| Review of: |
Don't Mention the War. The British and the Germans since 1890 by John Ramsden
Little, Brown.
Pages: 433. £20.00 |
| Reviewed By: |
Axel Körner |
| Reviewed in: |
The Political Quarterly |
| Date accepted online: |
02/11/2007 |
| Published in print: |
Volume 78, Issue 1, Pages 182-196 |
Book Reviews: Obsessed with 'the Krauts'
In 1852, the German novelist Theodor Fontane summarised his impressions of a summer spent in England. While Germany represents the soul, England is materialist and superficial. Fontane published two further volumes on England and Scotland, as well as historical poems on Britain's long-gone glories. Nearly two decades after Fontane's death, in 1917, the first book was reprinted with the title The English Character, a literary contribution to Germany's war effort. Reading the editor's introduction to the volume, one gets the impression that Germany needed to be reminded why it should hate the English on the other side of the trenches. Germany was less obsessed with its enemy than Britain. Ernst Jünger's accounts of the war, once hugely popular in both Germany and Britain, praised the knightly courage of British troops and evoked a sentiment of mutual understanding when officers of both armies conversed politely in French before continuing to shoot each other. In Germany, since the Napoleonic wars, national resentment concentrated largely on France, though frequently countered with expressions of francophilie. In Germany, there is no equivalent for British jokes about either 'frogs' or 'Huns' (though most readers will tend to explain this with reference to the Germans' lack of humour). The British obsession with the Germans, especially through the focus on the world wars, often provokes more surprise than anger among Germans. Modern Germans, identifying with Habermas's Verfassungspatriotismus rather than the nation itself, find the British tabloids' comparisons of German politicians with Nazi leaders tactless and distasteful, but this does not question their belief in good Anglo-German relations. They love English pop culture and, visiting London, they notice that despite the Sun's recurrent Wehrmacht caricatures, the English drink Becks, remember Marlene Dietrich and admire German cars. There were many Germans who, like Günther Grass, sympathised with British concerns regarding reunification. British history TV channels might concentrate a little too much on the wars, but few Germans would disagree with what they have to say about the Wehrmacht or the Waffen-SS. Apart from occasionally voiced concern among German ambassadors, the nation's rough representation in the press tends to provoke curiosity for a people most Germans would regard as friends, but which cannot stop being pleased with its victories in two world wars. John Ramsden, professor at Queen Mary and one of the leading experts on the history of the Conservative party, has produced a brilliantly written book on the British view of Germany, which is as interesting for German readers as it is for British audiences.
Most of Ramsden's book concentrates on anti-German resentment, on the twentieth century's decline of Britain's originally widespread admiration for most things German. While in 1891 The Times declared that 'Germany does not excite in any class among us the slightest feeling of distrust or antipathy', from the late 1890s 'the English began to hate', as Kipling put it. That said, during ten years of teaching European history in Britain, the German reviewer of this book has rarely encountered personal expressions of resentment. On one occasion, a cab driver recognised my accent and then launched into a most disgracefully sympathetic account on German war heroes, speculating whether, in the end, Britain did not fight on the wrong side. As with any such anecdote, these statements are difficult to interpret and communication is always a complex process. What does language reveal about an individual's thoughts? In Ramsden's book, there is little trace of an interest in reception theory. The author states in his introduction that he opted 'for the practical British approach'. Quoting from one of his sources, he chose 'to abandon the method and examine the results'. While this might contribute to his book's entertaining value and to its potential to reach a wider readership, this also presents the academic historian with problems. What do Kraut jokes reveal about feelings towards Germany? Hatred, indifference or the joy of being politically incorrect towards an easy victim?
The range of material that Ramsden explores is most impressive, reaching from British interest in nineteenth-century German hermeneutics and the popularity of Mendelssohn to differences between Parliament and Prince Albert, from Keynes's opposition to the Treaty of Versailles and ocial state visits to fictional accounts about the German 'sack of London'. Many readers will be attracted by sections on film and John Le Carre, or on Trautmann and Klinsmann. The Great War definitely presented the turning point in Anglo-German relations. 'Kill Germans! Kill them! [...] to save the world' was the Bishop of London's message, the logic of a war that Germany wanted more than anyone else, leading to unprecedented industrial mass-killing. Not all sentiments expressed were like that, and frequently bitterness gave way to satire and humour, even on the German side. When in 1917 George V renamed his family 'the house of Windsor', Wilhelm II instructed his court theatre to stage The Merry Wives of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. The British image of Germany never fully recovered from the First World War, despite periods of improvement. Some British commentators rejected the idea that Germany was solely responsible for the war. Britain championed German membership in the League of Nations, and German theatre as well as music became popular again. While architects admired the Bauhaus, Hitchcock learned his trade at the UFA in Berlin. Equally remarkable is that anti-German sentiment between 1939 and 1945 never reached the same levels as in 1914-18, and that even during the raids on the capital, Londoners continued to enjoy Wagner, one of Hitler's favourite composers. The chapter on German POWs after 1945, of which 6 per cent decided to stay, reveals the British ability to welcome former German soldiers among themselves. British civilians made extraordinary efforts to help ordinary Germans in the bombed cities during their years of misery. Compared to that, the popular media image of the Huns since the 1980s provokes perplexity.
Despite the impressive and well-researched detail of Ramsden's account, he avoids giving a reason for why the British view of the Germans did not improve, or why it got worse. The war might explain it all, but other nations that suffered far more under Germany throughout their history do not seem to have the same problem with their former aggressor-or at least it is less of a public issue than in Britain.
Considering the growing role of television in the formation of public opinion, was it all the fault of A. J. P. Taylor's absurd idea that 'gas-chambers represented Germany as truly as Gothic cathedrals represented the civilisation of the Middle Ages', or his regret that the Queen had to shake Adenauer's hand? Taylor avoided mentioning that concentration camps also contained hundreds of thousands of Germans.
Ramsden does not analyse the specific social and political milieus in which views on the Germans were formed and transmitted. His work remains descriptive and at times anecdotal, but it offers a fascinating read. Given their obsession with the Germans, most British readers will enjoy this book. German readers will feel at times amused, but also ashamed when being reminded how their grandfathers eternally damaged the German image abroad. They will be moved by the efforts of those British individuals and groups that, despite two world wars, invested their lives and careers in the improvement of Anglo-German relations. Nevertheless, in the end they will still ask themselves why coming to terms with modern Germany remains so difficult for the British people. No doubt the British image of the Germans tells us more about Britain than about Germany. But why do the Krauts matter at all?
