Watching on the Rhine

by Violet R. Markham

Hence Germany’s reluctance to say she is sorry. So far she will not admit there is anything to be sorry for. Never was there a nation more exasperatingly devoid of the spirit of self-criticism. Everything German is perfect in the eyes of a German. In the crash which has overtaken the nation little realisation exists of the moral issues involved. Among the Socialist party alone would much difficult and unpalatable truth appear to be permeating. At the meeting of the Second International held in Geneva during August 1920, the responsibility of the Kaiser’s Government for the outbreak of the war was admitted in precise terms by the German Socialists. The wrong done to France in 1870 in the matter of Alsace-Lorraine, the wrong done to Belgium in 1914 and the just claims of reparation, were all acknowledged and incorporated into a formal resolution. Though the Bourgeoisie may clasp their hands tightly over eyes and ears, the Socialists at least have no illusions as to the crimes and follies of the Imperial Government. But, crushed as they are by the heavy burthens of the Peace, they are more concerned to dwell on the trials of the present than the failures of the past.

What we should remember, I think, is that the bulk of the German nation did its duty in the war just as we did ourselves. Alongside the organised atrocities and brutalities which disgraced the higher direction of the military machine, must be set the courage and self-sacrifice of large numbers of humble people. The average German fought for his Fatherland with a conviction just as great as that of the average Frenchman or Englishman. In view of the rigid censorship which ruled, it is clear that the rank and file knew little or nothing of many deeds which outraged the conscience of the civilised world. They served a bad cause with a fortitude from which it would be ungenerous to withhold praise. The future peace of the world lies in the hope that their powers of loyalty and service may be turned to other and better ends.

Meanwhile the existing veils of ignorance and misconception can only be raised by a frank and free contact of men and women of both nations who are not afraid to come together and face facts however unpalatable. These distorted values can only be redressed through a determined effort to seek truth for itself undeterred by false conceptions of national honour. A nation which claims to be great should be great enough to admit the wrong she has done. Germany must learn to see straight about herself before peace in the real sense can be restored between her and nations who have suffered grievously through her action. Peace is here and now the urgent need of the world, but peace cannot live if perpetually pelted by prejudices and ignorances. The Supreme Charity has not left us without guidance in this matter, and as on another famous occasion, let the man or woman in the happy position of having no fault come forward to cast the first stone.

CHAPTER XVI
WATCHMAN—WHAT OF THE NIGHT?

It is probable that at no moment in the history of the world has a spirit of disillusion been so widespread and so profound as at the present time. Not only apparently have the high ideals which sustained us during the war evaporated completely, but they have yielded place to a sullen exasperation and ill-will dangerous in its temper and purpose. Moral war-weariness has sapped mind and body to such an extent that no powers of resilience remain. Suspicion as between class and class and nation and nation corrodes the foundations of life. Surly ill-will and a wholly anti-helpful attitude permeates the grudging performance of essential social services. People and classes pursue their own ends with complete disregard as to their reactions on other sections of society. Self-interest reigns supreme. The joy as of comrades of the open road faring together in a spirit of common service and brotherhood appears to have vanished. In England unrest and discontent wholly refuse to yield to the opportunist devices of a Government to whom all principles are mere questions of expediency. But England, mercifully for herself, whatever her spiritual sickness, knows nothing of the stark levels of practical misery and starvation on to which millions of continental people have been driven. We have no standard with which to gauge misery and hunger on a scale so appalling as that which has overtaken the dwellers of Eastern Europe. At times one wonders how it is that England, so great, so generous, so magnanimous in her traditional policy, has apparently neither eyes to see nor ears to hear what is going on. The voice of Gladstone could once rouse the country to a white flame of indignation over the sufferings of an oppressed people. But with the tragedy of Europe before our eyes; with women and children perishing by the thousand; with a volume of discontent growing and surging among every nationality, England, always the world’s hope in matters of practical justice, seems incapable of rousing herself to action worthy of her own great tradition. Instead of some fine and generous appreciation of the world’s woes, she looks on dully and from afar.

America has for the moment withdrawn from the European chaos. Her reasons for doing so are intelligible, but the result has been a disaster for the rest of the world. It is not a question, as so many Americans think, of a desire to exploit the better financial position of the United States. It is because America with many faults and crudities has a driving power of idealism behind her—the same motive force which brought her into the war. Some American business men and supporters of the great financial interests have sought—as is the habit of their kind—to exploit the post-war situation to their own profit. As against this must be set qualities of a very different character among the mass of the people. America’s absence from the European council-chamber involves the loss of a great influence at once restraining and constructive. We cannot measure fully as yet the infinite damage caused by her withdrawal from the task of Reconstruction. We know, however, that no blow since the Peace has been so severe. America was particularly fortunate in some of the representatives sent to Europe during the war—men of the highest capacity and honour. Through her absence every undesirable force or principle has gathered weight. Conversely every force working for good has been weakened.

The rest of the world looks on in an attitude as helpless as that of the former combatants, as month by month the shattered fabric of European life sags yet wider. The post-war chaos appears so complete that men turn from it in despair. Moral disillusion and weariness have their counterparts in recklessness and wild extravagance. There is a sense of an approaching Twilight of the Gods; of a collapse of the foundations of society. Therefore let us eat, drink, and be merry, on the brink of the chasm though it be, before the darkness swallows us up.

How is it that a war fought for principles and ideals so clear and so noble as those which animated us at the outset of the struggle can have resulted in a condition of practical moral bankruptcy? Of that moral bankruptcy the Treaty of Versailles is the sign and witness. On the plane of practical politics it may be said that the world could have survived the war, but it is doubtful whether it can survive the Peace. Yet the Peace only registers the sickness which has invaded our souls. Indeed, from one aspect it may be asserted that the present situation, dark and threatening though it be, is not devoid of consolation of a lofty and austere character. The moral bankruptcy which has overtaken the world is in itself the most august testimony to the inexorable truth of moral principle. Because the light in the spirit of man has burned so low, we are able to estimate what darkness falls when the lamp is untrimmed. The very chaos we deplore is the result of outraged moral laws, neglect of which brings a sure Nemesis in its train. Just in so far as the world has forsaken abiding standards of justice, truth, and mercy, the world has been stricken down. We are perishing to-day owing to failures in principle, and health can only return when principle is no longer flouted but resumes its reign over men’s souls. The tricks and turns of an opportunist policy cannot stem the rising flood of restlessness and disgust. The world grows daily more sick of men who have not sufficient character to make their cleverness tolerable. Thus viewed, our present confusion is fraught with profound spiritual significance.

In this, despite grave present peril, lies the chance of salvation. History has never known so great and so terrible a testimony to the inexorable character of moral law, and the reality of Divine Truth which it is death to challenge. Docet umbra, and in the darkness which has fallen, we who stand in the shadow may learn anew of the vision which shines behind all earth-drawn clouds; and so, may be, lay firmer hold on those forgotten truths which, alike to men and nations, bring peace at the last. If even now the better side of human nature will rally to the task of rescue, the future may yet be saved. The terrible sufferings of those who have fallen by the way cannot be made good. But if the nations will rouse themselves to make a determined moral effort, any repetition of such sufferings may be checked.

The greatest and gravest charge which can be brought against Germany is not so much that she killed men’s bodies and laid waste their houses and lands, as that she has poisoned the soul of Europe. The evil spirit let loose by the Prussian theory of life has reacted throughout the world. It has darkened counsel and silenced the voice of charity and moderation. Not to be dragged down to the level of the person who has wronged you is the hardest of all moral tests. It was one which proved too hard for the conquerors in this war. The Peace was bound to have been very stern towards Germany and very exacting in its demands. Severity was inherent in the situation. Wrongs had been committed which called for judgment; balances had to be redressed. The more necessary was it, in view of these stern measures, to adhere strictly to principles of justice and honour in our treatment of Germany; to give neither history nor a defeated foe any justification for the charge that in the hour of victory we cast behind us principles for which we fought.