With proponents of military intervention and war, it’s always 1938, and every attempt to substitute diplomacy for escalation and war is “appeasement.”
These, of course, are references to the notorious Munich conference of 1938, when UK prime minister Neville Chamberlain (and others) agreed to allow Adolf Hitler’s Germany to annex the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia as a means to avoid a general war in Europe. The “appeasement,” of course, failed to prevent war because Hitler’s regime actually planned to annex much more than that.
Ever since, the “lesson of Munich” for advocates of military intervention is that it’s always best to escalate international conflicts and meet all perceived aggressors with immediate military force rather than embrace compromise or nonintervention.
But it is not, in fact, the case that every act of diplomacy or compromise designed to avoid war is appeasement. Moreover, we can find countless examples in which nonintervention and a refusal to escalate a situation was—or would have been—the better choice.
The Foundations of the ‘Lesson of Munich’
The supposed lesson of Munich is based on two basic pillars. The first is the assumption that any act of military aggression will lead to many more acts of military aggression if not forcefully countered. It is basically a variation on the now-discredited domino theory: if one nation submits to conquest by an aggressive neighbor, other nations will soon be forced to submit as well. This assumes every allegedly aggressive state has the same motivations as Nazi Germany and can plausibly seek a large, region-wide chain of military conquests across numerous states.The second pillar of the lesson of Munich is that since every aggressive military act is likely to lead to many more, the only realistic option is to meet aggression with escalation and a no-compromise response.
In 2022, Putin is the new Hitler, which necessarily means to some that any failure by the West to respond to the Russian invasion with a full-blown military escalation is a Munich-style appeasement.
“In Ukraine that means that Western reticence to fight directly against the Russians in Ukraine does not automatically mean that Putin will test NATO’s collective security commitment or that China will attack Taiwan.”
The Lesson of 1914
Yet there are competing lessons to be learned. Lessons can be found, say, in the lead-up to the Crimean War in 1853 or the July Crisis of 1914. (Ask the average American about either of these, and you will probably receive a blank stare.)In both of these cases, regimes claimed they were countering aggression by foreign states and protecting either “allies” or oppressed minorities in the lands being subjected to conquest.
The lead-up to the First World War provides an especially cautionary tale about rushing to intervene in the name of supporting allies. The Austrian regime issued an ultimatum to the Serbians, and the Russians—with the support of France, Europe’s biggest democracy—mobilized in support of traditional ally Serbia. The Germans then mobilized in support of Austria-Hungary. Later, the regimes in the United Kingdom and the United States employed propaganda about alleged German war crimes in Belgium to ensure their respective countries entered the war. British politicians also claimed they must intervene to assist Britain’s Entente allies in resisting aggression.
Four years of preventable and utterly pointless bloodshed ensued. Thanks to calls to oppose aggression and defend allies, what should have been a regional war in the Balkans became a major Europe-wide war. Even worse, with the Treaty of Versailles and the inclusion of the absurd “War Guilt” clause against Germany, the war set the stage for the far more destructive Second World War.
Yet the war was a result of regimes doing—from their own perspectives—what the “lesson of Munich” dictates: rush to war, immediately escalate, and confront “enemies” with military force in the name of countering aggression.
The lesson of 1914 is certainly instructive today. Escalation is extraordinarily unwise, especially if there is the potential of turning limited wars into megascale disasters. Moreover, in the case of the United States, the complexity of the war’s causes meant there was no justifiable reason at all for the United States to enter. There was no “good guy” in the war, and American participation only further extended the bloodshed.
Fortunately, in spite of its pretensions of being the global guarantor of freedom always and everywhere, the United States has, at least twice, behaved as if it had learned the lesson of 1914. The first time was in 1956, when Soviet tanks rolled into Hungary when the Hungarian regime—an ostensibly sovereign state—became too uppity to suit Moscow. So, Soviet military might moved in to ensure Hungary remained sufficiently under Moscow’s control. Thousands of Hungarians were killed. Did the North Atlantic Treaty Organization mobilize against this aggression? Did Dwight Eisenhower ready America’s bombers? No.
Then, in Prague in 1968, Czechoslovakian resistance to Moscow led to an invasion of two hundred thousand foreign troops and twenty-five hundred tanks from the pro-Soviet regimes of the Warsaw Pact. Again, the United States took no action.
This, of course, was the right decision on the part of the United States and NATO. Heeding the Lesson of Munich, on the other hand, would have meant direct confrontation between NATO and the Soviet Union—a de facto confrontation between the United States and the USSR. This would have greatly increased the likelihood of global nuclear war.