The Truth Behind Dresden
Every February 13, an emotional bait-and-switch occurs regarding the Allied bombing of Dresden in 1945.
Commemoration of that bombing has been a defining ritual among Neo-Nazis in Germany and abroad for many years, and has become an annual public spectacle in Dresden itself in the years following the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Why Dresden in particular? It isn’t immediately clear on its face: the bombing of Dresden was not the most deadly Allied bombing in the Second World War’s European theater in sheer numbers (that would have been Hamburg, which had nearly double the number of casualties), in percentage of population (almost one-third of the population of Pforzheim died in Allied raids, compared to three percent in Dresden), or in firepower (on a per citizen basis, less than one-fifth of the ordnance dropped on Hamburg fell on Dresden).
Yet, it has become a recurring obsession of, and propaganda tool for, the far right and radical left. This is due to a specific narrative that has grown slowly over several decades.
The narrative is this: Dresden was a peaceful little city in Germany where the people liked to make fine china and musical instruments. Its beautiful XVIIIth century Lutheran Baroque architecture and charming riverfront made it the “Florence of the Elbe”, and it had managed to escape the cruel ravages of war for so long because it had no war factories, or any military importance – but had provided a home for thousands of war refugees. Sadly, one cruel day – when the war was effectively already over – the Allies, looking for revenge, decided to rain fire upon Dresden out of sheer spite and bloodlust. According to the story, as many as 200,000 innocent Dresdeners burned, or suffocated to death, in an unnecessary and unspeakable war crime.
This is a powerful narrative, and an American writer — who was himself an Allied prisoner of war in Dresden at the time of the raid — wrote a bestselling novel in which the raid is the centerpiece of the story. That novel was Slaughterhouse-Five, and it made its author, Kurt Vonnegut, famous and wealthy. It was published in a very auspicious time: 1969, at the height of the American anti-war movement, when aerial bombing had become the center of controversy.
Slaughterhouse-Five created the narrative outlined above, in a highly fictionalized account of the raid, and that narrative has been taken up and repeated again and again in classrooms across the United States. Many of the collegiate anti-Vietnam protesters of 1969 became educators, and made Slaughterhouse-Five into both a mainstay of US high school American Lit syllabi, and an anti-war classic.
Vonnegut’s original narrative was fictionalized, partial, and tendentious: the current narrative is entirely false.
Dresden was not a peaceful or a little city. It was the seventh-largest city in Germany, and it was a stronghold of Nazism in 1945, and a stronghold of Prussian militarism centuries before that. It certainly had beautiful architecture, a storied musical tradition, and a thriving porcelain industry — but it was also the site of the Lehman artillery works, the Koch und Sterzel complex of electrical components factories, the Zeiss glassworks (producing bombsights and lenses), and many other industries directly involved in supplying the war effort. Dresden was the second-largest city on the northward-flowing Elbe river — a vital waterway connecting the city’s industries, via barge, to the largest city on the Elbe: Hamburg, the heart of the Reich’s Kriegsmarine. Dresden’s railways were the midpoint between Berlin and Prague, and an essential rail link to the recently-fallen Breslau (Wroclaw). Dresden was always strategically important, but it had become even more strategically important as the Soviets advanced from Breslau.
Dresden did lack some amenities, however. The overconfident Nazis failed to build adequate air-raid shelters for a city of its size and importance, and the Nazis – perhaps from the same overconfidence, or due to pressure from the front – had left Dresden with only moderate military aircover.
The war, at this point, was far from over. Millions of the Reich’s soldiers were still engaged in combat. The Allies had, only eighteen days before the raid, taken 90,000 casualties in a costly battle against Nazi forces in the Ardennes. The raid on Dresden was a military necessity in a war whose outcome was not certain. The Allies did not have either a dime or a minute to spare by engaging in an unnecessary waste of men and material on impractical revenge. It was the Nazis themselves, and their V2 (Vergeltungswaffe Zwei – Vengeance Weapon Two) bombing program which was aimed solely at civilians without any strategic benefit.
In Dresden itself, a feature of civil life was the open use of slave labor, with Jews and Poles forced to work the most dangerous industrial jobs to free German hands for the war effort. Dresden was a passionately pro-Nazi city, and had been an electoral stalwart for the party in 1933.
Far from being a war crime (aerial bombardment was not even criminalized in international law until 1949), the raid on Dresden was made against a defended target, and against a militarily important target. The raid was proportionate, was determined on by the highest authorities in the Allied forces, and was strategically necessary. The casualties were not 200,000 (a contemporaneous Nazi propaganda figure), but approximately 24,000. The high actual casualties were due to factors the Allies could not predict: very dry weather combined with high winds, and the failure of the Nazis (unlike in Münich) to prepare an adequate air raid shelter system.
That is the history, not the Vonnegut narrative. In fact, the Vonnegut narrative is not even fully Vonnegut’s: as the author of Slaughterhouse-Five revealed in an interview with The Paris Review in 1977, he relied not just on his own recollections from more than twenty years before, but also on secondary sources.
Vonnegut singled out one book in particular as a helpful resource. The book he named was also by a famous author, and just as Slaughterhouse-Five was for Vonnegut, the book was the author’s first bestseller. The author was David Irving, the reigning king of Holocaust-denying Nazi apologists, and the book was “The Destruction of Dresden” — published in 1963. As always, Irving freely drew on Nazi party archives and accounts to craft his story, while choosing his Allied sources very selectively.
Since the 1960s, figures on both the radical left and radical right have used Irving’s cartoon version of events, dramatized and amplified by the talents of unwitting dupe Kurt Vonnegut, as a readymade tu quoque argument against the moral position of the NATO powers, against Israel, and against any attempt at humanitarian intervention.
Alternativ für Deutschland, Prison Planet, the Russian Defense Ministry (!), the government of Syria, and other bad faith arguers and bad actors on the world stage unite each year in using the Dresden narrative as a bloody shirt to wave away any criticism of authoritarian regimes. It behooves serious people to exercise caution before taking their version of history, and their application of it to current events, as Gospel.
Great post. Glad to see someone not accepting the standard narrative.Report
Surely we don’t need to establish that ‘the bombing of Dresden was entirely appropriate, proportionate, and the best thing that the US and the UK could have done at the time’ in order to deny that ‘the bombing of Dresden shows that capitalism/the West/democracies are as bad or worse than Hitler’?Report
I was blessedly unaware of the use of Dresden to grind extremist axes.
I was aware of how often it is to take the light from previous periods and refract it through the lens of our own concerns.
Like how Slaughter House Five, Catch-22, and M*A*S*H, while ostensibly about WWII and Korea, were actually criticism of Vietnam and American politics in general.
By the same token, the history of the Munich Agreement or Pearl Harbor was used constantly to criticize everything from the responses to the Gulf of Tonkin incident to arms control agreements.
This in turn reminds me of our discussions about Gone With The Wind and the tendency to retroactively praise or condemn the behavior of previous generations.
If all we are doing is assuming an air of moral superiority then this sort of thing would be just idle and pointless posturing.
But examining the past and interrogating it can serve a useful purpose in making our own choices.
For example, lets consider the reactions to two separate and similar bombing campaign, Guernica and Dresden.
In 1936 the bombing of civilian targets like Guernica was novel, and startling. So startling that it provoked international condemnation and inspired the famous painting by Picasso.
Yet, only a few years later, the various nations were conducting raids a hundred times larger than Guernica, without so much as a peep of objection.
I’m not noting hypocrisy here, so much as the power of warmaking to warp our moral compass and cause us to take actions we never would have dreamed of doing.
Or consider the American Civil war. I’ve read where at the very first battle, the Battle of Bull Run, both sides entered into it with an air of jubilant defiance, and that civilians from nearby actually took picnic baskets up to the hillsides overlooking it, sort of like a freaky holiday, and were hoping to see a splendid little skirmish with a neat conclusion.
Then by the end of the war, what started out as a noble and honorable cause ended in grisly trench warfare and the burning of entire cities.
So then we can turn our thoughts to our own time behavior.
We have been engaged in continuous warmaking now for almost two decades, longer than the lives of some of the young men fighting.
If warmaking had the power to distort the moral compass of previous generations, is it doing the same to us? Are we now accepting things which we would have found shocking and abhorrent in the before time?Report
Far from being a war crime (aerial bombardment was not even criminalized in international law until 1949)
From what I understand, this isn’t how “war crime” is used these days.
The narrative for Dresden that I always saw/understood was that it wasn’t merely a message to Germany, but to Uncle Joe. Hey, we can do what needs doing too, pal.
And it was successful. The Cold War ended with only minimal casualties worth mentioning.Report
The message we had been giving to uncle joe for most of the war was that the allies in the west are actually in the fight not standing around while the russians took millions of causalities. By 45 we had been on the continent but still wanted the russians to know we were active. We also wanted the russians to help us in japan since we were still planning a high causulity land invasion of the japan at that time.
Short version: We weren’t trying to put in fear in Joe when we still wanted russian bodies to suck up japanese bullets.Report
This is an interesting article. I’ve never seen this point of view on the Dresden bombing before. There are a couple of points that make me nervous, though. The article implies that Nazi civilians are legitimate targets. I’m also not crazy about the guilt by association in the last paragraph. As for the war overall, sure, it wasn’t over in February 1945, but the outcome was certain.Report
The allies had been debating the morality of laying waste to cities since early in the war. Dresden was not much different then other targets but the leadership knew that our bombing was not all that accurate and plenty of civilian causalities were unavoidable. They also knew civilian parts of the city would burn. Indeed us and the brits had had people calculating exactly how cities burn.Report
I’m getting caught up by this line
“a stronghold of Prussian militarism centuries before that.”
For two reasons
First, because it sounds a lot like justifying an attack on Eton as breading ground for British Imperialism, or Langley Virginia because its a hotbed for American dirty tricks abroad.
Second, because I’d consider myself pretty well informed about German and Prussian history and I have no idea what the heck you’re talking about. Dresden was the capital of Upper Saxony which was literally not Prussian at all ever. Not even after unification, certainly not for “centuries before 1945.” Its like calling Windsor, Ontario a stronghold of the American Military Industrial Complex because its over the river from Detroit.
Lets not even get into whether being associated with Prussia is a mark against you beyond the typical European norms, which is its own kettle of fish.Report
“Prussian militarism” is and has been a term used to refer, pars pro toto, to the military policies of the Deutsches Kaiserreich (which was Prussian dominated, and of which Dresden was a significant possession) and before that the Polish Lithuanian Commonwealth (where, under August der Starke, Dresden was made the “Royal Residential City”). People also talk about the founding of Russia in Kiev, and about Holland when they mean the Netherlands. I read that statement as establishing that the city was no stranger to military strategic importance within German polities, which only makes sense given that this section of the article was devoted to addressing the countervailing claim that Dresden lacked any such importance during WWII.Report
The centuries of military history Saxony was associated with was being a speed bump/forced ally to whichever of its much larger neighbours was currently ascendant on the North European Plain, be they Polish, Swedish, Austrian, Prussian or French.
I have never once heard “Prussian militarism” associated with the Commonwealth and it would be a highly unusual construction to do so, as its an Anglosphere concept to descibe what they thought they were fighting in World Wars and the Prussian military aristocracy had very little to do with the Commonwealth. Dresden itself is connected to the Commonwealth by way of being a separate dynastic possession of the Polish ruling dynasty.
Its just a very weird thing for the OP to toss of in a sentence.Report
In theory, half the evil blamed on the Anglosphere comes from Saxony.Report
Twice as many civilians died during WW2 as people in uniform. The norms of civilization went out the window and murder, arson, rape, and destruction became ok because someone thought that a military objective was attainable. We should be mindful of Dresden and equally mindful of the thousand other cities that also suffered wholesale slaughter. I think Vonnegut’s book is a great work of art that shows that calm, sane thoughts about war are fantasies that deserve mocking. We must stop or at least restrain the idea that wars result in anything other than killing. If we sow the wind, we will reap the whirlwind.Report
I sign on to Pinky’s and Brent F.’s reservations. However, here are two reasons I liked this post:
1. Before I read it, I had simply accepted the standard narrative Strahan questions. It’s one of those things I thought I knew, but now I realize I didn’t (or I now realize that the facts are contested).
2. I was not a fan of Slaughterhouse Five. In part, that was because I’m not really a fan of (what I’ve read of) Vonnegut’s work. His writing style just doesn’t suit me. I find it annoying. In part, it’s because the novel wasn’t the novel I wanted Vonnegut to write. I now have another reason not to like the book. (However, if I’m honest, I don’t, deep down, think factual inaccuracies of the sort Strahan suggests Vonnegut is, perhaps unwittingly, guilty of are per se a reason not to like a work of fiction.)
In sum, thanks for writing this post.Report
I thought this was a fascinating piece, and I’m glad to see you writing here.Report
Dresden was known to the British of a city of wooden buildings and therefore they chose incendiary bombs to cause the maxiumu destruction of houses, not to destroy factories.
It was obviously intended as a moral breaking stratergy.Report