The Hidden War in Argentina: British and American Espionage in World War II

Abstract

Wartime espionage in Argentina commands special interest in light of that country's controversial commitment to neutrality until the eve of Nazi Germany's fall. Prominent members of the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration headed by Secretary of State Cordell Hull viewed neutrality as a mask for pro-Axis sympathies at variance with the Pan-American movement that also impaired the Allied war effort. In this context, US officials deployed many schemes to discover evidence of Argentine collusion with the Nazis, including espionage. After the war, Spruille Braden, who in 1945 served as the US ambassador in Argentina and then as the assistant secretary of state for Western Hemisphere affairs, instigated publication of the notorious Blue Book, an exposé of alleged wartime ties between Nazi Germany and Argentine political leaders. Argentina gained additional ill repute as a suspected haven for escaped Nazi war criminals.British espionage in Argentina developed greater in scope than American spying, which reflected Britain's enormous business stake in the country and its wartime dependence on Argentine meat. More successful on balance than their American counterparts according to Panagiotis Dimitrakis, the British networks focused on protecting trade and shipping by preventing sabotage. Meanwhile, the Winston Churchill government accepted Argentine neutrality. The benefits that Britain received from this policy included the near-threefold increase in wartime meat exports and the deferment of all payment for meat until after the war. Further, neutrality protected British business against US competitors. Thus a state ostensibly failing to support British and Allied war aims, for which it was denounced by the United States, developed during the war into a British commercial satellite to a far greater extent than ever before in its history. Neutrality also served British interests by permitting maximum resources to be diverted into meat production and exports as opposed to being used for alternative purposes under US control. Under such conditions, the British were reluctant to denounce any but the most blatant instances of Argentina having “chosen to dally with evil,” as Churchill referred to cases of collusion with Nazi Germany. Dimitrakis describes one of these instances, the Oscar Hellmuth affair of early 1944, in which the British tailed and arrested the courier sent by President Pedro Ramírez to purchase weapons in Germany.The author includes “British and American espionage” in his book's subtitle, but he also devotes a substantial section to German spy activities. Following Ronald C. Newton's notable 1992 study The “Nazi Menace” in Argentina, 1931–1947, Dimitrakis analyzes German espionage, though he does incorporate new archival data, much of it from The National Archives in Britain. While fleshing out some old stories and narrating new ones, he nevertheless leaves an impression that espionage in wartime Argentina had only a limited impact. Among Germans, figures like Johannes Siegfried Becker could do little more than transmit information already in the public domain culled from newspapers. On the British side, MI6 reports included scarcely relevant data like the invention of the Biro ballpoint pen in Buenos Aires by László Biró, a Hungarian migrant. Dimitrakis reports, oddly it would seem, that among the Latin American states Argentina was a low priority in the eyes of the British Special Operations Executive. All indications point to the contrary in light of the importance of Argentine meat in Britain.US espionage too proved mundane and unspectacular. Turf wars between J. Edgar Hoover at the Federal Bureau of Investigation and William J. Donovan, director of the Office of Strategic Services, dominate this part of the story. Dimitrakis's narrative lacks reports of spectacular feats associated with espionage: the assassination of public figures tied to enemies, the sinking of ships transporting crucial cargoes, the disruption of railroads, or the type of heroic exploits associated with the French Resistance. Nazi spies in Argentina failed to disrupt the frigoríficos; there is no compelling evidence that spies found ways to guide the U-boats to consistently attack the meat ships. The book conveys nothing of the intrigue, treachery, or romance of contemporary movies like Alfred Hitchcock's Notorious, made in 1945–46 in locations reminiscent of wartime Buenos Aires.Dimitrakis proffers a bureaucratic history of spying. He fails to explain each country's perception of its national interest and how this influenced the development of its espionage networks. He applies his enviable multilingual skills to only limited advantage. He neglects important secondary literature devoted to wartime Argentina published in the United States. The author uncovers numerous issues but leaves interesting, long-asked questions unresolved. For example, he accepts the long-held if often-contested view that Ramón Castillo, president of Argentina in 1940–43, supported the Nazis but provides no new evidence. Dimitrakis hints at undiscovered data revealing Juan Perón's pro-Axis proclivities but once more omits details and proof. In too many instances, the book fails to distinguish between fact and propaganda.