Wayne Bradshaw reviews Fascists in Exile: Post-War Displaced Persons in Australia (Routledge, 2024)

 

One of the most remarkable feats accomplished by Jayne Persian in Fascists in Exile, her account of the ‘war criminals, collaborators and fascist ultranationalists . . . resettled in Australia by the IRO [International Refugee Organisation] between 1947 and 1952’ (Persian 3), is her marked degree of impartiality, even by the standards of academic history writing. Persian makes it clear from the outset that her intention with this book is ‘to move away from both ignorance and polemic’ (4). This book is neither a Nazi-hunting expedition nor an apologia for the ideological shortcomings of a few bad apples. Persian is quick to point out that ‘the problematic politics of post-war migrants to Australia has largely been ignored by non-Jewish academics and deliberately omitted by DP ethnic historians’ (3). Nevertheless, the degree to which she succeeds in her task of providing an objective assessment of Australia’s post-war resettlement policies can, at times, be unnerving for an ideologically engaged reader. Persian’s is an account of moral and political failures which manages to restrain itself from levelling obvious—and justified—condemnations.

Cover of Fascists in Exile

Considering Persian’s account, Australia’s approach to the resettlement of Displaced Persons after the Second World War failed to adequately screen out fascists and fellow travellers seeking to avoid prosecution in Europe. Indeed, Australia’s laissez-faire approach to the screening and resettlement of potential far-right nationalists in the wake of the Second World War was driven primarily by economic measures rather than security concerns. Like other countries in the Anglosphere, racist immigration policies provided an open door and the promise of a new life for war criminals fleeing justice at home. These people brought their poisonous politics with them and successive governments ignored the risks that these far-right nationalists posed.

Navigating the intersection of migration history and the history of political radicalism, Fascists in Exile describes a politically fraught and ideologically dangerous situation, in which the screening of quislings, fascists and fellow travellers was marred by the Australian government’s undue haste; its ignorance of European political realities; its prevailing commitment to the White Australia Policy; and the western world’s vociferous anti-communism bordering on obsession. Persian observes that ‘Australia entered the IRO’s market in search of young, fit bodies who would be assimilable in what was White Australia . . . in the context of an urgent need for labour to assist in an ambitious post-war reconstruction program’ (51). When it came to the processing of Displaced Persons, ‘selection officers were provided with quite explicit criteria listing the nationalities acceptable to Australia and the restrictions on Jews,’ but ‘there was no formal policy for the exclusion of Nazi collaborators from Eastern Europe and no information provided about the various institutions of collaboration’ (54). The outcome of turning the post-war refugee crisis into a source of blond-haired and blue-eyed labour was unsurprising, and Persian observes that ‘estimates of war criminals and collaborators entering Australia in the post-war period range from 500 to 5,000’ (51). The fact that such a broad figure is the best that Persian can provide is indicative of the lack of oversight in a screening process that ignored such telling indicators as scars indicating the removal of SS tattoos.

The use of the IRO resettlement program by far-right nationalists to escape retribution in their home countries was not confined to Australia, but the political conditions here exacerbated the effects of the international community’s exhaustion and desire to move on from the horrors of the Second World War. Persian suggests that while the Allies initially ‘agreed that all alleged war criminals should be returned to the scenes of their crimes for judgement in national courts’ (22), by ‘March 1949, the British decided to accept no further extradition applications; it was now time for a “spirit of tolerance and generosity rather than a desire for revenge”’ (30). It was in the context of this conciliatory spirit in ‘April 1949 that two Australian Military Intelligence Officers, clutching “elementary German phrasebooks,” arrived in Europe,’ to undertake the fraught and complicated task of ‘political security checks’ on displaced persons (56). Whether due to limited funding or expertise, Australia’s immigration system was ill-equipped to handle the screening process. Persian describes a woefully underprepared system for identifying real political threats which was wildly understaffed by personnel with no grasp of the languages they were working in and even less sense of the political climate.

The extent of Australian anti-communism and antisemitism rendered even obvious cases of fascist collaborators seeking refuge as examples of high farce. Persian observes that, when the Commonwealth Investigation Service reported that ‘several migrants had arrived bearing scars indicating that an SS tattoo had been removed,’ the Minister for Immigration, Arthur Calwell, branded it a ‘farrago of nonsense’ (75). It was one of several instances where advice about fascists slipping through the screening program was ignored to portray the new arrivals as good nationalists fighting the evils of communism. Subsequent governments were broadly willing to portray former Nazi collaborators ‘as patriots who wanted to see their former conditions returned’ or, as then Cabinet Minister William McMahon, put it ‘as “a good bunch” with “a good cause”’ (107). With its characteristic detachment, Fascists in Exile outlines a litany of such failures leading to the resettlement of politically active far-right nationalists in Australia.

For readers with an interest in the history of radical nationalism in Australia, much new ground is covered in the chapter titled ‘The “Whole Exiles” Set-Up in Australia.’ Persian goes into significant depth on the failings of Australian efforts to combat neo-fascist organisation following the resettlement scheme. She suggests that ‘as well as continuing the many right-wing organisations, right-wing Displaced Persons (DPs) also moved quickly to gain control of moderate nationalist bodies, and many of these individuals went on to lead umbrella organisations’ (89). Names familiar to anyone with a passing knowledge of Australia’s own flirtations with fascist ideology inevitably come up here, but in what may prove unfamiliar contexts. Persian observes, for example, that ‘Eric Butler and his infamous associate, PR Stephensen—both “transnational fascists”—were, in fact, very active in collaborating with right-wing emigres, including joint publishing endeavours with Vladimir Lezák Borin, who would go on to share an office with the editor of Homeland, the publication of the neo-Nazi Australian Nationalist Workers Party (ANWP, 1959–1962)’ (93). Some might be surprised to see evidence that Percy Reginald “Inky” Stephensen, author of The Foundations of Culture in Australia, editor of the fascistic cultural journal The Publicist, and friend of Miles Franklin, was still engaged in the promotion of fascism even after his release from internment during the Second World War. Similar relationships persisted in the coming decades, with Hungarian and Croatian far-right nationalists demonstrating ‘growing links with Australian Nazi parties’ into the 1960s (113).

Beyond its obvious importance to migration historians, Fascists in Exile will surely remain a crucial work for researchers interested in the continued development of fascist ideology in Australia following the Second World War. By refusing the lure of ideological stridency in favour of the far more challenging task of analysis, Persian accomplishes something that would have been impossible through polemic. It provides a starting point for reasoned argument, and demonstrates the importance of guarding against insularity, ignorance and racism. Fascists in Exile dispassionately identifies the institutional failures which rendered the Australian government ill-prepared to respond to the task of distinguishing genuine threats from the imagined racial dangers to social cohesion.

 

Works Cited

Persian, Jayne. Fascists in Exile: Post-War Displaced Persons in Australia. Routledge, 2024.

Dr Wayne Bradshaw
Dr Wayne Bradshaw

Wayne Bradshaw is an adjunct research associate at James Cook University, Australia, where he completed a PhD in literary studies investigating the impact of egoist philosophy on the historical development of the avant-garde manifesto. His book, The Ego Made Manifest: Max Stirner, Egoism, and the Modern Manifesto, is available from Bloomsbury.