A Talent for Being There
By BARTON SWAIM
The Wall Street Journal, August 2, 2011
By Steve Wick
Palgrave Macmillan, 264 pages, $27
Before William Shirer wrote 'The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich,' he witnessed the Nazis' rise firsthand.
In the summer of 1933, William Shirer was living with his new wife in Lloret de Mar, a tiny village on the Catalonian coast. For seven years this young man from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, now 29 years old, had been a reporter with the Paris bureau of the Chicago Tribune, and he had flourished. In 1927, he had been on the very spot when Charles Lindbergh landed in Paris—a remarkable feat when nobody knew where, or if, Lindbergh would land—and he had been the "sole representative of the world press" (as the Tribune would boast) at Mohammed Nadir Khan's coronation as shah of Afghanistan. And yet in the fall of 1932, for reasons unexplained by the Tribune's notoriously difficult owner, Robert McCormick, Shirer received a telegram from headquarters: "Shirer this notification your services with Tribune terminates today October sixteenth stop you will be paid one months salary."
In Paris, Shirer had met Hemingway and Fitzgerald, and like many young American expatriates, he thought he had a great novel in him. So he used what money he had saved to rent that seaside cottage and started typing. But a novelist Shirer was not to be. After a year Shirer gave up and started looking for another reporting job. He found a place with William Randolph Hearst's Universal Service at the company's Berlin office—to the great benefit of 20th-century reportage, as Steve Wick documents in "The Long Night," a superb short biography.
"This work is not a scholarly work," Mr. Wick writes. "My goal from the beginning was to write more of an adventure story than a book of history." "The Long Night" is indeed an adventure story, with short chapters and a fast-paced narrative drive. But Mr. Wick has documented the story with scrupulous attention to detail, too, drawing on Shirer's published works as well as his papers and correspondence. Shirer would achieve fame all over the English-speaking world as a historian of the Third Reich, but he was at his best as a reporter. His greatest talent lay, as Mr. Wick shows, in simply being there when big things happened.
He was there, in March of 1935, when Joseph Goebbels announced that the Reich would disregard the Treaty of Versailles. He was in the Kroll Opera House one year later when Hitler announced that German troops had already begun to march into the Rhineland. In his diary Shirer recorded that Gen. Werner von Blomberg, the commander-in-chief of the armed forces looked pale during Hitler's speech. Later Shirer was told by a high-ranking source that German troops had orders not to engage if they were opposed, so unprepared were they to meet the French army.
When Universal Service went under and Shirer again found himself on the job market, he was approached by Edward Murrow, who persuaded him to take a job with CBS in the incipient field of radio journalism. Americans could now hear the news as it was happening. Shirer was in Vienna in 1938, when German troops crossed the Austrian border and crowds of emboldened Nazis could be seen taunting Jews and forcing them to clean sidewalks with toothbrushes. Later Shirer followed German troops through Belgium on their way to France; he arrived in Paris to find the city deserted, German troops cautiously wandering the streets and a Nazi flag adorning the Eiffel Tower. Shirer witnessed Parisians' bewildered outrage when, in June 1940, news spread that Marshal Petain himself would ask the Germans for an armistice, and Shirer broadcast live from just outside the famous railroad car in Compiègne where, a few days later, the French signed away their country.
By then Shirer's German censors had become perversely difficult. Mr. Wick, a journalist himself, is alert to the dilemma faced by reporters working inside closed countries: Does one tell the story as one sees it and risk ejection, or does one abide by the censorship and hope that the world can exegete the truth from hints and suggestions? For Shirer, as his diaries show, the dilemma was a constant source of anxiety and self-reproach. "For the last few months," he wrote in September 1940, near the end of his time in Berlin, "I've been trying to get by on my wits, such as they are; to indicate a truth or an official lie by the tone and inflexion of the voice, by a pause held longer than is natural. . . . But the Nazis are on to me."
When Shirer returned to the United States, he hosted his own Sunday news show with CBS, but he was forced out in 1947 and blamed Murrow. He spent the next decade living off income earned by memoirs and reviews, but it wasn't enough. "To keep the family afloat," Mr. Wick writes, Shirer undertook a book based on his own wartime reporting but deepened by research into Reich documents. Published at last in 1960, "The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich" was a massive and impressive work of history. He made a fortune from it.
The work's most controversial argument, that Nazism was the inevitable outcome of German history from the Reformation forward, is not a serious one. Shirer's brief and breezy treatment of pre-20th-century German history amounts to little more than a false extrapolation from a truism—like saying that, since Chinese communism is a distinctly Chinese form of communism, it was the inevitable culmination of Chinese history.
Yet Shirer's motivation was honorable. He wanted to squash the idea that Germany had been hijacked by a few extremists. He knew otherwise. "I have still to find a German," he writes in a typical diary entry, "even among those who don't like the regime, who sees anything wrong in the destruction of Poland." That Shirer's most famous book failed to explain the origins of German Nazism is no great mark against him. It is probably beyond the capacity of human reason to explain how a noble, civilized people succumbed to a homicidal delusion. Shirer narrated the events of that descent and did so with integrity. That is enough to earn our gratitude.
Mr. Swaim is the author of "Scottish Men of Letters and the New Public Sphere, 1802-34."
