The German Genius

in the hearts of the German people. It would be quite wrong to express ourselves on this point with modesty and reservation. We Germans represent the…highest of all that European culture has ever brought forth; upon this rests the strength and the fullness of our self-esteem.” 14
    In his own wartime essay “Gedanken im Kriege” (Thoughts in War), Thomas Mann spoke of Germany’s “indispensable role as missionary” in defending the unique status of German Kultur against the superficial, liberal Zivilisation of the West. And he went on, “It is not so easy to be a German…[It is] not so comfortable as it is to be English, and not at all such a distinct and cheerful thing as it is to live as the French do. This people has difficulty with itself, it finds itself questionable, it suffers from itself to the point of outright disgust; but…it is those that suffer the most that are of the most worth, and whoever would wish that German manners should disappear from the world in favour of humanité and raison is committing a sacrilege.” Perhaps inevitably, at that stage anyway, he argued that Western-style democracy was not the German way. “[T]his most introspective of people, this people of metaphysics, of pedagogy and of music, is not a politically oriented, but a morally oriented people. And thus it has shown itself to be more hesitant and less interested in political progress towards democracy, towards parliamentary forms of government, and especially towards republicanism, than other [peoples].” 15
    Each of these critiques, beneath their contempt (or alleged contempt) for Britain and France (and America), exhibit a revulsion at the profound changes that industrial growth had wrought on society. Many across the world shared this view. Where the Germans differed, according to Roger Chickering and others, is that the educated class in particular believed that the state should intervene to “check the materialistic excesses of self-seeking minorities in the interests of the general good.” 16
     
     
    Not for the first time, it is a relief to turn away from this airless atmosphere, which was, in any case—and not to mince words—wrong. To jump ahead of ourselves for a moment, in 1961 the German historian Fritz Fischer published his book Griff nach der Weltmacht (translated as Germany’s Aims in the First World War ; 1967). In the 1950s he had been given access to the East German archives in Potsdam, where he came across an “explosive” set of files that, he claimed, showed that imperial Germany had aggressive annexation plans before World War I, and that, among other things, in December 1912, at an infamous “war council,” Wilhelm II and his military advisers “had made a decision to trigger a major war by the summer of 1914 and to use the intervening months to prepare the country for this settling of account.” 17 Fischer claimed that there was a new kind of nationalism abroad in Germany from 1890 on that had racial overtones, that many of the country’s historians and intellectuals supported the great expansion of naval hardware, that Nietzsche’s “will to power” was a view agreed on by these very same people as an important psychological factor in modern life, that there was in imperial Germany very little difference between business interests and political interests, that Germany’s main aim was to wipe out France and to keep Britain neutral. He further found that such a view was always unrealistic, that Germany initiated the arms race, that the Kaiser and his advisers came to the view that the time for diplomacy was over, believing “inter-racial conflict” was inevitable in the “settling of accounts.” 18 Fischer also concluded that it was Germany who most seriously misjudged the fighting abilities of her enemies or potential enemies.
    Fischer’s work will be discussed more fully in a later section of the book (he was accused of “treason” by fellow German historians). For now we can confine ourselves to the remarks of Fritz Stern who, in commenting on Fischer’s book, said that if one factor can account for World War I, it is the constant miscalculations of Germany’s prewar policies, stemming from “a chronic blindness,” a false estimation of themselves and of others, “a rare combination of Angst , arrogance and—in assessing the non-German world—political ignorance and insecurity.” 19
    The Manifesto of the 93 provoked a fierce reaction in both France and