The European settlement at the end of the war will be effected, let us hope, not by a regimental mess of fire-eaters sitting around an up-ended drum in a vanquished Berlin or Vienna, but by some sort of Congress in which all the Powers (including, very importantly, the United States of America) will be represented.  Now I foresee a certain danger of our being taken by surprise at that Congress, and making ourselves unnecessarily difficult and unreasonable, by presenting ourselves to it in the character of Injured Innocence.  We shall not be accepted in that character.  Such a Congress will most certainly regard us as being, next to the Prussians (if it makes even that exception), the most quarrelsome people in the universe.  I am quite conscious of the surprise and scandal this anticipation may cause among my more highminded (hochnaesig, the Germans call it) readers.  Let me therefore break it gently by expatiating for a while on the subject of Junkerism and Militarism generally, and on the history of the literary propaganda of war between England and Potsdam which has been going on openly for the last forty years on both sides.  I beg the patience of my readers during this painful operation.  If it becomes unbearable, they can always put the paper down and relieve themselves by calling the Kaiser Attila and Mr. Keir Hardie a traitor twenty times or so.  Then they will feel, I hope, refreshed enough to resume.  For, after all, abusing the Kaiser or Keir Hardie or me will not hurt the Germans, whereas a clearer view of the political situation will certainly help us.  Besides, I do not believe that the trueborn Englishman in his secret soul relishes the pose of Injured Innocence any more than I do myself.  He puts it on only because he is told that it is respectable.

Junkers All.

What is a Junker?  Is it a German officer of twenty-three, with offensive manners, and a habit of cutting down innocent civilians with his sabre?  Sometimes; but not at all exclusively that or anything like that.  Let us resort to the dictionary.  I turn to the Encyclopaedisches Woerterbuch of Muret Sanders.  Excuse its quaint German-English.

Junker = Young nobleman, younker, lording, country squire, country gentleman, squirearch. Junkerberrschaft = squirearchy, landocracy. Junkerleben = life of a country gentleman, (figuratively) a jolly life. Junkerpartei = country party. Junkerwirtschaft = doings of the country party.

Thus we see that the Junker is by no means peculiar to Prussia.  We may claim to produce the article in a perfection that may well make Germany despair of ever surpassing us in that line.  Sir Edward Grey is a Junker from his topmost hair to the tips of his toes; and Sir Edward is a charming man, incapable of cutting down even an Opposition front bencher, or of telling a German he intends to have him shot.  Lord Cromer is a Junker.  Mr. Winston Churchill is an odd and not disagreeable compound of Junker and Yankee:  his frank anti-German pugnacity is enormously more popular than the moral babble (Milton’s phrase) of his sanctimonious colleagues.  He is a bumptious and jolly Junker, just as Lord Curzon is an uppish Junker.  I need not string out the list.  In these islands the Junker is literally all over the shop.