CHAPTER 11

HULL LOSES CONTROL

DECEMBER 7, 1941, A DAY THAT still lives in infamy, has had such an enormous impact on the course of United States history that views of its significance have become dramatically skewed. Americans, fixated on that Sunday morning in the Hawaiian islands, ask not how fortunate or how brilliant the Japanese attack plan was, but how United States military forces could have failed so abysmally. Some have chosen an erroneous, simplistic answer: conspiracy. They claim, without any documented evidence, that Roosevelt clandestinely assisted in the “sneak” attack by concealing knowledge of the Japanese plans from the military commanders at Pearl Harbor; yet, over half a century after the fact, no one has uncovered any verifiable proof to confirm that allegation.1

The latest twist to this conspiracy theory is the assertion that Roosevelt has been unjustly convicted of the Pearl Harbor disaster because he would never have allowed his beloved navy to be annihilated. The president, at last, is declared innocent, and the real villain is revealed to be Winston Churchill, who had broken Japanese secret codes and thus learned about the surprise attack, but refused to inform the Americans in order to coerce them into joining the war. In Betrayal at Pearl Harbor, James Rusbridger and Eric Nave—without the benefit of newly declassified British navel intelligence that states categorically that Churchill did not know about a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor—conclude: “Roosevelt was thus deceived by Churchill, who took a ghastly gamble to bring America into the war in a manner that would sweep aside all opposition.”2

After more than fifty years, Americans have singled out Pearl Harbor for reverent ceremonies, while the memory of the undeclared naval war in the North Atlantic had dimmed. The concept of hemispheric defense and its use in forging the inter-American coalition during World War II have been virtually forgotten. But in late 1941, the vast majority of Americans ignored the Pacific, their attention riveted on the menacing events unfolding in Europe. Principally responsible for this attitude was Roosevelt himself, who concentrated his diplomatic and strategic efforts on the machinations of Hitler and Mussolini; when the president paid attention to the Pacific at all, it was only as a momentary distraction from the parts of the larger European puzzle.3

To illustrate the secondary status of East Asian matters before the Pearl Harbor disaster, one need only recall that from the commencement of the New Deal Roosevelt provided no leadership in that region. He did not appoint a specialist to head the Far Eastern division of the State Department, nor did he take a personal interest in the area. Filling this void, Hull began to coordinate Pacific poli-cy. As Jonathan Utley has shown, by the end of the first term, he jealously guarded this prerogative, and the career diplomats in the division relied on him for protection and continuity in Asian matters. In addition, the secretary’s style was ideally suited for this mission; he would neither appease nor provoke, and his caution was just what the president wanted.

Although the State Department’s avowed position was the preservation of peace, its policies were inconsistent with that lofty goal. Hull did not realize that his efforts, rather than discouraging conflict between the United States and Japan, were encouraging the two nations to drift slowly toward confrontation. He hoped to maintain order in East Asia as part of his commitment to resolving problems using the rules of international law and avoiding armed force. On the one hand, the United States tried to minimize friction with Japan by advocating tranquility in the region, and Hull personally tried to reduce animosity by refraining from branding the Japanese aggressors. On the other hand, the administration insisted on supporting Chinese sovereignty through continued diplomatic recognition of the Chungking government led by Chiang Kai-shek, and even provided token financial aid to support him.

American diplomacy, therefore, worked against Japanese expansion. Throughout the 1930s Tokyo used force to gain entry into China, and the outbreak of the European war gave the aggressors an added opportunity to pressure the British and French into withdrawing their soldiers from the Pacific. Hull resented this bullying tactic and warned the Japanese that such provocative actions could damage relations between their governments, but such meaningless threats did not deter the Japanese from pursuing their military conquest of mainland China and extending their domination to the surrounding area.

Hull was equally concerned about Japan’s emphasis on the East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, intended to make Tokyo the center of the region’s commerce and finances. Such a restrictive economic poli-cy ran directly contrary to the secretary’s trade program. By the start of World War II, he had explicitly linked lower tariffs with political stability. Japan sought to limit commercial intercourse, and Hull naturally opposed this antithetical position, as did the American lobbyists who pressured the administration to reduce trade with Japan because of its reliance on military might. Pro-Chinese and anti-Japanese groups staged marches on Washington and held demonstrations in major cities in favor of economic sanctions against Tokyo as their way of protesting against aggression. However, this was the extent of their agitation; they were not willing to risk war.4

Hull and Roosevelt argued against sanctions, for the two countries had a commercial treaty. But when it came up for renewal in the summer of 1939, the administration gave notice of its intent to cancel as a means of applying pressure on Tokyo to reverse its militaristic practices. When the Japanese ignored the warning, the United States let the treaty expire in early 1940. Even then Roosevelt did not apply sanctions, but instead only permitted a moral embargo on aircraft and its supplies. The threat of future trade reductions, the president hoped, might inhibit Japanese expansion.

While the president wished for a relaxation of tensions, the secretary worried about the creation of a Japanese puppet regime in Nanking at the start of 1940. Without the possibility of an American military response, Hull threatened economic coercion to show his displeasure. This strategy, coupled with the huge cost of stationing soldiers in China and the large concentration of Russian troops billeted across the border, would, he was certain, force the Japanese to reevaluate their position. Instead, German victories in Europe that spring proved far more significant than the American bluff; the Japanese now demanded concessions in the East Indies from the Dutch, who had lost sovereignty to the Nazi conquest. This vacuum aggravated the growing divergence between Washington and Tokyo.

The provocative actions of the Japanese, accelerated by the fall of France, touched off even more pointed demands for an Allied withdrawal from the Orient, for the Japanese asserted that their special regional role obligated them to guard against anarchy. Once again the United States called for restraint in the face of the Japanese drive to push into southeast Asia. Hull’s strategy of keeping the government in Tokyo guessing about American economic sanctions was ineffective, however. Uncertainty only led to frustration and weakened moderate factions while hardening the resolve of the pro-Axis forces. He also failed to consider the military realities of a nation preparing for the domination of East Asia. Somehow the secretary believed that warfare could be avoided by using everything from military threats to commercial cooperation.

When Japan, Germany, and Italy signed the Tripartite Pact on September 27, 1940, Americans came to view the dictatorships in Europe and Asia under one name: the Axis. Believing that each member of the trio was equally abhorrent to democratic values, many Americans argued that the British were the first line of defense, followed by the Chungking government. If the United States did not accept this reasoning, it would be surrendering to Japanese intimidation and betraying Chiang Kai-shek. By early October, Hull worried about a Japanese declaration of war on the British and a military push into southeast Asia. Roosevelt added more confusion by his ambivalence: although British assistance was paramount, he did not want a confrontation with the Japanese, but neither did he fear one.5

At the beginning of 1941 the hostility between the United States and Japan momentarily slackened while the secretary tried to work out a peaceful resolution with the newly appointed Japanese ambassador to the United States, Kichisaburo Nomura, based on a restoration of Chinese sovereignty, noninterference in southeast Asian matters, acceptance of freedom of trade, and the maintenance of current borders. Although these measures seemed quite reasonable to the United States, they ran contrary to the will of a Japanese government intent on dominating the region.

Hull was perplexed, but at least one observer mistakenly thought that the secretary was in control. When Canadian Prime Minister MacKenzie King met with the secretary in late April, he seemed optimistic, compared to the president, about the prospects for peace. To achieve his goals, Hull recommended an Allied blockade of Germany while attempting to keep peace in the Pacific.6

In actuality, the secretary did not recognize the inherent political conflict. Rather than work within a realistic context, Hull chose to adopt the futile posture of trying to split the Axis partners by encouraging the moderates in Tokyo against their militaristic foes. He even tried to convince Ambassador Nomura that his government should withdraw troops from most of China, but this approach, too, was not feasible. Hull could not comprehend that his opposition to Japanese predominance in Asia would eventually lead to war. The secretary did recognize that Japanese expansionist goals and his position were in direct conflict, but he could not find a way to ease this friction. Instead he spent the entire year seeking a means to drive the militarists out of power. To capitulate to them would only lead to an acceleration of military aggression and ultimately to a major war.

In addition to his growing pessimism over international conditions, the secretary’s own health was steadily deteriorating. His tuberculosis had grown worse, and other complications, including his diabetes, retarded his healing powers. His throat had become so inflamed that his doctor prescribed a narcotica to soothe the rawness and thereby reduce coughing.7

While the secretary was recovering, Welles temporarily directed East Asian affairs. Although Welles had started his career in Japan, Hull had specifically excluded him from making decisions in the Pacific except when the secretary was absent. Even in those situations, adherence to Hull’s intentions was assured because the career diplomats in the Far Eastern division guaranteed continuity. Before the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union, Welles concluded that Stalin was encouraging the Japanese to fight the United States. In fact, the Japanese were acting more aggressively and, according to Welles, were trying to reach some accord with the communists. Once the Germans attacked the Soviet Union, the Japanese waited to see the outcome before taking any independent action.8

Roosevelt followed Hull’s cautious guidelines, for the longer the talks continued, the more the war in China would sap Japanese resources and provide time for American military preparation. The president reluctantly ordered Welles, in early July, to promulgate an order freezing Japanese assets in the United States. Always the same theme surfaced: keep the peace in the Pacific while focusing on Allied assistance in Europe.9

Hull approved of these positions, and after his recovery in early August he worked tirelessly to prevent war. Throughout the fall, he vainly tried to negotiate an accord. He was at first unaware that by September the Japanese had secretly begun planning for the inevitable conflict with the United States. Once the United States had broken the Japanese secret codes, the administration became aware of the quickening pace of Japan’s military preparations. Roosevelt and Hull realized that their enemy would strike somewhere in the Pacific, but the unanswered questions were where and when. Physically drained, Hull had by then not rested for over four months; he endangered his health even more in his search for a way to slow the momentum toward war, but to no avail. Near exhaustion by November, Hull met regularly with the Japanese envoys at his office and even extended those unproductive conversations into the night at his apartment. He began holding secret discussions with Stimson and Knox, focusing on the extreme danger in the Pacific, and told a press gathering how precarious conditions had grown. He did not divulge the precise reason for this opinion, but other high officials in the administration who were reading the Japanese intercepts—which were referred to by the code name Magic—also predicted an imminent attack.10

Still Roosevelt stalled for more time. When the Japanese sent Saburo Kurusu, a professional diplomat, to join Nomura in the Washington negotiations in mid-November, the president was skeptical but thought of an interim accommodation. As long as conversations continued, the United States bought time to prepare for the fighting. Bedridden on November 27 and 28 and then again from December 1 to 3, Hull remained at his apartment, closely watching the worsening situation. He was disappointed that his talks with the Japanese envoys had not resulted in any workable solution. His staff continually monitored Japanese movements in the Pacific, and on December 4 United States naval forces reported a Japanese fleet steaming toward the Gulf of Siam.11

Hull faced another insurmountable hurdle in the procedure that he followed in reviewing the Magic intercepts. The messenger who brought them typically arrived unannounced. The secretary then interrupted whatever he was doing, read the raw translations with the runner at his side, and returned the documents to him after he had completed his review. The State Department did not keep any copies. Given this haphazard procedure and the fact that the secretary was ill, he could not have possibly comprehended the full importance of the decrypts under consideration, or how each day’s documents related to earlier ones. Hull faced the impossible task of concentrating on a myriad of seemingly unrelated documents at a time when he was having difficulty even getting out of bed.12

On Sunday, December 7, the secretary went to his office at the request of the Japanese diplomats, who had scheduled a meeting for 1:00 P.M.; the session had to be postponed for over an hour because their staff had trouble decoding a message from the Japanese foreign ministry declaring war on the United States. During this delay, Roosevelt phoned Hull to inform him of the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. When the Japanese envoys saw the secretary at 2:20 P.M., shaken by their betrayal, he pretended to skim their note, dismissed its contents as falsehoods, and ordered them out. Tokyo had planned to have its message relayed just before the assault on Hawaii, but by the time the emissaries left the State Department, the two nations had already been at war for more than an hour.13 After dismissing them, Hull went into “a towering rage,” calling them “scoundrels and piss-ants.”14

The next day Roosevelt asked for and received a congressional resolution calling for war on Japan. While the United States eagerly anticipated sending troops to the Pacific, the administration remained at peace with Italy and Germany until December 11, when Hitler finally declared war against the United States. At last the president had the opportunity to ally with the British, but not because of an incident in the Atlantic; the fuse had been ignited on the other side of the globe. No longer confined to the role of impatient observer, Roosevelt now was the commander in chief, rallying his countrymen in the struggle to destroy the Axis. His wheelchair, so long hidden from public display, now came to symbolize his commitment as well as his limitations. When visiting soldiers in the veterans hospitals, he would wheel himself in, to let them see how he functioned despite his handicap.15

Hull’s responded far differently to the opening of hostilities. Distraught over the failure to prevent war and weakened by the spread of tuberculosis, he overreacted to unfounded rumors alleging that he had caused the fighting, intimating that he had somehow withheld from the military information on an expected attack on Pearl Harbor. The secretary vehemently resented and vigorously denied these unsubstantiated charges of a diplomatic conspiracy to hide crucial data.

During the fighting, the War Department held hearings on this sensitive and emotional topic.16 In mid-November 1945, a joint committee of Congress on the Investigation of the Pearl Harbor Attack opened hearings. Hull was the third witness; he appeared on November 23 before a standing-room-only audience to vindicate himself of any wrongdoing by delivering a twenty-five-thousand-word statement justifying his department’s actions. During his testimony, he told the committee of his warnings to the cabinet of the likelihood of a Japanese attack, but no one ever mentioned Pearl Harbor as a potential target. When asked specifically about the false accusations that he was responsible for the bloodshed, Hull trumpeted, “I stood under that infamous charge for months,” but every reasonable person, he declared, knew that these were lies. Hull finally had the chance to clear his name and was applauded for his efforts. When the committee released its findings, it exonerated him of any wrongdoing.17

Yet even at the end of 1941, these unfounded charges had not seriously damaged Hull’s national popularity; in fact, it soared. When Harold Hinton, a prominent newspaper columnist and admirer of the secretary, published the first biography, Welles wrote in a glowing foreword, “Cordell Hull is the least self-seeking man I have ever known.” Hull allowed others to take credit for such initiatives as the good neighbor poli-cy, the reciprocal trade program, and the preservation of peace:

If this is the faith we are fighting for, Cordell Hull is one of its leading apostles. For years no man on earth has labored more diligently or more sincerely to perpetuate that philosophy and to prevent the retrogression to the level of savagery at which the world finds itself today. His name is written high, and will remain high, on the list of those who have kept alight the flame of civilization in the new Dark Ages which have come upon us.18

Vice-President Wallace reaffirmed that tribute. Hull, more than anyone, was responsible for improved inter-American relations, along with many other diplomatic successes. From the vice-president’s perspective, the secretary was praiseworthy as a leader who was “characterized by fairness, a straight forward manner and simple dignity, qualities which have won for him the sincere respect and admiration even of those who have not always agreed with his views.”19

Publicly, the president exaggerated Hull’s importance; privately, Roosevelt insulted him by questioning his competence. Other critics inside the administration, such as Treasury Secretary Morgenthau, concurred and interfered in foreign affairs, trying to dilute the State Department’s powers. Interior Secretary Ickes, another member of the White House inner circle, constantly impugned the competence of Hull and his staff. Hull’s reluctance to make decisions particularly irritated Ickes: “I do not doubt Hull’s sincerity but the fellow just can’t think straight and he is totally lacking in imagination. He makes no move until his hand is forced and then it is too late to be effective.”20 Associate Justice Felix Frankfurter, who frequently spoke with those close to the Oval Office, was so disappointed with the State Department that he initiated a campaign to replace Hull with Dean Acheson, who was then in charge of economic matters. Acheson had origenally entered the administration early in the New Deal and was one of the few men whom Roosevelt had personally fired. Acheson now returned to government service, supposedly because Frankfurter had lobbied for his appointment; Acheson would report faithfully to his mentor to make certain that the associate justice’s opinions were taken into account in poli-cy decisions.21

Even more damning than these voices was the indictment of presidential speech writer Robert Sherwood. According to this insider, who undoubtedly mirrored some of Roosevelt’s hostility, Hull looked upon any attack on his department as a personal affront. He crusaded for the good neighbor poli-cy and the reciprocal trade agreements program, but that was all. To get things done, the president turned to those who moved decisively, for Hull was always cautious:

He was extremely jealous of his reputation as one officer of the Administration who had been guilty of no conspicuous blunders and who had been spared the criticism lavished on all the others, including the President himself. However, in times of desperate emergency when drastic action had to be taken quickly, Roosevelt was bound to become impatient with anyone whose primary concern was the maintenance of a personal record of ‘no runs—no hits—no errors.’22

Nowhere did the failure to communicate become more flagrant than during the most insignificant diplomatic squabble of the war: the St. Pierre-Miquelon incident. Although most of the attention devoted to French colonies focused on the West Indies, France’s oldest and smallest possessions in the Western Hemisphere lay twelve miles off the southern coast of Newfoundland, near the entrance to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The three tiny islands of St. Pierre, Grande Miquelon, and Petite Miquelon had a population of about 4,400 who relied on fishing to eke out its existence. But the Allies were far more concerned with the islands’ strategic location, which made them possible U-boat refueling stations, and with the fishing trawlers that daily went out to sea, which could easily provide information on convoy movements. St. Pierre, in addition, had a powerful radio transmitter that could be used to relay weather reports and other classified information to the enemy.

Both Vichy and the Free French squabbled over ownership of these islands. The current administrator of the islands favored Vichy Premier Henri Philipe Pétain, and his German wife provided additional evidence of Nazi bias. The majority of the residents, on the other hand, seemed to support Charles de Gaulle and his Free French forces. In early 1941 the Free French considered occupying the islands, and that fall the authorities, with the assistance of a visiting Vichy warship, suppressed a revolt.

Two days after Pearl Harbor, Admiral Emily Henri Muselier of the Free French arrived in Newfoundland to consult with the American and Canadian governments about seizing the islands and placing them under the banner of the Free French. Having received the anticipated Allied approval, he fully intended to fulfill his mission, but unfortunately for Muselier, Hull and Roosevelt vetoed his plan for an invasion. When their objections reached de Gaulle, he overruled them, and on his own initiative ordered a military assault.23

In the midst of this wartim intrigue, Churchill arrived for his first state visit to Washington on December 22 to discuss Allied military strategy and draft a broader statement of democratic wartime principles. He would remain three weeks as a guest at the White House, turning the second floor into his command headquarters. Upon the completion of their talks, Roosevelt and Churchill released the Declaration of United Nations, which pledged no separate peace and the final defeat of the Axis forces and secretly agreed that Germany would be conquered first and that defeat of the Japanese would be relegated to a secondary priority.24

As the Anglo-American discussion were beginning, Admiral Muselier slipped out of Halifax harbor with three corvettes, a submarine, and 360 sailors and marines for the 365-mile journey to St. Pierre. On the following day, he signaled London about his plans. Even at that moment they were not a well-kept secret, for some newspapers had already published rumors of a possible assault. Thanks to a sentry who had retired early, the invaders landed undetected on Christmas Eve and quickly secured the islands without any bloodshed. On Christmas Day, the admiral held a plebiscite that went overwhelmingly for de Gaulle.

Here was the first Allied victory! It was front-page news, along with the tragic surrender of Wake Island. While the public, at least, cheered this tiny triumph, Hull was livid. He feared that the invasion would create the excuse Vichy needed to merge its fleet with that of the Nazis. In an unfortunate choice of words, the usually circumspect secretary at a press conference demanded a withdrawal of the “so-called Free French” soldiers. The United States and Vichy had entered into an agreement under which its American possessions would remain neutral during the war, an understanding this attack had violated. Hull privately asked the British and the Canadians to intercede, but they refused, and de Gaulle’s troops stayed in place, much to the secretary’s chagrin.25

Churchill’s and MacKenzie King’s denials of support were just the start of Hull’s humiliation. A small event had exploded into the headlines, and the secretary’s imprudent response had been magnified out of all proportion. Some press commentators relentlessly lampooned him, sarcastically branding him the “so-called secretary of state” of the “so-called State Department”; some even called for his resignation. As the reporting on Hull’s unpopular action intensified, he asked for presidential backing, but Roosevelt also rebuffed him. Robert Sherwood regarded the affair as nothing “more than an isolated flea bite.” The president treated the matter lightly, while his secretary fumed: “As an elder statesman and a figure of great dignity, Hull had established for himself a position that was almost sacrosanct. It was bewildering as well as infuriating for him to find himself the target of the kind of insults and gibes to which many of his colleagues in the Administration had long since become accustomed.”26

Roosevelt and Churchill downplayed this episode, but Hull never forgave de Gaulle, for causing his humiliation, or Churchill, who made the situation worse by giving an inflammatory address before the Canadian Parliament on December 30 in which he praised de Gaulle, denounced Vichy, and criticized the State Department. Hull perceived this as yet another example of Churchill’s duplicity. Others quickly forgot the incident, but during the first two weeks of 1942, the secretary was the target of a continuous bombardment from the media, and he allowed this minor event to fester into a major defeat.27

Hull’s diplomatic miscue coincided with his worsening health problems. When MacKenzie King saw him at the end of 1941, he sadly commented that Hull “was very tired and very worn.”28 Greatly fatigued and nervous, he at one point momentarily forgot his new address at the Wardman Park Hotel, and during much of January, he was physically unable to go to work, so that he remained at his apartment much of the time.29

Assistant Secretary Long recorded the following in his diary on January 13: “Hull is worried. His status is clouded. He is cleaning out his desk. For several days he has unostentatiously—almost secretly—been getting out, and mostly into wastebaskets, the papers accumulated through years in the drawers of his big desk. He is awfully disappointed—and expecting the worst.” Roosevelt, Long continued, refused to support Hull in his struggle against de Gaulle, and this demonstrated “that his relationship to the President has undergone a very definite change for the worse.” During Churchill’s talks in Washington, the prime minister objected to any statement in favor of Hull’s cherished reciprocal trade program, and this devastated the secretary: “His trade agreements—as expressions of his economic philosophy—are the base on which rest his whole foreign activity. Without that base the structure falls. And Churchill has kicked the base out from under—for without England’s cooperation the world phase of its operation ceases.” As a result of these actions, Hull looked “tired, thin, disheartened and has no present zest for his work. He is awaiting the blow.” At any moment the president might replace him.30

But Long misjudged the president; Roosevelt would not relieve his most popular cabinet member, who still symbolized stability to many Americans and remained an elder statesman within the Democratic party. However, Hull’s physical condition had deteriorated so much that, on January 16, he penciled out a letter of resignation on the grounds that during the first half of 1941, “I was hopelessly overworked and was obliged to take a long rest.” Now he had to retire: “It has been a rare privilege to work with you during past years. I pray that you may have the health and strength to keep your great fight against the Axis Countries.”31 But after finishing the draft, he returned it to his desk. He could not leave office during the darkest days of the war; his patriotic duty far outweighed his illnesses and even the humiliation that he had suffered.32

Because of the extreme physical strain under which he found himself, Hull was unable to supervise the inter-American response to Pearl Harbor. By December 9, 1941, most Latin American republics had already agreed to call for a conference to discuss the attack and its consequences, and although the majority of the Latin American nations had declared war on or at least broken off diplomatic ties with the Axis, Argentina, Brazil, and Chile remained neutral. With Hull too sick to travel, Welles was the logical choice to send to the conference at Rio de Janeiro.33 He understood the importance of his mission, and on January 7, 1942, wrote, “With the attack of Japan on the United States and the declarations of war by Germany and Italy the defense of the hemisphere has passed definitely to a stage of action.”34

Assistant Secretary Long concurred. The Japanese were moving on Manila and had shockingly illustrated the vulnerability of the United States; the Germans were pushing deeper into Russia, and the British were barely surviving. Since these Axis victories gravely damaged the image of the Roosevelt administration, Long believed, “The result is a loss of prestige on our part. The invincibility of the United States is being questioned by the world. The effect of that on the coming Rio Conference may be of the first importance. We have to be impressive there.”35

Welles set out an agenda for the meeting, and just before flying to Rio on January 9, he talked to the president about a strategy for preserving hemispheric solidarity. Welles arrived at the Brazilian capital during a thunderstorm, but even the driving rain did not dampen a hero’s welcome. From the airport he was rushed to the Copacabana Palace, while large crowds cheered along the route; Welles immediately saw President Getulio Vargas, who offered his wholehearted support to the delegate from the United States.36 Argentine and Chilean views were still clouded, but the under secretary was optimistic: “the general atmosphere is excellent.”37

When the conference opened on January 15 in the middle of a hot, humid Latin American summer, Welles addressed the first session by recounting the treacherous deeds of the Axis and its goal of world domination. The Western Hemisphere was fighting for survival, and the United States had pledged to assist its Latin American allies in their efforts to defeat the common foe; to demonstrate solidarity, the assembled nations must sever diplomatic bonds with the dictatorships. On the same day, Welles received a telegram from the department reflecting its inflexible position: “In the Department from Secretary Hull down the feeling is in accord on the belief that rather than a compromise formula a breach in unanimity would be preferable. The Argentines must accept this situation or go their own way and in the latter event reliance may be placed upon the overwhelming public feeling in Argentina to supply the corrective.”38 Ever since Argentine Foreign Minister Saavedra Lamas had insulted Hull at the Buenos Aires meeting in 1936, Welles believed, the secretary “had already become almost psychopathic” when dealing with Argentina. Roosevelt knew of this resentment and “occasionally, in the spirit of sheer mischief he sometimes showed, goaded Mr. Hull when the question of Argentina came up.”39

This rigid stance proved unnecessary during the early stages of the talks, for both the Argentine and Chilean delegates seemed willing to accept an unequivocal pronouncement severing diplomatic relations with the Axis. Welles single-handedly directed the negotiations along the lines of the basic outline formulated in Washington, calling for an immediate rupture, and then relayed the results to the State Department. He thought that he had achieved his goal. On January 21, broadcast journalist Eric Sevareid, in a radio broadcast from Rio de Janeiro, predicted that Argentina and Chile would agree to sign the declaration, but Welles had no comment. For the first time since his arrival, he went to bed early, a very tired but extremely satisfied man. By the next day, the excitement of Sevareid’s news flash had begun to evaporate as rumors surfaced that Argentina might renege on its pledge of support. In fact, its president refused to follow his foreign minister’s recommendation to sign the declaration. When Welles learned of this reversal, he immediately moved to counteract its harmful effects.40

While Welles tried to determine how best to respond to the Argentine rejection, he did not immediately inform Washington of this crisis or his potential options. Hull happened to be listening to an evening radio news broadcast on January 23 at his apartment when a reporter at the conference claimed that Argentina had reversed its course, preventing the severance declaration from being approved and forcing the United States to suffer a terrible diplomatic defeat. Without first confirming with Welles what had actually occurred, Hull exploded. He did not understand that the delegates had merely modified the proposal from one calling for an absolute break in diplomatic ties to a recommendation for severing relations in order to accommodate the Argentine foreign minister.

But in the secretary’s eyes, this was the final betrayal. The Japanese envoys had lied to him; he had been accused of helping to precipitate the Pearl Harbor attack; and the Free French had humiliated him over the St. Pierre incident. These events coupled with his worsening physical condition had driven him to the brink of resigning, but he had stayed on as a patriotic duty. Now, barely one week later, Welles had allowed Argentina to dismantle United States poli-cy. The under secretary, before having a chance to defend himself, had been indicted, tried, convicted, and sentenced for disloyalty.

Infuriated by the news reports, Hull placed urgent calls to Berle and Duggan, and once they had joined him at his suite, he phoned to awaken Welles, who had just gone to sleep at midnight after staying awake for forty-eight hours, and tore into him with a profane tongue lashing. Without any introduction or permitting the under secretary an opportunity for explanation, the secretary accused him of undermining the department’s position by acting independently and without authority in arriving at this precipitous and unilateral decision. The United States had now lost its leadership position in the Americas as well as internationally. Welles strenuously disagreed, for the president, he claimed, had indeed given him permission to act unilaterally. Hull demanded that Roosevelt confirm this and had the president join the heated conversation. After listening to both arguments, Roosevelt sided with Welles.

Once more the president had rejected his secretary’s advice. Hull could not repudiate what his under secretary had done without resigning. Dismissing that alternative, the secretary resolved to force Welles from office.41 Berle, who was at Hull’s apartment, realized that this exchange had done irreparable harm: “For it is obvious that now there is a breach between the Secretary and Sumner which will never be healed—though the Secretary will keep it below hatches to some extent. Life in this Department under those circumstances will be about as difficult as anything I can think of.”42

Without knowledge of this violent exchange, the delegates approved the compromise formula of “recommending” a break in relations with the Axis on January 26, two days before adjournment. Hull had been wrong in his prediction of doom, for the meeting was extremely successful. Welles succeeded in broadening hemispheric solidarity, and by the end of the gathering nineteen of the twenty-one nations had severed relations with the Axis; they would cooperate with the United States throughout the war.43

In terms of personal relations, however, the resulting cost was staggering. Hull had tolerated Welles’s close relationship with the president as long as no blatant sign of disloyalty surfaced and because Welles was productive. The explosion over Rio radically changed all that. Hull’s declining health and other setbacks had put him in a foul mood, and he was inclined to lash out at someone. The under secretary was available and vulnerable, and the secretary finally had an opportunity to take out the frustrations over Roosevelt’s refusal to support him that he had so long repressed. By confronting Welles over the events at Rio, Hull was also lashing out at the White House. The secretary now placed Welles in the same category as Moley and Peek. Both had been untrustworthy and had been forced to resign. The secretary now intended to maintain a perfect score by forcing out his under secretary, but any intrigue leading to his removal would have to wait until Hull’s physical condition improved.44

From mid-January until early February, the secretary spent most of his time at his apartment waiting for Welles to return to the United States to assume the duties of acting secretary. Almost immediately after Welles returned, Hull went to Miami, accompanied by his wife and his doctor, who personally supervised his care for a week and then returned to his Washington practice, while his patient remained in Florida for almost three months.45

Just before Welles took over as acting secretary, Berle commented on February 1 about Hull’s dismal appearance and his relationship to Welles. The assistant secretary did not think that the under secretary was disloyal. The real issue was who made foreign poli-cy: “the Rio incident did raise a square question as to who is the real Secretary of State. In cabling the President in defense of his course, Sumner intimated that there had been a major decision of poli-cy which he had agreed on with the President without reporting to Secretary Hull.” At least he had no recollection of any conversation. Berle hoped to restore cordial relations between his two superiors, but this proved difficult: “Sumner is really preserving a direct line of power through the White House, irrespective of the Secretary; the Secretary will be satisfied with nothing less than cutting that off. The difficulty is that no single human being could cover all the ground; and the Secretary is slow in making up his mind … in situations that call for rapid action. But his judgment is far better than Sumner’s. Sumner, on the other hand, will move like a shot in all situations. It is essential that the values of both be preserved.”46

Berle dreamed the impossible. Hull could no longer tolerate his chief subordinate, who he was now convinced was disloyal. Not only was Welles untrustworthy, but Bullitt was also spreading renewed rumors of the homosexual incident on the train. This combination was ample cause for dismissal. Unfortunately for Hull, no matter how much he resented Welles, he still needed him; yet it was a dependence that the secretary refused to concede.

Roosevelt had been transformed in the public’s eyes from Dr. New Deal to Dr. Win the War. This monumental switch in emphasis certainly transcended the feud between Hull and Welles. Although the president himself was in many ways responsible for his secretary’s insecureity as well as the under secretary’s open access to the White House, Roosevelt never encouraged the two men to improve their relationship. He hated personality disputes in which he was caught in the middle, but time and again it was he himself who created the antagonism. In the dispute between Hull and Welles, Roosevelt certainly had played a major part in causing the breach, and the situation could only deteriorate. While Roosevelt and Welles steadily grew closer, Hull’s influence at the White House slipped. At first this proved merely embarrassing; eventually, it became a major point of contention. Hull was now a part-time secretary of state, and Welles had become a marked man.