MILITARISM AND AUTOCRACY DOOMED.
GERMANY'S MACHINE--HER SCIENTIFIC ENDEAVOR TO MOLD SOLDIERS--INFLUENCE
ON THOUGHT AND LIVES OF THE PEOPLE--MILITARISM IN THE HOME--THE STATUS
OF WOMAN--FALSE THEORIES AND FALSE GODS--THE SYSTEM ORDAINED TO
PERISH--WAR'S SHOCKS--AMERICA INCLINES TO NEUTRALITY--GERMAN AND FRENCH
TREATMENT OF NEUTRALS CONTRASTED--EXPERIENCES OF AMERICANS ABROAD AND
ENROUTE HOME--STATUE OF LIBERTY TAKES ON NEW BEAUTY--BLOOD OF NEGRO AND
WHITE TO FLOW.
Those who had followed the Kaiser's attitudes and their reflections
preceeding the war in the German military party, were struck by a
strange blending of martial glory and Christian compunction. No one
prays more loudly than the hypocrite and none so smug as the devil when
a saint he would be.
During long years the military machine had been under construction.
Human ingenuity had been reduced to a remarkable state of organization
and efficiency. One of the principal phases of Kultur was the
inauguration of a sort of scientific discipline which made the German
people not only soldiers in the field, but soldiers in the workshop, in
the laboratory and at the desk. The system extended to the schools and
universities and permeated the thought of the nation. It particularly
was reflected in the home; the domestic arrangements and customs of the
people. The German husband was the commander-in-chief of his household.
It was not that benevolent lordship which the man of the house assumes
toward his wife and family in other nations. The stern note of command
was always evident; that attitude of "attention!" "eyes front!" and
unquestioning obedience.
German women always were subordinate to their husbands and the male
members of their families. It was not because the man made the living
and supported the woman. Frequently the German woman contributed as much
towards the support of the family as the males; it was because the
German male by the system which had been inculcated into him, regarded
himself as a superior being and his women as inferiors, made for
drudgery, for child-bearing, and for contributors to his comforts and
pleasures. His attitude was pretty much like that of the American Indian
towards his squaw.
Germany was the only nation on earth pretending to civilization in which
women took the place of beasts of burden. They not only worked in the
fields, but frequently pulled the plow and other implements of
agriculture. It was not an uncommon sight in Germany to see a woman and
a large dog harnessed together drawing a milk cart. When it became
necessary to deliver the milk the woman slipped her part of the harness,
served the customer, resumed her harness and went on to the next stop.
In Belgium, in Holland and in France, women delivered the milk also, but
the cart always was drawn by one or two large dogs or other animals and
the woman was the driver. In Austria it was a strange sight to
foreigners, but occasioned no remark among the people, to see women
drawing carts and wagons in which were seated their lords and masters.
Not infrequently the boss wielded a whip.
The pride of the German nation was in its efficient workmen. Friends of
the country and its system have pointed to the fact of universal labor
as its great virtue; because to work is good. Really, they were
compelled to work. Long hours and the last degree of efficiency were
necessary in order to meet the requirements of life and the tremendous
burdens of taxation caused by the army, the navy, the fortifications and
the military machine in general; to say nothing of the expense of
maintaining the autocratic pomp of the Kaiser, his sons and satellites.
Every member of the German family had his or her task, even to the
little three-year-old toddler whose business it was to look after the
brooms, dust rags and other household utensils. There was nothing of
cheerfulness or even of the dignity of labor about this. It was hard,
unceasing, grinding toil which crushed the spirits of the people. It was
part of the system to cause them to welcome war as a diversion.
To the German mind everything had an aspect of seriousness. The people
took their pleasures seriously. On their holidays, mostly occasions on
which they celebrated an event in history or the birthday of a monarch
or military hero, or during the hours which they could devote to
relaxation, they gathered with serious, stolid faces in beer gardens. If
they danced it was mostly a cumbersome performance. Generally they
preferred to sit and blink behind great foaming tankards and listen to
intellectual music. No other nation had such music. It was so
intellectual in itself that it relieved the listeners of the necessity
of thinking. There was not much of melody in it; little of the dance
movement and very little of the lighter and gayer manifestations of
life. It has been described as a sort of harmonious discord, typifying
mysterious, tragic and awe-inspiring things. The people sat and ate
their heavy food and drank their beer, their ears engaged with the
strains of the orchestra, their eyes by the movements of the conductor,
while their tired brains rested and digestion proceeded.
To the average German family a picnic or a day's outing was a serious
affair. The labor of preparation was considerable and then they covered
as much of the distance as possible by walking in order to save carfare.
In the parade was the tired, careworn wife usually carrying one,
sometimes two infants in her arms. The other children lugged the lunch
baskets, hammocks, umbrellas and other paraphernalia. At the head of the
procession majestically marched the lord of the outfit, smoking his
cigar or pipe; a suggestion of the goose-step in his stride, carrying
nothing, except his dignity and military deportment. With this kind of
start the reader can imagine the good time they all had.
MILITARISM AND AUTOCRACY DOOMED Joy to the German mind in mass was an
unknown quantity. The literature on which they fed was heavier and more
somber than their music. When the average German tried to be gay and
playful he reminded one of an elephant trying to caper. Their humor in
the main, manifested itself in coarse and vulgar jests.
For athletics they had their turn vereins in which men went through
hard, laborious exercises which made them muscle-bound. Their favorite
sports were hunting and fencing--the desire to kill or wound. They rowed
some but they knew nothing of baseball, boxing, tennis, golf or the
usual sports so popular with young men in England, France and America.
Aside from fencing, they had not a sport calculated to produce agility
or nimbleness of foot and brain.
Their emotions expanded and their sentiments thrilled at the spectacle
of war. Uniforms, helmets and gold lace delighted their eyes. The
parade, the guard mount, the review were the finest things they knew. To
a people trained in such a school and purposely given great burdens that
they might attain fortitude, war was second nature. They welcomed it as
a sort of pastime.
In the system on which Kultur was based, it was necessary to strike
deeply the religious note; no difference if it was a false note. The
German ear was so accustomed to discord it could not recognize the true
from the false. The Kaiser was heralded to his people as a deeply
religious man. In his public utterances he never failed to call upon God
to grant him aid and bless his works.
One of the old traditions of the Fatherland was that the king, being
specially appointed by God, could do no wrong. To the thinking portion
of the nation this could have been nothing less than absurd fallacy, but
where the majority do not think; if a thing is asserted strongly and
often enough, they come to accept it. It becomes a belief. The people
had become so impressed with the devoutness of the Kaiser and his
assumption of Divine guidance, that the great majority of them believed
the kaiser was always right; that he could do no wrong. When the great
blow of war finally was struck the Kaiser asked his God to look down and
bless the sword that he had drawn; a prayer altogether consistent coming
from his lips, for the god he worshipped loved war, was a god of famine,
rapine and blood. From the moment of that appeal, military autocracy and
absolute monarchy were doomed. It took time, it took lives, it took more
treasure than a thousand men could count in a lifetime. But the assault
had been against civilization, on the very foundation of all that
humanity had gained through countless centuries. The forces of light
were too strong for it; would not permit it to triumph.
The President of the United States, from the bedside of his dying wife,
appealed to the nations for some means of reaching peace for Europe. The
last thoughts of his dying helpmate, were of the great responsibility
resting upon her husband incident to the awful crisis in the lives of
the nations of earth, that was becoming more pronounced with each second
of time.
The Pope was stricken to death by the great calamity to civilization. A
few minutes before the end came he said that the Almighty in His
infinite mercy was removing him from the world to spare him the anguish
of the awful war.
The first inclination of America was to be neutral. She was far removed
from the scenes of strife and knew little of the hidden springs and
causes of the war. Excepting in the case of a few of her public men; her
editors, professors and scholars, European politics were as a sealed
book. The president of the United States declared for neutrality; that
individual and nation should avoid the inflaming touch of the war
passion. We kept that attitude as long as was consistent with national
patience and the larger claims of HUMANITY and universal JUSTICE.
As an evidence of our lack of knowledge of the impending conflict, a
party of Christian men were on the sea with the humanitarian object in
view of attending a world's peace conference in Constance,
Germany--Germany of all places, then engaged in trying to burn up the
world. Arriving in Paris, the party received its first news that a great
European war was about to begin. Steamship offices were being stormed by
crowds of frantic American tourists. Martial law was declared. The
streets were alive with soldiers and weeping women. Shops were closed,
the clerks having been drafted into the army. The city hummed with
militarism.
Underneath the excitement was the stern, stoic attitude of the French in
preparing to meet their old enemy, combined with their calmness in
refraining from outbreaks against German residents of Paris. One of the
party alluding to the incongruous position in which the peace delegates
found themselves, said:
"It might be interesting to observe the unique and almost humorous
situation into which these peace delegates were thrown. Starting
out a week before with the largest hope and most enthusiastic
anticipation of effecting a closer tie between nations, and
swinging the churches of Christendom into a clearer alignment
against international martial attitudes, we were instantly
'disarmed,' bound, and cast into chains of utter helplessness, not
even feeling free to express the feeblest sentiment against the
high rising tide of military activity. We were lost on a
tempestuous sea; the dove of peace had been beaten, broken winged
to shore, and the olive branch lost in its general fury."
Describing conditions in Paris on August 12, he says:
"We are in a state of tense expectation, so acute that it dulls the
senses; Paris is relapsing into the condition of an audience
assisting at a thrilling drama with intolerably long entr'acts,
during which it tries to think of its own personal affairs.
"We know that pages of history are being rapidly engraved in steel,
written in blood, illuminated in the margin with glory on a
background of heroism and suffering, not more than a few score
miles away.
"The shrieking camelots (peddlers) gallop through the streets
waving their news sheets, but it is almost always news of
twenty-four hours ago. The iron hand of the censor reduces the
press to a monotonous repetition of the same formula. Only
headlines give scope for originality. Of local news there is none.
There is nothing doing in Paris but steady preparation for meeting
contingencies by organizing ambulances and relief for the poor."
From the thousands of tales brought back by American tourists caught in
Germany at the outbreak of the war, there is more than enough evidence
that they were not treated with that courtesy manifested towards them by
the French. They were arrested as spies, subjected to all sorts of
embarrassments and indignities; their persons searched, their baggage
and letters examined, and frequently were detained for long periods
without any explanation being offered. When finally taken to the
frontier, they were not merely put across--frequently they were in a
sense thrown across.
Nor were the subjects of other nations, particularly those with which
Germany was at war, treated with that fine restraint which characterized
the French. Here is an account by a traveller of the treatment of
Russian subjects:
"We left Berlin on the day Germany declared war against Russia. Within
seventy-five miles of the frontier, 1,000 Russians in the train by
which they were travelling were turned out of the carriage and
compelled to spend eighteen hours without food in an open field
surrounded by soldiers with fixed bayonets.
"Then they were placed in dirty cattle wagons, about sixty men, women
and children to a wagon, and for twenty-eight hours were carried about
Prussia without food, drink or privacy. In Stettin they were lodged in
pig pens, and next morning were sent off by steamer to Rugen, whence
they made their way to Denmark and Sweden without money or luggage.
Sweden provided them with food and free passage to the Russian
frontier. Five of our fellow-passengers went mad."
The steamship Philadelphia--note the name, signifying brotherly love, so
completely lost sight of in the conflict--was the first passenger liner
to reach America after the beginning of the European war. A more
remarkable crowd never arrived in New York City by steamship or train.
There were men of millions and persons of modest means who had slept
side by side on the journey over; voyagers with balances of tens of
thousands of dollars in banks and not a cent in their pocketbooks; men
able and eager to pay any price for the best accommodations to be had,
yet satisfied and happy sharing bunks in the steerage.
There were women who had lost all baggage and had come alone, their
friends and relatives being unable to get accommodations on the vessel.
There were children who had come on board with their mothers, with
neither money nor reservations, who were happy because they had received
the very best treatment from all the steamship's officers and crew and
because they had enjoyed the most comfortable quarters to be had,
surrendered by men who were content to sleep in most humble
surroundings, or, if necessary, as happened in a few cases, to sleep on
the decks when the weather permitted.
Wealthy, but without funds, many of the passengers gave jewelry to the
stewards and other employees of the steamship as the tips which they
assumed were expected even in times of stress. The crew took them
apologetically, some said they were content to take only the thanks of
the passengers. One woman of wealth and social position, without money,
and having lost her check book with her baggage, as had many others of
the passengers, gave a pair of valuable bracelets to her steward with
the request that he give them to his wife. She gave a hat--the only one
she managed to take with her on her flight from Switzerland--to her
stewardess.
The statue of Liberty never looked so beautiful to a party of Americans
before. The strains of the Star Spangled Banner, as they echoed over the
waters of the bay, were never sweeter nor more inspiring. As the
Philadelphia approached quarrantine, the notes of the American anthem
swelled until, as she slowed down to await the coming of the physicians
and customs officials, it rose to a great crescendo which fell upon the
ears of all within many hundred yards and brought an answering chorus
from the throngs who waited to extend their hands to relatives and
friends.
There was prophecy in the minds of men and women aboard that ship. Some
of them had been brought into actual contact with the war; others very
near it. In the minds of all was the vision that liberty, enlightenment
and all the fruits of progress were threatened; that if they were to be
saved, somehow, this land typified the spirit of succor; somehow the aid
was to proceed from here.
Liberty never had a more cherished meaning to men of this Republic. In
the minds of many the conviction had taken root, that if autocracy and
absolute monarchy were to be overthrown; that "government of the people,
by the people, for the people" should "not perish from the earth," it
would eventually require from America that supreme sacrifice in devotion
and blood that at periods in the growth and development of nations, is
their last resort against the menace of external attack, and, regardless
of the reflections of theorists and philosophers, the best and surest
guarantee of their longevity; that the principles upon which they were
builded were something more than mere words, hollow platitudes, meaning
nothing, worthy of nothing, inspiring nothing. It was the dawning of a
day; new and strange in its requirements of America whose isolation and
policy, as bequeathed by the fathers, had kept it aloof from the
bickerings and quarrels of the nations that composed the "Armed Camp" of
Europe, during which, as subsequent events proved, the blood of the
Caucasian and the Negro would upon many a hard fought pass; many a
smoking trench in the battle zone of Europe, run together in one rivulet
of departing life, for the guarantee of liberty throughout all the
earth, and the establishment of justice at its uttermost bounds and
ends.