hatred. It is our ideal to fight in a sporting spirit. It is not
that we are less in earnest, but it is that the sporting spirit
itself is a thing very largely evolved by us and is a natural
expression of our character. We fight as hard as we can, and we like
and admire those who fight hard against us so long as they keep
within the rules of the game. Let me take an obvious example. One
German has done us more harm than any other in this war. He is
Captain von Müller of the _Emden_, whose depredations represent
the cost of a battleship. Yet an honest sigh of relief went up from
us all when we learned that he had not perished with his ship, and
if he walked down Fleet Street to-day he would be cheered by the
crowd from end to end. Why? Because almost alone among Germans he
has played the game as it should be played. It is true that
everything that he did was illegal. He had no right to burn
uncondemned prizes, and a purist could claim that he was a pirate.
But we recognised the practical difficulties of his position; we
felt that under the circumstances he had acted like a gentleman, and
we freely forgave him any harm that he had done us. With this
example before you, my German reader, you cannot say that it is
national hatred when we denounce your murderers and brigands in
Belgium. If they, too, had acted as gentlemen, we should have felt
towards them as to von Müller.
If you look back in British history, you will find that this absence
of hatred has always been characteristic of us. When Soult came to
London after the Napoleonic wars, he was cheered through the City.
After the Boer War, Botha, de Wet, and Delarey had a magnificent
reception. We did not know that one of them was destined to prove a
despicable and perjured traitor. They had been good fighters, the
fight was done, we had shaken hands--and we cheered them. All
British prize-fights ended with the shaking of hands. Though the men
could no longer see each other, they were led up and their hands
were joined. When a combatant refuses to do this, it has always been
looked upon as unmanly, and we say that bad blood has been left
behind. So in war we have always wished to fight to a finish and
then be friends, whether we had won or lost.
Now, this is just what we should wish to do with Germany, and it is
what Germany is rapidly making impossible. She has, in our opinion,
fought a brave but a thoroughly foul fight. And now she uses every
means to excite a bitter hatred which shall survive the war. The
Briton is tolerant and easy-going in times of peace--too careless,
perhaps, of the opinion of other nations. But at present he is in a
most alert and receptive mood, noting and remembering very carefully
every word that comes to him as to the temper of the German people
and the prospects of the future. He is by no means disposed to pass
over all these announcements of permanent hatred. On the contrary,
he is evidently beginning, for the first time since Napoleon's era,
to show something approaching to hatred in return. He--and "he"
stands for every Briton across the seas as well as for the men of
the Islands--makes a practical note of it all, and it will not be
forgotten, but will certainly bear very definite fruits. The
national thoughts do not come forth in wild poems of hate, but they
none the less are gloomy and resentful, with the deep, steady
resentment of a nation which is slow to anger.
And now, my problematical German reader, I want you to realise what
this is going to mean to you after the war. Whether you win or
lose--and we have our own very certain opinion as to which it will
be--Germany will still remain as a great independent State. She may
be a little trimmed at the edges, and she may also find herself with
some awkward liabilities; but none the less she will be a great
kingdom or republic--as the Fates may will. She will turn her hand
to trade and try to build up her fortunes once more--for even if we
suppose her to be the victor, she still cannot live for ever on
plunder, and must turn herself to honest trade, while if she loses
her trade will be more precious to her than ever. But what will her
position be when that time has come?
It will be appalling. No other word can express it. No legislation
will be needed to keep German goods out of the whole British
Empire, which means more than a quarter of the globe. Anything with
that mark might as well have a visible cholera bacillus upon it for
the chance it will have of being handled after this war. That is
already certain, and it is the direct outcome of the madness which
has possessed Germany in her frantic outcry of hatred. What chance
they have of business with France, Russia, or Japan they know best
themselves; but the British Empire, with that wide trade toleration
which has long been her policy (and for which she has had so little
gratitude), would have speedily forgiven Germany and opened her
markets to her. Now it is not for many a long year that this can be
so--not on account of the war, but on account of the bitterness
which Germany has gone out of her way to import into the contest. It
is idle to say that in that case we should lose our exports to
Germany. Even if it were so, it would not in the least affect the
sentiments of the retail sellers and buyers in this country, whose
demands regulate the wholesale trade. But as a matter of fact, what
Germany buys from the British Empire is the coal, wool, etc., which
are the raw materials of her industry, with which she cannot
possibly dispense.
But the pity of it all! We might have had a straight, honest fight,
and at the end of it we might have conceded that the German people
had been innocently misled, by their military caste and their Press,
into the idea that their country was being attacked, and so were
themselves guiltless in the matter. They, on their side, might at
last have understood that Britain had been placed in such a position
by her guarantees to Belgium that it was absolutely impossible that
she could stand out of the war. With these mutual concessions, some
sort of friendship could possibly have been restored, for it is no
one's interest, and least of all ours, that the keystone should be
knocked right out of the European arch. But all this has been
rendered impossible by these hysterical screamers of hate, and by
those methods of murder on land, sea, and in air with which the war
has been conducted. Hate is a very catching emotion, and when it
translates itself into action it soon glows on either side of the
North Sea. With neither race, to use Carlyle's simile, does it blaze
like the quick-flaming stubble, but with both it will smoulder like
the slow red peat. Are there not even now strong, sane men in
Germany who can tell these madmen what they are sowing for the next
generation and the one that comes after it? It is not that we ask
them to abate the resistance of their country. It is understood that
this is a fight to the end. That is what we desire. But let them
stand up and fight without reviling; let them give punishment
without malice and receive it without wincing; let their press cease
from lying, and their prophets from preaching hatred--then, lose or
win, there may still be some chance for their future. But, alas! the
mischief is already, I fear, too deep. When the seeds are sown, it
is hard to check the harvest. Let the impartial critic consider von
Müller of the _Emden_, and then, having surveyed our Press and
that of Germany, let him say with whom lies the blame.
* * * * *
VIII
GREAT BRITAIN AND THE NEXT WAR[4]
[4] Published, _Fortnightly Review_, February 1913.
This essay is of some interest, as it was written two
years before the war, and was one of the first attempts
to make the public realise the importance of Bernhardi's
notorious book. The author follows it by an unpublished
essay called "Afterthoughts," in which he examines how
far his reading of the future has been justified by the
event.
I am a member of the Anglo-German Society for the improvement of the
relations between the two countries, and I have never seriously
believed in the German menace. Frequently I have found myself alone
in a company of educated Englishmen in my opinion that it was
non-existent--or at worst greatly exaggerated. This conclusion was
formed upon two grounds. The first was, that I knew it to be
impossible that we could attack Germany save in the face of
monstrous provocation. By the conditions of our government, even if
those in high places desired to do such a thing, it was utterly
impracticable, for a foreign war could not be successfully carried
on by Great Britain unless the overwhelming majority of the people
approved of it. Our foreign, like our home, politics are governed by
the vote of the proletariat. It would be impossible to wage an
aggressive war against any Power if the public were not convinced of
its justice and necessity. For this reason we could not attack
Germany. On the other hand, it seemed to be equally unthinkable that
Germany should attack us. One fails to see what she could possibly
hope to gain by such a proceeding. She had enemies already upon her
eastern and western frontiers, and it was surely unlikely that she
would go out of her way to pick a quarrel with the powerful British
Empire. If she made war and lost it, her commerce would be set back
and her rising colonial empire destroyed. If she won it, it was
difficult to see where she could hope for the spoils. We could not
give her greater facilities for trade than she has already. We could
not give her habitable white colonies, for she would find it
impossible to take possession of them in the face of the opposition
of the inhabitants. An indemnity she could never force from us. Some
coaling stations and possibly some tropical colonies, of which
latter she already possesses abundance, were the most that she could
hope for. Would such a prize as that be worth the risk attending
such a war? To me it seemed that there could be only one answer to
such a question.
It still seems to me that this reasoning is sound. I still think
that it would be an insane action for Germany deliberately to plan
an attack upon Great Britain. But unfortunately an attack delivered
from mistaken motives is as damaging as any other attack, and the
mischief is done before the insanity of it is realised. If I now
believe such an attack to be possible, and it may be imminent, it is
because I have been studying _Germany and the Next War_, by General
von Bernhardi.
A book written by such a man cannot be set aside as the mere ravings
of a Pan-Germanic Anglophobe. So far as appears, he is not a
Pan-German at all. There is no allusion to that Germania _irredente_
which is the dream of that party. He is a man of note, and the first
living authority in Germany upon some matters of military science.
Does he carry the same weight when he writes of international
politics and the actual use of those mighty forces which he has
helped to form? We will hope not. But when a man speaks with the
highest authority upon one subject, his voice cannot be entirely
disregarded upon a kindred one. Besides, he continually labours, and
with success, to make the reader understand that he is the direct
modern disciple of that main German line of thought which traces
from Frederick through Bismarck to the present day. He moves in
circles which actually control the actions of their country in a
manner to which we have no equivalent. For all these reasons, his
views cannot be lightly set aside, and should be most carefully
studied by Britons. We know that we have no wish for war, and desire
only to be left alone. Unfortunately, it takes two to make peace,
even as it takes two to make a quarrel. There is a very clear
statement here that the quarrel is imminent, and that we must think
of the means, military, naval, and financial, by which we may meet
it. Since von Bernhardi's book may not be accessible to every reader
of this article, I will begin by giving some idea of the situation
as it appears to him, and of the course of action which he
foreshadows and recommends.
He begins his argument by the uncompromising statement that war is a
good thing in itself. All advance is founded upon struggle. Each
nation has a right, and indeed a duty, to use violence where its
interests are concerned and there is a tolerable hope of success. As
to the obvious objection that such a doctrine bears no possible
relation to Christianity, he is not prepared to admit the validity
of the Christian ethics in international practice. In an ingenious
passage he even attempts to bring the sanction of Christianity to
support his bellicose views. He says:--
"Again, from the Christian standpoint, we arrive at the
same conclusion. Christian morality is based, indeed, on
the law of love. 'Love God above all things, and thy
neighbour as thyself.' This law can claim no significance
for the relations of one country to another, since its
application to politics would lead to a conflict of
duties. The love which a man showed to another country as
such would imply a want of love for his own countrymen.
Such a system of politics must inevitably lead men
astray. Christian morality is personal and social, and in
its nature cannot be political. Its object is to promote
morality of the individual, in order to strengthen him to
work unselfishly in the interests of the community. It
tells us to love our individual enemies, but does not
remove the conception of enmity."
Having thus established the general thesis that a nation should not
hesitate to declare war where a material advantage may be the
reward, he sets out very clearly what are some of the causes for war
which Germany can see before her. The following passages throw a
light upon them:--
"Strong, healthy, and flourishing nations increase in
numbers. From a given moment they require a continual
expansion of their frontiers, they require new territory
for the accommodation of their surplus population. Since
almost every part of the globe is inhabited, new
territory must, as a rule, be obtained at the cost of its
possessors--that is to say, by conquest, which thus
becomes a law of necessity."
Again:--
"Lastly, in all times the right of conquest by war has
been admitted. It may be that a growing people cannot win
colonies from uncivilised races, and yet the State wishes
to retain the surplus population which the mother country
can no longer feed. Then the only course left is to
acquire the necessary territory by war. Thus the instinct
of self-preservation leads inevitably to war, and the
conquest of foreign soil. It is not the possessor, but
the victor, who then has the right."
And he concludes:--
"Arbitration treaties must be peculiarly detrimental to
an aspiring people, which has not yet reached its
political and national zenith, and is bent on expanding
its power in order to play its part honourably in the
civilised world."
And adds:--
"It must be borne in mind that a peaceful decision by an
arbitration court can never replace in its effects and
consequences a warlike decision, even as regards the
State in whose favour it is pronounced."
To many of us it would seem a legitimate extension of the author's
argument if we said that it would have a virile and bracing effect
upon our characters if, when we had a grievance against our
neighbour, we refrained from taking it into the law courts, but
contented ourselves with breaking his head with a club. However, we
are concerned here not so much with the validity of the German
general's arguments as with their practical application so far as
they affect ourselves.
Brushing aside the peace advocates, the writer continues: "To such
views, the off-spring of a false humanity, the clear and definite
answer must be made that, under certain circumstances, it is not
only the right but the moral and political duty of the statesman to
bring about a war. The acts of the State cannot be judged by the
standard of individual morality." He quotes Treitschke: "The
Christian duty of sacrifice for something higher does not exist for
the State, for there is nothing higher than it in the world's
history--consequently it cannot sacrifice itself to something
higher." One would have hoped that a noble ideal and a moral purpose
were something higher, but it would be vain to claim that any
country, ourselves included, have ever yet lived fully up to the
doctrine. And yet some conscious striving, however imperfect, is
surely better than such a deliberate negation.
Having laid down these general propositions of the value of war, and
of the non-existence of international moral obligations, General von
Bernhardi then proceeds to consider very fully the general position
of Germany and the practical application of those doctrines. Within
the limits of this essay I can only give a general survey of the
situation as seen by him. War is necessary for Germany. It should be
waged as soon as is feasible, as certain factors in the situation
tell in favour of her enemies. The chief of these factors are the
reconstruction of the Russian fleet, which will be accomplished
within a few years, and the preparation of a French native colonial
force, which would be available for European hostilities. This also,
though already undertaken, will take some years to perfect.
Therefore, the immediate future is Germany's best opportunity.
In this war Germany places small confidence in Italy as an ally,
since her interests are largely divergent, but she assumes complete
solidarity with Austria. Austria and Germany have to reckon with
France and Russia. Russia is slow in her movements, and Germany,
with her rapid mobilisation, should be able to throw herself upon
France without fear of her rear. Should she win a brilliant victory
at the outset, Russia might refuse to compromise herself at all,
especially if the quarrel could be so arranged that it would seem as
if France had been the aggressor. Before the slow Slavonic mind had
quite understood the situation and set her unwieldy strength in
motion, her ally might be struck down, and she face to face with the
two Germanic Powers, which would be more than a match for her.
Of the German army, which is to be the instrument of this
world-drama, General von Bernhardi expresses the highest opinion:
"The spirit which animates the troops, the ardour of attack, the
heroism, the loyalty which prevail among them, justify the highest
expectations. I am certain that if they are soon to be summoned to
arms their exploits will astonish the world, provided only that they
are led with skill and determination." How their "ardour of attack"
has been tested it is difficult to see, but the world will probably
agree that the German army is a most formidable force. When he goes
on, however, to express the opinion that they would certainly
overcome the French, the two armies being approximately of the same
strength, it is not so easy to follow his argument. It is possible
that even so high an authority as General von Bernhardi has not
entirely appreciated how Germany has been the teacher of the world
in military matters and how thoroughly her pupils have responded to
that teaching. That attention to detail, perfection of arrangement
for mobilisation, and careful preparation which have won German
victories in the past may now be turned against her, and she may
find that others can equal her in her own virtues.
Poor France, once conquered, is to be very harshly treated. Here is
the passage which describes her fate:--
"In one way or another _we must square our account with
France_ if we wish for a free hand in our international
policy. This is the first and foremost condition of a
sound German policy, and since the hostility of France
once for all cannot be removed by peaceful overtures, the
matter must be settled by force of arms. France must be
so completely crushed that she can never again come
across our path."
It is not said how Germany could permanently extinguish France, and
it is difficult to think it out. An indemnity, however large, would
eventually be paid and France recover herself. Germany has found the
half-German border provinces which she annexed so indigestible that
she could hardly incorporate Champagne or any other purely French
district. Italy might absorb some of Savoy and the French Riviera.
If the country were artificially separated the various parts would
fly together again at the first opportunity. Altogether, the
permanent sterilisation of France would be no easy matter to
effect. It would probably be attempted by imposing the condition
that in the future no army, save for police duties, would be allowed
her. The history of Prussia itself, however, shows that even so
stringent a prohibition as this can be evaded by a conquered but
indomitable people.
Let us now turn to General von Bernhardi's views upon ourselves;
and, first of all, it is of interest to many of us to know what are
those historical episodes which have caused him and many of his
fellow-countrymen to take bitter exception to our national record.
From our point of view we have repeatedly helped Germany in the
past, and have asked for and received no other reward than the
consciousness of having co-operated in some common cause. So it was
in Marlborough's days. So in the days of Frederick. So also in those
of Napoleon. To all these ties, which had seemed to us to be of
importance, there is not a single allusion in this volume. On the
other hand, there are very bitter references to some other
historical events which must seem to us strangely inadequate as a
cause for international hatred.
We may, indeed, congratulate ourselves as a nation, if no stronger
indictment can be made against us than is contained in the book of
the German general. The first episode upon which he animadverts is
the ancient German grievance of the abandonment of Frederick the
Great by England in the year 1761. One would have thought that there
was some statute of limitations in such matters, but apparently
there is none in the German mind. Let us grant that the premature
cessation of a campaign is an injustice to one's associates, and let
us admit also that a British Government under its party system can
never be an absolutely stable ally. Having said so much, one may
point out that there were several mitigating circumstances in this
affair. We had fought for five years, granting considerable
subsidies to Frederick during that time, and dispatching British
armies into the heart of Germany. The strain was very great, in a
quarrel which did not vitally affect ourselves. The British nation
had taken the view, not wholly unreasonably, that the war was being
waged in the interests of Hanover, and upon a German rather than a
British quarrel. When we stood out France did the same, so that the
balance of power between the combatants was not greatly affected.
Also, it may be pointed out as a curious historical fact that this
treatment which he so much resented was exactly that which Frederick
had himself accorded to his allies some years before at the close of
the Silesian campaign. On that occasion he made an isolated peace
with Maria Theresa, and left his associates, France and Bavaria, to
meet the full force of the Austrian attack.
Finally the whole episode has to be judged by the words of a modern
writer: "Conditions may arise which are more powerful than the most
honourable intentions. The country's own interests--considered, of
course, in the highest ethical sense--must then turn the scale."
These sentences are not from the work of a British apologist, but
from this very book of von Bernhardi's which scolds England for her
supposed adherence to such principles. He also quotes, with
approval, Treitschke's words: "Frederick the Great was all his life
long charged with treachery because no treaty or alliance could
ever induce him to renounce the right of free self-determination."