Book Review: Frederick Kempe- Berlin 1961

John F. Kennedy remains the most divisive figure in modern American political history.  In ‘Berlin 1961’, Frederick Kempe gives the President’s reputation a good kicking, as he unpicks the political and diplomatic events that led to the construction of the Berlin Wall. 

 

Meticulously researched, and written with a good deal of flair, ‘Berlin 1961’ is an engaging and thoroughly entertaining read. That said, some of Kempe’s revisionist conclusions are, to be frank, unconvincing and poorly justified. 

Diplomacy, as far as the author is concerned, boils down to alpha males rutting amidst banquets and courses of strong alcohol. This caricature-- more accurate than desirable-- is a simplification none the less. Thus his description of the Vienna summit, (an unmitigated disaster for the President) which Kempe claims laid the foundations for all that followed, is lacking in subtlety. 

More, his conclusion that Kennedy’s stewardship in 1961 was ‘one of the worst inaugural-year performances of any modern US President’ rests upon a peculiar reading of the Berlin crisis.

Kempe would have us believe that the President had several options before him, and that he chose the worst: do nothing. In reality, however, the Americans’ were in an invidious position. Had Kennedy chosen to plough through the wall, he would have been required to mobilise forces, this in turn would have begat Ulbricht and Khrushchev to do the same. Of course, one cannot be sure how such a confrontation would have played out. It is possible the Soviets may have backed down; possible, but far from certain. 

Thus, Kennedy’s basic assessment that ‘a wall is a hell of a lot better than a war’ is one many of his contemporaries- on both sides of the Atlantic- would have shared. Indeed, I struggle to believe that Truman, Roosevelt, Johnson or even Eisenhower would have reacted differently, as fundamentally-- despite the rhetoric—Washington was not prepared to risk nuclear war over Berlin. 

This is not to say the President’s decision making was above reproach. Kempe rightfully points out there were several missed opportunities to improve superpower relations, and that Washington failed to respond promptly to the Wall’s construction. Yet, I fear most readers will share my assessment that Berlin was not the ‘defeat’ Kempe presents it as. 

This is because, in crude geopolitical terms, the Wall merely codified the pre-existing balance of power. Kennedy realised this, and indicated to Khrushchev that he was free to do as he wished on his ‘side’ so long as he afforded Washington the same leeway in theirs. To my mind, this implicit acceptance of the status quo was a useful and rather astute compromise (if tragic for the people of Berlin). To Kempe, however, and to a certain American sensibility, such an approach runs contrary to cherished beliefs and values. After all, wasn’t it America’s aim to roll back communism? To stand up for liberty and stem the red tide? 

Accordingly it is the hawks, such as Dean Acheson (outside party with the President’s ear) and General Clay (hero of the earlier airlift) that emerge with the most credit, as Kempe attempts to revise the narrative of 1961. 

One aspect, however, that escapes attention is how the Western intelligence agencies missed Ulbricht stockpiling the materials required for construction. Kempe mentions in passing how the East Germans  concealed the arrival of vast amounts of barbed wire, but chooses not to investigate how exactly the build up passed undetected. This is all the more surprising because it is reasonable to presume a link between Ulbricht catching the West off guard and the feeble American response.

For the sake of balance, I should add that Kempe’s book is neither overtly partisan nor infuriatingly biased. In general, his observations are astute and his criticisms of the President fair. My main gripe then, is with his overarching thesis which becomes explicit only at the end. Not only does he chastise Kennedy unfairly, but he draws an erroneous link between Berlin 1961 and the Cuban missile crisis of a year later. 

Put simply, to argue that Kennedy’s handling of the German question encouraged Moscow to ship warheads to Havana, is to conflate two separate events, and to engage in reductionist history. Or to put it another way, there is no evidence to suggest that a tougher stance over Berlin would have dissuaded Khrushchev from sending missiles to Cuba twelve months later.

Indeed, I couldn’t help thinking that Kempe at times mistakes pragmatism for weakness. Sure, Kennedy might have adopted a tougher line; he may have challenged Khrushchev more readily, and taken it upon himself to dictate the tempo of events. But such manoeuvres were fraught with risk. Kennedy was feeling his way into international affairs; and as such it paid to be cautious.

Historiographically, Kempe’s revisionist account forms part of a wider trend which has seen scholars challenge the perceived wisdom of the Kennedy administration. This year, for instance, in the latest volume of his biography of Lyndon Johnson, Robert Caro painted a none too flattering portrait of the Kennedy Whitehouse. He wasn’t nearly as scathing as Kempe, but his overall impression was far from entirely favourable. 

In terms of Cold War history, ‘Berlin 1961’ offers a snapshot of one particularly tense moment that had the potential to explode into something more. In this sense expect several similar works to be published in the near future as historians and writers move away from the over-arching narrative and towards smaller incidents which, at any given moment, could have precipitated another global conflict. 

There are, however, two potential dangers with such histories. First, there is the temptation to sensationalise the event. Kempe, for example, often deploys short- suspense laden- sentences which attempt to ratchet up the drama; to put the very future of mankind on a knife-edge. This is not always necessary, and the reader should remember that in a Cold War context, any incident, anywhere, at anytime can be described as potentially monumental. 

Second, the collapse of the Soviet Union often colours a scholar’s account of the entire period. In other words, it’s all too tempting to look back and ask: could it have been different? To Kempe’s credit he does recognises this weakness in his intellectual position, and argues that just because America ‘won’ the Cold War, this doesn’t mean all American President’s got it right. Yet, while true, just because the Soviet Union collapsed, this doesn’t mean Moscow was always susceptible to the kind of pressure it came under during the late 1980s. 

In sum, this is a fine book, a fine, well researched, excellently paced and engagingly written book, which ultimately draws some pretty debatable and rather fiery conclusions.