Practically all my quotations are taken from books and pamphlets. The sole exceptions are a few extracts from pre-war newspapers, cited in Nippold's "Der deutsche Chauvinismus." It would have been an endless and unprofitable task to garner up the extravagances of German newspapers since the outbreak of the war; not to mention that a German anthologist could probably make a pretty effective retort by going through the files of the British war press.
Is my anthology as it stands open to a telling tu quoque by means of a selection of gems from British books and pamphlets of the type of those from which I have made my gleanings? Is it a case of the mote and the beam? I think we may be pretty confident that it is not. I doubt whether the literature of the world can show a parallel to the amazing outburst of tribal arrogance, unrestrained and unashamed, of which these pages contain but a few scattered specimens. In the extracts from literature "Before the War" (which have always been kept apart from those which date from "After July, 1914"), the reader may see this habit of mind growing and gathering strength: the declaration of war opens the floodgates, and the torrent rushes forth, grandiose, overwhelming, and, I believe, unique. I know of only one English book in which the German taste and temper is emulated. It is certainly a deplorable production; but it is the work of a wholly unknown man, whereas many of the most incredible utterances in the following pages proceed from men of world-wide reputation. Indeed, few contemporary German names of much distinction are absent from my list. Wilamowitz-Möllendorf, Harnack, Wundt, Oncken, Eucken, Haeckel, Naumann, Rohrbach, Sombart, Liszt, all join with a will in the chorus of arrogance, ambition, and hate. Many quotations come from a series of pamphlets called Deutsche Reden in schwerer Zeit, to which all the most eminent professors of Berlin University have contributed, with some from other universities. I have also, no doubt, culled passages from a good many nobodies and busybodies; but when the nobodies and the somebodies are found to echo and re-echo each other, the inference is that the general tone of the public mind is very fairly represented. It will be noted that many of the wildest shrieks of self-glorification and ferocity proceed from clerics and theologians.
The world as a whole has been curiously blind to the inordinate self-valuation characteristic of the German spirit. So long ago as the beginning of last century, we find Fichte assuring his countrymen that: "There are no two ways about it: if you founder, the whole of humanity founders with you, without hope of any possible restoration." Even Heine, in the preface to "Deutschland" (1844) could write half-jestingly that "if only the Germans would out-soar the French in deeds, as they already had in thought," and if they would carry out in their spiritual and political life some rather vaguely indicated reforms, "not only Alsace and Lorraine, but all France, all Europe, the whole world, would become German." "I often dream," he adds, "of this mission, this universal dominance of Germany." Of course we are not to write Heine down a Pan-German of the modern, realistic type. There is more than a dash of irony in this passage—he obviously implies that there is very little chance of Germany fulfilling the conditions that he lays down as indispensable to her world-domination. Nevertheless, there is a sinister significance in the fact that a spirit like his should be found dallying for a moment with dreams of world-supremacy. It was, of course, the war of 1870, with its resounding triumphs, that brought these visions, so to speak, within the range of practical politics. For fifteen or twenty years, Germany was, as Bismarck said, "sated"; but with the coming of the youthful, pushful, self-assertive Kaiser, her aggressive instincts re-awakened and she fell to brooding over the idea that her incomparable physical and spiritual energies were cabin'd, cribb'd, confined. The rapid growth of her population reinforced this idea, and the increase of her wealth, as was natural, only made her greedy for more. The result was that she gave her soul over in fatal earnest to an ambitious and grasping tribalism to which she was, from of old, only too prone. The Pan-Germans were the Uhlans, the stormy petrels, of the movement; but the whole mind of the nation was in reality carried away by it, save for a very small section which was conscious of its dangers and feebly protested. The egoism of which she was constantly accusing other nations, ran riot in her own breast, was elevated into a political virtue, and expressed itself on the spiritual side in a towering racial vanity. The word "deutsch," always a word of magical properties, became the synonym of an unapproachable superiority in every walk of life[2]—a superiority that sanctified aggression and made domination a duty. In many minds, no doubt, these sentiments wore a decent mask; but the moment war broke out, the mask dropped off, with the amazing results very imperfectly mirrored in the following pages.
But self-worship and the craving for aggrandizement are in reality very uninspiring emotions. The thing that has most deeply impressed me in my searching of the German war-scriptures is the extraordinary aridity of spirit that pervades them. A literature more unidea'd (to use Johnson's word), more devoid of original thought, or grace, or charm, or atmosphere, it would be hard to conceive. There are, of course, some inequalities. One or two writers seem (to the foreign reader) to have a certain dignity of style which is lacking in the common herd. But in the very best there is little that gives one even literary pleasure, and nothing that shows any depth of humanity, any generous feeling, any openness of outlook. Even a happy phrase is so rare that, when it does occur, one treasures it. I find, for instance, in a little book by Friedrich Meinecke, a distinction between "politics of ideas and politics of interests" that is happily put and worth remembering. Again, Professor v. Harnack re-states the principle that "he's the best cosmopolite who loves his native country best" in a rather ingenious way: "There is no such thing as fruit," he says, "there are only apples, pears, etc. If we want to be good fruit, we must be a good apple or a good pear." These are small scintillations, but the toiler through German pamphlet literature is truly grateful for them.
For the rest, when you have read three or four of these pamphlets, you have read all. The writers seem to be working a sort of Imperial German treadmill, stepping dutifully from plank to plank of patriotic dogma in a pre-arranged rotation. The topics are few and ever-recurrent—"dieser uns aufgezwungene Krieg" (this war which has been forced upon us), the glorious uprising of Germany at its outbreak, the miracle of mobilization, the Russian knout, French frivolity, the base betrayal of Germany by envious, hypocritical England, the immeasurable superiority of German Kultur and Technik, the saintly virtues of the German soldier, and so on, through the appointed litany. There is even a set of obligatory quotations which very few have the strength of mind to resist. By far the most popular is Geibel's couplet:
Und es mag am deutschen Wesen
Einmal noch die Welt genesen.
(And the world may once more be healed by the German nature, or character.) It came into vogue before the war. The Kaiser struck the keynote of the whole chorus of self-exaltation when he said (August 31, 1907): "The German people will be the granite block on which the good God may build and complete His work of Kultur in the world. Then will be fulfilled the word of the poet who said that the world will one day be healed by the German character." In the extracts collected in Nippold's "Der deutsche Chauvinismus" (a pre-war publication) the Geibel couplet appears at least four times—probably oftener. After the outbreak of the war, it is easier to reckon the utterances in which it does not occur than those in which it does. Next in popularity to the "Wesen—genesen" catchword comes the Kaiser's brilliant saying, "I no longer know of any parties—I know only German brothers." He is no good German who does not quote this with reverent admiration. Then come four or five others which are about equally in request: Bismarck's "We Germans fear God, and nothing else in the world"; "the old furor Teutonicus"; "oderint dum metuant"; Arndt's
Der Gott der Eisen wachsen liess,
[14] Der wollte keine Knechte—
(The God who made the iron grow meant none to be a bondman); and, finally,
Und wenn die Welt voll Teufel wär',
Es soll uns doch gelingen—