CHAPTER II
AFTER BISMARCK
With the dismissal of Bismarck in 1890, Germany entered upon a new phase. Then once again her people began to dream, and this time furiously. They had conquered in war. They had won great victories in peace. According to their own estimate they were the foremost thinkers of the world. They found themselves impelled by a limitless ambition and a superb self-confidence. But the vision which now presented itself to their eyes was disordered and tumultuous. Indeed it was less dream than nightmare; and in some degree, no doubt, it owed its origin, like other nightmares, to a sudden surfeit—to a glut of material prosperity.[[1]]
Why did Germany with her larger population still lag behind Britain in commerce and shipping? Surely the reason could only be that Britain, at every turn, sought to cripple the enterprise of her young rival. Why had Britain a great and thriving colonial empire, while Germany had only a few tracts of tropical jungle and light soil, not particularly prosperous or promising? The reason could only be that, out of jealousy, Britain had obstructed Teutonic acquisition. Why was Germany tending to become more and more isolated and unpopular in Europe? The reason could only be that the crafty and unscrupulous policy of Britain had intrigued, with some success, for her political ostracism.
It is useless to argue with a man in a nightmare. He brushes reason aside and cares not for facts. But to seekers after truth it was obvious, that so far from making any attack upon German commerce, Britain, by adhering to her system of free trade at home and in her dependencies, had conferred a boon immeasurable on this new and eager competitor. So far from hindering Germany's acquisition of colonies, Britain had been careless and indifferent in the matter; perhaps too much so for the security of some of her own possessions. It was Bismarck, much more than Britain, who had put obstacles in the way of German colonial expansion. With a sigh of relief (as we may imagine) this great statesman saw the partition of the vacant territories of the world completed, and his fellow-countrymen thereby estopped from wasting their substance, and dissipating their energies, in costly and embarrassing adventures. So far from holding aloof from Germany or attempting to isolate her among European nations, we had persisted in treating her with friendliness, long after she had ceased to be friendly. One of our leading statesmen had even gone the length of suggesting an alliance, and had been denounced immediately by the whole German press, although it was understood at the time that he had spoken with the august encouragement of the Kaiser and his Chancellor.[[2]] It was Germany herself, deprived of the guidance of Bismarck, who by blustering at her various neighbours, and threatening them in turn, had aroused their suspicions and achieved her own isolation.
The grievances against Britain which figured in the phantasmagoria of the German nightmare were obviously tinged with envy. There were other grievances against France, and these were tinged with annoyance. For France, although she had been beaten on to her knees, had nevertheless had the impudence to make a successful recovery. There were also grievances against Russia, and these were tinged with fear. Her vast adjacent territories and teeming population, her social and industrial progress, the reformation of her government, and the rapid recuperation of her military and naval power, constituted in German eyes the gravest menace of all.
Self-confidence and ambition were the original stuff—the warp and the weft—of which the German dream was made; but these admirable and healthy qualities rapidly underwent a morbid deterioration. Ambition degenerated into groundless suspicion, and self-confidence into arrogance. It was a considerable time, however, before Germany was realised to have become a public danger by reason of her mental affliction. Until her prophets and high priests began preaching from the housetops as a divine ordinance, that Germany was now so great, prosperous, and prolific as to need the lands of her neighbours for her expansion, her symptoms were not generally recognised. It was not really pressure of population, but only the oppression of a nightmare which had brought her to this restless and excited condition. In terms of psychology, the disease from which Germany has been suffering of late years is known as megalomania, in the slang of the street-corner as madness of the swollen head.
The dreams of a nation may be guided well or ill by statesmen, or they may be left altogether unguided. The dreams of Italy under Cavour, and those of Germany under Bismarck, were skilfully fostered and directed with great shrewdness to certain practical ends. But in considering the case of Germany under William the Second, our feeling is that although popular imaginings have been controlled from above with even greater solicitude than before, the persons who inspired and regulated them have been lacking in the sense of proportion. The governing power would seem to have been the victim of changing moods, conflicting policies, and disordered purposes.
TWO FUNDAMENTAL ASSUMPTIONS
When we piece together the various schemes for the aggrandisement of the Fatherland, which German writers have set forth with increasing boldness and perfect gravity during the past ten years, we are confronted with an immense mosaic—a conception of the most grandiose character. On examination each of these projects is found to be based upon two fundamental assumptions:—The first, that the present boundaries of Germany and her possessions overseas are too narrow to contain the legitimate aspirations of the German race:—The second that it is the immediate interest of Germany, as well as a duty which she owes to posterity, to remedy this deficiency, by taking from her neighbours by force what she requires for her own expansion. There is a third assumption, not however of a political so much as an ethical character, which is stated with equal frankness and conviction—that war on an extensive scale is necessary, from time to time, in order to preserve the vigour of the German people and their noble spirit.
One school of dreamers, with its gaze fixed upon the Atlantic trade-routes, insists upon the absurdity of resting content with a western sea-board of some two hundred miles. The estuaries of the Elbe and the Weser alone are exclusively German; that of the Ems is shared with the Dutch; while the far more valuable harbour-mouths of the Rhine and the Scheldt are in the possession of Holland and Belgium. Put into plain language what this means is, that both Holland and Belgium must be incorporated in the German Empire; if by treaty, so much the better for all parties concerned; but if diplomacy should fail to accomplish the desired absorption, then it must be brought about by war. Nor has it been overlooked, that in order to complete the rectification, and to secure the keys of the Baltic, it would be necessary to 'admit' Denmark also into the privileges of the Germanic Empire.