Joachim von Ribbentrop and a Specter of Evil

In order to send this newsletter early on the 1st of November, I’m writing it on Halloween, and there is a specter of evil in the air.

OK … there is actually more of an aura of Milky Ways, Kit Kats, Lindt Dark Chocolate Truffles, and Twizzlers in the air, but please humor me.

To this point, I’ve shared stories about historical figures who I admire … men like Sir Edward Louis Spears, William Bullitt, John Colville, and Lord Halifax. (You can find their stories in my Newsletter Archive). In some ways though it’s more interesting and enjoyable to write about characters I have learned to detest. I will share other names and other stories at another time. For now, I would like to focus on a man who is just a peripheral scoundrel in my book, but who still managed to get under my skin like no other … Joachim von Ribbentrop, Hitler’s Foreign Minister during the War.

Ribbentrop had an utterly contemptible temperament and personality, as well as - to our great misfortune - a decisive influence on Adolf Hitler’s decision to go to war with France and Great Britain.
 
Every book and every article that includes any mention of Ribbentrop includes at least one story of his boundless ignorance. He was an equal-opportunity ignoramus, every bit as uncouth to royalty as he was to commoners. He was knighted “Herr Brickendrop” by a British journalist after he demolished court etiquette during his ritual introduction to King George VI as Germany’s new ambassador in 1937. Disdaining the customary modest bow to Britain’s sovereign, Ribbentrop sharply clicked his heels, locked his right arm in an upward angle, and barked “Heil Hitler" … and then repeated the Nazi drill two more times. The shy king smiled wanly and bowed slightly.
 
Nevile Henderson, Britain’s Ambassador to Germany and frequent target of Ribbentrop’s rage and distorted reality described his German nemesis as “a combination of vanity, stupidity and superficiality,” and wrote: “there is no hell in Dante’s inferno bad enough for Ribbentrop.”
 
His German colleagues were equally unsparing in their disdain. Interpreter Paul Schmitt, who frequently assisted in Ribbentrop's negotiating sessions despite the foreign minister’s fluency in English, called him: “a dangerous fool” and noted “If Hitler was displeased with him, Ribbentrop was sick and took to his bed like a hysterical woman.” Count Otto von Bismarck delivered my favorite description: “He is such an imbecile that he is a freak of nature.”
 
Born a Ribbentrop, he assumed an air of faux nobility as a von Ribbentrop after Gertrude von Ribbentrop, a titled aunt and widow of a Prussian officer, adopted him in 1925 when he was 32. In addition to his strategic adoption, Ribbentrop married well. Annelies Henkell was heiress to a wine and champagne fortune. Her father sent him to Paris to help expand the family business. Ribbentrop’s mother-in-law would lament “Of all my sons-in-law, the most foolish became the most prominent.” The Ribbentrops had five sons, one of whom they named Adolf.
 
While in his twenties and early thirties, Ribbentrop worked a series of jobs in Canada, the United States. and France. Sir Eric Phipps, who represented Britain to both Germany and France as Ambassador noted: “Ribbentrop is the only member of the Nazi party who goes abroad and has foreign friends.” The span of his travels and his fluency in English and French were unique in the German High Command, which emboldened him to flaunt a cosmopolitan aura that contributed to his influence with Hitler on foreign policy.
 
Joachim von Ribbentrop, with his dull eyes, pursed lips, and overall sullen visage, carried a passionate contempt for Britain. Herr Brickendrop had been mocked by British society, and his son Rudolph had been rejected for admission to Eton. Britain and France’s refusal to interfere with German’s incursions into Austria and Czechoslovakia had convinced the German Foreign Minister that the Allies lacked the will to support Poland if Germany attacked. Ribbentrop’s confidence helped sway Hitler, and on September 1, 1939, Germany launched a vicious Blitzkrieg assault on the Poles.
 
Two days later, when Nevile Henderson delivered Britain’s final ultimatum, which promised a declaration of war, Ribbentrop refused to meet with the British Ambassador, leaving the task to a most unlikely envoy - translator Paul Schmidt.  After Schmidt rushed to Hitler’s office and verbally translated the British ultimatum to a small audience that included Hitler, Ribbentrop, Herman Goering and Joseph Goebbels, Hitler turned to Ribbentrop and snapped: “Now what?” Von Ribbentrop quietly replied: “I assume that the French will hand a similar ultimatum within the hour.” Schmidt heard Goering mutter: “God help us if we lose this war.”
 
Winston Churchill had multiple cordial encounters with Ribbentrop during the latter's earlier tour of duty in London as German Ambassador in the late 1930s. Their final meeting was at a luncheon on March 12, 1938, the day German troops marched into Austria. Churchill later recalled: “That was the last time I saw Herr von Ribbentrop before he was hanged.”
 
When Ribbentrop’s son Rudolph died in 2019 at the age of 98, his obituary in the New York Times mentioned two survivors, his sister Ursula and his brother Adolf. As far as I can determine. Adolf von Ribbentrop, who was born in  1935, is currently alive at the age of 86.
 

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There is no better mashup of Halloween and the specter of evil in the time of World War II than the cover of the October 31, 1942 issue of the New Yorker.

Happy Halloween. Thanks for reading.

Bill

Bill Whiteside