BNP Paribas Fortis and Great Britain during the two World Wars
How did BNP Paribas Fortis operate from London during the two World Wars? Through two archival documents—a historic letter and the account of an employee awarded the Victoria Cross—discover its role in supporting the Allies, managing funds for the Commission for Relief in Belgium, and maintaining financial resistance against occupation.
Between 1914 and 1918, as well as during the years 1940-1944, London hosted the headquarters of the Banque Belge pour l’Étranger (BBE, the predecessor of BNP Paribas Fortis). It became the nerve center of the Société Générale de Banque Group’s (another predecessor of BNP Paribas Fortis) activities outside of occupied Europe, serving the Allied cause and Belgium, which had been invaded by Germany. Managed by a ‘local board’ composed of and chaired by prominent British figures, the bank played a coordinating role in the Group’s financial operations. It provided assistance to Belgians in exile, supported wartime charities, raised funds for the Commission for Relief in Belgium (CRB), and was responsible for transferring the organization’s funds, to which it also extended overdraft facilities.
Great Britain enabled Belgium to survive during both World Wars by hosting the Société Générale de Belgique, as well as part of the Belgian Government. This support included helping to supply the Belgian population and financing solidarity funds.
From 1940 to 1944, the Banque du Congo Belge—founded in 1909 and part of the Holding of the Générale de Banque—relocated to London, operating from the premises of BBE Overseas Ltd.
As early as June 1940, it committed to the Bank of England to finance, in international currencies, all British imports of raw materials from the Belgian Congo.
Banque du Congo Belge, siège de Londres, Copthall Avenue, BNP Paribas Fortis historical archives
The Commission for Relief in Belgium, based in London
The Commission for Relief in Belgium (CRB) was an international organization responsible for providing food supplies to Belgium and Northern France under German occupation during the First World War.
Letter from Edmond Carton de Wiart, Director of Société Générale de Belgique, in exile in London, to his brother Henri, Belgian Minister of Justice, in exile in Le Havre.
London, 4 Bishopsgate, 6 June 1916.
“My dear Minister, dear Henri,
It has been a month since I last wrote to you, and you must be wondering if I am still alive… Rest assured, my recent trip to the States is the only reason for the disarray in my correspondence.
What a fate ours is! Both of us in exile—you in France, me in London… It has now been nearly two years that, willingly or not, I have had to give up going to fight and instead content myself with serving the national cause in a more bureaucratic manner. Who knows if I am more useful this way? Jadot and Francqui tell me I am—that I am “the right man in the right place.” When Antwerp fell, it was they who insisted that one of the members of the Société Générale’s board of directors come to London in order to stay in contact with the group’s subsidiaries active in the Congo, China, and elsewhere. I must admit that the offices of the Banque Belge pour l’Étranger, in the heart of the City, are more comfortable than the trenches of the Yser. And fortunately, my role is not limited to safeguarding the industrial and financial interests of the group!
This brings me to say a word about the organization of food relief for the country. You write to me that the Belgian government is wary of Hoover and has difficulty entrusting such large funds to a private individual, even if he is American and an engineer. Since “your” government has appointed me as “its” representative on the Commission for Relief in Belgium, allow me to give you my opinion on the matter in a few words.
In my view, Hoover is the providential man. He is the one who set up the machinery of the Relief. Thanks to him, we can buy food supplies in the United States that allow 7 million Belgians and 1 million French to avoid starving under the German boot. I was there during his negotiations with the British authorities when he secured permission from the Navy for CRB ships to cross the maritime blockade. I can tell you that without Hoover’s energy, the wheat that the Belgian government buys from Uncle Sam would never have reached Antwerp and Amsterdam! Hoover has his character, certainly—he likes to be praised—but he is an honest man and remarkably effective. Rest assured that the Banque Belge, as the Relief’s banker, carefully monitors all movements on the accounts opened with it. […]
You ask me how I can have such easy contact with my colleagues in Brussels. We owe this largely to the exquisite kindness of the Marquis de Villalobar, the Spanish ambassador posted in Brussels, whose diplomatic bag has allowed us more than once to outwit German censorship.
I hope that your whole family is well and send you my affectionate embrace.
Your brother who loves you, Edmond
P.S. I am not losing sight of the issue of the credits extended to Belgium by Great Britain to finance the purchase of war material. I will return to this in my next letter.
Act of Bravery During the Second World War
A Victoria Cross for the Banque Belge pour l’Étranger
The Victoria Cross is one of the highest distinctions awarded by the British Empire. It recognizes acts of exceptional bravery (‘conspicuous bravery’). In 150 years of existence, it has been awarded fewer than 1,400 times. Among the heroes it honors is a bank employee—perhaps the only one: George-Albert Cairns.
Until the war, Cairns had led a most peaceful life. In 1931, at the age of 18, he joined the Banque Belge pour l’Étranger as a ‘French correspondent’ (his studies at the Lycée français de Londres had made him perfectly bilingual). He spent his free time between studying (he was preparing for an exam at the Institute of Bankers) and the bank’s sports club, where he played football. In 1941, he married one of his colleagues at the bank, Ena Duffy. But less than a year later, he was called up for military service. Destination: Burma. Ena Duffy: ‘Our goodbye was terrible: a cup of tea in London, a cinema visit, and a quick supper before he took the train. I never saw him again’.
Assigned to a regiment of the 77th Independent Infantry Brigade, Lieutenant Cairns participated in the Burma campaign against the Japanese army. It was an extremely tough struggle against superior forces in a hostile and suffocating jungle to which the British troops were not accustomed. In early 1944, aiming to halt the advance of Japanese troops at the gates of India, the High Command launched a commando operation to destroy Japanese communication lines. On March 5, the 1st South Staffordshire Regiment, where Cairns was a lieutenant, was dropped by glider deep behind enemy lines. On the 12th, they seized the area known as ‘Henu-Blok,’ cutting off Japanese communication lines. But at dawn on the 13th, the Japanese launched a violent counterattack. The South Staffordshire Regiment received orders to take control of the hill from which the Japanese attack was coming. The fighting was fierce. At the top of the hill, dominated by a white pagoda, and on an area ‘no larger than two tennis courts,’ the combatants fought hand-to-hand.
Lieutenant Cairns was slashed by a Japanese officer who cut off his left arm. Despite the pain, Cairns shot the officer point-blank with his revolver, picked up the Japanese sword, and striking left and right, killed and wounded several enemies before collapsing himself. Inspired by his example, his comrades finally routed the Japanese (“a very rare occurrence at that time”). Cairns, struck by several more bayonet blows, collapsed. He died a few hours later, not without anxiously inquiring about the outcome of the battle from his commanding officer, Major Calvert: “Have we won, Sir? Was it all right? Did we do our stuff?”
Cairns’ extraordinary feat nearly faded into oblivion: the testimonies related to this “act worthy of a medieval paladin” were destroyed on March 24th in the crash of the plane carrying General Wingate. However, Cairns’ wife had learned of her husband’s exploits through a few letters from his comrades. Through sheer tenacity, and with the bank’s help, she managed to have the case reopened and her husband’s heroism recognized—though she herself had only ever known him as “a quiet and kind man.” He was finally awarded the Victoria Cross in May 1949. A year later, the bank inaugurated a memorial in its premises, attended notably by Pierre Bonvoisin, administrator of the Banque de la Société Générale de Belgique. This was an opportunity to pay an emotional tribute to an employee who had accomplished “an act of bravery that could not have been the result of recklessness or a sudden inspiration, but rather the logical consequence of a life of hard work and a strongly forged character.”
