Berlin Games (18 page)

Unfortunately for Wortmann, the letter fell into the wrong hands. A brouhaha erupted, in which private citizens wrote to Roosevelt himself, stating that the phrase ‘apostle of truth and justice' could mean only ‘promoters of Nazism'. On 16 April, one June Croll wrote to the president, stating that ‘this is outright cooperation with Nazi efforts to utilise the 1936 Olympics for the spread in the United States of race hate, destruction of religious, trade union, and all civil liberties'. A few days later Stephen Early, assistant secretary to the president, wrote to the AOC demanding to know why it had approved the letter. Brundage did not reply until May, informing Early that Wortmann was ‘a loyal and patriotic American citizen', who was only trying to foster a sense of goodwill. There is much to support Brundage's claim. After all, not only had Wortmann represented the United States in the Olympics, he had also worked extremely hard to improve the nation's weightlifting programme. Like Brundage, he was fanatical about the Olympic movement, and it may well be that Wortmann's only motivation was to ensure participation for the sake of the Games rather than for the sake of Germany. There can be no doubt, however, that his political sympathies, like Brundage's, dovetailed nicely with his support for an Olympics in Berlin.

Brundage and Wortmann were not the only members of the AOC who liked Hitler. Another was the treasurer, Gustavus Kirby, who wrote that the Fuehrer was ‘alert, well-informed, understanding and sympathetic to those whom he knows and trusts and especially with and to the German people who he certainly considers as his children
and for whom and to whom he is giving of his best'. Kirby, however, was convinced that the actions of the AOC had been instrumental in getting a fair deal for German Jews:

Kirby was always careful to stress how much he respected the Jews, but it was clear that he felt a great deal of antipathy towards them. He let his full anti-Semitism slip in a letter to Brundage on 27 May. Kirby was clearly still exasperated by the ‘rampant opposition' to the Games, and knew exactly who was to blame.

Although Kirby made some sort of nod to even-handedness with the inclusion of Gentiles in his great deportation, it was clear who the target of his mythical policy was. His suggestion that he didn't ‘believe in persecutions' contradicted his desire to chuck out those who didn't agree with him or those who weren't ‘thankful' enough. Like
Brundage, he believed the Germans really had displayed a volte-face with regard to the Jews, and it was impossible for either man to see why they were still complaining. It could mean only one thing–it was because they were damned Reds.

Brundage replied calmly to Kirby's spirited letter. ‘I still think you are wrong about the Jews,' he wrote. ‘Even with your forensic ability you are not going to convert them and argument only adds fuel to the flames. I find that good constructive publicity based on Americanism and the philosophy of amateur sport and the Olympic Games is more effective than debate on a dead issue.' In other words, Brundage had no wish to argue with anybody on the issue. He found it inconceivable that anybody might have a reasonable viewpoint regarding boycotting the Games. When it came to dealing with Kirby's confident assertion that he was a ‘Jew hater', Brundage was brusque: ‘[…] I don't like the first paragraph of your letter. Anyone who has had anything to do with sport knows that hate is a poisonous emotion. Anyhow I am too busy to hate anyone and I certainly do not enjoy being hated.'

If Brundage's words are to be taken at face value, how then did Kirby come to the opinion that Brundage was indeed anti-Semitic, and, furthermore, have the confidence to express it so baldly? Brundage's words do stop short of an outright denial, and his attitude towards the Jews over the previous years could leave few in any doubt as to his true feelings towards them.

 

If the boycott movement was starting to die out in the United States, in Britain it was slowly coming to life. The Nazis could hardly have been shaking in their highly polished boots when the
Daily Worker
reported on 7 January 1936 that the Grafton Athletic Club in London was considering not allowing its athletes to go to the Games. The writer of the article urged Grafton to ally itself with a wider boycott movement being organised by the National Workers' Sports Association (NWSA), which had already enlisted the help of four athletics clubs, including that of the Post Office Stores (Holloway). Again, this was hardly something that would have threatened Lewald and Diem's sleep.

Over the next two months, however, the NWSA's campaign, led by its general secretary, George Elvin, soon began to gather pace. His
efforts were helped by Sir Walter Citrine, the general secretary of the Trades Union Congress and the head of the International Federation of the Trade Unions, who wrote a widely circulated thirty-two-page booklet entitled
Under the Heel of Hitler–the Dictatorship over Sport in Nazi Germany
. Citrine outlined eloquently how the Nazis had politicised sport, broken the Olympic charter and discriminated against the Jews. He concluded by stating that ‘[…] individuals and organisations concerned with the development of the principles of international co-operation in every department of human activity may find themselves the unwitting agents of the Nazi tyranny, and unwillingly assisting it to destroy the foundations of freedom and democracy outside Germany'.

Elvin also drew much succour from the undergraduates at Oxford University. In February, the university's paper,
Isis
, also came out against the Games, declaring that ‘[…] sport has been subordinated to the needs of war. Germany has dragged down sport into the mire of politics. For us to participate in the Olympic Games […] would be to acquiesce in that breach of faith and in that dragging down of sport into the mire of politics. Our duty is clear. We must lift sport out of that mire into which Dr Goebbels has thrown it.' Later that month, Elvin visited Cambridge University, where he addressed the Cambridge Labour Party. Unsurprisingly, its members passed a unanimous resolution calling upon ‘all organisations concerned to refrain from participation'. If a handful of Oxbridge undergraduates, a trade unionist and the Post Office Stores (Holloway) Athletics Club were hardly the stuff of a nationwide boycott movement, for Elvin it was a start.

The NWSA's greatest opportunity to effect a boycott was at the Amateur Athletics Association's AGM on 21 March, at which ‘fireworks' were predicted. One commentator suggested that the meeting would even match the temperature of the AAU's convention in December 1935. At the meeting, George Elvin moved the resolution ‘that the spirit which prompted the organisation of the 1936 Olympic Games cannot be forwarded by participation in the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin, and instructs the Association to withdraw its support, and to withhold the necessary permission to any members who may make application for a permit to participate'.
Watching Elvin speak to the floor that Saturday were Lord Burghley, the incoming president, and Lord Desborough, the outgoing president, as well as Harold Abrahams. All three were doubtless wondering, in the words of Evan Hunter, whether this was the start of the anticipated ‘battle royal before the Summer Games'. Elvin knew that getting the motion passed would be hard work. His supporters inside the room would have amounted to no more than a dozen of the 200 assembled.

Elvin's most redoubtable enemy came in the form of Harold Abrahams, who spoke against the resolution. The fact that Abrahams was Jewish meant that his words carried extra weight, as the chief
raison d'être
of the boycott movement was of course to help Germany's Jews. Abrahams' clout was further enhanced by the fact that he was a former Olympian, and, as an experienced broadcaster, he spoke well in public. ‘I know that there is not a single person in this room who does not deplore the conditions in Germany today; but, in spite of these conditions, I ask myself whether it is ultimately in the best interests of world sport and better world relationships that the AAA should pass this resolution and withdraw from the Games.' He then spoke of how the British Olympic Association and the IOC had, rightly or wrongly, decided to support the Games. He continued:

Here at last was a cogent case for the need to participate. Rather than relying on Brundage-style
ad hominem
assaults and accusations of anti-patriotism, Abrahams had presented a reasoned and reasonable argument. Another difference between Abrahams and Brundage was that the Englishman was in no doubt as to the severity of the situation in Germany. Whereas Brundage wanted to participate in Germany
because things were supposedly not as bad as they seemed, Abrahams wanted to participate because things
were
that bad. The weakness of Abrahams' position was his belief that showing the Germans ‘real sport' would make any difference to the behaviour of the regime. Hitler did not listen to foreign diplomats and statesmen, so why would he listen to, say, Bill Roberts?

Elvin realised that the resolution would be defeated by a large majority, but Abrahams was decent enough to propose passing a resolution stating that the AAA acknowledged the conditions in Germany, but thought it in ‘the best interest of world sport' to participate. Lord Desborough, the outgoing president, was not happy with this, and spoke forcefully against passing any resolutions at all. Eventually, a compromise was mooted: if Elvin withdrew his resolution, then the General Committee of the AAA would call a special meeting within the next two months if Elvin required it. This was the best result Elvin could have wished for, and so he accepted it. It bought him a little more time, perhaps enough to work on those who had their doubts about participation. According to the
Manchester Guardian
, there were ‘many' in this position. Others doubted whether there was even a boycott movement at all. ‘The British boycott […] is now dead, killed or coffined by Mr Abrahams, according to whether or not one believes it was dead already,' said the
Jewish Chronicle
. Abrahams, however, did have his doubts about his position. He told the newspaper that although he had been invited to Berlin to accompany the British team, he would not go if he could be convinced ‘that such action would do more harm than good to German Jewry'. His promise was not an empty one. ‘I want you to understand,' he said, ‘that this offer is made in all seriousness.'

On the following Monday, Elvin brought together some two thousand people at Shoreditch Town Hall at a meeting to ‘arouse public opinion against the deplorable conditions of refugees from Nazi Germany'. Elvin found it easier to get a resolution passed at this meeting. The resolution declared that ‘no time was to be lost for the cause of peace and progress if the entire annihilation of the Jews in Germany was to be prevented'. Elvin's father, the trade unionist H. H. Elvin, supported the motion, with a speech that anti-appeasers like Vansittart, Phipps and Churchill would have strongly approved of.

Elvin spent the next two months attempting to rustle up some more support. His campaign was boosted by Sir Stafford Cripps, the Labour MP and former Solicitor-General, who, as president of the British Workers' Sports Association, promised to support Elvin's efforts. Emboldened, Elvin decided to ask for his special meeting of the AAA, which was subsequently scheduled for Saturday, 23 May. His confidence was increased by the number of messages of support he received from delegates who now realised that conditions in Germany were as bad as Elvin maintained. Elvin knew that although he had a very slim chance of winning, there was a chance that the result might be tight enough for him to continue his battle.