|Co-Opting Nazi Germany: Neutrality in Europe During World War II
By Jonathan Petropoulos
It is time for Switzerland, Sweden, Portugal and Spain to acknowledge that there were no truly neutral countries on the European continent during World War II. It is now time for those four nations to acknowledge that they were part of the Nazis' New Order and that they bear some responsibility for the tragic history of the Thirties and Forties.
Neutrality, when practiced by nations, is not always neutral. It does not preclude involvement in international affairs, or even partisanship. According to international law, there are varying kinds of neutrality. For example, Switzerland adopted "differentiated" neutrality in 1920, a decision which indicated a willingness to employ economic sanctions to communicate disapprobation of another nation; in 1938 the Swiss embraced "integral," or supposedly unconditional, neutrality.
Despite the apparent precision of these legal terms, neutrality for Switzerland during World War II, as well as for the other continental European countries that claimed neutral status during that period -- Portugal, Sweden, Spain, and the Vatican -- can best be summed up by the phrase, self-interested noncombatant.1 These nations shared the common objectives of preserving relative independence in foreign policy and resisting encroachment into domestic affairs. But the costs were high: Switzerland, Sweden, Portugal and Spain, at certain points, deserved the unpleasant label -- to borrow the title from Donald Waters' book on Switzerland -- "Hitler's Secret Ally."2 From a late-twentieth century perspective, these nations can be seen to have occupied a gray area on the continuum between black complicity with the Third Reich and white resistance to the Nazi regime. What is striking about this in relation to Switzerland is not only that it puts that country on a par with fascist Spain, but that it challenges a pervasive myth the Swiss have about their wartime virtue and innocence. Indeed, the Swiss are tainted not just by their collaboration with the Reich, but by their postwar failure to confront a problematic past. To comprehend the magnitude of this "taint," it is necessary both to understand Switzerland's degree of involvement in Nazi crimes, and to place that involvement in the context of the wartime behavior of the other three "neutrals."
[T]he Swiss are tainted not just by their collaboration with the Reich, but by their postwar failure to confront a problematic past.
The Swiss and the Nazi Regime
The Swiss bolstered the Nazi regime in many ways, ways that can be summarized by the following categories: border policies, opportunities for trade, and financial transactions. Behavior in all of these categories was either immoral or amoral, but Switzerland's closing of escape routes over its border is probably the most troubling. Because the Swiss feared that the appearance of "softness" with respect to its borders adjoining Nazi Germany would be an incentive for Hitler to attack (to undertake "Operation Tannenbaum"), they were highly vigilant in guarding against those attempting to cross those borders into Switzerland without the appropriate visas. The Swiss did establish a series of internment camps during the war to provide sanctuary for a precious few: 200,000 refugees of whom 20,000 were Jews.3 The Swiss Jewish community and other organizations were then charged a head tax to support them.4 Many others who were fleeing the Nazis were turned away by the Swiss -- 30,000 Jews in 1942 alone were denied entry.5 Very often, those who sought sanctuary were apprehended by Swiss authorities and then delivered either to the Germans themselves, or, in the case of refugees trying to enter Switzerland from France, to officials of the collaborationist Vichy government. Moreover, it was the Swiss, specifically the head of the Federal Justice and Police Department, Dr. Heinrich Rothmund, who suggested to the Reich in 1938 that German Jews have their passports stamped with a red letter J. Rothmund is also credited with coining the now-famous phrase, "the lifeboat is full."6 The tradition of Swiss asylum, then, was effectively undermined during this period.7
Switzerland did not guard its borders solely to placate the Germans: many individual Swiss citizens happened to harbor racist and xenophobic sentiments.8 Although the Swiss Nazi movement was quite small -- it numbered only a few thousand -- and the party was even temporarily banned in 1936 to prevent disturbances after the assassination of Landesgruppenleiter Wilhelm Gustloff by a Jewish student, many Swiss were quite sympathetic to the racial agenda of the National Socialists. There were a variety of indigenous fascist parties, such as the Nationale Front and the Eidgenössische Soziale Arbeiter-Partei. Additionally, the Auslandsorganisation der NSDAP (Foreign Organization of the Nazi Party) was active in Switzerland, exploiting attitudes that were "anti-Jewish, anti-Free Mason, anti-Marxist, anti-pacifist, anti-democratic, and anti-liberal."9
And despite the paucity of support for the idea of joining Hitler's Reich, there were many Swiss who envisioned some kind of role for Switzerland in the Nazi New Order.10
It seems clear that even now, many Swiss cannot, in effect, acknowledge the disquieting aspects of their nation's wartime behavior.
The second way that Switzerland sustained the Reich was through trade ventures with the Nazi regime; these undertakings can best be summarized as cynical opportunism. Because Nazi government officials dominated Germany's foreign trade -- the "New Plan" conceived by Reichsbank president Hjalmar Schacht in 1934 centralized economic policy and gave the Reich government control over imports and exports as well as precious foreign currency -- trade with Germany effectively meant doing business with the Nazi leaders themselves. The Germans traded their coal for Swiss steel (among other products); Swiss armament producers, such as Oerlikon (known for multibarrel antiaircraft guns), also sent their wares northward. Swiss rail officials cooperated completely with the Nazi government: "[T]hrough the transalpine lifeline of Switzerland's St. Gotthard rail tunnel flowed supplies between the Axis partners Germany and Italy."11 As far as rail transport was concerned, Switzerland was effectively part of the Greater German Reich.
The immorality of Swiss trade policies with respect to Germany can, perhaps, best be seen in the way the two nations collaborated together to traffic in works of art. These transactions, as with so many business deals involving Switzerland and the Reich, put Swiss businessmen in direct contact with prominent Nazis. The Lucerne art dealer Theodor Fischer, for example, who held two auctions (in June and August 1939) of modern art purged from German state museums, corresponded directly with Martin Bormann in the party Chancellery, Joseph Goebbels in the Propaganda Ministry, and Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop, among other important individuals. Furthermore, Fischer often dealt with the German art dealers who catered to the Nazi leaders, such as the Berliner Karl Haberstock. Using a favorite strategy of Swiss businessmen, Fischer entered into a partnership with a German dealer -- C. W. Bümming of Darmstadt -- which facilitated transfers of art and money between the two countries.12 Needless to say, Fischer profited handsomely from these transactions.13 Besides Swiss art dealers, other Swiss citizens and institutions also exploited the traffic in art between Switzerland and Nazi Germany. The Kunstmuseum Basel, for example, took advantage of the favorable deals engendered by the Nazis' sale of state-owned modern art. At the Lucerne auction of June 1939, the institution's director, Georg Schmidt, purchased eight works banished from German museums.14 Showing support for this sordid Nazi venture, and profiting from it, evinced a certain mindset.
As the war progressed and Switzerland emerged as one of the centers of the international art market, the Swiss dealers altered their areas of specialization to better serve their Nazi clientele. One Office of Strategic Services (OSS) report noted, for example, that "[t]he normal Swiss market had never been interesting to Goering because it offered mostly Impressionists and Modern Art. However, during the war, there appeared suddenly a large number of pictures of the German school and it was in Switzerland that he bought his best Cranachs. . . .The Swiss import taxes for works of art were almost non-existent and the prospect of payment in Swiss francs, one of the most stable currencies, made this a most attractive proposition."15 Göring's art agent, Walter Andreas Hofer, reported that "many of the objects which were proposed to him by middlemen were located in the banks, which he describes as being 'full of pictures.'"16 The collusion of Swiss bankers in this commerce with Nazi leaders should come as no surprise by this point. (Important Nazis used German officials stationed in Switzerland to transfer funds and transport objects in the diplomatic pouch. OSS investigators, for example, found that Consul Rieckman of the German legation in Bern "received funds and pictures from Berlin for delivery to Hofer in Bern. [He] also sent pictures through the diplomatic pouch to Berlin."17)
Because of the Germans' need for foreign currency and their hostility toward modern art, they were eager to dispatch impressionist and expressionist paintings to Switzerland. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of German-Swiss art trafficking involved works looted from French Jews by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (this was a plundering unit, under the leadership of the Nazi "philosopher" Alfred Rosenberg, that stole cultural property from "enemies" of National Socialism throughout occupied Europe18). Paintings belonging to the dealer Paul Rosenberg, as well as to such prominent families as the Rothschilds, Levy-Benzions, Kanns, and Lindenbaums, were traded to Swiss dealers for more ideologically acceptable old masters and German nineteenth-century paintings. One transaction, in 1942, involved Göring and his agent Hofer, and the Swiss dealer Hans Wendland. Göring received Rembrandt's Portrait of an Old Man with a Beard and two sixteenth-century Flemish tapestries in exchange for 28 impressionist and postimpressionist works, 16 of which came from Paul Rosenberg's plundered collection. The works traded by Göring included paintings by Corot, Degas, Renoir, Van Gogh, and Seurat. It should be stated that this deal violated Swiss laws. It should also be stated that these laws were frequently ignored by Swiss citizens -- by corrupt art dealers, to be sure, but also by others. OSS reports detailed the illicit trafficking in art by such prominent Swiss as Herr Buerhle, the primary owner of the Oerlikon armaments factory.19
The financial transactions involving Switzerland and the Third Reich's looted gold, and Swiss banks and the deposited assets of Jewish Holocaust victims, are treated elsewhere in this issue of Dimensions, and will not be discussed in this article, except to note that Swiss bankers accepted deposits from Nazi leaders of vast sums of both currency and gold. Hitler appears to have placed revenues derived from the sale of Mein Kampf in a Swiss bank, and a December 10, 1941 report from the British embassy in Washington to the U.S. Treasury Department noted that "every leading member of the governing groups in all the Axis countries have funds in Switzerland. Some have fortunes."20 A Nazi official responsible for foreign exchanges estimated after the war that German assets worth 15 billion Reichsmarks entered Switzerland.21 Some of these assets were expropriated from Jews who perished in the Holocaust, and some of the gold sent to Switzerland was looted from the reserves of conquered European countries.
Sweden, like Switzerland, was also deeply concerned about possible German aggression (especially after the occupation of Denmark and Norway, and Finland's entry into the war on the side of the Axis). Some of its policies toward the Reich are open to criticism, but the Swedes acted commendably by providing a safe haven for Danish Jews, and they gradually extricated themselves from Germany's political and economic network after 1943. Judging Sweden by the three categories used to judge Switzerland -- border policies, trade and finance -- we can assert the following. First, though the Swedes permitted the Germans to transport freight through northern Sweden, the nation's border policies were more humane than Switzerland's when it came to the question of refugees. Sweden's crowning achievement, as just noted, was to permit nearly 8,000 Jewish refugees to enter in 1943, and then to protect them. Additionally, approximately 44,000 Norwegians escaped the harsh Nazi occupation of their country by being smuggled into Sweden.22 (Raoul Wallenberg's efforts to rescue Jews in Hungary in 1944 -- he saved upwards of 20,000 Jews from deportation and death by providing them with Swedish passports -- also helped maintain his nation's honor. The Swiss counterpart of Wallenberg was Carl Lutz, who also worked as a diplomat in Budapest during the war and saved Jewish lives by providing protective passports; but Lutz was reprimanded by his government "for having overstepped his authority."23)
However, when it came to trade with the Nazi regime, the Swedes, for a period of time, accommodated themselves to the Reich to an even greater extent than the Swiss did. The Swedish economy was, for a number of years, almost fully integrated into the Nazis' New Order; the country supplied Germany with high-grade iron ore (30 percent of that used by the German armaments industry), as well as ball bearings, foodstuffs, wood, and many other raw materials. In matters of finance, the Swedes cooperated with Germany by providing credit, which allowed the delivery of vast quantities of military equipment to the Wehrmacht. Moreover, after the war, the Swedish central bank, the Riksbank, "examined gold it had received from the Nazis in payment for exports and returned about 13 tons that presumably had been stolen [from] Belgium and the Netherlands."24
The Swedes believed, at least for the first years of the war, that cooperation with Germany was necessary to preserve a precarious neutrality. But after 1943 the Swedish government, heeding Allied warnings about neutrals doing business with Germany, detached the country from the German "political and commercial web," and gradually established closer ties with the Allies.25 There is no doubt that for several years Sweden put its considerable economic resources at the disposal of the Reich; but its behavior in the latter stages of the war removed much of the stigma of collaboration.
The Role of Portugal
Portugal is geographically farther from Germany than are Switzerland and Sweden, but the country and its colonies were still very vulnerable to pressure from the Reich. Moreover, the authoritarian Portuguese dictator, António de Oliveira Salazar, was sympathetic to the Axis powers (especially after siding with Franco in the Spanish Civil War). These factors resulted in considerable collaboration between Portugal and Nazi Germany. Salazar provided shipments of tungsten to the Third Reich that were important for the German armaments industry, and allowed German espionage agents to operate in his country. (Portugal, in fact, like Switzerland, was a hive of spying during the Second World War.)
Because Salazar incorporated many facets of fascism into his government -- including corporatist social and economic policies, the debasement of democracy and parliament, an extensive secret police, and a ban on strikes -- he was viewed favorably by Hitler and Mussolini, as well as by Spain's General Franco. He used that approval to obtain financial profit. While the exact amount of that profit is difficult to determine, there are clues that convey its value. The 44 tons of German gold which the United States wanted Portugal to surrender at war's end (going so far, to compel agreement, as to freeze Portuguese assets in the U.S.) is a case in point.26
Despite his ties to the Axis nations, Salazar also, at times, cooperated with the Allies. He leased bases in the Azores to the British, and he permitted many refugees who escaped the Nazis to travel through Lisbon, Portugal's capital.
General Francisco Franco of Spain was another leader whose ideological sympathies with National Socialism led him to the brink of a close alliance with the Reich. Like Salazar, however, he refrained from completely crossing that line. In March 1939, Spain concluded the Anti-Comintern Pact with Nazi Germany (it augmented the secret treaties for diplomatic and economic cooperation of March and July 1937). And as of June 13, 1940, Franco moved Spain from neutrality to nonbelligerency, which reflected unambiguous sympathy for the Axis. Yet he kept Spain out of the war, while pursuing a program of self-interested collaboration. Despite a concerted effort on the part of Hitler (most noticeably in a meeting between the two dictators and various ministers in October 1940) to persuade Franco to provide full-scale military support to the Axis side, the Spanish dictator refused to do so. The Generalissimo demanded colonies in French-held northwest Africa as payment for such a commitment. Hitler's unwillingness to agree -- he didn't want to alienate Vichy France and lose its resources, including the French fleet -- strongly motivated Franco's ultimate decision not to allow the Spanish armed forces to fight for the Axis. (A division of approximately 47,000 Spanish volunteers, the so-called Blue Division -- the name was derived from the unit's blue Falangist shirts -- did fight on the Eastern Front as part of the Wehrmacht.)
With respect to immigration and transmigration policies, the Spanish were similar to other neutrals: there was a general reluctance to accommodate refugees. Requirements for visas were both stringent and variable, and the Spanish bureaucracy frequently created nightmarish situations for those trying to flee the Nazis. One thinks of the distinguished German man of letters, Walter Benjamin, who committed suicide in France after being denied haven in Spain in 1940. He had climbed over the Pyrenees despite heart problems "only to learn that Spain had closed the border the same day and that the border officials did not honor visas made out in Marseille."27 Others, however, did reach safety in Spain: Heinrich and Golo Mann, Franz Werfel and Alma Mahler Werfel were among the most illustrious of these individuals. One historian has stated that 28,000 fugitives were smuggled across the French-Spanish border during the war, including 20,000 Frenchmen (many of whom later fought for De Gaulle's Free French forces28). The Spanish, then, were much like the Swiss when it came to assisting refugees: while they attempted to discourage those seeking asylum, in the end they did save a number of lives. It should also be noted that during the latter part of the war, the Allies channeled pilots and soldiers rescued from the Nazis through Spain.
As for economic and financial collaboration: Spain played a role within the Nazi New Order, but retained a certain autonomy and prevented the Germans from completely exploiting Spanish resources. At the outset of the Spanish Civil War in 1936, the Nazis, through Göring and his agent Johannes Bernhardt, had established a trading company in Spain called the Sociedad Hispano-Marroqui de Transportes (HISMA), which coordinated trade in a manner advantageous to the Germans.29 In return for German arms, Franco eventually provided valuable mineral resources and other raw materials to the Reich. By the end of the Spanish Civil War and the onset of World War II, Franco had incurred significant debts to the Germans and this increased Hitler's leverage over the Generalissimo. On December 22, 1939, Spain and Germany signed a treaty in which Franco "agreed to reserve the greater part of [his nation's] exports for Germany, in particular iron ore, zinc, lead, mercury, wolfram, wool, and hides."30 Spain, then, contributed significantly to the German war effort, at least up to the autumn of 1942, when the Allies' military campaign in North Africa induced Franco to adopt a more cautious policy.31 However, economic relations between Spain and Germany continued until the end of the war.
Spain is also comparable to Switzerland in that the Germans made use of it as a repository for assets. (The relative volume, however, was in no way comparable: the Reich made far greater use of Switzerland than of Spain.) Late in the war, when the outcome of the conflict looked increasingly bleak for the Axis, Göring, Bormann, and other Nazi leaders dispatched assets, including works of art, to Spain, hoping to preserve them for future use. After the war, investigative journalists claimed to have uncovered a project, overseen by Martin Bormann and code-named Tierra del Fuego, which entailed sending Nazi assets to South America. This scheme, if in fact true, involved using Spain as part of the pipeline.32 The smuggling of assets is difficult to document with any precision. But it occurred, and Spain -- like Switzerland -- figured in the Nazis' schemes.
It must be stressed that in Switzerland -- and in the other neutral continental countries -- there were many who opposed the Third Reich and acted in a humane -- even self-sacrificing -- manner. As noted above, the Swiss did provide sanctuary for some individuals fleeing the Nazis. The Swiss authorities intervened on occasion to prevent business dealings which they knew or suspected to be unlawful. Göring's art dealer, Walter Andreas Hofer, for example, was denied an entry visa in May 1944 (the grounds were not specified -- only that "entrance cannot be granted in view of the present circumstances"33). The Swiss were also determined to thwart spying by Nazi Germany: 17 citizens were executed for passing military secrets to the Reich.34 However, Switzerland served as a Continental base for Allied businessmen and spies. Moreover, Allen Dulles and his colleagues in the Office of Strategic Services could not have operated as effectively as they did in Switzerland without the support of many Swiss nationals. Colonel Max Waibel, for example, helped Dulles innumerable times -- for instance, during the negotiations concerning the German surrender in Italy.35
It seems clear that even now, many Swiss cannot, in effect, acknowledge the disquieting aspects of their nation's wartime behavior. Consider the recent statement by the Swiss envoy Thomas Borer in December 1996 to the U.S. Congressional Committee on Banking and Financial Services: "The Swiss have a reputation for being no-nonsense people, attached to values of hard work and exacting precision. There lies in our national character a strong preference for realism over fantasy, for compromise rather than ideology. Having said that, however, there has never been any lack of idealism in the land of the Red Cross, the Geneva Conventions, and of the European headquarters of the United Nations. They serve as an acknowledgment of the tolerance and understanding that have long been part of the fabric of Swiss society. Among many other such examples stands the fact that almost a century ago Theodor Herzl convened the first Zionist Congress on Swiss territory, in the city of Basel."36 Implicit in this assertion is the suggestion that Switzerland could not, would not, have acted less than admirably during the war. Another description of Switzerland's sense of its own national identity was provided by the New York Times journalist Roger Cohen: "The neutral state stood in the middle between the globe's conflicting forces. It connoted a certain decency, cold and formal perhaps, but incompatible with the concealment of Nazi plunder or other skullduggery."37 And still another journalist has described Switzerland's conception of itself: "a proud neutral country -- founder of the Red Cross, defender of democratic values, oasis of peace and multiethnic harmony."38
This sense of themselves helps explain why the Swiss have been so stung by the recent denunciations aimed at their country's wartime and postwar activities (criticism involving the latter revolves around the reluctance of Swiss financial institutions to return the assets of Holocaust victims to heirs). For example, Switzerland's recent ambassador to the United States, Carlo Jagmetti, has said, concerning the current scandal over his nation's wartime banking practices: "This is a war which Switzerland must conduct on the foreign and domestic front and must win."39 Besides the anti-Semitic undertones of Ambassador Jagmetti's statement (he was referring to Jews as the opponents in this war), his views evince a reluctance to engage Swiss history in an honest manner.40 Of course, Switzerland is not the only nation with a problematic relation to its past; the reader will not be surprised to learn that Sweden, Spain and Portugal are also afflicted with the same conundrum. The moral ambiguities and divided political loyalties of the past make for histories which are difficult to master. But it is time for Switzerland, Sweden, Portugal and Spain to acknowledge that there were no truly neutral countries on the European continent during World War II. It is now time for those four nations to acknowledge that they were part of the Nazis' New Order and that they bear some responsibility for the tragic history of the Thirties and Forties.
1. The Vatican, because it lacked an industrial infrastructure and had supraterritorial claims, will not be considered in this article. Given the relative isolation of neutral Ireland, and its nugatory trade relations with Germany, this noncontinental country will not be discussed here, either. Finally, Turkey, which borders Europe and was also neutral until March 1, 1945, falls outside the scope of this article.
2. Donald Waters, Hitler's Secret Ally: Switzerland (Pertinent Publications, 1992).
3. Alan Cowell, "Swiss Begin to Question Heroism in War," the New York Times (February 8, 1997).
4. Thomas Sancton, "A Painful History," Time (February 24, 1997), 41.
6. Alfred Häsler, The Lifeboat is Full: Switzerland and the Refugees, 1933-1945 (Funk and Wagnalls, 1969). Note that Häsler, despite a critical portrayal of Swiss immigration policies, cites a figure of 28,500 Jews who were given sanctuary, a number somewhat higher than that published in the New York Times above, in note 3.
7. This tradition of asylum was evident in World War I, when, among other "dangerous men," Lenin, Trotsky, Zinoviev, and Mussolini found refuge in Switzerland. See Jonathan Steinberg, Why Switzerland? (Cambridge U.P., 1976), 40. For more on the end of this tradition of sanctuary, see Werner Mittenzwei, Exil in der Schweiz (Frankfurt a.M.: Roderberg, 1981).
8. Note that until 1879, Jews were permitted to live in only two villages in all of Switzerland: Lengnau and Endingen, in the northeastern part of the country.
9. Günter Lachmann, Der Nationalsozialismus in der Schweiz, 1931-1945 (Berlin: Ernst Reuter Gesellschaft, 1962), 80-86. See also Beat Glaus, Die Nationale Front: Eine Schweizer faschistische Bewegung, 1930-1940 (Zurich: Benziger, 1969).
10. Some Swiss, especially those in the Italian-speaking cantons, leaned toward Fascist Italy; while within the French zone, a movement called Helvétisme, which some have compared to L'Action francaise, appealed to some Swiss intellectuals. See Steinberg, Why Switzerland?, 38.
11. Lance Morrow, "The Justice of the Calculator," Time (February 24, 1997), 45.
12. S. Lane Faison, Consolidated Interrogation Report No. 4. Linz: Hitler's Museum and Library (OSS report of September 15, 1945), 48, 67.
13. Fischer arranged a system of sliding commissions, ranging from 15 to seven percent. Stephanie Barron, "The Galerie Fischer Auction," in Stephanie Barron, ed., Degenerate Art: The Fate of the Avant-Garde in Nazi Germany (Abrams, 1991), 138.
14. Ibid., 143.
15. Theodore Rousseau, Consolidated Interrogation Report No. 2: The Goering Collection (OSS report, September 15, 1945), 110.
17. Ibid., 23.
18. Ibid., 133-136.
19. Ibid., 136.
20. Johanna McGeary, "Echoes of the Holocaust," Time (February 24, 1997), 39.
22. Werner Rings, Life with the Enemy: Collaboration and Resistance in Hitler's Europe, 1939-1945 (Doubleday, 1982), 174.
23. Quoted from Heinz Meier and Regula Meier, Switzerland (Oxford: Clio, 1990), 87. For a critical treatment of the Swiss and the International Red Cross in Budapest, see Arieh Ben-Tov, Facing the Holocaust in Budapest: The International Committee of the Red Cross and the Jews in Hungary (Geneva: Henry Dunant Institute, 1988). See also Alexander Grossman, Nur das Gewissen. Carl Lutz und seine Budapester Aktion: Geschichte und Porträt (Wald: Im Waldgut, 1986).
24. Associated Press wire, "Report: Sweden Accepted More Nazi Gold Than Previously Known" (January 21, 1997).
25. Christian Zentner and Friedemann Bedürftig, The Encyclopedia of the Third Reich (Macmillan, 1991), 939.
26. Roger Cohen, "The (Not So) Neutrals of World War II," the New York Times (January 26, 1997), Section 4, 14.
27. Anthony Heilbut, Exiled in Paradise: German Refugee Artists and Intellectuals in America from the 1930s to the Present (Beacon Press, 1983), 38.
28. Rings, Life with the Enemy, 174.
29. Robert Whealey, Hitler and Spain: The Nazi Role in the Spanish Civil War (University of Kentucky, 1989), 72-74.
30. Norman Rich, Hitler's War Aims: Ideology, the Nazi State, and the Course of Expansion (Norton, 1973), 166.
31. Rich, 141.
32. Paul Manning, Martin Bormann (Stuart, 1981), 207.
33 Rousseau, Consolidated Interrogation Report No. 2, Attachment 47: document titled "Refusal of Entrance and Residence Permit."
34. Karl Lüönd, Spionage und Landesverrat in der Schweiz (Zurich: Ringier, 1977), and Peter Noll, Landesverräter. 17 Lebensläufe und Todesurteile, 1942-1944 (Stuttgart: Huber, 1980).
35. Allen Dulles, The Secret Surrender (Harper & Row, 1966).
36. Thomas Borer, "Opening Remarks of Ambassador Thomas Borer Before the Committee on Banking and Financial Services" (December 11, 1996).
37. Cohen, "The (Not So) Neutrals," 7.
38. Thomas Sancton, "A Painful History," Time (February 24, 1997), 41.
39. David Sanger, "Swiss Envoy to U.S. Resigns; He urged 'War' Over Holocaust-Fund Dispute," the New York Times (January 28, 1997).
40. For more on contemporary Swiss anti-Semitism, see Cathryn Prince, "In the Birthplace of Zionism, Jews Still Face Anti-Semitism," Christian Science Monitor (February 19, 1997), 6.
Jonathan Petropoulos is professor of history at Claremont-McKenna College, in California. He is the author of Art and Politics in the Third Reich, and coeditor of A User's Guide to German Cultural Studies.
This article originally appeared in Dimensions, Vol 11, No 1, 1997
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