Before the War | Page 2

and our
chauvinists, it was either too much or too little. For, on the one hand, its
foundation was the theory that, amid the circumstances of Europe in
which it had to be built up, human nature could not be safely relied on
unswervingly to resist warlike impulses. On the other hand, this peril
notwithstanding, it was the considered view of those responsible that
war neither ought to be regarded as being inevitable, nor was so in fact.
It was quite true that the development of military preparations had been
so great as to make Europe resemble an armed camp; but, if actual
conflict could be averted, the burden this state of things implied ought
finally to render its continuance no longer tolerable. What was really
required was that unbroken peace should be preserved, and the hand of
time left to operate.
In the course of history it has rarely been the case that any war that has
broken out was really inevitable, and there does not appear to be any
sufficient reason for thinking that the war of 1914 was an exception to
the general rule. It seems clear that, if Germany had resolved to do so,
she could quite safely have abstained from entering upon it and from
encouraging Austria in a mad adventure. The reason why the war came
appears to have been that at some period in the year 1913 the German
Government finally laid the reins on the necks of men whom up to then
it had held in restraint. The decision appears to have been allowed at
this point to pass from civilians to soldiers. I do not believe that even
then the German Government as a whole intended deliberately to
invoke the frightful consequences of actual war, even if it seemed
likely to be victorious. But I do believe that it elected to take the risk of
what it thought improbable, a general resistance by the Entente Powers
if Germany were to threaten to use her great strength. In thus departing
in 1913 from the appearance of self-restraint which in the main they
had displayed up to then, the Emperor and his Ministers misjudged the

situation. They did not foresee the crisis to which their policy was
conducting, and when that crisis arrived they lost their heads and
blundered in trying to deal with it. They did not perceive the whirlpool
toward which they were heading. They thought that they could safely
expose what was precarious to a strain, and secure the substance of a
real victory without having to overcome actual resistance. Had they put
an extreme ambition for their country aside, and been careful in their
language to others, they might have attained a considerable success
without a shot being fired. But they were over ambitious and in their
language they were far from careful. A few unlucky words made all the
difference in the concluding days of July, 1914:
"Ten lines, a statesman's life in each."
We here had done the best we could, according to our lights, to keep
Germany from misjudging us. It was not always easy to do this. The
genius of our people was not well adapted for the particular task. If the
only question to-day were whether we always rendered ourselves
intelligible to her, she might say with some show of reason that we did
not. She might have grumbled, as Bismarck used to do, over our
apparent indefiniteness. But that indefiniteness in policy was only
apparent. Its form was due to the habit of mind which was, what it
always has been and probably always will be, the habit of mind of the
people of these islands. It was the defect of her qualities that prevented
Germany from understanding what this habit of mind truly imported,
and we have never fully taken in at any period of our history how little
she has ever understood it. Let anyone who doubts this read the
German memoirs which have appeared since the war. But it remains
not the less true and obvious that the purpose of the British
Government which fashioned the policy in question was to leave no
stone unturned in the endeavor to find a way of keeping the peace
between Germany and the Entente Powers. Now success in that
endeavor was not a certainty, and it was necessary to insure against the
risk of failure. The second branch of British policy related to the
provision for defense rendered imperative by the element of uncertainty
which was unavoidable. The duty of the Government of this country
was to make sure that, if their endeavor to preserve peace failed, the

country should be prepared, in the best way of those that were
practicable, to face the situation that might emerge.
Impetuous persons ask why, if there was