The Unz Review - Mobile
A Collection of Interesting, Important, and Controversial Perspectives Largely Excluded from the American Mainstream Media
Email This Page to Someone

 Remember My Information



=>
Publications Filter?
Da Russophile
Nothing found
 TeasersRussian Reaction Blog
/
Moltke the Elder

Bookmark Toggle AllToCAdd to LibraryRemove from Library • BShow CommentNext New CommentNext New Reply
🔊 Listen RSS

Though there are plenty of caveats and exceptions, it is safe to generalize that predictions of what the “next war” was going to be like before 1914 were completely inaccurate. The Great War would not be the quick, clean affair typical of the wars of German unification in the 1860′s-70′s or the sensationalist literature of the antebellum period. The generals were as wrong as the general public and war nerds. France had an irrationally fervent belief in the power of the offensive and dreamed of the Russians steam-rolling over Berlin before winter, while the Germans gambled their victory on the success of the Schlieffen plan. When the war finally came, the linear tactics of previous wars floundered in the machine guns, artillery, mud, and barbed wire of trench warfare. The belligerent societies were placed under so much strain by this first industrial total war that by its end, four great monarchies would vanish off the face of Europe.

Nonetheless, there were three theorists – a Communist, a Warsaw banker, and a Russian conservative minister – who did predict the future with a remarkable, even eerie, prescience. They were Friedrich Engels, Ivan Bloch, and Pyotr Durnovo.

Friedrich Engels

Way back in 1887, Friedrich Engels, the famous Communist theorist, wrote this remarkably accurate prediction of the next war.

world war of never before seen intensity, if the system of mutual outbidding in armament, carried to the extreme, finally bears its natural fruits… eight to ten million soldiers will slaughter each other and strip Europe bare as no swarm of locusts has ever done before. The devastations of the Third Years War condensed into three or four years and spread all over the continent: famine, epidemics, general barbarization of armies and masses, provoked by sheer desperation; utter chaos in our trade, industry and commerce, ending in general bankruptcy; collapse of the old states and their traditional wisdom in such a way that the crowns will roll in the gutter by the dozens and there will be nobody to pick them up; absolute impossibility to foresee how all this will end and who will be victors in that struggle; only one result was absolutely certain: general exhaustion and the creation of circumstances for the final victory of the working class.

Engels was completely right on the “total war” aspect. The number of military deaths in the war, 9.7mn, was within his predicted range. And indeed by 1918 there was a severe epidemic, the Spanish flu, and a year later the crowns of Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Turkey were all rolling in the gutter. The working class only got their “final victory” in Russia (though they came close in Hungary, Slovakia, and Bavaria).

Ivan Bloch

Ivan Bloch was a Warsaw banker, railway planner, and campaigner against Russian anti-Semitism. In 1899, he wrote a book Is War Now Impossible?, in which he argued that its costs would be such that the inevitable result would be a struggle of attrition and eventual bankruptcy and famine. His hope was that by getting people to comprehend the vast costs and uncertainties of future war, he could forestall it. Though he was unsuccessful in that goal, he did at least get the muted privilege of being almost 100% right about its nature. For instance, see this direct extract from his book.

At first there will be increased slaughter – increased slaughter on so terrible a scale as to render it impossible to get troops to push the battle to a decisive issue. They will try to, thinking that they are fighting under the old conditions, and they will learn such a lession that they will abandon the attempt forever. Then, instead of war fought out to the bitter end in a series of decisive battles, we shall have as a substitute a long period of continually increasing strain upon the resources of the combatants. The war, instead of being a hand-to-hand contest, in which the combatants measure their physical and moral superiority, will become a kind of stalemate, in which neither army being willing to get at the other, both armies will be maintained in opposition to each other, threatening the other, but never being able to deliver a final and decisive attack… That is the future of war – not fighting, but famine, not the slaying of men, but the bankruptcy of nations and the breakup of the whole social organization… Everybody will be entrenched in the next war. It will be a great war of entrenchments. The spade will be as indispensable to the soldier as his rifle… All wars will of necessity partake of the character of siege operations… soldiers may fight as they please; the ultimate decision is in the hand of famine… Unless you have a supreme navy, it is not worthwhile having one at all, and a navy that is not supreme is only a hostage in the hands of the Power whose fleet is supreme.

This is, of course, a pretty accurate prevision of WW1. It was a stalemate of artillery and entrenchments. The German home front collapsed in late 1918 in large part as a result of dearth resulting from being cut off from global food imports and the requisitioning of the chemical fertilizer industries for munitions production. And the Kaiserliche Marine was indeed bottled up in port for most of the war. To further demonstrate Bloch’s predictive genius, I will quote from Niall Ferguson’s summary of his book in The Pity of War.

In Is War Now Impossible? (1899), the abridged and somewhat mistitled English version of his massive six-volume study, the Warsaw financier Ivan Stanislavovich Bloch argued that, for three reasons, a major European war would be unprecedented in its scale and destructiveness. Firstly, military technology had transformed the nature of warfare in a war that ruled out swift victory for an attacker. “The day of the bayonet [was] over“; cavalry charges were too obsolete. Thanks to the increased rapidity and accuracy of rifle fire, the introduction of smokeless powder, the increased penetration of bullets and the greater range and power of the breech-loading cannon, traditional set-piece would not occur. Instead of hand-to-hand combat, men in the open would “simply fall and die without either seeing or hearing anything“. For this reason, “the next war… [would] be a great war of entrenchments“. According to Bloch’s meticulous calculations, a hundred men in a trench would be able to kill an attacking force up to four times as numerous, as the latter attempted to cross a 300-yard wide “fire zone“. Secondly, the increase in the size of European armies meant that any war would involve as many as ten million men, with fighting “spread over an enormous front”. Thus, although there would be very high rates of mortality (especially among officers), “the next war [would] be a long war“. Thirdly, and consequently, economic factors would be “the dominant and decisive elements in the matter”. War would mean:

entire dislocation of all industry and severing of all the sources of supply… the future of war [is] not fighting, but famine, not the slaying of men, but the bankruptcy of nations and the break-up of the whole social organization.

The disruption of trade would badly affect food supply in those countries reliant on imported grain and other foodstuffs. The machinery of distribution would also be disrupted. There would be colossal financial burdens, labour shortages and, finally, social instability.

He pretty much nails it! Now yes, Bloch wasn’t 100% spot on. He was slightly wrong about alliances. His was wrong in his conjecture that “the city dweller is by no means as capable of lying out at nights in damp and exposed conditions as the peasant”, which coupled with her agricultural self-sufficiency, would give Russia the advantage in a war with “more highly organized” Germany. And most of all, he was wrong in predicting that social instability and revolution would doom all the belligerent states – after all, the key war objective would only be to remain the last man standing.

Pyotr Durnovo

While reading Secular Cycles by Turchin & Nefedov, I came across a reference to a truly, remarkably prophetic document called the Durnovo Memorandum. It was penned by Pyotr Durnovo, a member of the State Council and former Minister of the Interior in Witte’s cabinet, and presented to the Tsar in February 1914. A conservative Russian nationalist, he emphasized that it was not in Russia’s interest to fight a costly and uncertain war with fellow monarchy Germany, a war he saw as only serving to further Albion’s aims. His fears were all astoundingly prescient and eventually, tragically realized. More than anything, this discovery spurred me to write this post.

After digging around I found that Douglas Muir had already written about it in History: The Durnovo Memorandum at A Fistful of Euros. It is an excellent summary and analysis, and I recommend you go over and read it in its entirety. In this section, I will liberally quote and paraphrase Doug’s post.

Under what conditions will this clash occur and what will be its probable consequences? The fundamental groupings in a future war are self-evident: Russia, France, and England, on the one side, with Germany, Austria, and Turkey, on the other.

Italy, if she has any conception of her real interests, will not join the German side. … [Romania] will remain neutral until the scales of fortune favor one or another side. Then, animated by normal political self-interest, she will attach herself to the victors, to be rewarded at the expense of either Russia or Austria. Of the other Balkan States, Serbia and Montenegro will unquestionably join the side opposing Austria, while Bulgaria and Albania (if by that time they have not yet formed at least the embryo of a State) will take their stand against the Serbian side. Greece will in all probability remain neutral…

Both America and Japan–the former fundamentally, and the latter by virtue of her present political orientation–are hostile to Germany, and there is no reason to expect them to act on the German side. … Indeed, it is possible that America or Japan may join the anti-German side…

Right off the bat, in February 1914, Durnovo correctly sketches out the WW1 alliance system, despite that “Italy was still officially allied with Germany and Austria, Ottoman Turkey was firmly neutral, and Romania was ruled by a Hohenzollern”.

Are we prepared for so stubborn a war as the future war of the European nations will undoubtedly become? This question we must answer, without evasion, in the negative… [T]here are substantial shortcomings in the organization of our defenses.

In this regard we must note, first of all, the insufficiency of our war supplies… the supply schedules are still far from being executed, owing to the low productivity of our factories. This insufficiency of munitions is the more significant since, in the embryonic condition of our industries, we shall, during the war, have no opportunity to make up the revealed shortage by our own efforts, and the closing of the Baltic as well as the Black Sea will prevent the importation from abroad of the defense materials which we lack.

Another circumstance unfavorable to our defense is its far too great dependence, generally speaking, upon foreign industry, a fact which, in connection with the above noted interruption of more or less convenient communications with abroad, will create a series of obstacles difficult to overcome. The quantity of our heavy artillery, the importance of which was demonstrated in the Japanese War, is far too inadequate, and there are few machine guns

The network of strategic railways is inadequate. The railways possess a rolling stock sufficient, perhaps, for normal traffic, but not commensurate with the colossal demands which will be made upon them in the event of a European war. Lastly, it should not be forgotten that the impending war will be fought among the most civilized and technically most advanced nations. Every previous war has invariably been followed by something new in the realm of military technique, but the technical backwardness of our industries does not create favorable conditions for our adoption of the new inventions. …

[A] war will necessitate expenditures which are beyond Russia’s limited financial means. We shall have to obtain credit from allied and neutral countries, but this will not be granted gratuitously. As to what will happen if the war should end disastrously for us, I do not wish to discuss now. The financial and economic consequences of defeat can be neither calculated nor foreseen, and will undoubtedly spell the total ruin of our entire national economy.

“Bang, bang, bang: too few heavy guns, not enough munitions production, inadequate rail network and rolling stock, too much reliance on imports, financial weakness. Durnovo doesn’t identify every problem Russia would have, but he’s hit about half of the top ten.” In particular, I was impressed with his negative assessment of Russia’s railways (which would break down later in the war resulting in food riots in the cities) and his gloomy perspective on the productivity and innovation potential of Russia’s military industrial complex. Obviously, he leaves out a set of other crucial factors – the administrative and political failings of the Russian state itself (the corruption and incompetence of many Russian ministers like Sukhomlinov, the personal foibles of the Tsar and the malignant influence of court lackeys, etc). Whether this omission was due to political considerations or Durnovo’s own blind-sidedness as a conservative stalwart is open to interpretation.

If the war ends in victory, the putting down of the Socialist movement will not offer any insurmountable obstacles. There will be agrarian troubles, as a result of agitation for compensating the soldiers with additional land allotments; there will be labor troubles during the transition from the probably increased wages of war time to normal schedules; and this, it is to be hoped, will be all, so long as the wave of the German social revolution has not reached us. But in the event of defeat, the possibility of which in a struggle with a foe like Germany cannot be overlooked, social revolution in its most extreme form is inevitable.

As has already been said, the trouble will start with the blaming of the Government for all disasters. In the legislative institutions a bitter campaign against the Government will begin, followed by revolutionary agitations throughout the country, with Socialist slogans, capable of arousing and rallying the masses, beginning with the division of the land and succeeded by a division of all valuables and property. The defeated army, having lost its most dependable men, and carried away by the tide of primitive peasant desire for land, will find itself too demoralized to serve as a bulwark of law and order. The legislative institutions and the intellectual opposition parties, lacking real authority in the eyes of the people, will be powerless to stem the popular tide, aroused by themselves, and Russia will be flung into hopeless anarchy, the issue of which cannot be foreseen. …

No matter how strange it may appear at first sight, considering the extraordinary poise of the German character, Germany, likewise, is destined to suffer, in case of defeat, no lesser social upheavals. The effect of a disastrous war upon the population will be too severe not to bring to the surface destructive tendencies, now deeply hidden. … there will be a revival of the hitherto concealed separatist tendencies in southern Germany, and the hidden antagonism of Bavaria to domination by Prussia will emerge in all its intensity.

Things went, as they say, to the letter. Not only does Durnovo seriously entertain the prospect of Russia’s defeat, but he spells out its consequences with an almost eerie accuracy. The Empire was indeed wracked by social revolution, as the railway system and food supply system began to disintegrate by late 1916 and popular resentment against the government was inflamed by court scandals. The soldiers in St.-Petersburg in February 1917, many of them recently drafted peasants who did not want to fight for a regime under which they were non-propertied and disenfranchised, would join the workers demonstrating for bread instead of dispersing them. Within another year, Russia was wracked by total anarchy. Likewise, following its defeat, Germany experienced political fissures between the far right and the far left, and even saw the emergence of the short-lived Bavarian Soviet Republic. If one were very generous, Durnovo’s mention of “destructive tendencies” could even be said to have hinted at the coming of Nazism.

“Durnovo glosses over a lot, and gets some details wrong. His contempt for intellectuals and the Duma is very clear in the last part of the memo, and it leads him down a couple of dead ends. But he’s so right about so many things that picking out his errors is really quibbling. In the last hundred years of European history, I’m not aware of any document that makes so many predictions, of such importance, so correctly. And I’m astonished that it doesn’t get more attention from western historians.”

The German General Staff

This is not to say that all European armies were infatuated with the offensive and the bayonet. In particular, certain thinkers from the elite German General Staff stand out for their prescience. They feared that rapid Franco-Russian military modernization meant Germany had to plan for a two-front war of attrition instead of a rapid, one-front campaign of annihilation. Thus Moltke the Elder foresaw that the convergence of social and technological trends would make the Prussian tradition of ‘total force applied in limited ways for limited objectives’ obsolete, or in his last Reichstag speech of 1890, that the “age of cabinet war” would have to give way to “people’s war”.

His disciple Colmar von der Goltz had expounded on these views in his influential book Das Volk in Waffen back in 1883, which advocated the mobilization of all human and material resources under firm military rule for the duration of the war. (Although, unlike Bloch or Engels he did not cover the impact on the civilian role in much detail, e.g. how to feed the population or maintain industrial production – on which total war would make unprecedented demands – under harsh conditions of blockade). Köpke , the Quartermaster of the General Staff, wrote in 1895: “Even with the most offensive spirit…nothing more can be achieved than a tedious and bloody crawling forward step by step here and there by way of an ordinary attack in siege style – in order to slowly win some advantages”.

Yet for all the brilliant foresight of a few members of the German General Staff, as a body it institutionalized the military philosophy of the past. The best proof is its fixation on the Schlieffen Plan, described by B.H. Liddell Hart as a “conception of Napoleonic boldness”, which aimed to knock out France early in the war so that Germany would not have to confront the geo-strategic horror of waging a two-front war against the Entente Cordiale. But while it may have worked a decade or two before WW1, by 1914 it suffered from a host of unwarranted assumptions that made its success highly uncertain – e.g., a lack of effective Belgian resistance, a slow Russian mobilization, the ineffectiveness of the British Expeditionary Force, and underestimation of French logistical capacities and overestimation of their own. So even an institution as brilliant as the German General Staff was trapped between the Scylla of past experience and the Charybdis of new technologies; they were just somewhat more aware of this trap than the other European armies.

What’s the point of this post? It is really a confluence of several interests – the history of World War One, history in general, and futurism. It might not challenge any existing “narrative”, but I do think it adds a bit of richness to the subject, and reinforces the theme that sometimes the “conventional wisdom” (among both masses and elites) can be very, very wrong, and only recognized as so by a few pundits coming from surprisingly varied, even opposed, ideological positions.

(Republished from Sublime Oblivion by permission of author or representative)
 
🔊 Listen RSS

In the summer of 1914, the world was integrated as never before. Despite its simmering tensions and conscript armies, the European continent had open borders, a shared respect for private property and rule of law, and dynastic ties that bound its monarchs together – most poignantly represented by the pageantry surrounding the funeral of Edward VII of England in 1910, the world’s largest assemblage of royalty and rank in history. The expansion of world trade, free labor migration and the rise of a cosmopolitan cultural milieu defined this first great globalization.

It was accompanied by democratization, as many nations acquired parliaments and and widened their franchise: by 1900, some 29% of Frechmen, 22% of Germans, 18% of British and 15% of Russians had the vote. In supposedly belligerent Germany, the anti-war Social Democrats won 34.8% of the vote in 1912. Though there were strident militarist and pan-nationalist lobbies, they were partially countered by pacifist movements and moderated by mainstream politicians, who viewed the prospect of a general war with apprehension: even in Germany, with its reputation for bombastic rhetoric, in July 1914 Chancellor Bethman remarked, “a world war with its incalculable consequences would tremendously strengthen the power of Social democracy… and topple many a throne”. Yet glimmers of darkness on the horizon presaged a gathering storm, and “the sun of the old world was setting in a dying blaze of splendor never to be seen again”.

The First World War ended the first golden age of globalization and history returned to Europe with a vengeance. It killed or maimed a generation of European men, destroyed four great empires and spawned the disillusionment that would find its (apparent) resolution in totalitarian ideologies. This “war to end all wars” came to be known as the first “total” or “Blochian” war, and as the “Great War” in the British Isles, replacing the Napoleonic Wars which had hitherto fallen under that designation.

One reason for viewing the First World War as a historical crossroads was the unprecedented “totality” of the conflict. The war was up till then unsurpassed in the blood sacrifice it demanded of its participants, producing around 10mn military dead and twice as many wounded during four years of brutal industrialized warfare. Only fifty parishes in England and Wales, called “thankful villages”, suffered no war dead amongst their menfolk who went off to the trenches. The killed as a percentage of military manpower were far higher in other nations such as Serbia (23%) and France (13%), and far more were wounded. Such concentrated carnage had not been seen in Europe since the Thirty Years War.

This outcome was unanticipated by the conventional wisdom before the war, which assumed that the next war would be characterized by rapid, railway-based mobilization, followed by massed attacks, set-piece battles and glorious, unambiguous victories like Sedan in 1870 – in other words, just like the last war that generals always plan for. The side with the most élan or steadfastness (particularly emphasized in France) would carry the day and the war would be over by Christmas, the final victory usually predicted to go to the commentator’s own country.

This was reflected in the antebellum pulp war fiction, such as L. James’s The Boy Galloper, in which English schoolboys fight off a German invasion (kind of like a precursor to Red Dawn). Other literary masterpieces from this genre carried titles such as The Invasion of 1910, When England Slept and When William Came: A History of London under the Hohenzollerns. The armchair generals and war nerds weren’t all British. A similar genre flourished throughout Europe, for instance Friedrich von Bernhardi with his magnum opus Germany and the Next War (1912), “three of [whose] chapter titles, ‘The Right to Make War’, ‘The Duty to Make War’, and ‘World Power or Downfall’ sum up its thesis”. In short, substantial segments of society in most European nations imagined the next war would be short, clean and glorious.

These attitudes enjoyed general acceptance throughout Europe, which was at the time an excellent crucible for the kind of values needed to fight an industrial Great War. Their conscript armies were integral to imagining communities into nation-states, giving cohorts of men from diverse provinces a common background. This was reinforced by schools, churches and the universities – for instance, at the University of Berlin the political theorist Heinrich von Treitschke gave a series of lectures headlined under: “Without war, there would be no state”.

Despite philosophical objections to its brutality, “in reading German justifications for the war, one is struck by a consistent emphasis on the need for a kind of objectless struggle, a struggle that would have purifying moral effects quite independently of whether Germany gained colonies or won freedom of the seas”. In Britain, the sense of national duty led all but 8 of 539 boys leaving Winchester (a school for the elite) in 1909-1915 to volunteer. In France, “almost in awe, a foreign observer reported the upsurge of “national devotion” joined with an “entire absence of excitement” in a people of whom it had so often been predicted that anarchical influences had undermined their patriotism”. And off to war they went, the sons of workers, doctors, artists and soldiers alike, driven on by an ingrained sense of duty heavier than a mountain.

Many of these delusions about the short war crept over into military thinking, which tended to extrapolate from past conflicts like the Franco-Prussian war. France was afflicted with the dogma of the frontal offensive, with its unflinching belief that cran (“gutsiness”), the bayonet and Plan XVII would lead to victory – no matter the visibility of their soldiers’ pantalons rouges in an era of bolt-action rifles and their relative lack of heavy artillery for reducing well-defended German positions. The Germans held rigidly to the Schlieffen Plan, an ostensibly workable scheme if firmly adhered to, as requested by its designers on his deathbed; yet Moltke the Younger, then Chief of the German General Staff, weakened it over his unfounded fears of the “Russian steamroller” blasting its way into Prussia – in itself an Entente dream that never really materialized.

Similarly, naval planners envisaging a decisive Trafalgar between the Royal Navy and the Reichsmarine were to be disappointed as the sea struggle devolved into a dispiriting game of blockade and counter-blockade.

Some military men did anticipate these trends, such as Moltke the Elder, who foresaw that the convergence of social and technological trends would make the Prussian tradition of ‘total force applied in limited ways for limited objectives’ obsolete, and that the ‘age of cabinet war’ would have to give in to ‘people’s war’. This view was shared by his disciple Colmar von der Goltz, whose influential book Das Volk in Waffen advocated the mobilization of all human and material resources under firm military rule for the duration of the war. This would eventually come to pass in the last year of the First World War, when Generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff became virtual dictators of the Reich.

Interestingly enough, the most accurate predictions came from a financier and a Communist. The Warsaw banker Ivan Bloch in Is War Now Impossible? (1899) argued that military developments ended the ‘day of the bayonet’ and that the ‘next war…[would] be a great war of entrenchments’, with ten million men ‘spread over an enormous front’. The final triumph would go to the side with the greatest industrial production, socio-political strength and self-sufficiency. As early as 1887, Friedrich Engels envisaged, “a world war of never before seen extension and intensity…eight to ten million soldiers will slaughter each other…the devastations of the Thirty Years War condensed into three or four years and spread all over the continent; famines, epidemics, general barbarization of armies and masses…collapse of the old states and their traditional wisdom in such a way that the crowns roll in the gutter by the dozens and there will be nobody to pick them up…general exhaustion and the creation of circumstances for the final victory of the working class”.

Far from states collapsing after a few months due to general exhaustion, as posited by the prominent anti-war activist Norman Angell in The Great Illusion (1909), these two prophets of the next war proved remarkably accurate. Contrary to the pre-war emphasis on the charge and the bayonet, the vast majority of casualties accrued to artillery and machine gun fire. Nations suborned their industries into producing war material, strikes were suppressed and wartime social controls like rationing were imposed.

Civilians became increasingly legitimate targets, with primitive air raids and naval blockades explicitly targeting them. The German advance into Belgium was marked by vicious reprisals against Belgian civilians suspected of being franc-tireurs, bringing the first taste of what had previously been confined to their colonial empires, such as the misnamed Congo Free State, to ‘civilized’ Europe. The first (arguably) genocide of the twentieth century was carried out by the waning Ottoman Empire against its Armenian minority. As the circle of hate deepened, things like Christmas truces and football matches ceased between British and German soldiers. According to Niall Ferguson’s counter-intuitive observation in The Pity of War, men would fight and kill with decreasing reluctance and increasing enthusiasm as the war progressed.

After the failure of the Spring Offensive in 1918 and the introduction of fresh, well-equipped American troops, backed by the world’s first industrial power, Germany’s surrender was probably inevitable; by the end of the year, its home front in collapse. The enemy blockade had cut off vital imports such as phosphates for agriculture, fuelled massive inflation (ersatz substitutes could no longer cope) and stirred social discontent. (Yet just a year previously Germany had managed to knock underdeveloped Russia out of the war, whose political cohesiveness and military potential evaporated under the stresses of total war, and imposed the harsh Treaty of Brest-Litovsk on it). Nationalists would reinterpret the German request for an armistice in November 1918 as a perfidious “stab in the back” by Jews, socialists and civilian politicians – the so-called “November criminals”, and this myth would later contribute to the rise of Hitler.

This was part of the general post-war disillusionment. Gloomy poems and art; “Dulce et Decorum Est”; war cripples; veterans unable to adjust to civilian life; socialist agitation and right-wing reaction; Spengler’s The Decline of the West; the feeling that it was all for nothing: these are some of the things characterizing the post-war period. In Germany, the once-high fertility rate fell by half within just a decade from 1914 to the 1920′s; until then, a uniquely rapid demographic transition. In his The Realities of War, the former British war correspondent Philip Gibbs presented a picture of the war very different from his wartime propaganda.

Perhaps the most well-known work in this category was Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front, published in 1929. It tells in unpretentious prose the rigors, tragedy and banality of military life: the hypocrisy of schoolmasters sending off their pupils to war, the waste of youth to shells, bullets and brothels, etc. Perhaps the most poignant scene is where a truck comes laden with fresh troops and takes away coffins with corpses – a most fitting metaphor. Nonetheless, we must not lose sight of the fact that it really was a “great” war for some soldiers – they enjoyed the feelings of camaraderie and shared sacrifice involved in the great battles, and violently recreated them in the Russian Civil War, armed skirmishes throughout Europe’s new borders and within internal paramilitary organizations such as the Freikorps and Blackshirts.

The First World War was in many ways a seminal event of the twentieth century and of military history. First, it was the fulfillment of something long anticipated by and prepared for by many Europeans, including former conscripts, generals, national policy-makers, and philosophers. Second, it was unprecedented in its bloodiness, both in the slaughter of soldiers in the Flemish trenches and the Polish plains, and the atrocities against civilians – especially evident in the Balkans and Turkey, and a dark presage of what would come in the next war. Third, it necessitated a similarly unprecedented degree of national mobilization and government interference in civilian life, which had hitherto run on classical liberal lines – most fully in Britain, but also to an extent in most other European nations. Fourth, it defined the worldviews of the millions of men who served in the trenches, who ushered in a wave of disillusionment with the old order – social life was increasingly polarized between never-again pacifists and embittered militarists. Fifth, it redefined the geopolitics of Europe, bringing down the German, Russian, Austrian and Ottoman Empires, and stoking resentments that would again bubble to the fore and result in a second, even more terrible war.

Above all, the war radically changed the national consciences of all of its participants. Germany went from being a confident, boisterous expansive power, to one embittered by defeat and post-war humiliation by the Treaty of Versailles – yet still possessing the latent industrial and waning demographic strength to avenge itself. France was permanently traumatized, adopting a barrier mentality with the building of the Maginot Line – not surprisingly, because not only were its military losses the most severe in relative terms among the West European belligerents, but they impacted on one of its lowest-fertility populations.

Even today, this epic struggle remains the “Great War” in the United Kingdom because of the unprecedented social changes it unleashed – a certain leveling of classes from rationing, conscription, and government controls on key industries like coal. For a previously insular isle, which before had relied on its navy, professional armies, and mercenaries to fight European wars, this was a major discontinuity. In both Britain and France, the will to fight for the nation was permanently sapped.

Yet the greatest impact of all was incurred by Russia, which was forcibly taken over by a radical anti-capitalist sect, the Bolsheviks, who embarked on their world-historical project to leapfrog into Europe’s future by reinforcing the most extreme elements of traditional Russian absolutism. They were unsuccessful in their endeavor, and Stalin ended up returning Russia to Russia’s future.

The first total war in modern times was Year Zero in the secular decline of Europe – and the genesis of mankind’s reaction against it – and as such, the apotheosis of the West.

(Republished from Sublime Oblivion by permission of author or representative)
 
No Items Found
Anatoly Karlin
About Anatoly Karlin

I am a blogger, thinker, and businessman in the SF Bay Area. I’m originally from Russia, spent many years in Britain, and studied at U.C. Berkeley.

One of my tenets is that ideologies tend to suck. As such, I hesitate about attaching labels to myself. That said, if it’s really necessary, I suppose “liberal-conservative neoreactionary” would be close enough.

Though I consider myself part of the Orthodox Church, my philosophy and spiritual views are more influenced by digital physics, Gnosticism, and Russian cosmism than anything specifically Judeo-Christian.