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THROUGH THE IRON BARS
Two years of German occupation in Belgium
BY
EMILE CAMMAERTS
ILLUSTRATED WITH CARTOONS BY LOUIS RAEMAEKERS
MCMXVII
CONTENTS.
I. The Prison Gates
II. The Lowered Flag
III. The Poisoned Wells
IV. The Sacking of Belgium
V. The Modern Slave
1. The Creeping Tide
2. "By the Waters of Babylon"
VI. The Olive Branch
Through the Iron Bars
I.
THE PRISON GATES.
The English-speaking public is generally well informed concerning the
part played in the war by the Belgian troops. The resistance of our
small field army at Liège, before Antwerp, and on the Yser has been
praised and is still being praised wherever the tale runs. This is easy
enough to understand. The fact that those 100,000 men should have been
able to hold so long in check the forces of the first military Empire in
Europe, and that a great number of them, helped by new contingents of
recruits and led by their young King, should still be fighting on their
native soil, must appeal strongly to the imagination.
If it be told how the new Belgian army, reorganised and re-equipped
after the terrible ordeal on the Yser, is at the present moment much
stronger than at the beginning of the war, how it has been able lately
to extend its front in Flanders, and how some of its units have rendered
valuable help to the cause of the Allies in East Africa and even in
Galicia, the story sounds like a fairy tale. There is, in the history of
this unequal struggle, the true ring of legendary heroism; it seems an
echo of the tale of David and Goliath, or of Jack the Giant Killer; it
is full of the triumph of the spirit over the flesh, of independence and
free will over fatalism and brute force, of Right over Might.
I feel confident that some day a poet will be able to sing this great
epic in verses which shall answer to the swinging rhythm of battle and
roll with the booming of a thousand guns. But, in the meantime, I should
like to say a few words about a much humbler, a much simpler, a much
more familiar subject. It awakes no classical remembrances of Leonidas
or Marathon. My heroes risk their lives, but they are not soldiers,
merely prosaic "bourgeois" and workmen. They have no weapon, they cannot
fight. They have only to remain cheery in adversity and patient in the
face of taunts. They cannot render blow for blow, they have no sword to
flourish against an insolent conqueror. They can only oppose a stout
heart, a loyal spirit, and an ironic smile to the persecutions to which
they are subjected. They can do nothing--they must do nothing--only hope
and wait. But there are as much heroism and beauty in their black
frock-coats and their soiled workmen's smocks as in the gayest and most
glittering uniforms.
It is the plain matter-of-fact story of Belgian life under German rule.
Many more people will be tempted to praise the glory of our soldiers.
But, if the incidents of conquered Belgium's life are not recorded in
good time, they might escape notice. People might forget that, besides
the 150,000 to 200,000 heroes who are now waging war for Belgium on the
Western front, there are 7,500,000 heroes who are suffering for Belgium
behind the German lines, in the close prison of guarded frontiers, cut
off from the whole world, separated alike from those who are fighting
for their deliverance and from those who have sought refuge abroad.
These are the people whom America, England, Spain, and many generous
people in other allied and neutral countries have tried to save from
material starvation. If I could only show to my readers how they are
saving themselves from despair, from spiritual starvation, I should be
well repaid for my trouble, for, among all the wonders of this war,
which has displayed mankind as at once so much worse and so much better
than we thought, there is perhaps nothing more surprising than the way
in which the Belgian people have kept their spirits up.
One can, to a certain extent, understand the bright courage and the grim
humour of the fighting soldier; he has the excitement of battle to
sustain him through danger and suffering. But that an unarmed
population, which, having witnessed the martyrdom of many peaceful
towns, is threatened with utter destruction, which, ruined by war
contributions and requisitions, is on the brink of starvation, which,
persecuted by spies and subjected constantly to the most severe
individual and collective punishments on the slightest pretext, is
obliged to refrain from any manifestation of patriotic sentiments--that
such a population, completely cut off from its Government and from most
of its political leaders, and, moreover, poisoned every day by news
concocted by the enemy, should remain unshakable in its courage and
loyalty and should still be able to laugh at the efforts made by its
masters to bring it into submission, is truly one of the most amazing
spectacles which we have witnessed since the war broke out. General von
Bissing has declared that the Belgians are an enigma to him. No wonder.
They are an enigma to themselves. I am not going to explain the miracle.
I will only attempt to show how inexplicable, how miraculous, it is.
* * * * *
The German occupation of Belgium may be roughly divided into two
periods: Before the fall of Antwerp, when the hope of prompt deliverance
was still vivid in every heart, and when the German policy, in spite of
its frightfulness, had not yet assumed its most ruthless and systematic
character; and, after the fall of the great fortress, when the yoke of
the conqueror weighed more heavily on the vanquished shoulders, and when
the Belgian population, grim and resolute, began to struggle to preserve
its honour and loyalty and to resist the ever increasing pressure of the
enemy to bring it into complete submission and to use it as a tool
against its own army and its own King.
I am only concerned here with the second period. The story of the German
atrocities committed in some parts of the country at the beginning of
the occupation is too well known to require any further comment. Every
honest man, in Allied and neutral countries, has made up his mind on the
subject. No unprejudiced person can hesitate between the evidence
brought forward by the Belgian Commission of Enquiry and the vague
denials, paltry excuses and insolent calumnies opposed to it by the
German Government and the Pro-German Press. Besides, in a way, the
atrocities committed during the last days of August, 1914, ought not to
be considered as the culminating point of Belgium's martyrdom. They
have, of course, appealed to the imagination of the masses, they have
filled the world with horror and indignation, but they did not extend
all over the country, as the present oppression does; they only affected
a few thousand men and women, instead of involving hundreds of
thousands. They were clean wounds wrought by iron and fire, sudden,
brutal blows struck at the heart of the country, wounds and blows from
which it is possible to recover quickly, from which reaction is
possible, which do not affect the soul and honour of a people. The
military executioners of 1914 were compassionate when compared to the
civilian administrators who succeeded them. The pen may be more cruel
than the sword. Considered in the light of the recent deportations, the
first days of frightfulness seem almost merciful.
Observers have found no words strong enough to praise the attitude of
the Belgian people when victory seemed close at hand, when news was
still allowed to reach them. What should be said now after the
twenty-seven months for which they have been completely isolated from
the rest of the world? The ruthless methods of the German army of
invasion which deliberately massacred 5,000 unarmed civilians and sacked
six or seven towns and many more villages has been vehemently condemned.
What is to be the verdict now that they have succeeded, after two years
of efforts, in sacking the whole country, ruining her industry and
commerce, throwing out of employment her best workmen and leading into
slavery tens of thousands of her staunchest patriots? The horrors of
Louvain and Dinant were compared, with some reason, to the excesses of
the Thirty Years War, but modern history offers no other instance of
forced labour and wholesale deportations. If, fifty years ago, the
conscience of the world revolted against black slavery, what should its
feelings be today when it is confronted with this new and most appalling
form of white slavery? We should in vain ransack the chronicles of
history to find, even in ancient times, crimes similar to this one. For
the Jews were at war with Babylon, the Gauls were at war with Rome.
Belgium did not wage war against Germany. She merely refused to betray
her honour.
* * * * *
Let us watch, then, the closing of the prison gates. Up to the beginning
of October, the Belgians, and specially the people of Brussels, had been
kept in a state of suspense by the three sorties of the Belgian army,
which left the shelter of the Antwerp forts to advance towards Vilvorde
and Louvain, a few miles from the capital. At the beginning of
September, the sound of guns came so close that the people rejoiced
openly, thinking that deliverance was at their gates. To sober their
spirit--or to exasperate their patience?--the Governor General ordered
that a few Belgian prisoners, some of them wounded, with their
quickfiring gun drawn by a dog, should be marched through the crowded
streets. The men were covered with dust, their heads wrapped in
blood-stained bandages, and they kept their eyes on the ground as if
ashamed. Some women sobbed on seeing them, others cursed their guards,
others plundered a flower shop and showered flowers upon them. At last
two stalwart workmen shouldered away the escort, and, helped by the
crowd, which paralysed the movements of the Germans, succeeded in
kidnapping the prisoners, and getting them away to the neighbouring
streets. They could never be discovered, and it was the last display of
the kind which the Governor gave to Brussels.
During the siege, people had learnt to recognize the voice of every fort
of Antwerp. They said to each other: "That is Lizele, Wavre Ste.
Catherine, Waelhem." One after the other the Belgian guns were silenced,
first Wavre, then Waelhem ... and the vibrating boom of the German
heavies was heard louder than ever. The listening Bruxellois grew paler,
straining every nerve to catch the voice of Antwerp. It was as if their
own life as a nation was slowly dying away, as if they were mourning
their own agony. But still the valiant spirit of the first days
prevailed. "They will be beaten for all that. What was Antwerp compared
with the Marne? All forts must fall under 'their' artillery. After all,
the nest is empty; the King and the army are safe."
Since those days a kind of reckless indifference has seized the
Belgians. If we must lose everything to gain everything, let us lose
it. The sooner the better. It is the spirit of a poor man burning his
furniture in order to shelter his children from cold, or of a Saint
suffering every physical privation in order to gain the Kingdom of
Heaven. It is an uncanny spirit composed of wild energy and bitter-sweet
irony. "First Liège, then Brussels, then Namur, now Antwerp. The King
has gone, the Government has gone. If all Belgium has to go, let it go.
It is the price we have to pay. The victory of our soul shall be all the
greater if our body is shattered and tortured."
Henceforth, the voice of Belgium reaches us only from time to time. Its
sound is muffled by the enemy's strangle-hold, which grows tighter and
tighter. Before the fall of Antwerp, the German administration of
General von der Goltz had merely a temporary character. We knew that
most of the high officials were stopping in Brussels on their way to
Paris. On the other hand, any skilful move of the Allies, any successful
sortie from Antwerp, might have jeopardized all the conqueror's plans
and necessitated an immediate retreat. The Yser-Ypres struggle barred
the way to Brussels as well as to Calais. The Germans knew now that they
were safe, at least for a good many months, and began systematically to
"organize the country." All communications with the uninterrupted part
of Belgium were interrupted. It became more and more difficult and
dangerous to cross the Dutch frontier without a special permit. The
economic and moral pressure increased steadily, and the conflict between
conquerors and patriots began, a conflict unrelieved by dramatic
interest or excitement from outside, which carried the country back to
the worst days of Austrian and Spanish domination.
II.
THE LOWERED FLAG.
The contrast which I have endeavoured to indicate, in the first chapter,
between the attitude of the German administration before the fall of
Antwerp and its behaviour afterwards is nowhere so well marked as in the
measures taken for the purpose of repressing all Belgian manifestations
of patriotism.
During the two first months of occupation, the Germans made at least a
show of respecting the loyal feelings of the population. In his first
proclamation, dated September 2nd, in which he announced his appointment
as General Governor of Belgium, Baron von der Goltz declared that "he
asked no one to renounce his patriotic feelings." And when, a few days
later, the Governor of Brussels, Baron von Luttwitz, issued a poster
"advising" the citizens to take their flags from their windows, he did
this in conciliatory words, giving the pretext that these manifestations
might provoke reprisals from the German troops passing through the town:
"The Military Governor does not intend in the least to hurt, by such a
measure, the feelings and self-respect of the inhabitants. His only aim
is to protect them against all harm." (September 16th.) Every Belgian
was still wearing the national colours, pictures of the King and Queen
were sold in the streets, and the Brabançonne was hummed, whistled, and
sung all over the country. The people had lost every right but one: they
could still show the enemy, in spite of the declarations of the German
Press, that they were not yet ready to accept his rule.
This apparent tolerance is easy to explain. After the massacres of
August, the German authorities were anxious not to exasperate public
opinion, and not to spoil by uselessly vexatious measures the effect
which had been produced. During the Marne and the three sorties of the
Belgian army, they had only a very small number of men at their disposal
to garrison the largest towns. The slightest progress of the Belgian
army might have endangered their line of communications. We know now
that the withdrawal of the seat of the government from Brussels to Liege
was at one moment seriously contemplated, and that the same troops were
made to pass again and again through the streets of the capital in order
to give the illusion that the garrison was stronger than it really was
(_Frankfurter Zeitung_, August 22nd, 1916). Besides, Germany had not yet
given up all hopes of coming to terms with King Albert, since a third
attempt was to be made at Antwerp to separate the Belgian Government
from the Allies. In these circumstances it seemed wiser to let the
Belgian folk indulge in their harmless manifestations of loyalty, so
long as they did not cause any disturbance and did not complicate the
task of the military.
Let us look now at the next phase. As soon as the Belgian army has
achieved its junction with the Allies on the Yser and all communications
are cut between the Government and the people, the Germans cease to
consider Belgium as an occupied territory, and seize upon every pretext
to treat her as a conquered country, which will, sooner or later, become
part of the Empire. They no longer take the trouble to explain or
justify their oppressive measures, or to reconcile them with their
former promises. They simply ignore them. First in Namur (November the
15th, 1914), then in Brussels (June the 30th, 1915), it becomes a crime
to wear the tricolour cockade. The Te Deum, which is celebrated every
year, on November 15th, in honour of King Albert's Saint's day, is
forbidden. From the month of March, 1915, it is practically a forbidden
thing to sing the Brabançonne, even in the schools. All patriotic
manifestations, on the occasion of the King's Birthday (April 8th) and
of the anniversary of Belgian Independence day (July 21st) are severely
prosecuted.
In some of the orders issued there is still a weak attempt at
"respecting," in a German way, "the people's patriotic feelings." The
Governor of Namur, for instance, discriminates with the acutest subtlety
between wearing the national colours in private and in public, and the
Brabançonne can for a time be sung, so long as it is not rendered "in a
provoking manner." In fact, the Belgians are free to manifest their
patriotism so long as they are neither seen nor heard. They are
generously allowed to line their cupboards with tricolour paper and to
hum their national tunes in the depth of their cellars. But, in most of
the orders made under Governor von Bissing's rule (his reign began on
December 3rd, 1914), this last pretence of consideration and respect
disappears entirely. "I warn the public," declares the Governor of
Brussels on July the 18th, 1914, "that any demonstration whatsoever is
forbidden on July 21st next."
More than that, the German Administration frequently goes out of its way
to hurt the people's feelings. The fact of helping a patriot to join the
Army is not merely punished as a crime against the Germans, it is
delicately called "a crime of treason," and when people are condemned
because they are suspected of belonging to the Belgian intelligence
service, the public posters announcing their condemnation speak of them
as supplying information "to the enemy."
The sham tolerance of the first days has given way to a restless
repression, and even, during the last year, to deliberate persecution.
Schools may be inspected at any time by the authorities and every
"anti-German manifestation" (that is to say, any pro-Belgian teaching)
is severely punished. Shops are raided so that every patriotic picture
post-card (especially the portraits of the Royal Family) may be seized,
and even the intimacy of the private home is not respected. To begin
with, the Belgians have been allowed to show their loyalty--with
discretion; next, every patriotic manifestation is excluded from public
life; and last, the Germans, through their spies, penetrate the homes of
every citizen, and endeavour to extirpate by a reign of terror these
same feelings which they so emphatically promised to respect.
* * * * *
People who are leading a quiet life and who enjoy the blessings of an
autonomous Government will perhaps not appreciate the importance which
the Belgians attach, at the present moment, to these patriotic
manifestations. They may imagine that, so long as national life is
assured and citizens are otherwise left alone by their conquerors,
public affirmation of loyalty to King and country is of secondary
importance.
God knows that the economic situation of occupied Belgium is bad enough,
and the endless and tragic lists of condemnations and deportations are
there to prove that her people are living under the most barbarous
regime of modern times. But, even if this was not the case, anybody with
the slightest knowledge of their national character would understand the
extraordinary value which the Belgians attached to their last privilege
and the deep indignation roused by this German betrayal.
Von Bissing shrugs his shoulders and calls them "big children." So they
are. And his son, with a scornful smile, declares in the _Suddeutsche
Monatschrift_ (April 15th, 1915) that it is in "the people's blood to
demonstrate and to wear cockades." So it is. The love of processions and
public pageants of all kinds is deeply rooted in Belgian traditions.
But what does it prove? Simply that the people have preserved enough
freshness and joy of life to care for these things, enough courage and
independence to feel most need of them when they are most afflicted.
This is how they think of it: "Our bands used to pass through the
streets, shaking our window-panes with the crashing of their trombones,
our flags used to wave in the breeze--in the happy days of peace. Should
we now remain, silent and withdrawn, in the selfish privacy of our
houses, now that the country needs us most, now that we want, more than
ever, to feel that we are one people and that we will remain independent
and united whatever happens in the future?" Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von
Bissing sneers at the Belgians because on any and every pretext they
display the American colours. If they do, it is because they are not
allowed to display their own, and because they feel somehow that the
best way to show that they have still a flag is to adopt the colours of
the great country which has so generously come to their help. It may
well be, as the Baron informs us, that most of the "small and big
children" who wear the Stars and Stripes do not know a word of English.
What does it mean again? Simply that heart may call to heart and that it
is not necessary to talk in his own language to understand a brother's
mind. It is true that only children--children small and big--know how to
do it.
If the Germans had had the least touch of generous feeling for the
unfortunate country upon which they thrust war in spite of the most
solemn treaties, they would not have obliged the Belgian citizens to
lower the flags which they had put up during the defence of Liège, they
would not have torn their tricolour cockades from their buttonholes,
they would not have silenced their national songs, they would not have
added these deep humiliations to the bitter cup of defeat. One wonders
even why they did it if it was not for the mere pleasure which the bully
is supposed to feel when he makes his strength felt by his victim. They
might have gone on gaily plundering the country, shooting patriots,
deporting young men, doing whatever seemed useful in their eyes. But the
petty tyranny of these measures passes understanding. Governor von
Bissing is certainly too clever to believe that the satisfaction of
making a few cowards uneasy by such regulations can at all outweigh the
danger inherent in the resentment and the deep hatred which the bullying
has aroused against Germany. You may take the children's bread, you may
take their freedom, but you might at least leave them a few toys to play
with, and you would be wise to do so.
* * * * *
Such narrow-minded tyranny always defeats its own objects. Burgomaster
Max's proud answer to General von Luttwitz's "advice" to remove the
flags became the password of the patriots. Every Bruxellois henceforth
"waited for the hour of reparation." A great number of women went to
prison rather than remove the emblems of Belgium which they wore.
Stories passed from lip to lip. Their accuracy I would not guarantee,
but they belong to the epic of the war and are true to the spirit of the
people. A young lady, who was jeered at by a German officer because she
was wearing King Albert's portrait, is said to have answered his
"Lackland" with, "I would rather have a King who has lost his country
than an Emperor who has lost his honour." Another lady, sitting in a
tram-car opposite a German officer, was ordered by him to remove her
tricolour rosette. She refused to do so, and, as he threatened her,
defied him to do it himself. The Boche seized the rosette and pulled ..
and pulled .. and pulled. The lady had concealed twenty yards of ribbon
in her corsage.
When the tricolour was forbidden altogether, it was replaced by the
ivyleaf, ivy being the emblem of faithfulness; later, the ivyleaf was
followed by a green ribbon, green being the colour of hope. The
Brabançonne being excluded from the street and from the school took
refuge in the Churches, where it is played and often sung by the
congregation at the end of the service. There are many ways of getting
round the law. The Belgians were forbidden to celebrate in any ordinary
way the anniversary of their independence. Thanks to a sort of tacit
arrangement they succeeded in marking the occasion in spite of all
regulations. On July 21st, 1915, the Bruxellois kept the shutters of
their houses and shops closed and went out in the streets dressed in
their best clothes, most of them in mourning. The next year, as the
closing of shops was this time foreseen by the administration, they
remained open. But a great number of tradespeople managed ingeniously to
display the national colours in their windows--by the juxtaposition, for
instance, of yellow lemons, red tomatoes and black grapes. Others
emptied their windows altogether.
These jokes may seem childish, at first sight, but when we think that
those who dared perform them paid for it with several months'
imprisonment or several thousand marks, and paid cheerily, we understand
that there is more in them than a schoolboy's pranks. It seems as if the
Belgian spirit would break if it ceased to be able to react. One of the
shop-managers who was most heavily fined on the occasion of our last
"Independence Day" declared that he had not lost his money: "It is
rather expensive, but it is worth it."
* * * * *
If patriotism has become a religion in Belgium, this religion has found
a priest whose authority is recognised by the last unbeliever. If every
church has become the "_Temple de la Patrie_," if the Brabançonne
resounds under the Gothic arches of every nave, Cardinal Mercier has
become the good shepherd who has taken charge of the flock during the
King's absence. The great Brotherhood, for which so many Christian souls
are yearning, in which there are no more classes, parties, and sects,
seems well nigh achieved beyond the electrified barbed wire of the
Belgian frontier. Are not all Belgians threatened with the same danger,
are they not close-knit by the same hope, the same love, the same
hatred?
When the bells rang from the towers of Brussels Cathedral on July 21st
last, when, in his red robes, Cardinal Mercier blessed the people
assembled to celebrate the day of Belgium's Independence, it seemed that
the soul of the martyred nation hovered in the Church. After the
national anthem, people lifted their eyes towards the great crucifix in
the choir, and could no longer distinguish, through their tears, the
image of the Crucified from that of their bleeding country.
III.
THE POISONED WELLS.
We must never forget, when we speak of the moral resistance of the
Belgian people, that they have been completely isolated from their
friends abroad for more than two years and that meanwhile they have been
exposed to all the systematic and skilful manoeuvres of German
propaganda. Not only are they without news from abroad, but all the news
they receive is calculated to spread discouragement and distrust.
How true lovers could resist a long separation and the most wicked
calumnies without losing faith in one another has been the theme of many
a story. From the story-writer's point of view, the true narrative of
the German occupation of Belgium is much more romantic than any romance,
much more wonderful than any poem. The mass is not supposed to show the
same constancy as the individual, and one does not expect from a whole
people the ideal loyalty of Desdemona and Imogen. Besides, we do not
want the reader to imagine that, before the war, the Belgians were
ideally in love with one another. Like the English, the Americans and
the French, we had our differences. It is one of the unavoidable
drawbacks of Democracy that politics should exaggerate the importance of
dissensions. Therefore it is all the more remarkable that the sudden
friendship which sprang up between classes, parties and races in
Belgium, on the eve of August 4th, should so long have defied the
untiring efforts of the enemy and should remain as unshakeable to-day as
it was at the beginning.
We do not wonder that the German intellectuals who have undertaken to
break down Belgian unity are at a loss to explain their failure.
Scientifically it defies every explanation. Here was a people
apparently deeply divided against itself, Socialists opposed Liberals,
Liberals opposed Catholics, Flemings opposed Walloons; theoretical
differences degenerated frequently into personal quarrels; political
antagonism was embittered by questions of religion and language. Surely
this was ideal ground in which to sow the seed of discord, when the
Government had been obliged to seek refuge in a foreign country and a
great number of prominent citizens had emigrated abroad. The German
propagandist, who had been able to work wonders in some neutral
countries, must have thought the task almost unworthy of his efforts.
Every one of his theoretical calculations was correct. He only forgot
one small detail which a closer study of history might have taught him.
He forgot that, in face of the common danger, all these differences
would lose their hold on the people's soul, that the former bitterness
of their quarrels was nothing compared with the sacred love of their
country which they shared.
* * * * *
The first action of the German administration after the triumphal entry
into Brussels was to try to isolate the occupied part of the country, in
order to monopolize the news. Rather than submit to a German censor, all
the Belgian papers--with the exception of two small provincial
journals--had ceased to appear. During a fortnight, Brussels remained
without authorized news. From that time, the authorities allowed the
sale of some German and Dutch dailies and of a few newspapers published
in Belgium under German control. The Government itself issued the
_Deutsche Soldatenpost_ and _Le Réveil_ (in French) and a great number
of posters, "_Communications officielles du Commandant de l'Armee
allemande_," which were supposed to contain the latest war-news.
To this imposing array, the patriots could only oppose a few pamphlets
issued by the editor Bryan Hill, soon prohibited, and copies of Belgian,
French and English papers, which were smuggled at great risk, and
consequently were very expensive. Still, before the fall of Antwerp, it
was practically impossible for the Germans to stop private letters and
newspapers passing from the unoccupied to the occupied part of the
country. Besides, they had more important business on hand. Here again,
it was only after the second month of occupation that the pressure
increased. During October and November, several people were condemned to
heavy fines and to periods of imprisonment for circulating written and
even verbal news. The Dutch frontier was closed, wherever no natural
obstacle intervened, by a continuous line of barbed wire and electrified
wire. Passports were only granted to the few people engaged in the work
of relief and to those who could prove that it was essential to the
interests of their business that they should leave the country for a
time. The postal service being reorganized under German control, any
other method of communication was severely prosecuted. At the end of
1914, several messengers lost their lives in attempting to cross the
Dutch frontier. Under such conditions it is easy to understand that, in
spite of the efforts made by the anonymous editors of two or three
prohibited papers, such as _La Libre Belgique_, the bulk of the
population was practically cut off from the rest of the world and was
compelled to read, if they read at all, the pro-German papers and the
German posters. The only wells left from which the people could drink
were poisoned.
* * * * *
The German Press Bureau in Brussels, openly recognised by the
administration and formerly the headquarters of Baron von Bissing's son,
set to work in three principal directions. It aimed at separating the
Belgians from the Allies, then at separating the people from King
Albert and his Government, and finally at reviving the old language
quarrel between Walloons and Flemings.
The campaign against the Allies, though still carried on whenever the
opportunity arises, was specially violent at the beginning, when the
Germans had not yet given up all hope of detaching King Albert from the
Alliance (August-September, 1914). It was perhaps the most dangerous
line of attack because it did not imply any breach of patriotism. On the
contrary it suggested that Belgium had been duped by the Allies, and
especially by England, who had never meant to come to her help and who
had used her as a catspaw, leaving her to bear all the brunt of the
German assault in an unequal and heroic struggle. It was accompanied by
a constant flow of war news exaggerating the German successes and
suggesting that, even if they ever had the intention of delivering
Belgium, the Allies would no longer be in a position to do so.
According to the first war-news poster issued in Brussels, a few days
after the enemy had entered the town, the French official papers had
declared that "The French armies, being thrown on the defensive, would
not be able to help Belgium in an offensive movement." I need not recall
how, his name having been used at Liège to bolster up this false report,
M. Max, the burgomaster of Brussels, found an opportunity of
contradicting it publicly and, at the same time, of discrediting all
censored news.
The effect was amazing. Henceforth the official posters were not only
regularly regarded as a tissue of lies, but definitely ridiculed. The
people either ignored them or paid them an exaggerated attention. In
some popular quarters, urchins climbed on ladders to read them aloud to
a jeering crowd. The influence of M. Max's attitude was such that,
eighteen months later, several people coming from the capital declared
that, as far as war news was concerned, Brussels was far more
optimistic than London or Paris, every check received by the Allied
armies being systematically ignored and every success exaggerated.
When one reads through the series of German "_Communications_" pasted on
the walls of the capital during the first year of the occupation, one
wonders how they did not succeed in discouraging the population. For, in
spite of some extraordinary blunders--such as the announcement that a
German squadron had captured fifteen English fishing boats (September
8th, 1914), that the Serbs had taken Semlin because they had nothing
more to eat in Serbia (September 13th, 1914), or that the British army
was so badly equipped that the soldiers lacked boot-laces and writing
paper (October 6th, 1914)--the author of these proclamations succeeded
so skilfully in mixing truth and untruth and in drawing the attention of
the public away from any reverse suffered by the Central Empires, that
the effect of the campaign might have been most demoralizing.
After this first reverse, the Germans only attacked the Allies in order
to throw on their shoulders the responsibility for the woes which they
themselves were inflicting on their victims. When some English
aeroplanes visited Brussels, on September 26th, 1915, a few people were
killed and many more wounded. The German press declared immediately that
this was due to the want of skill of the airmen, who dropped the bombs
indiscriminately over the town. We possess now material proof that the
people were killed, not by bombs dropped from the air, but by fragments
of shells fired from guns. This can only be explained in one way. The
German gunners must have timed their shells so that they should not
burst in the air, but only when falling on the ground. This method of
propaganda may cost a few lives, but it is certainly clever. It might
well be calculated to stir indignation in the hearts of the people
against the Allies and at the same time to serve as a warning to enemy
headquarters to the effect: "Whenever you send your aeroplanes over
Belgian towns, we are going to make the population pay for it."
The same kind of argument is used at the present moment with regard to
the wholesale deportations which are going on in Belgium. To justify his
slave-raids, Governor von Bissing denounces England's blockade. It is
the economic policy of England--not German requisitions--which has
ruined Belgium and caused unemployment: "If there are any objections to
be made about this state of affairs you must address them to England,
who, through her policy of isolation, has rendered the coercive measures
necessary." [1] But the argument is used more for the sake of discussion
than in the real hope of convincing the public. General von Bissing can
have very few illusions left as to the state of mind of the Belgian
population. He knows that every Belgian worker, would answer, with the
members of the Commission Syndicale: "All the Allies have agreed to let
some raw material necessary to our industry enter Belgium, under the
condition, naturally, that no requisitions should be made by the
occupying power, and that a neutral commission should control the
destination of the manufactured articles." [2] Or, more emphatically
still, with Cardinal Mercier: "England generously allows some foodstuffs
to enter Belgium under the control of neutral countries ... She would
certainly allow raw materials to enter the country under the same
control, if Germany would only pledge herself to leave them to us and
not to seize the manufactured products of our industry."
Such arguments are extraordinarily characteristic of the German mind, as
it has been developed by the war: "Let Belgium know that she is
suffering for England's sake. Let England know that, as long as she
enforces her blockade, her friends in Belgium will have to pay for it."
It is the same kind of double-edged declaration as that used on the
occasion of the Allied air-raid on Brussels. Literally speaking, it cuts
both ways. The excuse becomes a threat and the untruth savours of
blackmail. Healthy minds work by single or treble propositions. If we
did not remember that our aim is to analyse the beautiful and heroic
side of the occupation of Belgium, rather than to dwell on its most
sinister aspects, we should recognize, in this last manoeuvre, the
lowest example of human brutality and hypocrisy, the double mark of the
German hoof.
[Footnote 1: Answer of Governor von Bissing to Cardinal Mercier's
letter, Oct. 26th, 1916.]
[Footnote 2: Letter of the "_Commission Syndicale_" to Baron von
Bissing, Nov. 14th, 1916.]
* * * * *
In spite of the most authentic documents, of the most glaring material
proofs, it might be difficult to realise that the human spirit may fall
so low. It seems as if we were diminishing ourselves when we accuse our
enemies. We have lived so long in the faith that "such things are
impossible" that, now that they happen almost at our door, we should be
inclined to doubt our eyes rather than to doubt the innate goodness of
man. Never did I feel this more strongly than when I saw, for the first
time, a caricature of King Albert reproduced from a German newspaper.
Surely if one man, one leader, has come out of this severe trial
unstained, with his virtue untarnished, it is indeed Albert the First,
King of the Belgians. His simple and loyal attitude in face of the
German ultimatum, the indomitable courage which he showed during the
Belgian campaign, his dignity, his reserve, his almost exaggerated
modesty, ought to have won for him, besides the deep admiration of the
Allies and of the neutral world, the respect and esteem even of his
worst enemy. There is a man of few words and noble actions, fulfilling
his pledges to the last article, faithful to his word even in the
presence of death, a leader sharing the work of his soldiers, a King
living the life of a poor man. When in Paris, in London, triumphal
receptions were awaiting them, he and his noble and devoted Queen
remained at their post, on the last stretch of Belgian territory, in the
rough surroundings of army quarters.
The whole world has noted this. People who have no sympathy to spare for
the Allies' cause have been obliged to bow before this young hero, more
noble in his defeat than all the conquerors of Europe in their victory.
But the Germans have not felt it. Not only did they try to ridicule King
Albert in their comic papers. Even the son of Governor von Bissing did
not hesitate to fling in his face the generous epithet, "Lackland." [3]
As soon as the last attempt to conciliate the King had failed the German
press in Belgium began a most violent and abusive campaign against him.
The _Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger_ published a venomous article, in
which he was represented as personally responsible for "the plot of the
Allies against Germany and for the crimes of the franc-tireurs." He was
stigmatised as "the slave of England," and it was asserted that "If he
did not grasp the hand stretched out to him by the Kaiser on August 2nd
and the 9th it is only because he did not dare to do so" (October 10th,
1914). He was said to have "betrayed his army at Antwerp. Had he not
sworn not to leave the town alive?" And _Le Réveil_, another paper
circulated in Belgium by German propagandists, announced solemnly that,
once on the Yser, the King wanted to sign a separate peace with Germany,
but England had forbidden him to do so. The _Hamburger Nachrichten_, the
_Vossische Zeitung_ and the _Frankfurter Zeitung_ repeated without
scruple this tissue of gross calumnies. The _Deutsche Soldatenpost_,
edited specially for the German soldiers in Belgium, went even a step
further and violently reproached the Queen of the Belgians for not
having protested against the cruelties inflicted on German civilians in
Brussels and Antwerp, at the outbreak of the hostilities!
[Footnote 3: _Suddeutsche Monatshefte_, April 1915.]
* * * * *
Not being able to stir the people against the Allies or against their
own Government, the German Press Bureau attempted to revive the language
quarrel and to provoke internal dissensions. It is interesting to notice
that the new campaign, whose crowning episode was the opening of the
German University at Ghent, in October last, began two months after the
surrender of Brussels and did not develop until the spring of 1915, when
an important minority of Germans began to realise that it would be
impossible to retain Belgium, and when a greater number still only hoped
to keep Antwerp and Flanders, thanks to the "social and linguistic
affinities of Flemings and Germans."
That is how Germany, who had never troubled much before about the
Flemish movement and Flemish literature, suddenly discovered a great
affection for her Flemish brothers who had so long been exposed to "the
insults of the Walloons"; how she suddenly espoused their grievances and
put into effect, in spite of their strong protests, some reforms
inscribed on the programme; how she tried by every means at her disposal
to conciliate Flemish sympathies and to stir up antagonism and
jealousies by treating Flemings and Walloons differently, whether
prisoners in Germany or in occupied Belgium.
The German train of thought is clear enough: "If we are unable to hold
Belgium, any pro-German demonstrations in the Northern provinces may
suggest the idea that it is the wish of the Flemings to be bound to the
Empire and give a pretext for the annexation of Antwerp and Flanders. If
even that is impossible and if we are obliged to give back his Kingdom
to King Albert, we shall have sown so many germs of discontent in the
country that it will be impossible for the Government to restore Belgium
in her full unity and power. She will never become against us the strong
bulwark of the Allies."
All this Walloon-Flemish agitation started by Germany belongs to a vast
plan of mismanagement. The day Germany knew that she would not be able
to keep her conquest she deliberately set herself to ruin Belgium
economically and morally. She succeeded economically, for nobody could
prevent her from requisitioning whatever she wanted. She failed morally
because the people understood her purpose and because the Flemish
leaders proudly refused the German gifts. The reform of Ghent University
was made in spite of them. It was made with the help of a few Germans,
German-Dutch and Belgians without any reputation or following. The
professors have been bought and the students (they only number eighty)
have been mostly recruited among the Flemish prisoners in Germany and
among a few young men threatened with deportation. They are obliged to
wear a special cap and are under the ban of the whole population. No
true "Gantois" passes them in the street without whispering, "_Vive
l'Armée_." This is the pitiful medley of cranks, traitors and unwilling
students which General von Bissing is pleased to call a "University."
In his inaugural speech, the Governor exclaimed, "The God of War, with
his drawn sword, has held the new institution at the font. May the God
of Peace be gracious to her for long years to come." The Germans' lack
of humour surpasses even their ruthlessness. With one hand General von
Bissing was baptizing the baby--rather a difficult operation--with the
other he brandished his fiery sword over the heads of all the true
Flemings who refused to adopt it. Many of them paid for this patriotic
attitude by losing their liberty. With one hand Germany inflicted this
unwelcome gift on the Flemings, with the other she banished M.M.
Pirenne, Frédéricq and Verhaegen from the sacred precincts of Flemish
culture!
Most solemnly, on different occasions, all the prominent Flemish leaders
have protested against the German Administration's action. They have
declared that it was illegal and unjust. Governor von Bissing reminds
them that, according to De Raet's words, "Two heroic spirits dominate
the world: The Mind and the Sword." They may possess the first but he
holds the second.
IV.
THE SACKING OF BELGIUM.
There is one idea which dominates the Belgian tragedy: "The body may be
conquered, the soul remains free." These words were uttered for the
first time, I believe, by the Belgian Premier, Baron de Broqueville, in
the solemn sitting of the House, when the German violation of Belgian
neutrality was announced to the representatives of the people. The idea
is supposed to have been expressed by King Albert, in another form,
before the evacuation of Antwerp. It was used to great effect in one of
the most popular cartoons published by _Punch_, in which the Kaiser says
to the King, with a sneer, "You have lost everything," and the King
replies, "Not my soul." It is so intimately associated with the Belgian
cause that the image of the stricken country is scarcely ever evoked
without an allusion being made to it.
We have seen, in the course of the earlier chapters, how Belgium
succeeded in preserving her loyalty and patriotism in spite of the most
ruthless oppression and the most cunning calumnies. We must now look at
the darker side of the picture and see how she has not succeeded in
preserving either her prosperity, or even her supply of daily bread.