above all, the political force and independence of the working-classes.
It was not always Austria and Germany which imperilled the peace of the world. In the year 1902 I published a work on “The Social Revolution.” In this I said:
“The only guarantee for 'peace lies at present in the dread of the revolutionary proletariat. It remains to be seen how long this can hold out against the continual heaping up of causes of conflict. And there are a number of Powers which have as yet no independent revolutionary proletariat to fear, and many of them are completely dominated by a brutal and unscrupulous clique of the High Finance. These Powers, formerly insignificant or peace-loving in regard to international politics, are now coming out more and more as international disturbers of the peace. Chief among these are the United States, and after them England and Japan. Formerly, Russia used to figure as head of the list of peace-disturbers, but her heroic proletariat has for the moment brought her down from this position. But just as war can be enkindled by the arrogance of a régime that knows no restraint from within, and fears no revolutionary class at its back, so can it also come to pass through the despair of a régime which is falling, as was the case with Napoleon III. in 1870, and as it will perhaps be the case with Nicolas II. It is by these Powers and their opposing views, not by, let us say, the differences between Germany and France or Austria and Italy, that the peace of the world is to-day most deeply endangered. (I. p. 53.)
This was written under the impression made by the war of Japan against China (1894), of America against Spain (1898), and of England against the Boers (1899–1902). And the war between Russia and Japan was already in preparation. The new German policy had then, indeed, been introduced, but its danger had not become clear. Yet in the later editions of my book I struck out the passage which I have just quoted, for the consequences had then begun to ripen, and the more these, came into full light, the more the former peace-disturbers ceased to work as such, while the Central Powers stepped into their place.
If we regard imperialistic tendencies as immoral, and believe that in settling the question of guilt we are passing a moral judgment, then we can indeed affirm with justice that Monk and Rabbi, Central Powers and Entente, are all tarred with the same brush. But it is another matter when we are inquiring into the origin of the war as a question not of morality but of causality, and when we ask what particular policy has brought about this particular war. On these lines we shall arrive, not perhaps at a moral but certainly at a political judgment, on particular persons and institutions. But only, let me add, on them; not on the whole people which was ruled by them, and which, after shaking them off, must naturally develop quite different tendencies.
The “German Professor” made the German people hated in the days of its military supremacy and ridiculous in the days of its defeat. He represented it as a race of ideal heroes, far superior to the English, whom he treated with scorn as a race of dirty shopkeepers. In point of fact, however, the Germans are no more heroes than any other people; nor, on the other hand, are they more quarrelsome bullies than their enemies in the world-war.
One thing, at any rate, must be admitted: If the opponents of Germany have showed at times the same imperialistic tendencies, the same bent towards war and conquest, then they were not morally superior to Germany—a country so intellectual after all, in spite of the German Professor!
One thing they well understood, especially the English and the Americans—they knew very well how to calculate the results of their actions. In the age of Imperialism they only prosecuted a war-policy when that policy did not endanger their own country. They had too much business capacity to conjure up a war when war might mean their own ruin. They were solid capitalists, not reckless adventurers who set all on a single throw. We see, therefore, that it is false to assert that capitalism necessarily means the lust for war with all its perils. It only means that under certain definite conditions.
German capitalism alone grew up under conditions which bound it closely to the most powerful and selfconfident militarism in the world. Up to the outbreak of the world-war there was no militarism in the Anglo-Saxon world. France and Russia, indeed, had plenty of it; but neither of these felt confident of victory—the one remembered the crushing defeat of 1870–71, and the other that of 1904–5.
Its connection with the strongest and most arrogant militarism in the world made German capitalism neglect all sober calculation. That was the sole reason why it not only connived at but urged on with all its might a policy which completely isolated Germany, and at the same time gave the deepest provocation to her neighbours. It lost all sense of what was economically possible, and impelled its Don Quixote, militarism, into a fight against the windmills of the Entente, in which not only the pugnacious knight, but his confiding Sancho Panza too, were left shattered and bleeding on the field.
CHAPTER VII
MATERIALS RELATING TO THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR
The advocates of the German war-policy constantly lay stress on the point that the “Question of Guilt” ought not to be judged by the events that occurred immediately before the war, and that a “scientific” conception of the situation must reach farther back.
We have seen that by this argument nothing is gained for the German cause. This endeavour to divert investigation from the last weeks before the war, and direct it to earlier periods, merely implies that the events of those last weeks are even more incriminating than those which went before.
Then, however, the advocates of the late German Government, as a happy thought, hit upon a new scientific consideration. Where at first the scientific historian was told to look at things only in their wide connections, now he was told that all one-sided evidence was faulty. So long as all the secret archives of all nations were not laid open, and all the statesmen concerned were not heard as witnesses, it was impossible to form an opinion as to the origin of the war.
Yet those who allege considerations of this kind bear witness to their futility by their own practice, for immediately after the outbreak of the war they exerted themselves to prove that the Central Powers were attacked—nay, were taken by surprise by the Entente.
Up to a certain point they were undeniably right: the world, when confronted with a war, cannot wait till all imaginable material has been brought forward for evidence as to its origin. Every politician, when faced with a war, must take his stand according to the material to which he has access. He must strive to get it as comprehensive as possible—complete it will never be, no more for the politician of the present day than for the historian of a later time. The latter may have access to various secret archives that at present are closed; on the other hand, much evidence will be lost to him that could be gleaned from contemporaries and that was not definitely set down in writing by them.
Although we cannot know everything, for all knowledge comes piecemeal, still it would be folly for this reason to keep from mankind what we do know. Indeed, this folly may become one of those political mistakes that are worse than a crime, if the keeping back of the material should serve to screen a system dangerous to the nation and to mankind, and liable to hinder the exposure of its operations.
There is no lack of material as to the origin of the World War. At its very commencement we were inundated with official White, Red, Yellow, Blue and other coloured books, and the critical treatment of them was soon set on foot. Early in 1915 there appeared Grelling's “J'accuse,” which was followed by a continuation in three volumes called “Das Verbrechen” (“The Crime”). With great penetration he succeeded, in very essential points, in striking the right track.
Then
