There are no current plans to expand it further and, in the absence of Coombs, there appears to be no mechanism by which a Churchill painting might be authenticated in future. Thus we are in a bizarre situation. The Churchill Paintings Group claims not to be the appropriate expert body to authenticate pictures he may have painted – though it is hard to think of any collection of people more clued-up on his work – while experts elsewhere defer to the authority of the Churchill Paintings Group. It all feels a bit wimpy for a market running into the many millions, where the sale of a single painting could transform an owner's life. James told Mould he would 'reluctantly' sell the painting if it was confirmed as a Churchill, and he would use some of the money to take his disabled son on holiday to Niagara Falls. But he should not totally despair. In 2015, another apparent Churchill painting surfaced on Fake or Fortune? but there was not enough proof at the time for it to pass muster. The work, of a sun-drenched village square on the French Riviera, was only authenticated as a Churchill five years later. Rafferty had discovered a photograph of the scene at Chartwell, the Churchill family home in Kent, which was enough evidence to force Coombs to accept it as genuine. James will have to hope something similar turns up to help him.
Spectator
6 days ago
- Spectator
The nostalgic joy of Frinton-on-Sea
For the recent heatwave, it was my mission to escape our little Wiltshire cottage, where it hit 35°C. It has one of those very poor structural designs unique to Britain that, like plastic conservatories or the Tube, is useless in hot weather. First, we went to stay with friends in Frinton-on-Sea with our English bulldog, who was born in nearby Clacton and is shamelessly happy to be back among his people. Some years ago I lived in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, a living museum of America's pre-revolutionary settler history. Frinton doesn't go quite that far – there are no ersatz yeomen milking doleful cows – but to visit is to enter a time warp back to the mid-1930s. It's the sort of place where Hercule Poirot might solve a crime while en vacances. The town's heyday was the first half of the 20th century, when society notables including Churchill and Edward VII came to enjoy the solemn whimsy of ornate villas (Dutch gables, gothic crenellations and French balconies to the owner's taste), the pristine golf course and the elegant lawn tennis club. Most famous of all are the beach huts, a long, neat row on stilts, which contain so many people's early memories. My grandmother lived near Colchester and every summer my mother courageously carted her six children (and, on two occasions, a cat in a basket) from Wales, across the London Underground and out to Essex for a week. Encounters with childhood nostalgia can be disappointing. The den from primary school has been tarmacked over. A favourite climbing tree has blown down. Caramac bars have been discontinued. Frinton, though, is just as I remember it. The sweet shop, the greensward, the wooden groynes covered in seaweed. The big sky and murky sea. Second homes and holiday lets are rare. Deep consideration is given to what innovations might lower the tone, and most things are rejected. There is now one pub, which opened 25 years ago, and one fish and chip shop that started in 1992. Huts have been painted cheerful pastel colours instead of the original dark brown. Other than that, Frinton is unchanged. Is the town an example of stout local pride or stick-in-the-mud nimbyism? With its mad but lovely housing stock and proximity to London, it might have become England's answer to East Hampton were the local council and residents not so resistant to change. As it is, you can't even sell ice creams on the seafront. I like it. Tucked into Nigel Farage's constituency, Frinton embodies the 'good old days' that so many Reform-minded people want to get back to, because those days simply never left them. Two days later, via London where I record the Telegraph's Daily T podcast with Tim Stanley, we head west to my parents' house in [redacted] Pembrokeshire. The small coastal town is another delight, the secret of which makes locals and lifelong holidaymakers cry when they see it featured in Sunday supplement 'best places to stay' lists in case it attracts the kind of hordes who block up Cornish lanes with their enormous Range Rovers. Costa del Cymru is a balmy 30°C and plays host to an unwelcome shoal of jellyfish who park up in the bay and a raucously fun farm wedding above the golf course. By day we swim, sandcastle, and siesta in front of the cricket and tennis. In the afternoons we loll in the garden and, in lieu of a children's paddling pool, have great results with a washing up bowl and the lovely sensation of sticking your finger up a gushing hosepipe. At night we are treated to lobster – proudly potted by Dad – white wine and the blissful sensation of snuggling down under a duvet against the slight chill. It's a deeper sleep than we've had in weeks. At the end of the stay, Mum and I try on some hats for my sister's impending wedding, then we play a tedious game of suitcase Tetris before travelling home in heavy rain. I drive and my husband works. It makes me think of how robust the constitutions of cabinet ministers must be, seeing as they do most of their box work from the back of a car and aren't sick. We arrive home to a dead lawn and the creepers of wisteria climbing into our bedroom windows like The Day of the Triffids. I check my weather apps – variable and unsettled; ho hum – and get back to work on my latest novel, which is about the shenanigans of randy young farmers in the countryside. That night I lie awake on top of the sheets in the humid darkness, sure I can ever so faintly hear the crash of waves and the cry of gulls. There is no refreshing waft of breeze, neither easterly nor westerly.
