In historic times, life imitates art and back again

“The history of the world is but the biography of great men,” wrote the 19th-century Scottish historian and pundit Thomas Carlyle. Academic historians long ago threw the Great Man theory of history onto the junk pile. (There was never, alas, a Great Woman theory.) In truth, though, biographies of great, or at least noteworthy, figures are a good way of attracting readers and encouraging them to grapple with key issues in our past, and potentially our present. The both critical and commercial success of Ron Chernow’s biographies of Ulysses S. Grant, Alexander Hamilton, and George Washington is a case in point. And the contemporary relevance of such works seems beyond dispute.

For those like me, however, who are hesitant to tackle a 900-page book just now, recent films and television also provide stimulating portraits of important historical figures.  There is of course the Churchill of “Darkest Hour,” standing up to treasonous, pro-German members of the British upper classes, putting his trust in the honor, solidarity, and courage of the British man and woman in the street.

{mosads}For those who see the current political climate as dominated by fear, and by the leveraging of our differences for personal political gain, Churchill’s vow that “we shall fight on the beaches” remains deeply moving. (FDR’s admonition that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” for that matter, certainly beats anxiety-inducing references to “American carnage.”)

Starting with last year’s first season, “The Crown” has shown us a Queen Elizabeth totally defined by duty to her country, with an almost annoying spirit of self-sacrifice, and remarkable humility, to the point where the script, in a Season 2 episode, has the Queen define herself as “a simple Christian.” It rings true, and is in fact consistent with her actual public statements. Was scriptwriter Peter Morgan perhaps thinking of how, in the current political environment, some national leaders seek and relish ostentation, rather than feeling discomfort at having it thrust upon them?

But it is a secondary character in “The Crown” who, regrettably, may be the most contemporary of the lot. In the aforementioned episode, the duke of Windsor, Elizabeth’s uncle David, who ruled as King Edward VIII for most of 1936, resurfaces in the latter 1950s from his golden exile in France. He had abdicated the throne in order to marry his American lover Wallis Simpson, who was divorced, making her an unacceptable spouse for the titular head of the Church of England.

The Duke is portrayed as bored and discontented with a life of card games, constant over-dressing, and lavish birthday parties for his pugs, and his stated objective is to return, in some capacity, to the service of his country. Elizabeth, however, after much soul-searching, decides that her uncle’s history of sympathy for Nazi Germany is disqualifying.

The specific episode is fictional, according to royal historian Hugo Vickers, albeit grounded in historical truth, documented for example in German diplomatic papers the Allies obtained in 1945 and in declassified FBI documents that were the basis for the BBC’s bombastically-titled documentary “Edward VIII: The Nazi King.” It is clear that, before assuming the throne, the then-prince of Wales demonstrated pro-German feelings, a lack of concern with Nazi regime brutality, and a readiness to disparage democracy and express admiration for dictatorship.

As king, he sought a meeting with Hitler, and in 1937, as duke of Windsor, he made a very public visit to Germany, including a meeting with Hitler at Berchtesgaden. His now-wife Wallis Simpson, whom the FBI suspected of being a German agent, accompanied him. While a British military liaison to the French, he allegedly leaked (probably unintentionally) highly classified information that may have contributed decisively to Germany’s successful invasion of France in 1940.

The Duke ultimately spent most of the war as British governor general of the Bahamas, but not before stays in Madrid and Lisbon, where contacts with German agents and sympathizers were frequent.

The German diplomatic cables reported the Duke’s venomous alleged criticisms of Churchill and of other members of the royal family, his view that “continued severe bombing would make England ready for peace” and indicated that, if Germany forced the U.K. to make peace, Berlin wanted to return the Duke to the British throne. In December 1940, with London under the Blitz, the Duke tried to engage American journalist Fulton Oursler as an intermediary with Roosevelt, to plot an effort to appease Hitler and end the war. To the extent, however, that there is a British “official” or at least “semi-official” view of his relationship with Nazi Germany, it is the one Vickers expresses: “The Duke of Windsor may have been a fool, but he was no traitor.”

Albeit in a fictionalized setting, actor Alex Jennings’s portrayal of the duke of Windsor is consistent with first-person accounts and the historical record. A person of absolutely no substance, this duke oozes boundless vanity and conviction in his own innate superiority. He points viciously at the alleged shortcomings of others. He continues to live a totally unexamined life, evincing not a shred of doubt about his past actions, let alone an ounce of contrition. His capacity for loyalty extends no further than himself and to Wallis, and he lacks empathy.

This portrayal merits reflection. The real Elizabeth, like the television one, has given a sense of dutifully struggling, not always successfully, to deal with the impacts of social change. I would love to load Churchill into a time machine and enjoy his acerbic observations on today’s politics, but have a hard time seeing him as our contemporary.

I fear, on the other hand, that the duke of Windsor could find plenty of kindred spirits among today’s authoritarians, aspiring authoritarians, and “illiberal democrats,” and perhaps some in the news and entertainment industries. His coziness with Hitler, after all, suggests he was not totally above hobnobbing with members of the lower classes, as long as they were powerful.

Eric R. Terzuolo was an officer in the U.S. Foreign Service, and since 2010 has taught at the Foreign Service Institute, the professional development unit of the Department of State. He earned a doctorate in history from Stanford and taught at Gustavus Adolphus College and Mount Saint Mary’s College (now University).