It's Tuesday, Jan. 24, a date which reminds us that political reputations once thought to be lost can be salvaged, even redeemed, sometimes in spectacular fashion. I'm not thinking of Joe Biden and his many failures while running for president or even his Lazarus-like recovery in 2020 after humiliations in Iowa and New Hampshire (that wasn't until February). Instead, I'm referring to Winston Churchill, Britain's greatest 20th century statesman, who left this earthly vale on this date in 1965 at the age of 90. His father, Lord Randolph Churchill, died on this date, too, in 1895. Shortly thereafter, his son joined the British Fourth Hussars, serving with distinction during combat tours in India and South Africa.
In 1900, Winston went into politics, a vocation cut short by World War I. As an officer in that gruesome war, he made costly mistakes, most notably at Gallipoli, essentially ending his military career. He returned to elective politics in 1917, became a Conservative, and was out of office by 1929. Winston Churchill was 55 years old. He'd already outlived his father by 10 years, compiling a career of action and fame. His glory days were behind him, or so it seemed, and he spent the 1930s as a kind of Anglo-Saxon scold, warning his countrymen about the gathering storm on the European continent. But his finest hours were ahead of him.
I write about Churchill nearly every year. To younger readers, he must seem an anachronism, and besides, he's not even American and this newsletter deals with U.S. politics and history. To me, though, his best qualities are more relevant than ever -- and he was half-American (his mother was born in Brooklyn). Moreover, during the middle part of the last century, he and Franklin Roosevelt were partners in protecting the world from the forces of darkness.
By the time the British public embraced Winston Churchill in 1940, it was nearly too late. Across the ocean, that year's U.S. presidential election pitted two internationalists, Republican challenger Wendell Willkie and incumbent Democrat FDR, running for an unprecedented third term. Roosevelt's rationale for ignoring the two-term example set by George Washington was the deteriorating situation in Europe. Yet, as late as the last week of the campaign, FDR felt it politically expedient to promise that no American soldiers would be fighting in Europe.
It was a vow the president knew he couldn't keep. Great Britain was barely hanging on. That spring, news from Europe was all about France's surrender, Germany's invasion of the Low Countries, and the fall of Norway. The English had turned in desperation to Churchill. In his first days in office, the new prime minister had, in turn, looked to his mother's country. "If we go down," Churchill said in a message to Roosevelt, "Hitler has a very good chance of conquering the world."
FDR was fearful of that very specter and had been waiting for a sign that Britain wouldn't capitulate the way France had. As historian David M. Kennedy has written, Winston Churchill was that sign. On May 15, 1940 -- the night French Prime Minister Paul Reynaud screamed over the phone to Churchill, "We are beaten!" -- Britain's new prime minister composed a cable to Roosevelt. "As you are no doubt aware, the scene has darkened swiftly," Churchill said. "The small countries are simply smashed up, one-by-one, like matchwood. … We expect to be attacked here ourselves."
To combat the expected German invasion, Churchill asked Roosevelt to "loan" Britain some 50 mothballed U.S. Navy destroyers, hundreds of fighter planes and bombers, anti-aircraft guns and ammo, and allow it to purchase steel from U.S. factories. This fateful cable contained the seeds of "Lend-Lease." The U.S. president's positive response signaled the end of American neutrality.
In January 1941, Wendell Willkie, the man Roosevelt had defeated two months before, prepared to visit England. Invited to the White House before he departed, Willkie was given a note for Churchill by FDR.
"Wendell Willkie will give you this -- He is truly helping to keep politics out over here," Roosevelt wrote. "I think this verse applies to your people as it does to us:
Sail on, O Ship of State!Sail on, O Union strong and great.Humanity with all its fearsWith all the hope of future yearsIs hanging breathless on thy fate.
As ever yours,
Franklin D. Roosevelt
The prime minister's reply to the Longfellow verse sent to him by his American counterpart has echoed through the decades.
"Put your confidence in us. Give us your faith and your blessing, and under Providence, all will be well," Churchill responded. "We shall not fail or falter. We shall not weaken or tire. Neither the sudden shock of battle, nor the long-drawn trials of vigilance and exertion will wear us down. Give us the tools, and we will finish the job."
Two of those tools didn't need to be borrowed from any other nation: One was the steely spine of the British people and the other was their prime minister's own voice, one harnessed to reflect the determination of free people in the British Isles and around the world. In 1963, President Kennedy, borrowing phrasing from famed American war correspondent Edward R. Murrow while conferring honorary U.S. citizenship on Sir Winston, put it this way: "In the dark days and darker nights when England stood alone -- and most men, save Englishmen, despaired of England's life -- he mobilized the English language and sent it into battle."
The British people knew it, too. On May 8, 1945, the day after Berlin fell ending the Third Reich, Churchill addressed a huge crowd that gathered spontaneously at Whitehall. "This is your victory!" he proclaimed. The crowd answered back, "No, it is yours!"
All good things must end, however, and only two months later voters soon would look elsewhere for a peacetime leader. And though Churchill would enjoy one last stint as prime minister in the early 1950s, he spent much of the remainder of his life writing a history of that pivotal period in world history.
Ten years after leaving office for the final time, his body lay in repose in Westminster Hall before being taken for the funeral at St. Paul's Cathedral. Silent Britons lined the streets of central London for the procession. A total of 321,360 mourners had filed past his casket, and millions around the world would watch his funeral on television, a ceremony attended by 110 world leaders.
Two wreaths were permitted to be placed at the grave, one from Churchill's wife, the other from his queen. The inscription on the card from Clementine Churchill said, "My Darling Winston, Clemmie." Queen Elizabeth, who broke with tradition to attend the funeral, wrote: "From the Nation and Commonwealth. In grateful remembrance, Elizabeth R."
Born of an American mother and a British father, Winston Churchill was part human bulldog and part Renaissance man: soldier and statesman, escaped war prisoner, historian, novelist, orator, journalist, raconteur. In his personal habits Churchill was not a trim or even-tempered man -- or an abstemious one.
He thrived on controversy; his pugnacity fueled him: Churchill would arise from bed and pick a fight before his countrymen had managed their morning tea. That wasn't all. "He drank wine for breakfast when it pleased him to do so and champagne and brandy and whisky in quantities through the rest of the day," noted Tony Lewis. "He smoked cigars continuously. He never exercised. And his health was amazing."
But at 90, even his iron constitution gave way. A nation that didn't always want him to be prime minister knew what it had lost. Proclaimed The Spectator: "We are a free people because a man called Winston Churchill lived."
I'll leave you this morning with a final word. In the 21st century, a new fad has caught on. It's called "dry January." I'll not find fault with readers who use the arrival of a New Year to improve their physical health or mental outlook. I would point out that on New Year's Eve, when that iconic ball falls in Times Square, the preferred wine has bubbles in it -- and that Winston Churchill would approve. Upon arriving in New York for a visit in 1931, he remarked, "First things first. Get the champagne."
Carl M. Cannon is the Washington bureau chief for RealClearPolitics. Reach him on Twitter @CarlCannon.
