Friedrich Curtius, of Strassburg, had attained such
distinction at the beginning of the century that Prince
Chlodwig of Hohenlohe-Schillingfuerst, who succeeded Count
Caprivi as Chancellor of the German Empire, on his
retirement in 1900, asked Curtius to co-operate with him in
the preparation of the _Memoirs_ (New York, The Macmillan
Co., 1906) which have since become famous. But the joint
work was brought to a sudden end by Prince Hohenlohe's
death, and Friedrich Curtius devoted himself, for the next
six or seven years, to the completion of the unfinished
task. When the _Memoirs_ were finally published, first in
America and then in Germany, they were so outspoken as to
bring down on Prince Alexander Hohenlohe and Friedrich
Curtius the disfavour of the Kaiser. This article by Curtius
appeared originally in the Deutsche Revue, May, 1915.
"_All the world must hate or love; no choice remains. The Devil is
neutral._"
So sang Clemens Brentano in the year 1813. Today, we once more realize
that the attempt to remain neutral through a conflict which is
deciding the history of the world not only brings great spiritual
difficulties, but is even felt to be a downright moral impossibility,
just as the poet saw it a hundred years ago. Legal neutrality is, of
course, a simple thing. Every state can itself practice it, and impose
it as a duty on its citizens. One may even think that modern states
should go further in this direction than they do. The indifference of
the Government toward the business transactions of its citizens with
foreign states is a political anomaly, comprehensible in an age when
foreign policy in war and peace was viewed as something that concerned
the ruler only, but contradictory in a democratic age, when wars are
peoples' wars. Today, in all civilized states, the Government is
morally answerable for those activities of its subjects which have
international results. The American policy which permits the supply of
weapons to England but allows England to prevent the export of grain
to Germany, is a bad neutrality, morally untenable, a mere passivity,
which lacks the will to do right. Such a standpoint might exist in a
despotically governed state, but in a democratic Republic it is
incomprehensible. For, from a genuinely democratic point of view, it
does not signify whether the government or the citizens intervene to
help or to hinder in an armed conflict. If we venture to speak at the
right time of the development of international law, this, before all,
must be demanded: that neutral states shall forbid the export of
weapons, and that belligerents shall not hinder the import of
foodstuffs for civilian populations.
Meanwhile the insecurity of the international attitude of neutrals is
only a symptom of the difficulties to which neutrality of view is
subject. These begin with the outbreak of the war. Each belligerent
government believes itself to be in the right, and publishes a
collection of documents which seem to it fitted to prove this right.
This literature appearing in all the colours of the spectrum is really
aimed at neutrals. For the belligerent nations themselves have
weightier matters in hand than to sit in judgment upon their own
governments. But the neutrals find themselves to decide which side is
right. Yet this whole idea of a "just war" (coming to us from the
moral philosophy of the Schoolmen) which shall expiate an injustice,
as the judge punishes crimes, is antiquated. When, in the middle ages,
the citizens of a town were maltreated or robbed by the authorities or
citizens of another town, and the guilty party refused satisfaction,
then the consequent feud might be viewed as a modified criminal case,
and the right of the wronged town to help itself must be recognized.
In exactly the same way, differences over questions of inheritance
between independent states could only be decided by force, where, as
in a civil suit, each party was convinced of its own justice. But the
great wars of our time arise from causes which are different from
their immediate occasions, from opposed interests which can only be
decided by discovering which side has the power to enforce its will.
If one wishes to ascribe the blame for a war to one of the parties,
one need only ask which of them pursued an aim which could not be
reached through a peaceful understanding. In the present war, we
Germans have clear consciences, for we know, concerning ourselves and
our government, that we strove for nothing but the maintenance of our
position as a world-power, bought with heavy sacrifices, and the free,
peaceful expansion of our sphere of action in the world. On the other
hand, Russia desired to get to Constantinople ahead of Berlin and
Vienna, France desired to win back Metz and Strassburg, England
desired to destroy our sea-power and commerce--goals which could only
be reached over prostrate Germany. On this understanding, it would not
be difficult for neutrals to arrive at a clear and just judgment. But
as the belligerents themselves did not announce their purposes, but
much rather took pains to turn public attention from the causes to the
occasion of the conflict, the judgment of neutrals is affected by
this, and if they are really impartial in their view, they suffer
morally under the burden of an insoluble problem. But if outspoken
sympathy draws them toward one of the belligerent powers, then their
judgment is as little objective as that of the belligerents
themselves. Their pretended neutrality gives to their expressions a
loathsome Pharisaical aspect, because they come to a decision
according to their opinions as if they stood on a height above the
contestants and, from this lofty standpoint, were holding an
anticipated Last Judgment on kings and statesmen.
The same phenomena show themselves with regard to judgments concerning
methods of warfare. It goes without saying that each belligerent party
reports all the atrocities which are committed by its opponents and is
silent as to its own shortcomings. Once more, neutrals feel compelled
to form a judgment, and therefore, if they are conscientious, read the
reports of both sides, and, as a result, find themselves in a
desperate situation, because it is impossible, from the assertions and
counter-assertions of the belligerents, to ascertain the actual facts
of the case. In practice, mere chance decides which set of reports one
comes across. And the exact proof of details is impossible to the most
zealous newspaper-reader. Therefore one's judgment remains
vacillating, and one is likely to come to this conclusion: to believe
nothing at all. Naturally, the case is different here also, if one is
previously in sympathy with one party. Then one believes the reports
coming from that side, and leaves out of consideration those that
stand against them. In this case, again, neutrals become as one-sided
as belligerents, without having the indubitable right to be one-sided
which the belligerents have.
And finally, in the decisive question, neutrality is excluded.
Whatever judgments one may form as to the cause of the war, and as to
methods of waging it, the final outcome is always the decisive factor.
Only a completely demoralized and stupid man can boast, in cynical
indifference, that the result of the war leaves him cold. Where
spiritual life functions, wishes and prayers, hopes and fears, are
passionately involved in the course of the mighty conflict. For it is
not a question whether this or that nation shall experience more
pleasure or pain, but the form of all Europe and of the world, for
long periods to come, will be fixed by the decision of this war. That
cannot be a matter of indifference for any thinking human being. An
equilibrium of view, a real neutrality is as little possible here as
it would have been in the Persian or Punic wars, or, a hundred years
ago, in the revolt of Europe, against the domination of Napoleon. He
who, invoking the neutrality of his state, does not takes sides in
this decisive question, debases himself and his people with him. For
to stand indifferent, taking no part in the mightiest events of
history, is a degradation of humanity.
The neutrals in this world-war are, therefore, to be pitied rather
than esteemed happy. Either they are only legally uncommitted, but
have, in feeling and thought, taken the side of one of the belligerent
parties: in which case it must weigh heavily on their hearts not to be
able to come out openly for that side and to aid it with all their
power; or they hold to neutrality as a positive political ideal: then
the ethical solution of the dark questions of the right and wrong of
the war, and the methods of warfare become a torturing and hopeless
problem, and, in considering the future, the weakness and
impracticability of what one has accepted as a legal precept becomes
evident.
If the world-war should last much longer, then neutrality, as such,
will probably go bankrupt. The economic injuries of the war weigh on
neutrals as heavily as on belligerents. But they are far harder to
bear when one has nothing to hope from the outcome of the war, when
one must make continued sacrifices in sheer passivity, without knowing
why. One would finally fall into despair, and accept anything that
would bring this intolerable condition to an end. We hope that this
extremity will not be reached, but rather that the decision of the war
will come early enough to permit neutrals to preserve their attitude.
That this should happen, is the common interest of mankind. For, in
the collective life of civilized nations, neutrals have their own
mission. Just because they share only the sufferings of the war, but
do not partake of its inspiring and exalting forces, they are, of
necessity, opponents of war, the providential mediators of the idea of
peace, of international understanding, of the development and
strengthening of international law. They can, during and after the
conclusion of peace--if they unite and go forward with clearly formed
ideals--have a notable effect. It will, in part, depend on their
wisdom and firmness, whether it will be possible, within a conceivable
time, to heal the deep wounds of humanity and international comity.