The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Reverend Justin Welby, has apologised for the bombing of Dresden. Now, call me an ill-informed historian with a First from Cambridge but I don’t recall Justin Welby being at No. 10 in 1945; neither was he at the Air Ministry or in Bomber Command. So in what sense can he apologize? He didn’t do it! To say he is sorry that it happened is a different proposition; it is not an apology. And I hope to his God that he is equally sorry for the Luftwaffe’s bombing of London, Coventry, Plymouth, Hull and all the other cities flattened by the Nazis 70 years ago – including, I might add, Justin Cantuar’s own city of Canterbury.
Dresden was a beautiful city, but it wasn’t just making lovely porcelain in the days of the Reich; it was a vitally important railway junction through which men and materiel were funneled to continue the German war effort. was Bomber Harris’s attack justified? Millions of Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals and millions more living under Nazi occupation would have said a resounding ‘Yes’!
In 1933 the people of Germany (including Dresden) had the chance to resist Hitler – they didn’t, perfectly content to go along with the myth of Aryan supremacy and to tolerate the arrogant obscenities that followed. bleating about the loss of 25,000 people in Dresden is more than a little rich bearing in mind the total casualties in the Second World War. for years, historians referred to this as Hitler’s War. It wasn’t. It was a Nazi war. More than that, it was a German war. The people of Dresden will have to live with that and so will the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Catholic bishops have branded Wolf Hall inaccurate and anti-Catholic. Quite right. So far, half the viewers think the series is marvellous and half of them can’t follow the plot or see in the dark (which is more or less the same thing) and a million such viewers have gone off to make a cup of tea and never came back.
The fault, dear Brutus, lies not with the TV adaptation but with the book itself. Hilary Mantel (not an historian, alas) wrote it (incomprehensibly) in the present tense, which meant that, far from being unable to put it down, I could barely pick it up. Some time ago I asked a class of Year 9 students to write up the situation in Germany in the 1920s from the point of view of Adolf Hitler. One girl said she couldn’t because she couldn’t get inside the head of such a misfit with so much blood on his hands. I sympathised. Historians, I told her, are supposed to be unbiased, even-handed, fair. But some individuals stand out as being, to use a technical term much bandied about where scholars gather, utter shits. Thomas Cromwell, Dame Mantel’s (how did that happen?) hero is one such.
If you doubt this, take in Leo McKern’s brilliant portrayal of him in A Man For All Seasons. More historically, have a look at Hans Holbein’s portrait of Cromwell in the National Portrait Gallery – the thick neck, the piggy, shifty eyes; it’s all there; psychopathy writ large. He is an anti-hero and literature is full of them. The problem comes when fiction passes as fact. What’s the betting that desperate History teachers will soon be using the DVD of Wolf Hall as a classroom aid? It then, to undiscerning kids, becomes fact. It’s not going to happen in my classroom!