catastrophe that the film has shown. It is a well-chosen, symbolic end, because the recovery of Germany was one of the great themes of the half-century that followed. At the time, not many people foresaw this (one of the few was Dr Hjalmar Schacht, held as a prisoner for the war crimes trials to come, at Nuremberg: he told his interrogators that Germany would of course rise again).
That mistake was forgivable. Germany had had the fate of Genesis’ Sodom and Gomorrah, brimstone and fire, and on the Dutch border there were signs reading, in English: ‘Here ends the civilized world’. Two out of five boys born between 1915 and 1925 were dead or missing. The 10 million surviving Wehrmacht men were herded into makeshift camps behind barbed wire, and another 10 million non-Germans, released from the camps or from forced labour, were wandering around at will. Another 10 million evacuee Germans went back from the countryside to the stricken towns and cities. On top of all this, in the summer of 1945, Germans from the east had to be settled. Some had taken part in the ‘trek’ out of areas that were about to be taken by the Soviets but others, in the summer and winter of 1945, had been expelled from their homes in Poland or Czechoslovakia. Coal production had collapsed, and what little was produced could not be moved. Food supplies fell to the point of near starvation. The problem was made all the worse because the Allies did not know, at first, what to do. There was even a decree (‘JCS 1067’) to the effect that there must be no fraternization with this savage people. However, that broke down very quickly, and in any case an element of the biblical Sodom came up: there were ‘righteous men’. From internal or external exile, and even in some cases from the camps, men appeared, willing to help in the creation of a decent Germany - on the whole, Catholics and Social Democrats, both of whom had faced persecution under the Nazis. Some sort of administration might be set up, locally. The symbolic woman-boy-and-bicycle in Downfall made, here, their first and halting moves forward. But the end of the Third Reich was followed by two years’ penury, and the winter of early 1947 worsened it. The British had been responsible for the industrial north-west, and had been parting with food to keep it going at a time when their own rations were poorer than during the war itself, when the Americans had helped out. On 1 January 1947 they agreed to put their own zone together with the American one, based on Frankfurt: the result, most of what was to be West Germany, was called ‘Bizonia’, but that too did not work any too well.
The German problem went together with others, worldwide. Japan, her capital almost flattened, and two principal cities nuclear ruins, was prostrate; European colonies in south-eastern Asia were hardly governable. Especially, a vast civil war was brewing in China. The Chinese Communists had acquired a solid base, with Soviet help and with captured Japanese weaponry, in Manchuria, and it was traditionally from there that China was conquered. But Stalin was probing in other areas as well. Himself from the Caucasus, he wanted to reassert Russia’s old dominance in the northern Middle East, a dominance that had been lost after the First World War, and he prided himself on restoring the Tsarist empire. It had collapsed, ran the thinking, from backwardness and exploitation by foreigners, with native collaborators. Communism had re-established the empire, and now he aimed at the Istanbul Straits, the most important waterway in the world, Europe’s way to Asia. During the war there had been a British and Russian occupation of Iran, and Soviet troops stayed there. The north of the country was largely Azeri and Kurdish, and Stalin encouraged both elements: Soviet Azerbaidjan, centred on the oil of Baku, was in theory an independent place, but the real Azerbaidjan was mainly in old Persia, and Stalin urged on Azeri