MR. PUNCH AS PROPAGANDIST.
I don't know what decided him to do it. I think he must have been a little fed up with our silly British way (rather attractive, all the same) of assuming that the whole world is bound to recognise the justice of our point of view without the use of propaganda to stimulate its intelligence.
Or else he had read somewhere that the Bolsheviks had been flooding the Hun trenches with Socialist literature and that the German Headquarters Staff had protested against this kind of thing as being contrary to etiquette, and he thought he couldn't go far wrong if he did something that was contrary to Bosch etiquette.
Anyhow he started off in his Bouverie biplane to distribute a million or so leaflets of his own composition over the whole expanse of the Fatherland. It has been my privilege to read a sample which he handed to me just before leaving earth. It runs as follows:—
"GERMANS—Your Kaiser has taken good care that his Press should keep you in ignorance of the feelings with which your nation is regarded by the civilized world. I am therefore about to oblige you with a few home-truths.
"You have probably heard a rumour that we and our Allies have no quarrel with the German people, but only with its rulers. Don't you believe a word of it. Possibly we still respected you when the War began, for we had not guessed how many of you had been looking forward for years to the coming of 'The Day.' It is what we have found out about you since you started fighting that has made us loathe and despise you.
"When, as a nation, you accepted without protest the filthy savagery of your armies in Belgium and other occupied lands; when even your women were vile in their cruelty to the helpless prisoners you had taken; when you rang your church bells and waved flags and took holidays for joy of the murder of innocent women and children, we were not deceived by apologists who explained that your only defect was that you were the slaves of a brutal militarism (though you were that, all right). We knew that you must have something of the beast in your hearts. How it got there was another matter; we only knew that it was there and that while it remained you were not fit for intercourse with decent men.
"Another thing that you may have heard (for even some of our own statesmen, reputed intelligent, have said it, and it has no doubt been eagerly seized upon by the officials who control your Press), is that your form of Government, the particular pattern of tyranny under which you elect to grovel, is no concern of ours. Well, don't you believe that either. This is no question of private taste, like the cut of your shoulder-pads or the shape of your women's waists, which are matters of purely local interest. Your type of Government is as much our concern; as the quality of your poison-gas or the composition of the bombs that you drop on our babies.
"I am reminded of the nonsense that used to be talked by responsible statesmen at the time when you were feverishly building a fleet to dispute our right to ensure the freedom of the seas. We were told that you were at perfect liberty to do so if you chose, and that it was not for us to interfere with your arrangements. Yet everybody knew all the time that there was nothing in the world that concerned us so closely. If France had been massing troops on your frontier you would at once have asked her to state her intentions, or even possibly have taken action without asking her. Well, the sea is our frontier.
"You are to understand, then (whatever anybody may say), that everything done in Germany that bears immediately upon our relations with your State is of prime concern to us. Our desire for peace is as strong as your need of it; but we cannot afford to make terms with a Government whose word, as we have proved, is not worth the paper they write it on—who would treat any peace as a mere armistice to give them breathing-space for preparing a fresh war. No, if you want peace you will have to displace your present rulers. You are so good at 'substitutes' that you ought to have no difficulty about that.
"And the sooner the better for you. For as this War drags on we are not getting to love you more. Even now it will take you at least a generation to purge your offence and get back into the community of civilized nations. But there is another thought that is more likely to affect your thick commercial hides, and it is this. Unless you take steps, and pretty soon, to put yourselves in a position in which we can treat with you, you will be boycotted in the markets of the world, and you will go bankrupt. It is for you, the German people, to decide whether you choose this fate. Meanwhile Time presses and the sands run low."
Such was the matter of the leaflet that Mr. Punch rained down from his Bouverie biplane (fortunately invulnerable) upon the cities of the Fatherland. Till now the German people, fed on windy tales of triumph in place of solid food, had borne their sufferings patiently as trials incident to all wars even when you are told that you are winning them. This was the first intimation they had received of the facts. For the first time they had a chance of seeing themselves as others saw them.
He carried no bombs, but as he flew over Potsdam he could not refrain from letting fall, by way of reprisal, a weighty souvenir upon the purlieus of the Imperial Palace. Dropped at a venture, there is reason to believe that it fell within measurable distance of the head-piece of the All-Highest. It was Mr. Punch's
