Petain: How the Hero of France Became a Convicted Traitor and Changed the Course of History (review)

Philippe Pétain looked the hero. In 1929 George Orwell observed him at Marshal Ferdinand Foch's funeral procession. "As he stalked past—a tall, lean, very erect figure . . . a whisper of 'Voilà Pétain' went rippling through the vast crowd." No other twentieth-century Frenchman exercised such sustained influence on national fortunes. For almost three decades Pétain occupied key appointments: commander at Verdun, army commander in chief, inspector general of the army, war minister, vice-president of the supreme war council, head of state. Why another biography? Readers already have a choice of Richard Griffiths (1970)—curiously missing from Williams's bibliography—Herbert Lottman (1984), and Nicholas Atkin (1998). In France, Marc Ferro's Pétain (1987) and Guy Pedroncini's Pétain: La Victoire Perdue (1995) have become classics. How did the great defender in World War I become an arch collaborator and source of internecine strife in the second conflict? Williams does not have a convincing answer. This is not a definitive study and the arguments will continue. Despite the blurb's promise of "the real story of Pétain" there are no revelations, no startling conclusions. This is primarily a retelling of a familiar story. Seasoned with a light peppering of archival references, it relies on the published literature, not original scholarship. The rather bland narrative mostly stays on the surface, moving smoothly from the marshal's birth at Cauchy to imprisonment and death on the Ile d'Yeu, offering little sense of underlying issues, conflicts and personalities. Students and nonspecialist readers alike will be left wondering what all the fuss was about. A substantial introduction—we barely get four pages—and conclusion would have given more depth. On Pétain the warrior Williams considers that while no Napoleon or Wellington "he comes very high in the ranks just below them" (p. 107). This is dubious to say the least. The French public called him a great man and he believed them. Victor of Verdun is a misnomer—as Williams concedes—Pétain had only two months of direct command in a ten-month battle; the poilus were the victors, the general provided the means. Nevertheless it was a triumph—as was his handling of the mutinies in 1917. As a defender Pétain was superb, the best the French had in 1914–18. On the ruler the author depicts a not unsympathetic old guy wanting to do the best for his country, sadly outmaneuvered by Nazi and Vichy nasties. The subtitle's reference to the hero who "changed the course of history" exaggerates his significance. To be sure, the defense of Verdun did change the course of history. A German breakthrough would probably have taken France out of the war. By contrast, in 1940 the marshal accepted what he perceived as an inevitable German victory. By nature gloomy and cautious, Pétain lacked the combative ruthlessness of the great generals. Foch, not Pétain, gave the order to attack in 1918. The marshal's protégé, Charles de Gaulle, lecturing at the École de Guerre in 1927 quoted Admiral Fisher's judgment on Admiral Jellicoe's failure to rout the German fleet at the battle of Jutland in 1916: "He has all Nelson's qualities except one; he does not know how to disobey" (p. 126). It's a judgment that illumines Pétain's own failure. If he had dared to launch his projected Lorraine offensive in October 1918, France might have won a French peace. Similarly in 1940 a decision to continue fighting Germany by all means available would have reconfigured World War II and perhaps earned an accolade from Clio.