(This takes 7¾ minutes to read.)

Nor should ‘sympathiser’ be taken to imply purely a general sympathy for German grievances because this was — as will be shown below — a commonly held view of Conservatives of all creeds. Ultimately there were two sorts of sympathiser, each revealing a varying degree of exuberance for the [Third Reich]: the ‘enthusiast’ and the ‘fraterniser’.¹⁸

‘Enthusiasts’ were those Conservatives of an extreme right-wing persuasion who expressed an admiration for the [Third Reich’s] system of government and who continued to believe in the necessity of Anglo-German friendship even as war appeared increasingly likely, and then favoured “peace” once hostilities had commenced. There were very few Conservatives who actually met this criteri[on], the dukes of Buccleuch and Westminster, Lord Brocket and Captain Ramsay, the MP for Peebles, and C.T. Culverwell, the Bristol West MP, being the most readily identifiable. Culverwell’s pro-German sentiments emerged during the Munich debate when he denied German ‘war guilt’ for the 1914–18 conflict and suggested

that the methods to which Germany has been compelled to resort, in order to obtain what I believe so far to be her just rights, have been forced upon her by the stupidity of the allies. There would have been no reason for a German resort to force for the attainment of any of the aims [...] had it not been for the fact that we never willingly granted her any concessions, and, in my opinion, if the concessions for which she asked had been given in time, it would have promoted good feeling between this country and that great empire.¹⁹

Following a visit to Germany and the Sudetenland in the aftermath of Munich, Culverwell wrote of his impressions of the [Third Reich] in his local newspaper and admitted that there were many features that were ‘commendable’. His article also displayed his anti-semitic streak. On the German persecution of the Jews he wrote: ‘However greatly we deplore the harsh methods adopted to deal with this problem, we must admit that the problem exists. The Jews occupied a position in Germany incommensurate with their numbers.’ Culverwell was displaying what has been labelled liberal or assimilationist anti-semitism: a philosophy which blamed the Jews’ behaviour and inability to blend into society for the existence of prejudice.²⁰

Following Prague, Buccleuch lamented the ‘anti-German bias’ in London which he found ‘depressing’ believing it to be ‘now so impossible for a few individuals to stand up successfully against the powerful influence of public men of the Churchill, Amery, Eden type, and so many of those who control the press.’²¹ After the outbreak of war in 1939 Buccleuch was one of a small number of “defeatists”, who urged the government to make terms at what ever cost with the Germans.²²

Archibald H. Maule Ramsay had been elected a Conservative MP in 1931, but was increasingly viewed as a wild eccentric on the extreme fringes of the Party. Having read the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in 1938 he became converted to the idea of a Jewish world conspiracy. In his memoirs published in 1952 Ramsay denied being a fascist declaring that he had merely wished to purge the Conservative Party of all Jewish influence.²³ The historian, Richard Thurlow, has labelled Ramsay as ‘the most significant figure on the fascist fnnge of British politics’ along with Mosley, leader of the British Union of Fascists.²⁴

However Ramsay’s influence amongst the Conservative Party’s decision makers was limited, if not negligible. A series of anti-semitic speeches in early 1939 created a ‘difficult situation’ in Ramsay’s Peebles constituency but one which the Scottish Unionist’s secretary. Colonel Blair believed to be ‘part of a vigorous press campaign against the Member’ which he ‘hoped would blow over.’²⁵

Privately, Ramsay was involved in two anti-semitic and extreme right groups, the Nordic League, for which he was the convenor, and as leader of the Right Club. Both groups supposedly disbanded on the outbreak of war but the Right Club’s leaders continued to meet secretly providing the authorities with the excuse in 1940 to intern many fascist sympathisers, including Ramsay, without trial under the 18B regulations.²⁶

Ramsay was also associated with ‘The Link’ an organisation which wished to avoid war between Britain and Germany by educating the British population about the ‘true’ nature of nazism and by correcting the ‘false’ impression cultivated by the press. The Times published a letter on 12 October 1938 from ‘The Link’ which praised the Munich agreement and which was signed by Ramsay, John Smedley Crooke, the Member for Deritend, and Conservative Lords Londonderry and Mount-Temple.

These Conservatives on the extreme right were increasingly isolated after October 1938, and their impact upon the wider Party was negligible. Unlike on the continent, the vast majority of the British Conservative right was never ‘frustrated’ enough to need its own ‘extremism’. The Party’s leadership recognised, and the right appreciated, that policy moderation was required to secure a substantial part of the centre vote and sustain electability, especially in marginal seats.²⁹

The second kind of ‘sympathiser’, the ‘fraternisers’ were a more broad and numerous grouping, encompassing many from the right and centre of the Party. As with the ‘enthusiasts’, they were capable of expressing positive statements of approval about the nature of nazism. A few of them, with a die-hard background, such as Sir Thomas Moore, the Member for Ayr Burghs, had associated themselves during the early 1930s with the emerging, and at that time “respectable”, British Union of Fascists.³⁰ However, these links were soon severed after the violence of the 1934 Olympia meeting and the withdrawal of support by the Rothermere press empire.

This flirting with fascism may have been due to a sense of frustration with the existing political situation in Britain. The National governments of the early 1930s, despite their huge Conservative majorities, appeared unable to deal with the problems in foreign policy, defence and the economy; problems which the fascist dictatorships seemed so readily to overcome. It encouraged some to question the effectiveness of British institutions and to ask whether they were sustainable. In turn, they expressed admiration for some of the features of fascism. Many of these ‘fraternisers’ visited [the Third Reich] as guests of the régime during this period. Conservative MPs and peers were frequently invited to Nuremberg to hear Hitler speak.

For example, Lord Apsley, Sir Frank Sanderson, Sir Thomas Moore, Sir Arnold Wilson and Admiral Sir Murray Sueter were guests of Ribbentrop in September 1936, whilst ‘Chips’ Channon attended the Berlin Olympics of that same year as part of the Ribbentrop party. One [Fascist] official observed that a greater number of British ‘guests’ th[a]n ever before attended the crucial September 1938 Nuremberg rally, including the Member for Stockport, Norman Hulbert.

What distinguished these ‘fraternisers’ from the ‘enthusiasts’ was that in the aftermath of Munich they increasingly recognised Hitler’s hegemonic ambitions and the brutality of which his régime was capable. By the time [that the Third Reich] annexed Prague in March 1939 the vast majority of ‘fraternisers’ had realised that Hitler posed a serious threat to British interests which required his being challenged, and some were to be called upon to give their lives fighting nazism from September 1939.³²

Many of these ‘fraternisers’ were associated with the Anglo-German fellowship. This was a non-political organisation with a principal purpose of promoting ‘fellowship between the two peoples’. However its annual report for 1936–7 considered that even if apolitical in intention ‘its fulfilment must inevitably have important consequences on policy.’

Left-wing critics suggested the fellowship was a propaganda tool for Hitler with its members willing pawns in the hegemonic ambitions of the [Fascist] leader. Indeed, questions were asked about the fellowship’s rôle in the House of Commons. It was an accusation strenuously denied by members.³³

Assheton Pownall, the MP for East Lewisham, told parliament in April 1939 that the organisation existed ‘only to promote good relations between us and Germany.’³⁴ Lord Mount-Temple, formerly a Conservative Whip and Transport Minister in the 1920s and president of the New Forest and Christchurch Conservative Association during the latter part of the 1930s, was chairman of the fellowship. He met Hitler in 1937 and had frequent contact with leading [Fascist] officials.³⁵

Throughout 1938 and 1939 Mount-Temple frequently entertained Nevile Henderson, the British ambassador to Berlin, at his Hampshire estate, Broadlands. This illustrates the extent to which the fellowship had access to the foreign policy decision-making élites.

At the end of February 1938, Mount-Temple wrote to The Times concerning the ‘rise of German nationhood’. Having read the letter Henderson wrote to Mount-Temple expressing agreement: ‘it may not be pleasant for ourselves or others but nothing is going to prevent the unity of Germany during this century or the oneness of the Deutsches Volk.’³⁶

Other Conservatives who sat on the fellowship’s council were Norman Hulbert, Thomas Moore, Sir Assheton Pownall, and Lords Arnold, Eltisley and Hollenden. In total, out of a membership of nine hundred, 22 were Conservative MPs, in addition to a further eleven Conservative and eleven cross-bench peers.³⁷

To left-wing critics, such as Simon Haxey, the importance of the fellowship lay not in its existence (for its activities were rather limited in scope) but in revealing ‘the section of British society which desires to befriend the Nazis and for whom the fellowship provides a suitable meeting place.’³⁸

Outside these more obvious and controversial coteries there does appear, amongst the remainder of Conservative centre-right and left, to have been a general degree of Germanophile sentiment. The origins of this pro-Germanism are complex and mixed. To the authoritarian centre-right nazism was seen as a bulwark against communism, and whilst it was not a democratic creed they were prepared to tolerate it so long as it did not threaten British interests.

[…]

Many Conservatives were unwilling until Prague to consider a commitment to the continent. This isolationist attitude was a common trait amongst those from the right and centre of the Party. The isolationists believed that Britain’s vital interests lay in the consolidation and protection of British assets, which in practice was the motherland and the empire. To their minds eastern Europe was not a British sphere of influence and most certainly not worth sacrificing British soldiers for. Hitler was therefore welcome to expand eastward.

(Emphasis added.)

You can see the author playing down these Conservatives’ ties to Fascism, implying yet never quite saying outright ‘better late than never’.

As socialists, we are not impressed to see generic anticommunists finally get off their arses to gently sound the alarm about Fascism long after it secured power: communists struggled against Fascism in the 1910s–1920s and struggled against it again in the 1930s—even before it become institutional. As early as 1923, Clara Zetkin warned the lower classes about Fascism, the atrocities against Libyans in the 1920s could have served as warnings for what the Fascists were willing to commit elsewhere, and Jewish adults aware of the Medz Yeghern feared a similar atrocity from the German Fascists. The writing was on the wall.

Nor should we be surprised that these generic anticommunists took so long to sound the alarm: contrary to what neoliberals and neofascists alike believe, Fascism was harmless to capitalism. Capital, the law of value, and generalized commodity production all only expanded under Fascism, which was why liberal régimes did not rush to invade either Fascist Italy or the Third Reich like they rushed to invade the RSFSR. Therefore, the reaction to Conservatives reconsidering their pro-fascism should not be ‘better late than never’ but ‘too little, too late’.

Further reading: Fascists and Conservatives: The radical right and the establishment in twentieth-century Europe