Read here

The issue

James Wycliffe Headlam · 1917 · Scanned text · Free in the US

39,145 words · about 2 h 44 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
About this edition

Scanned text — may contain errors · view original scans

Free in the US: this text is in the public domain in the United States; it may still be in copyright elsewhere.

Licence: PD · Library of Congress states the book is in the public domain and free to use and reuse (https://data.labs.loc.gov/digitized-books/README.html); published 1917, public domain asserted for the US only · Library of Congress, Selected Digitized Books (https://www.loc.gov/item/17004974); text via the Common Pile (CC BY 4.0 compilation, per-document rights preserved)

Text from Library of Congress, read from page scans by OCR and set out for reading on screen; no words of the book are rewritten or summarized. How RedLectern is built

About this book

Author
James Wycliffe Headlam
Language
English
Published
1917
Length
39,145 words · about 2 h 44 min
Sections
10 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (10)
  1. Front matter under 1 min
  2. Contents under 1 min
  3. Introduction about 41 min
  4. Chapter I Two Manifestoes^ about 22 min
  5. Chapter II The Party Leaders ^ about 11 min
  6. Chapter III The German Chancellor And Peace ^ about 5 min
  7. II about 10 min
  8. IV about 16 min
  9. Chapter IV about 19 min
  10. Chapter V Central Europe 1 I about 40 min

Continue:

Front matter

LIBRARY

CONGRESS

DODDSliaaiB

Contents

Introduction i

I. Two Manifestoes 41

II. The Party Leaders 63

Introduction

The articles contained in this volume, which were written during the summer of last year, contain an examination of some of the suggestions as to terms of peace which have from time to time appeared in Germany. I republish them, for they may be useful as helping to throw into a proper perspective the complaints that now come from Germany, that it is England, and England alone, which, by the immoderate nature of her demands, stands between Europe and the peace which all desire. It is well to probe the nature of the terms which many men in Germany would have proposed at a time when a decisive German victory still appeared probable. It is well that we should not forget these things, for there are still not only neutrals, but even Englishmen, who continue to talk as though the British Government had wantonly refused favourable offers of peace and reasonable terms of reconciliation which had been offered by the German Chancellor.

It would have been easy to increase the bulk of the book, by including in it selections from the press and from the pamphlets issued in such abundance by private individuals. I have deliberately refrained from doing so. Nothing is more pernicious than the modern habit of quoting freely in other countries the foolish and exaggerated utterances of obscure individuals and newspapers, or the noisy leaders of extreme factions, who are to be found in every country, and by transporting them across the frontier giving them an importance which no one at home would attribute to them. It is a habit to which even distinguished German historians have given their support, and we find the official spokesmen of the Government, and men such as Prince Biilow, quoting as evidence of English intentions the words of Englishmen which are treated at home with the neglect that they deserve. In this I do not propose to imitate them; I have endeavoured to confine myself to evidence as to what seems to be the considered opinion of the responsible Government, the leaders of parties, the corporate opinion of influential associations, or the writing of men who appear to carry real weight in Germany.

Some apology is necessary from anyone who at such a time says or does anything that may seem to tend to postpone the arrival of peace. No position is so contemptible as that of the man of letters who, from the security of his home, where he is himself free from danger and hardships, adds to the spirit of national animosity which has already reached so lamentable a pitch, or contributes to the prolongation of the war, when he knows that by so doing he is helping to send thousands of men from every country in Europe to misery and death. It would to me be far more agreeable to join those who demand that the slaughter and destruction should now cease, and who ask with indignation what sound reason can be given for its continuance. But, in public as in private affairs he is not always the best peacemaker who refuses to recognise the existence of any real cause of difference. On the contrary, a clear recognition and definition of the matters at issue may often prove the best means towards reconciliation. And so I have attempted to put into the clearest light, using the evidence afforded by the statements of the Germans themselves, what is the real issue of the war, and the reason why the only suggestions as to peace which have come to us from Germany, with any claim to authority, are unacceptable.

I call this book The Issue. There have been in fact three great issues of the war, but it is on one of them alone, that which was the first and remains the last, that I wish to concentrate attention. The three issues were what we may call the Atlantic, the Eastern, and the European. Of these, the first was in a way secondary; i. e., it did not arise from the origin of the war and the conflict with Russia, but was only brought into prominence by the entry of England into the conflict. We can say with certainty, that it had not been the intention of the German Government, and those who moved for war, to attempt to settle the issue with Great Britain before that with France and Russia had been decided. This we must remember; but there is also no doubt that in the German Nation itself this now holds the most prominent place. The overthrow of the British dominion at sea, the consequent dissolution of the British Empire, the transference of sea power from Great Britain to Germany, is that on which they have for many years set their heart, and which is now their avowed aim. It is an ambition which, as we may recognise, is natural enough, and I do not see that we have any ground for complaint if they chose to challenge us. Our Empire has been gained by war, and if it is attacked it must be maintained by war. The ambition, at least, was not necessarily an ignoble one; it sprang not merely from vulgar jealousy or from commercial competition ; there was in it perhaps something of the great spirit of romance and adventure.

The new Germany which has grown up during the last fifteen years has looked, as in the past many generations of Englishmen have looked, to the larger world beyond the seas. The forests of Africa called them and the Coral Islands of the Pacific, the romance of the East and the limitless expanses of the ocean summoned them to vistas and ambitions which had been closed to their forefathers, shut up within the narrow limits of their petty states and tiny cities. They wished to be recognised in these distant lands, not only as settlers, traders, and explorers, but as members of a great imperial race, as conquerors, rulers, and administrators. It was a great ambition natural to a nation looking upon the world full of the longing for great deeds, desirous to take their place in the secular succession of great empires, desirous that Germany and a German ruler should be one of the series whose names are irrevocably written upon the chronicle of the ages, wishful to emulate the deeds if not of Alexander and of Caesar, at least of Alani and of Attila. There is an immortality awarded to destruction as well as to creation, and there was one thing alone that seemed worth doing, the overthrow of the British Empire. I say that it is not an ambition which we need grudge them; it sprang from their full knowledge of the greatness of the task. They saw that the British Empire was the only institution of the present day which seemed to challenge, in the greatness of its achievements and the magnificence of its ideals, the great empires of the past. We hold the challenge cup of the world, and it was by challenging us alone that they could become one of the great world-empires.

Such a challenge could not be refused. Nothing would be more lamentable than that the countrymen of Drake and Hawke and Nelson, of Clive and Wolfe and Wellington, should shrink from it or fail in the courage and resolution to keep up by their own deeds what had been acquired by their fathers.

There were many among them who believed, and I suspect beHeved with regret, that no conflict would be necessary, that the British Empire would fall by the forces of decay which seemed to be eating away its very heart, as did the Empire of Spain; of this there was no doubt, and for thirty years there has been no doubt that the day would come that, if the British Empire did not fall to pieces of itself, the Germans would attempt to wrest from us the sovereignty of the seas.

This was their golden fleece. But the golden fleece was guarded by the dragon. They had no Medea to charm the dragon to sleep. They ploughed with their steeds and the armed men sprang up from the earth, but they had no magic to throw among them to make them turn their arms against one another.

In truth this branch of the war had been decided before the first shot was fired. It was decided fifteen years ago. A successful attack on England's maritime and naval position was only possible on the hypothesis, either that it was unexpected and unprepared for, and that the self-governing dominions would not support the mother country in the war, or that Germany had allies who could give her efficient help on sea as well as on land. What danger there was from the first contingency had been removed owing to the extraordinary folly of the Emperor and Prince Biilow. They talked, they boasted, they swaggered, and they bullied, but talk and boasting, swaggering and bullying are not the best preparations for victory. The issue was decided in the South African War, for in this it was shown that the enmity of Germany to this country was one which concerned not the British Isles alone, but the whole structure and coherence of the Empire. This gave a new purpose and conviction to the imperial naval strategy, and England was therefore not unprepared, for Great Britain became conscious that she was acting as the trustee, not for herself alone, but for all that was involved in the maintenance of the integrity of the Empire. The second danger was removed by the failure of German diplomacy, which brought it about that she entered on this war without allies (except Turkey) who could give her any effective assistance in the struggle with the British Empire.

The second issue is that which centres round Turkey. The instrument of it was German patronage of Mahomedanism. Based as it was on the perfidious intrigues carried on during the years of nominal peace, it is the greatest crime against European civilisation of which any state has yet been guilty, for it depended on the alliance between German and Turkish militarism, the avowed object of which was to set up again Turkish rule in Egypt, and to use the wild passions of Islam for the overthrow of the civilising influence of Europe.

In this part of the war the decision has long been delayed. The issue in it will depend on that in the European war.

There remains the third and the great issue, that with which the war began, and with which it will close: the question of the predominance of Germany in Europe. In truth it includes the other two, for to a Germany predominant in Europe the conquest of the East would be open, and against a Germany which wielded the resources, military and material, of the whole of Central Europe, England would eventually be unable to hold her own. Let us therefore consider for a moment what is at stake in this matter.

The origin of the war and its object are identical ; there has been no change in the views of Germany. What the issue was in August, 19 14, that it is now. If we look beyond the details of the discussions and the negotiations to the great issue, that is, as it always has been, simple enough, and there is, I think, no difference as to the facts between the two parties. The strongest accusation which is made against Germany by the Allies is in fact acknowledged and corroborated by German statesmen and German writers. The ultimate question is not whether Germany wished for war ; it has been contended by the Chancellor, and perhaps with truth, that he did all in his power to avoid war. It is a matter of faith among the German Nation that the Emperor was in 191 4, as always, pecuharly averse from war. Let us assume that these contentions are true. There still remains the undisputed fact that, though Germany may have wished to avoid war, the one condition on which she would preserve peace was that she should be allowed to dictate to the whole of Europe the conditions on which peace could be maintained. The real accusation against Germany is that she attempted to use the fear inspired by her great military power and her alliance with Austria- Hungary, to put herself in a position in which her preponderance over Europe would have been practically assured.

The general custom of Europe is that when a diplomatic question arises which affects Europe as a whole, and in particular when this is one in which there is a conflict of interests between two great powers, neither shall proceed to military action or take any irrevocable step without first consulting and informing the other powers, her friends or allies (for in Europe all states are in principle friends or allies), and shall certainly not proceed to military action until every effort has been made by negotiation and conference to find a friendly settlement. The whole diplomatic history of Europe since 181 5 is an illustration of this truth. If this rule were disregarded, it is scarcely too much to say that there is not a year in which a great war would not have broken out.

Now, in this case Germany and Austria deliberately, and on principle, violated this rule. They laid down the proposition that if Austria went to war with Serbia, it was a local matter in which the rest of Europe was not concerned. They knew, and it can be shown from their own statements that they knew, that this was a proposition which could not be willingly accepted by Russia, a proposition, that is, which could only be enforced either by the sword or by the threat of war. They knew that it raised in the acutest form fundamental questions of Russian interest. They knew that for more than a hundred years it had been understood that if either Russia or Austria took a step forward in the Balkans, they would at once meet the opposition of the other power, and they knew that just because of this, either state, whenever it proposed to take action, had always consulted the other beforehand. This had again and again been done by Russia. The whole history of the negotiations preceding the Crimean War and of those preceding the Russo- Turkish War of 1877, illustrates this. On both occasions Russia had, by a preliminary understanding with Austria, to clear the way before she went to war with Turkey. If at that time Russia had brought military pressure to bear, either on Rumania or on Turkey, Austria must at once have protected her interests by mobilisation or by war, unless she had been consulted beforehand by Russia.

INTRODUCTION n

Now in this case Germany and Austria deliberately, and on principle, violated this rule; knowing as they did that the Austrian action raised in the acutest form fundamental questions of Russian interest, they claimed for Austria the right to take what action they chose, and laid down the cardinal principle that no other power was to be consulted; that is, they eliminated Europe from a question in regard to which the whole of European diplomacy had been most concerned. It matters not in the least whether the Austrian demands were legitimate or not; what does matter is that if their action had been allowed to go forward unopposed, the principle would have been accepted that Germany and Austria were themselves the sole judges of their action on matters of general import, and they would have claimed and secured a privileged position, the result of which would have been that the rest of Europe would have had to remain impassive whenever German interests were involved.

It is this, then, which was the occasion of the war, and as it was the occasion, so the avowed object is that at the end Germany shall emerge with such increased strength that she can, with impunity, defy the united opinion of Europe.

This object will be attained, of course, if Germany is victorious, but it will also be attained if, as a few writers in England and some among neutral countries suggest, the Allies acquiesce in a draw.

As to a complete victory of Germany, the results are so obvious that it is scarcely worth the labour to explain them. Moreover, a complete victory such as they anticipated is now clearly out of the question. None the less, it may be worth while to give in a few words what the result of this would have been. It is desirable to do so because it is perhaps not easy for many to realise what would have been meant by it. We are so accustomed to the Europe which we know, to the Europe which consists of a number of independent states, differing, indeed, in power, but equal in dignity and each enjoying full and complete independence, that we are accustomed to think that this state of things, which has in fact existed for four hundred years, must continue to exist for all time. And yet the history of the past tells us that great and fundamental changes have occurred and may occur again in future.

Now, a full German victory would undoubtedly have meant that in some form or other all the peoples inhabiting the central portion of the continent of Europe, the peoples we know as the Belgians, the Dutch, the Danes, the Poles, and the Swiss, would have been brought into the German system. It would not have been in the least necessary that they should have been incorporated in the Empire. It is quite possible that they might have continued to exist as independent autonomous states ruled over by families allied to the German princely houses ; this is the way in which, as a matter of fact, great empires have been formed, whether by the Romans or by the Enghsh in India. The student of ancient history will remember for how long the republics of Greece and the dynasties of Asia continued to enjoy a nominal freedom, while they were in fact completely subject to the will of the Roman State, and we know how, at the present day, the Indian Princes are still recognised as sovereign rulers, though they are incapable of independent international action. Now a German victory would have meant that the central part of the continent of Europe, from the mouth of the Dniester to the English Channel, would have been brought into the same relation to Germany that the subject states were to Rome. There would have been no one who could have ventured to disobey the orders issued from Berlin.

An empire of this kind is, of course, not complete in a day ; there would have been opposition, and we can be quite sure that a high-spirited race, such as the Magyars, would have been the first to rebel against a power which they themselves had helped to establish; the final subjugation of the Bohemians and the South Slavs would not have been completed without some further trouble; there would have been disturbances, perhaps serious disturbances, which could not have been put down without bloodshed. But these would not have been so much wars as what the Romans called ''tumultus"; they would have been akin to the Indian Mutiny or the Irish Rebelhon of 1798, or the risings in Poland, and if there had been no foreign assistance to look to, however serious they were, the ultimate result would have been certain from the beginning. Nothing is rarer than a successful rebellion; revolutions seldom succeed unless they are helped by weakness in the governing authority, or by disaffection in the army. The history of the year 1848 in Austria and Germany shows how helpless, even in the most favourable circumstances, is a popular rising, and if this was true even in the old days, how much more so will it be in the future, against a Government which has the sole control of all the modern machinery of warfare.

Against a united Central Europe, the outlying states, France, Italy, Spain, Scandinavia, would be helpless, and a Europe so organised would be able so to strengthen and defend the frontiers that an attack even from Russia would be cause for little apprehension. In a Europe so organised wars would cease, and they would cease for the only reason which would ever stop them, the concentration of all military power in the hands of a single Government so powerful that her position is unassailable. Europe would have had the Pax Germanica.

The difficulty of visualising the results of such a growth of German power is that we are likely to assume that men will continue to be governed by the beliefs and principles in which we ourselves have grown up. Among these the greatest is the pride in the freedom of one's country. But let us not deceive ourselves : had the Allies been defeated, had a Central Europe of this kind been established, this principle would not have survived ; it would have lingered for one or two generations. Independence would have been the dream of romantic men of letters; it would have been like the traditional republicanism under the Roman Empire, or like that of independence among the Greek States after having been conquered by Macedonia; but as a real, active, strong, controlling political influence, it would have waned away and died, the results of the great war would be irremediable. King Albert and Joffre and the Serbian peasants would in the history of the world have taken their places side by side with the other heroes of lost causes, with Sartorius and Demosthenes and Hannibal and Vercingetorix and Cato and Llewellyn and Schamyl and Kruger. But the world would have gone on, and generations would have arisen to whom political freedom would have been but a memory and a dream. The Gauls and the Greeks and the Sicilians and the Jews were conquered by Rome, and the time came when their chains ceased to gall them and they ceased to regret the uncertain days of the past. They had order, comfort, security, they had no more war; they had civilisation and personal freedom and rei6 THE ISSUE

ligion, and they ceased to know that political freedom was no longer theirs.

And so it might be again, and so it would have been had Germany been successful in the war.

It is the attainment of this new Europe which is either expressly stated or implied in all the German suggestions for terms of peace analysed in this volume, whether given in the documents of the six associations, in the picture of Central Europe drawn for us by Naumann, or in the peace terms as stated by the Chancellor. For all have this in common, that they demand that Germany shall come out of the war so much stronger as to be able to maintain herself against the whole of Europe, and the Chancellor goes so far as to tell us in so many words that we must have a " new Europe, free from the trammels of the balance of power."

As against this programme an Englishman will be satisfied with the reasons for which he entered on the war and the objects with which he is continuing it. For these are not the selfish and exclusive domination of a single state or nation, however eminent in the arts of peace and war, but the free and equal progress of all together in a generous rivalry. For he knows that diversity is the condition of life, and rivalry and conflict the condition of progress. We want and we will have, neither for ourselves nor for others, this partition of the world into aggressive and military world-states, least of all will we have Europe, which is the home and still is the hope of civilisation and freedom, subjected to the deadening rule of a single power. We need feel no chagrin that we are fighting, not to create something new, but to maintain the old, for we know what the world owes to the secular rivalry and juxtaposition of these free European races, France and Spain and Holland and Italy and Flanders.

For what is the meaning of the old Europe? At bottom it is the mutual respect for each other's individuality, the consciousness of the limits set by reciprocal obligations, the recognition that, if there are to be wars, their methods will be determined by common agreement, and that the victor will, in the enforcement of his will, have to be bound by the general will of the political community to which he belongs. This old Europe was founded on a conception of justice and reciprocity, and it is for this reason that Germany repudiates it, for she understands neither. Justice and reciprocity — which are in fact identical, for they mean that there shall be a measure to the exactions demanded by the strong from the weak, that as a state measures so it shall be meted to it again — they are the union of the weak against the strong, which is the only security against the tyrant state.

And when Bernard Shaw and Bethmann-Hollweg and Bertrand Russell tell us that we must be done with the doctrine of the " Balance of i8 THE ISSUE

Power," I can only marvel at the shallowness and superficiality of a criticism which does not trouble to look below the diplomatic formula for the permanent truth. A strange trio. The German I can understand; he, at least, would use his sophism as a bait to win the suffrages of the unwary, while Germany, as they sat talking and arguing, established the dominion which would indeed remove for all time the anarchy that they deplore and would bring peace to Europe, but would do so by subjecting all to a single will.

So much for a German victory. But it will be said that no one now fears this. The German plans are already doomed to frustration and their hopes to disappointment. They have not succeeded in conquering Europe and they will not. Everywhere they are on the defensive, and slowly they are being driven back. Why, then, the conclusion is drawn, not stop the war at once? So far as the German Government is concerned, there can be no doubt that they would gladly welcome any terms of peace which would enable them to come before their people without a crushing and irremediable defeat. Is it necessary to go on ? Admirable people in neutral countries, in America, in Holland and Scandinavia, are forming societies and publishing reviews with the object of contriving to end a war which, in their eyes, has ceased to have any definite object. They have found even in England some few who welcome these suggestions. It is said that

Germany would be willing to evacuate Belgium and France, and if she has done this that is all that we have to demand. They talk of the " suicide of Europe," but they do not see that the end of Europe would come, not by the continuance of the war, but by a cessation before the ends had been completely attained.

The position is a plausible one, but let us look the facts clearly in the face. Supposing that peace were to be made now, — peace made before the war had been fought to a conclusion, with Germany still untouched and the German armies unconquered, — what would be the result? The German Nation, recognising that they had not attained the ends which were attributed to them, would persist in denying that they ever had had these before them at the beginning of the war. It would continue to be asserted in Germany for all time that the war was in truth a defensive warfare, forced upon Germany by a hostile coalition framed for the express purpose of destroying the Empire and annihilating their power. In this war they had been faced by a coalition as great or greater than the final coalition before which Napoleon fell. Confronted by Russia, France, and England, together with Italy, Belgium, Serbia, Montenegro, and Rumania, they would boast, and justly boast, that they had held their own; Germany would have been unconquered and thereby shown to have been unconquerable. The Germans are more moved than we are by historical analogies; long before the war began they referred, almost with pleasurable anticipation, to the prospect of a new Seven Years' War, in which the Germany of Bismarck would have to fight against the whole of Europe, as the Prussia of Frederick had had to do. They recalled also the fact that, though Frederick was again and again defeated, he was never conquered, and that the power of resistance which Prussia showed was the basis on which two generations later Prussian expansion was built up. So they anticipated it would be again. The great coalition would be formed, and it was formed; Germany would meet undaunted millions of enemies, and she has done so; against the bulwark of German breasts the rage of the enemy was helpless. Peace would be made and Germany would emerge from the conflict, whatever her losses might have been, infinitely greater and stronger than she had entered it. She would have withstood the trial by fire and by sword, and withstood it successfully.

Germany would have withstood, and withstood successfully, the greatest coalition ever formed. They would have known that when another war broke out, they would enter on it relatively stronger than they had been before, and their enemies weaker. For, let there be no mistake about it — if the present coalition does not achieve complete and absolute success, it will never again be established. Supposing it came about that the Germans evacuated Belgium and France, not because they had been driven out, but only as the result of negotiations, and perhaps in return for the restoration of some of the German colonies, does anyone believe that on a future similar occasion Belgium or France would be in a position to defy Germany? It would be impossible for them to do so, depending upon the support of England. It would be clearly written in history that, after England had put forward efforts, far greater than anyone had thought to be possible, she had still failed. Belgium would still, as before, be subject at any moment to be overrun by the German armies, and the experience she had once endured would inevitably deter her from incurring a similar risk again. Would Holland, with the example of Belgium before her, ever venture seriously to oppose German demands? Would Switzerland? Would Denmark?

The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.

Loading the full text…