We cannot discover any method in the raids. In some places, all the able-bodied men from 17 to 50 are taken away; in others the priests, the town-clerks, the members of the "Comité de Secours," and the teachers are left at home; in others still a certain selection is made. But everywhere some men who were actually working at the time or even men who had never been out of work since the beginning of the German occupation have been obliged to go with the others. The proportions vary. In the small town of Gembloux, of a total of 750 inhabitants deported, there were only two unemployed. At Kersbeek-Miscom out of 94 deportees only two had been thrown out of work. At Rillaer, the Germans have taken 25 boys under 18 years of age.[[6]] In the district of Mons, from the numbers taken down in fourteen communes, we gather that the proportion of the unemployed varies between 10 and 15 per cent. of the total number of deportees.[[7]] Among the 400 men taken from Arlon (Luxembourg) were 43 members of the "Comité de Secours" who were working in connection with the Commission for Relief, so that not only the people supporting their families are being deported, but even those who employed themselves in alleviating the sufferings of the whole population. This practice has been repeated in several other towns, for instance, in Gembloux and Libramont.
Whether the people are ordered to present themselves at the town-hall or seized in their own homes, whether they are taken forthwith or allowed a few hours to prepare themselves, whether they are forced to sign an agreement or not, the same fact is evident: the criterion of employment is never considered as a sufficient cause for exemption.
In certain districts where, in spite of the requisitions, no unemployment existed, the authorities have manufactured it. Some of the new coal mines of the Limbourg province have been closed on the eve of the raids. The case of the Luxembourg province is still more typical. "We have not to enquire here," declare the senators and deputies of this province, "if unemployment has been caused in other regions by the disorganisation of transports, the seizure of raw stuffs and machines, the constant requisitions, and other measures which were bound to penalize the national industry. One fact remains incontestable; it is that, so far as the Luxembourg province is concerned, unemployment has been non-existent. During the worst periods, we have only had a small number of unemployed, and thanks to the initiative taken by the 'Comité de Secours' all, without any exception, have been at work without interruption." After enumerating a great number of works of public utility which had been approved by the German authorities, construction of light railways, drainage of extensive moors, creation of new plantations, water supplies, etc., ... the report goes on: "And to-day most of these works, which had been approved and subsidized by the province and by the State, have been suddenly condemned and interrupted.... Such official obstacles to the legitimate and useful activity of our workmen renders still more painful for them, if possible, the measures taken against them by those who reproach them for their idleness and who prosecute them to-day under the pretext of an inaction which they have deliberately created."
In the face of such testimony all the German argument crumbles to pieces. As Monseigneur Mercier puts it decisively: "It is not true that our workmen have caused any disturbance or even threatened anywhere to do so. Five million Belgians, hundreds of Americans, never cease to admire the perfect dignity and patience of our working classes. It is not true that the workmen, deprived of their work, become a charge on the occupying power or on public charity under its control. The 'Comité National,' in whose activity the Germans take no part, is the only organisation concerned in the matter." But even supposing, for the sake of argument, that the 43rd article of the Hague Convention should justify some form of coercion in the matter, the new measures should only be applied to some works of public utility in Belgium. Far from encouraging such works, the Germans have stopped them, seized employed and unemployed, and sent them either to Germany or to some war-work on the Western front. To put it simply, they wish to avoid public disturbance where there is no disturbance, to save money which is not their money, to deport unemployed who are not unemployed, to oblige them to work against their country instead of for their country, and in Germany instead of in Belgium. They are doing everything but what they want to do, they go anywhere but where they are going, and they say anything but what they are thinking.
[!-- Note Anchor 6 --][Footnote 6: Letter of Cardinal Mercier to Governor von Bissing, Nov. 29th, 1916.]
[!-- Note Anchor 7 --][Footnote 7: Reply of the Deputies of Mons to Governor von Bissing, Nov. 27th, 1916.]
The other day I heard two people—two wizened city clerks—discussing the war in the train. "When and how will the Germans be beaten?" asked the first. The other shrugged his shoulders and declared solemnly, while pulling at his pipe: "The Germans? They have been beaten a long time ago! They were beaten when they set foot for the first time in Belgium."
The remark is not new, and I daresay it was a reminiscence of some sentence picked up in a newspaper or at a popular meeting. But whoever uttered it for the first time was right. The case of Belgium has uplifted the whole moral atmosphere of the struggle. Since the first guns boomed around Liège and the first civilians were shot at Visé, a war which might have been represented, to a certain extent, as a conflict of interests, has become a conflict of principles. In a way, the Germans were beaten because, from that moment, they had to struggle against unseen and inflexible forces. Whatever you choose to call them—democratic instinct, Christian aspiration, or the conscience of the civilised world—they will do their work relentlessly, every day of the year, every hour of the day. It is their doing that, in spite of the immense financial influence and the most active propaganda, Germany has become unpopular all over the world. Other facts, like the Lusitania, the trial of Miss Cavell, the work accomplished by Zeppelins, have contributed to provoke this feeling. But whether we consider the origin or the last exploits of German policy, whether we think of two years ago or of to-day, the image of Belgium, of her invasion, of her martyrdom, of her oppression, of her deportations, dominates the spiritual aspect of the whole war.
When they crossed the Belgian frontier, the Germans walked straight into a bog, and since then they have been sucked deeper and deeper into the mud of their own misdeeds and calumnies. They were ankle-deep at Liège, waist-deep at Louvain, the bog rises even to their lips to-day. In the desperate efforts which they make to free themselves they inflict fresh and worse tortures on their victims. It is as if victory could only be reached through the country's willing sacrifice. But every cry which the Germans provoke in the Belgian prison is heard throughout the world, every tear shed there fills their bitter cup, every drop of blood they shed falls back on their own heads. The world looks on, and its burning pity, its ardent sympathy, brings warmth and comfort to the Belgian slave. There is still some light shining through the narrow window of the cell. And there is not a man worthy of the name who does not feel more resolute and more confident in final victory when he meets the haggard look of the martyred country and watches her pale, patient, and still smiling face pressed against the iron bars.