of a single Pomeranian grenadier. For instance,
take the Militarist view that we must fight Potsdam
because if the Kaiser is victorious, it will be our
turn next! Well: are we not prepared to
fight always when our turn comes? Why should
not we also depend on our navy, on the extreme improbability
of Germany, however triumphant, making two such terrible
calls on her people in the same generation as a war
involves, on the sympathy of the defeated, and on
the support of American and European public opinion
when our turn comes, if there is nothing at stake now
but the difference between defeat and victory in an
otherwise indifferent military campaign? If the
welfare of the world does not suffer any more by an
English than by a German defeat who cares whether we
are defeated or not? As mere competitors in a
race of armaments and an Olympic game conducted with
ball cartridge, or as plaintiffs in a technical case
of international law (already decided against us in
1870, by the way, when Gladstone had to resort to
a new treaty made
ad hoc and lapsing at the
end of the war) we might as well be beaten as not,
for all the harm that will ensue to anyone but ourselves,
or even to ourselves apart from our national vanity.
It is as the special constables of European life that
we are important, and can send our men to the trenches
with the assurance that they are fighting in a worthy
cause. In short, the Junker case is not worth
twopence: the Democratic case, the Socialist case,
the International case is worth all it threatens to
cost.
The German Defence to Our Indictment.
What is the German reply to this case? Or rather,
how would the Germans reply to it if their official
Militarist and Kaiserist panjandrums had the wit to
find the effective reply? Undoubtedly they would
say that our Social-Democratic professions are all
very fine, but that our conversion to them is suspiciously
sudden and recent. They would remark that it is
a little difficult for a nation in deadly peril to
trust its existence to a foreign public opinion which
has not only never been expressed by the people who
really control England’s foreign policy, but
is flatly opposed to all their known views and prejudices.
They would ask why, instead of making an Entente
with France and Russia and refusing to give Germany
any assurance concerning its object except that we
would not pledge ourselves to remain neutral if the
Franco-Russian Entente fell on Germany, we
did not say straight out in 1912 (when they put the
question flatly to us), and again last July when Sazonoff
urged us so strongly to shew our hand, that if Germany
attacked France we should fight her, Russia or no
Russia (a far less irritating and provocative attitude),
although we knew full well that an attack on France
through Belgium would be part of the German program
if the Russian peril became acute. They would
point out that if our own Secretary for Foreign Affairs
openly disclaimed any knowledge of the terms of the