THE MILITARISTS AND THE MILITARIZED
To properly understand the German mentality one must turn to the
country’s military history. Germany–that is, Prussia and her forty
millions of people; a few smaller kingdoms such as Bavaria, Saxony, and
Wurtemburg; and some fifteen lesser States–was federated in 1871. In
1864 Prussia made victorious war against Denmark. In 1866 she carried
on another victorious campaign against Austria. Then, in 1870, after
an exceedingly adroit diplomatic campaign which assured the neutrality
of the other great nations of Europe, she, by the falsification of a
despatch, inaugurated the Franco-Prussian war. She dragged into it the
other German States right under the walls of Paris, and at Versailles
founded the German Empire, comprising twenty-six States, with the King
of Prussia proclaimed as Emperor.
She was at the zenith of her power. Bismarck the statesman, Von
Moltke the soldier, were hailed as demigods after the conclusion of a
treaty which wrested from France two of her Provinces and imposed an
indemnity of five billions; these two men were held up to the universal
admiration of the German people.
The artistic sense and idealism which had impregnated the German soul
up to this period, even–which seems impossible now–under Frederic II.,
now gave way to the new-born Positivism. Bismarck had said: “Might is
right,” and “One has only the right that Force can sanction.” These
maxims had justified those who framed them in 1864, 1866, and again
in 1870. Henceforward for the Emperor, for his entourage, for the
hundreds of thousands of officers, war was to be an element, a factor,
and the chief author of the nation’s grandeur. This was the spirit
which dominated the classes, and it must be introduced to, and spread
amongst, the masses. Literature, science and the arts were made to
contribute to the work of this new formation. But it was chiefly
through education and legislation that the new principle was expounded.
Veterans of the war of 1870 became so many tutors who trained the mind
of the rising generation. The children were taken regularly to the
museums where they were shown the flags and cannons taken from the
enemy.
An old officer was showing these trophies to his two grandsons.
“Who is our enemy?” he asked.
“France,” replied the boys.
“We defeated them, did we not?”
“Surely.”
“And we shall defeat all our enemies, present and future,” the veteran
declared.
“Yes,” the children agreed.
“You are good and true children of the Fatherland,” their grandfather
told them.
The standard reading-books in all the schools were full of
stories recounting valiant and successful exploits of the German
soldiers–cavalry charges, the taking of cities by storm, epic
encounters with swords, all leading up to the exultant conclusion that
the glory of German arms had dazzled the world. The intellects of the
youth were thus impregnated, saturated, with principles of militarism
from the first days at school. And if one dared venture to raise a
voice against the “sanctus sanctorum” of the caste born of the spirit
of Bismarck and Von Moltke, he was silenced by force. Was not Germany,
like Pygmalion, surrounded by enemies who were ever ready to pounce
upon and crush her? Therefore all must be prepared to advance every
means for self-defence. Everything undertaken to build up the enormous
mechanism of the barracks and the munition factories was for protection
and self-preservation. Against whom? Against a world of enemies. This
was the bogey which the pan-German press paraded before a population
stricken with terror. The next war was to be, as appearances were
represented, one of defence. Military and civilians of this caste,
estimated then at half a million adults, while seeking to hide their
real intentions from the rest of the German population, of course from
the people of other countries, always invoked the name of Bismarck.
He was made the great national hero. And what does Bismarck say? First
that “Might is Right,” and then that “War is the negation of order.”
Why does he say this? Everybody knows now. It is an old story. Wait.
The Man of Iron has a purpose. Read further: “The most efficient means
to force an enemy nation to sue for peace is to devastate its territory
and terrorize its civil population.”
This new theory, based on the victory of 1870, so obtained, raised
very little protest in Germany. It is monstrous, but it is true. And
the disciples of Bismarck, having elaborated a finished theory on his
guilty words and deeds, first shocked the good people of Germany,
but the people soon became reconciled to the new faith. In short, a
credulous people allowed themselves to be carried away by this wave of
militarism which spread into the remotest corners of the territory.
As for the military caste itself, its members quite believed their
prodigious preparedness of forty years was destined to make Germany
mistress of the universe. As for the masses, they were led to believe
that all the preparations were a means of defence and protection. The
sinister designs of the schemers were concealed from the eyes of the
credulous, and those of the masses who realized the actual game of the
ringleaders in the Empire dared not ask any questions. One is governed
or is not governed. And these people were being governed.
Moreover, why trouble one’s conscience? Had not this system justified
itself in 1870? These two Provinces, these five billions of moneys,
wrested, extorted from France, were they not the two determining
factors in the tremendous industrial impulsion which would open the
gates to Germany’s commercial preponderance in all the markets of the
world? No wonder the masses kept silent.
Intensive militarism, then, became a religion of the State.
Philosophers, litterateurs, and historians having done all they could
to attain the dreamed-of purpose, others followed their lead. Each
and every discovery in mechanics, optics, chemistry was studied and
tested by its respective author in the light of the possibility of its
practical adaptability and utility in the work of destruction.
The works of art also showed the effects of the enveloping atmosphere.
The Kaiser’s only daughter paraded in the uniform of a Hussar, while
her august father talked of “keeping the powder dry.” One day, on his
own domains at harvest time, he was seized by mad admiration at the
sight of the millions of ears of golden corn.
“They remind me,” he said, “of the ocean of lances of my Uhlans.”
On another occasion, during a hunt near the French frontier, when the
Kaiser was surrounded as usual by sycophants and toadies attired in
all the resplendence of their military uniforms, the then Most Highest
allowed a mysterious word to escape his lips. Having half drawn his
sword, he snapped it back into its scabbard and exclaimed:
“They tremble in Europe.”
Then he burst out laughing.
And now came the decade which preceded the world war. Germany rejected
Great Britain’s proposal that each side should limit its naval armament
and halt for a while. Convinced at this time that her tremendous
military machine was not only invincible, but irresistible, Germany
applied herself feverishly to a mad rush of naval construction with
the object of making her shores intangible. The idea was that in this
way Britain would be kept quiet and Germany would be able to proceed
to crush the Franco-Russian entente and obtain continental domination.
From this to universal control only one step was required.
This was what the German military caste had in mind–that is to say,
the Kaiser, the Crown Prince, and the 40,000 or 50,000 officers
and civilians recruited from the nobility, high society, from the
professions and the educated officials. And the crowd–the masses–would
go to sleep each evening blinded to the facts, but convinced that
numberless enemies were preparing to pounce covertly on their
Fatherland.
The great hope of the German Government from 1908 to 1914 was to get
the war started without it being apparent that Germany provoked it.
But as so often repeated to us by that fine Swiss fellow, Hinterman,
who was interned with us, the artifices of the Germans are easily seen
through. And all the scheming of the events which preceded the invasion
of Belgium, however clever it was, will not prevent history from
bringing against William Hohenzollern and his entourage a verdict of
guilty.
The interview at Potsdam, on July 5, 1914, in which the Kaiser and the
Austrian delegates took part; the ultimatum to Serbia; the refusal of
Austria to accept the very satisfactory and conciliating answer of
Serbia–and this without previous consultation with Germany–does not
all this show that everything was decided on July 5, aforesaid? The
rejection by Germany of the proposal for a conference made by Sir
Edward Grey, British Minister of Foreign Affairs; the hesitations,
the subterfuges of Von Jagow towards Monsieur Cambon, the French
Ambassador; the entering of German troops into Belgium during the night
of July 31–that is to say two days before the ultimatum of former
Emperor William to the King of Belgium; the telegraphic correspondence
between the Tsar of Russia, King George, and William II., all, indeed,
carries on its face the stamp of Germany’s duplicity.
Of the underhand methods of the authors of the plot and murder at
Serajevo, impartial history will tell later.
The mass of the German population when apprised of these historical
facts disentangled from all pan-Germanic camouflage will not hesitate
to stand as accusers of the real authors of the war; of those, finally,
who were the cause of the collective aberration of the nation.
The flight of the Imperial family and the high officers to Holland will
not prevent them from escaping the abhorrence of the German people. Can
there be a more exemplary and a more bitter punishment at the same
time than that meted out to a sovereign by his own subjects?
A portion of this industrious and frugal people undoubtedly allowed
themselves to be deceived by their rulers who betrayed them on a
pretence of defence; another portion yielded to the temptation for
gain and conquest; a few of them allowed themselves, perhaps–Oh, human
weakness!–to be fascinated by visions of universal domination, but we
are willing to believe that the great majority were but blind tools in
the hands of an ambitious militarism.
The allied nations have won a complete, decisive, definite victory. The
last head of the hydra of militarism seems to have been battered down
for all time.
May peace now be restored for ever among men of good will! But in order
to obtain this end, the flag to be hoisted on civilization by the
League of Nations will have to bear in its folds the words: Justice,
Toleration, Magnanimity!
Justice, that is to say, punishment for the guilty, for the criminals,
for the authors of the slaughtering and devastation.
Justice, that is to say, restitution and reparation. Justice, that
is to say, indemnity for the millions of women and children who are
deprived of their main support.
And why, some will ask, should I speak here of magnanimity? Does not
the entire people of Germany and of her allies deserve the most severe
condemnation?
In uttering here this word “magnanimity,” I only reflect the thought
expressed by the leaders of the three great allied countries, on the
day following the armistice: Lloyd George, Clemenceau, and Woodrow
Wilson.
And as Mr. Winston Churchill declared on the 4th of July last, at
Westminster: “We are bound to the principles for which we are
fighting. Those principles alone will enable us to use with wisdom
and with justice the victory which we shall gain. Whatever the extent
of our victory, those principles would protect the German people. We
could not treat them as they have treated Alsace-Lorraine or Belgium or
Russia, or as they would treat us all if they had the power.”
It is because the population of a country is composed for the most part
of women and children, and because we could not, without stooping to
the level of the methods employed in Belgium, for example, make war
against women, against children, against property.
Justice will have a field of operations large enough, if it wishes, to
reach the conscious authors of the war and of the deeds incompatible
with humanitarian principles and contrary to international laws.
(The End.)
End of Project Gutenberg's My Three Years in a German Prison, by Henri Beland