CHAPTER VII

GERMAN IDEALS AND ORGANIZATION

When wars begin between nations we usually see the leaders of thought

on each side busy developing distrust among their own citizens for the

people against whom they are fighting. In accordance with this fact,

the people of the United States have read a great deal since August,

1914, to make them think very unkindly of Germany.

This chapter is not a plea for the Germans, and I agree that they did

unnecessarily cruel and impossible things in Belgium. It is not to be

denied that they played a most unwise part in the war game, when they

tried to steal a march on France by invading through Belgium, a thing

they were pledged not to do. It pays to keep faith; and when a nation

does not keep faith other nations have no recourse but to treat it as

if it were a pirate. If they do otherwise, the whole game will become

a pirate’s game, and good faith will disappear from international

relations. If Germany may violate Belgium at will, why may she not

violate Switzerland, Holland, or any other state that stands in her

way; and who would not expect her to do it, if no powers faced her that

were willing and able to dispute her will?

It is not improbable that German leaders understood this as well as we

who now pass it under review. They must have made their calculations on

arousing the opposition of the world and proceeded with the expectation

that they would gain so much by their sweep through forbidden Belgium

that they could defy the world. And if things had gone well for them,

the calculation would have been well made. For if Germany had carried

France off her feet and placed her in a position to offer no further

menace during the next ten years, and if she had dealt a similar blow

to Russia, what power could have checked her in the future decade? By

glancing at the situation in Europe today we may see how an intrenched

Germany defies the united and unwhipped world. How much more might she

not have had her way, if the thrust through Belgium had succeeded!

Let us suppose that the game of bad faith had proved successful as

planned, what would have been the result? Probably Great Britain would

have wakened slowly to her peril, but her position was such that she

could have done nothing. Her fleet would have been useless against an

enemy that rules on land. Her army could not have met the combined

Teutonic armies, and she would have had no allies. Meanwhile, Germany

and Austria at their leisure could have digested the Balkans and

drawing Turkey into their net could have established a “Mittel-Europa”

that would have left the rest of the world at their mercy. These were

alluring stakes to play for, and it is not hard to see how a nation

whose leaders have thrown aside the homely motto that “Righteousness

exalteth a nation” would be willing to take a chance in order to obtain

them.

When we think of such things as these we are in danger of concluding

that they represent the real Germany. We look back to that Germany of

the past which we saw in our youth, whose music we have heard all our

lives, whose Goethe we have read, whose scholarship we have built upon,

and whose toys have amused us and our children through many decades

and ask ourselves whether or not we were mistaken in our ideas of

Germany. Are there two Germanies, and if so, which is the true Germany?

Probably the answer is that each is the real Germany manifesting

herself in different moods. Fundamentally we have an intense and

emotional people, swayed in one instance by artistic emotions, in

another by the love of exact research for facts, in another by the

feeling of domesticity, and in still another by the powerful impulse

of a great national egoism. They are a people who can love much,

hate much, play much, sacrifice much, and serve well when called

into service. In their war-maddened mood they have stained a fair

reputation, and they are now trying to think that the stain will not

matter if they can only fight through to victory. But nations are like

men in this that however successful one may become personally he never

gets to be so great that he can afford to carry a tarnished reputation.

Let us turn to the Germany of old and see if we cannot observe the

process by which she came to her present state of mind. While I realize

that it is absolutely necessary for the world to crush her attempt

to rule Europe, I cannot find it in my heart to hate her. She has

risen to such a state of efficiency in social organization and in the

capacity to spread the light of civilization that she commands respect

from thinking foes. It is the duty of the world to chasten the spirit

of arrogance out of her, but to leave her sound and able to deal with

the future in that way in which she is so well fitted to play a strong

and beneficial part. If ever a great people needed the discipline of

disaster to teach them that nations, like men, should do to others as

they wish others to do to them, that nation is the Germany of today. To

understand in what way this splendid state has run away from its past

we shall have to glance at its history in the recent past.

For a point of departure let us take the Seven Years’ War. This

struggle was the result of the ambition of young Frederick, a strong

and unethical king of Prussia. When he came to the throne he found

that a parsimonious father had left him a full treasury, an excellent

army, and a united kingdom, while fate had sent the neighboring state

Austria, a young woman for ruler and an army that was not formidable.

It was a favorable opportunity to seize Silesia, which Prussia

considered necessary to her welfare, and to which she had the flimsiest

pretense of right. The rapacity of Frederick, her king, cannot be

justified on moral grounds, and it threw Europe into commotions for

which nearly a quarter of a century was needed for settlement. The last

phase of this quarter-of-a-century was the Seven Years’ War, 1756-1763.

By the time it began Frederick of Prussia was looked upon by his

neighbors as a menace to Europe; and Austria, France, and Russia united

to crush him. He had a friend in Great Britain, who was generally found

among the foes of France. In the great war he waged through seven years

he fought off foes first on one side and then on the other until the

war ended at last with Prussia still unconquered.

If hard and valiant fighting and solicitude for the welfare of his

country could redeem the error of the invasion of Silesia the Seven

Years’ War would relieve Frederick, whom posterity calls “Frederick

the Great,” of all odium on account of the thoughtless way in which

he began his wars. Unlike the present kaiser, he began a long reign

rashly and ended it wisely. Administrative reforms and a policy of

peace with his neighbors made his last years a period of happiness for

Prussia.

But Silesia fixed a firm hold on the Prussian imagination. Long

justified as an act necessary to the safety of the Fatherland, and

therefore permissible, it has given sanction for the idea that wrong

may be done that good shall result, if only the state is to be

benefitted. It is a false doctrine, and it can do nothing but lead to

wars. Nations are under the same obligations to do right as individuals.

The next phase of German history which has interest for us in

connection with this study is that which lies between the years 1806

and 1813. It was a period of deep humiliation at the hands of Napoleon.

The small states were huddled together in a Confederation which was, in

fact, a tool of the Emperor of France, and Prussia lay like a trembling

and crushed thing in his hand. No living man who hates Germany for the

deeds of the present war could wish her a worse fate than Napoleon

inflicted on her after the battle of Jena in 1806. He insulted the

king, burdened the people with requisitions, and limited their armies.

It was the acme of national shame for the nation that is now so strong.

The cause of these woes was the lack of organization, and perhaps

Napoleon did the nation a service when he beat the Prussians into a

realization of it. No nation is so poor that it has not reformers who

see in what way its evils may be corrected. In the days that preceded

the calamities of which I speak Prussia had her prophets crying to deaf

men. Misfortune opened the ears of the rulers so that the prophets

might be heard. Reforms were adopted out of which has grown the Germany

of today. They all looked toward the unification of national energy,

whatever its form; but they are expressed in three notable ways:

universal military service, the correction of waste energy in civil

life, and the inculcation of the spirit of obedience to authority. On

these principles chiefly a new Germany was built.

We have said a great deal recently about crushing the German military

system. Probably we do not know just what we mean in saying this. At

least, it was not always our habit to decry the system. Many a time we

have spoken with admiration of the reforms of Scharnhorst, of the glory

of Leipzig and of the services of Blücher at Waterloo. If we stop to

think we shall see that our real objection is the purpose for which the

German military system has been used. And it seems that if it is to be

broken into pieces it must be opposed with a stronger system built on a

similar plan.

The next period that expresses Germany’s peculiar spirit is the era of

Bismarck, 1862 to 1890. It was the time of the cult of iron. Bismarck

was the “Iron Chancellor,” the nation offered its enemies “blood and

iron.” Iron cannon, iron words, and iron laws became the ideals of the

people. Statesmen, historians, poets, editors, professors, and all

other patriots began to worship according to the rite of the new cult.

And iron entered into the blood of the Germans.

To carry out Bismarck’s policy it was necessary to break down a

promising liberal movement that seemed on the point of giving Prussia

responsible government. It was his faith that a united Germany must

hew her way into the position of great power in Europe, and in order

to have a state that could do this there must be a strong central

authority, able to direct all the resources of the state to the

desired end. The large number of small nobles had long ago formed the

celebrated Junker autocracy, a body with like ideals. He gave their

restless energy a more definite political and military object, and made

them take places as parts of his great state machine.

He had his reward. In 1866 he fought a decisive war against Prussia’s

old enemy, Austria, and won it so quickly that even the Prussians were

astonished. In 1870-1871 he threw the state against France in a war

that left the land of Napoleon as completely at his feet as Prussia had

been at the feet of the Corsican. And then in the moment of exultation

over the victory he founded the German empire by uniting with Prussia

the numerous smaller German states. There is much to support the

suggestion that a similar stroke is held in reserve to create a

Mittel-Europa of Germany and Austria-Hungary as a final glory of the

present war, if Germany shows herself able to carry off the victory.

Bismarck’s ambition for Germany was to hold a position of arbiter in

Continental affairs. He felt that this was the best way to make his

country safe from hostile combinations, and it met his ideal of the

dignity to which Germany ought to attain. He achieved his desire in

the Three Emperors’ League and the Triple Alliance. Predominance in

influence was the height of his ambition. The conquest of new lands,

and the support of industry and trade by a policy of territorial

expansion, were not within his plans. He was a man of an older

generation to whom a predominance among the Great Powers was better

than chasing the rainbow of world empire.

In 1888 died Wilhelm I, the king whom Bismarck made Emperor. He was

an honest man who loved the simple and sound Germany in which he

was reared. At this time the leading men of 1871 were passing from

power and a group was coming on the scene who were young men in the

intoxicating times of Sedan and Metz. A new emperor came to the throne,

possessing great energy and the capacity of forming vast plans. He was

eleven years old when the empire was proclaimed at Versailles, the age

at which ordinary boys begin to wake from the dreams of childhood.

From such dreams Wilhelm II passed to dreams of imperial glory. The

idea of bigness of authority that he thus formed has remained with him

to this day. Add the effects of an impulsive disposition and an unusual

amount of confidence in himself and you will account for the peculiar

gloss spread over a character that is strong and otherwise wholesome.

Early in his reign he gave ground for alarm by several acts that are

hardly to be described in a less severe word than “bumptious.” He

dismissed Bismarck from the Chancellorship, seemingly for no other

reason than that he wished a chancellor who would be more obedient to

the imperial will, and he uttered many sentiments which caused sober

men to wonder what kind of emperor he was going to be. But as the years

passed it was noticed that all his aberrations fell short of disaster,

and as he was very energetic and devoted to efficiency in civil and

military matters the world came at last to regard him with real esteem.

When the present war began the kaiser became its leader, as was his

duty and privilege. Opinion in hostile countries pronounced him the

agent responsible for its outbreak. Around his striking personality

have collected many stories of dark complexion. At this time it is not

possible to test their accuracy, but it is safe to say that many of

them are chiefly assumption. On the other hand, it is undoubted that he

is now a firm friend of the military party, and that he supports the

autocracy in its purpose to carry the war to the bitter end. He has

been a diligent war lord and he has shown a willingness to share the

sacrifices of the people. Stories of apparent reliability that have

come out of Germany in recent months imply that he has steadily gained

in popularity during the conflict, while most of the other members of

his family have lost.

If it is important to clear thinking to see the kaiser in an impartial

light, it is equally necessary to understand the German _Kultur_. This

term is used in Germany to indicate the mass of ideas and habits of

thought of a people. It applies to art and industry, to religion and

war, to whatever the human mind directs. From the German’s standpoint

we have a _Kultur_ of our own. We have no corresponding term, nor

concept, and we cannot realize all he means in using the term if we do

not put ourselves in his place. Now it is true that the German has won

great success in intellectual ways. Scholarship, scientific invention,

the application of art to industry, and well planned efficiency in

social organization are his in a large degree. He is proud of his

achievements; and when the war began he felt that it was the German

mission to give this _Kultur_ to other peoples. From his standpoint, a

Germanized world would be a world made happy. It was an honest opinion,

and it went far to support his desire for expansion.

The Germans are a docile people with respect to their superiors,

and this trait is a condition of their _Kultur_. It is traditional

in Germany for the peasant to obey his lord, the lord to obey his

over-lord, and the over-lord to obey his ruler. To the kaiser look

all the people in a sense which no citizen of the United States can

understand without using a fair amount of imagination. The lords and

over-lords constitute the _Junkers_, who in the modern military system

make up the officer class. A high sense of authority runs through the

whole population, the upper classes knowing how to give orders and the

lower classes knowing how to take them.

Before the battle of Jena, 1806, the Prussian army was made up of

peasants forced to serve under the nobles, who took the offices.

Townsmen were excluded from the army. The peasant’s forced service

lasted twenty years. The system was as inefficient as it was unequal,

and a commission was appointed to reform it. The result was the modern

system of universal service, put into complete operation in 1813. After

a hundred years it is possible to see some of the effects of the system

on the ideals of the people. It has taught them to work together in

their places, formed habits of promptness and cleanliness, and lessened

the provincialism of the lower classes. It has been a great training

school in nationalism, preserving the love of country and instilling in

the minds of the masses a warm devotion to the military traditions of

the nation.

It has also produced results of a questionable value. By fostering

the military spirit it has developed a desire for war, on the same

principle that a boy in possession of a sharp hatchet has a strong

impulse to hack away at his neighbor’s shrubbery. It is probable

that the temptation to use a great and superior army was a vital fact

in bringing on the present war. Furthermore, the wide-spread habit

of docility leaves a people without self-assertion and enables their

rulers to impose upon them. As to the influence of universal service in

promoting militarism, that has been frequently mentioned.

On the other hand, it should be borne in mind that not all states that

have had universal military training have been saddled with these

evils. France, for example, has had universal training without becoming

obsessed with the passion for war and without the loss of popular

individualism. It seems well to say that universal training itself does

not produce the evils sometimes attributed to it. In Germany, at least,

it seems that it was the purpose for which the army existed, and not

the army itself, that developed militarism and brought other unhappy

effects.

Probably the German army before the war was the most efficient great

human machine then in existence. There was less waste in it and less

graft than in any other army. Since the army included all the men of

the empire at some stage or other of their existence, it was a great

training school in organization. Its effects on German history are

hardly to be exaggerated.

I have said that military organization alone was not sufficient to make

the modern Germany. It was also necessary to give the nation a definite

national purpose, and this was the task of its intellectual leaders.

The purpose itself was expressed in the idea of German nationality.

By a bold stretch of fancy every part of Europe that had once been

ruled by Germans, that spoke the German language, or that could be

considered as a part that ought to speak that language was fixed upon

as territory to be brought within the authority of the Fatherland.

It was in accordance with this principle that Schleswig-Holstein was

taken from Denmark in 1864 and Alsace-Lorraine in 1871. Here the

march of annexation paused. Bismarck was too wise to carry the theory

to an extreme; but a growing number of writers and speakers in the

empire took up the idea and kept it before the people with winning

persistence. It is thus that Pan-Germanism has come to be one of the

great facts in German public opinion. By preaching race unity with

patriotic zeal the intellectual leaders have established a powerful

propaganda of expansion.

Of the men most prominently associated with this movement especial

attention must be given to Heinrich von Treitschke, for years professor

of Modern and Contemporary History at the University of Berlin, whose

remarkable influence reached all classes of people. He was a handsome

man with an open face that invited admiration without appearing to

care whether it was given or not. When he spoke the auditor heard “a

raucous, half-strangled, uneasy voice” and noticed that his movements

were mechanical and his utterances were without regard to the pauses

that usually stand for commas and periods, while his pleasant facial

expression had no apparent relation to what he was saying. The

explanation was that he was so deaf that he did not hear himself speak.

That such a speaker could fire the heart of a nation is evidence that

he was filled with unusual earnestness and sympathy.

He had great love of country, and if he exalted royalty and strong

government it was because he thought that Germany would reach her

highest authority through them. It was no selfish or incompetent king

that he worshiped, but one that lived righteously and sought diligently

to promote the interest of the people. He held that the nobility should

serve as thoroughly as the common men. Strong government in his idea

did not mean privilege, as ordinarily understood, but vital energy in

all the organs of administration, efficiently directed by a will that

was not hampered by the contrarywise tugging of individual opinions.

Treitschke’s penetrating eloquence was heard throughout the land.

Editors, preachers of religion, schoolmasters, authors, members of

the legislative assemblies, high officials, and even ministers of

state came to his class-room and went away to carry his ideas into

other channels. He inspired the men who did the actual thinking for

the nation. All his efforts were expended for what he considered the

enhancement of Germany’s position among nations.

In giving him his due we must not overlook his faults. He was narrow

in his ideas of international relations. His exaltation of Germany

would have left other nations at her mercy. He seems to have had small

respect for the principle of live-and-let-live among states. As much as

any one in his country he was responsible for the idea that the British

are a pack of hypocrites, offering inferior races the Bible with one

hand and opium with the other. That they had not a good record with

respect to the opium trade is true, but it was sheer narrowness to make

it the chief characteristic of a people who have done a great work in

behalf of the backward races.

Although Treitschke wrote many pamphlets on topics of current interest,

all bearing upon what he considered the destiny of Germany, he was

preëminently a historian. It was by telling the story of Germany since

the revival of national feeling after the battle of Jena that he wished

to serve best the generation in which he lived. For him it was the

historian to whom was committed the task of making the citizen realize

what place he had in the nation’s complex of duties and hopes.

He came upon the scene when history had become fixed upon the basis of

accuracy and detached research. Men like Leopold von Ranke had insisted

that history should deal with the cold exploitation of universal laws.

For them Treitschke was a bad historian, and they used their influence

to prevent his appointment at the University of Berlin. He was a

Chauvinist, undoubtedly, and his _History of Germany in the Nineteenth

Century_ is a highly colored picture of what he conceived the reader

should know about the history of his country. It is a work written to

arouse the enthusiasm of the people for their country, rather than

to instruct them in the universal laws of human development; and it

would be a sad day for the world if all history were written as he

wrote this. But it was a powerful appeal to national pride and energy.

It played a great part in the formation of the Germany with which

we are concerned in this chapter, the striving, self-confident, and

aspiring empire that set for itself the task of dominating the European

continent.

This chapter is not written to reconcile American readers to the German

side of the controversy that now engages the attention of all men. I

wish to enable the reader to have a clear view of the people with whom

we fight. It is they with whom we must deal in building up the system

out of which the future is to be constructed again; and we shall not

know how to deal with them if we do not see their point of view and

know what they are thinking about.

If in some of their ideals they are superior to other peoples, and if

their organization of individuals into the state has some elements

of strength not found in other systems, it is not for us to seek to

destroy the advantage they have won. It would be better for us to adopt

their good points, in order that we might the more surely defeat them

on the field of battle. Having won the victory we desire, we should

certainly not seek to destroy that which we cannot replace. Live and

let live, a principle which Germans have ignored in some important

respects, must be recognized after the military ambition of Germany is

broken, if we are to have an enduring peace.

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