Europe Revisited 1.—The Rhineland [Two years ago, the Spectator published
a series of articles called "Europe after Twenty Years," recording impressions re- ceived during a tour through Northern Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, the Baltic Republics, Poland and the Danzig Corridor. The writer of these articles has just returned from a lengthy stay in Central Europe, during which he has had special opportunities of meeting many of the political leaders. Under the above heading he will contribute a series of articles dealing with Southern Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia, of which this is the first.—En. Spectator.] T0 an Englishman who had not been in Southern Germany since the War, the summer of 1929 was an interesting time for a visit because rumours of the speedy evacuation of the Rhineland by the British Forces were already in circulation. On one of the last days of my stay, as I was steaming along the Rhine under the shadow of Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, from which was fluttering the French flag, I read in the Kolnische Zeitung the welcome news from The Hague that the evacuation would begin at once, and be completed by the end of June next year. Let us hope that there will never be another occasion on which the presence of British troops will be required on the Continent of Europe. My first sight of the British occupation was a group of three or four " Tommies " at Biebrich, and within twenty-four hours I had become quite accustomed to seeing British troops in the Rhineland. One of the events of the day in Wiesbaden was the "changing guard at the British headquarters, and I joined the large crowd of Germans one morning who kept in step with " P. W. V.'s " band as it marched along the Wilhelmstrasse. I was surprised to find the interest that the crowd—mostly young men— took in the march past of a couple of companies of British troops ; perhaps it was because they belonged to the post-War generation.
The impression I received in Northern Germany two years ago of the people's dislike of militarism was con- firmed wherever I went in Southern Germany. One naturally sees fewer soldiers than elsewhere in Europe, in accordance with the prescription of the Peace Treaty, but the people, as far as the stranger can judge from passing talks and from reading the German Press, seem much less interested in the business of war than of old. To anyone who knew pre-War Germany intimately, the difference is most striking, it scarcely seems to be the same country. Then the books in the shops, the illus- trated weeklies, and the daily Press were largely devoted to military and naval topics. To-day Germany has turned her latent energy to sport, outdoor life, and flying. There was enormous enthusiasm for the two outstanding " sporting " events of the summer, the record Atlantic passage of the ' Bremen,' and the world flight of the ` Graf Zeppelin.' As I was making some purchases in a bookseller's shop, the shopkeeper, his face flushed with pride, bent forward and said, " The ` Graf Zeppelin ' has arrived at Los Angeles. You will read about it in the paper to-night." To understand what Germany feels about the rewinning of the blue ribbon of the Atlantic by the ` Bremen ' and Dr. Eckener's wonderful flight round the world, one must- remember the deep vale of humiliation through which she has passed since the War. I am not here reopening the well-worn subject of her responsibility for the War or of the proportion of war-guilt to be allotted to each nation. Just as suffering is neces- sary to bring out the best things in the individual, so it may be necessary for the spiritual growth of nations that they should drink the cup of humiliation. Four pictures occur to my mind. The first is a visit to a leadiiig doOtor with a European reputation in a famous watering-place two summers before the War, who poured out a torrent of abuse of the " British policy of encirclement of Germany " and who openly boasted that " before many years the German Navy would be supreme and then no longer would Germany be kept from her rightful place in the sun and forced to occupy a subordinate position." My second picture is a visit in the spring of 1900 to a little town on the Rhine, in picturesque setting, overshadowed by a mediaeval castle. The town was en file and the streets were garlanded. Everywhere the "Schwarz, Weiss, Rot" (the old national flag, black, white, red) was hanging out and the streets were thronged. In the distance I saw the cause of the enthusiasm and commotion—the crews of several torpedo-boats were marching to a hall where they were being feted by the proud and patriotic towns- folk. Visits of naval detachments by river to the interior of the Fatherland were a feature of pre-War Germany, when every opportunity of inculcating pride in the rapidly growing German Navy was used and when the popular cry throughout the country was " unsere Zukunft liegt auf dem Waver" (Our future lies on the water). My third picture is a conversation this year with a hairdresser at Coblenz, who had lived in England before the War and thought longingly of those happy days. We were discussing European politics. " What a mad thing war is," he said. " I have been through several years of its hell on the Western and Eastern fronts. Somehow we have got to cesise hating one another and become good Europeans. I read everything I see in the papers on the pan-European idea and I hope to live to see a United States of Europe in being." I fear my little barber friend is an optimist— and I do not pretend that his views are widely held or that the old Adam is not just as much alive in Germany as elsewhere—but the fact that opinions such as these are now held by the man-in-the-street and that you frequently come across them shows how much water has flowed past the Loreley since 1914.
My final picture is of a visit to one of the churches at Bad Kissingen at the end of August this year—a few days before the result of the Hague Conference on evacuation was announced. The church was packed to overflowing and the preacher took for his subject the mystery of suffering. In an eloquent sermon he drew an analogy between the life of the human being and of the nation. He said that, as in the individual life, suffering was often a mystery at the time and it was only after the passing of many years that the under- lying meaning was revealed, so, as one looks back in history, one can often understand why nations have had to go through times of humiliation. His audience hung on his words as he drew his moral that Germany —like any other nation which has suffered—would benefit from her trials in the long run if she emerged purified by them.
Germany does not seem quite so spick and span as She did under the Kaiser, and the railway and other officials did not appear to me either as smart or as aggressively efficient " as they used to. Altogether one gets an impression of a nation that has partly lost its self-assurance—of a nation subdued, and among the elder people very many sad faces are to be seen. frequently received the impression of national disillusion- ment, of scepticism, as regards the League of Nations and of past suffering. The politeness which greets you everywhere is remarkable ; Germany is to-day the politest country in Europe. Knowledge of the English language has spread enormously. Wherever you go English is spoken, and even those who have never been in England, but whose English is derived from the Berlitz School or the Otto-Sauer method, insist on talking English to you. Wonders have been achieved by German industry in the direction of rationalization since the currency became stabilized, but superficially Germany does not give the feeling of prosperity which she did in the 'nineties and during the first decade of the present century. I have seen beggars in South and North Germany during my last two visits, a thing unheard of before the War—although there are not as many outward signs of poverty as in England.
The German hotel industry is extraordinarily efficient, and German hotels are quite as well managed as the Swiss and, on the whole, not so expensive. Everywhere there is running hot and cold water in the bedrooms and the cooking is excellent. My only complaint with the modern German hotelier is that if you dislike meat you may sometimes have difficulty in getting a sufficiently varied vegetarian fare when the ubiquitous omelette palls. Although you do not see as many fat people in Germany as in pre-War days, overeating is still a national failing among the elder generation. The Germans eat too much meat and during the afternoon eat large teas with rich cakes. The national health would improve greatly if a crusade advocating " two meals a day and no ' nibbles ' between meals " were embarked upon. The British hotel industry, especially in the provinces, has much to learn from Germany in looking after the comfort of guests, and I hope in a future article to describe in detail some of the " gadgets '? which help to make pleasant a stay in Germany.
It is still too early to judge what will be the effect on the national physique of the growing enthusiasm for sport and for outdoor life among the post-War generation —but it must be good, and in time we may witness a nation of slim Germans. Englishmen pride themselves on their love of fresh air ; in reality they have much to learn from young Germany. The German Fraulein dresses much as her English sister, except that she usually goes about hatless, and dresses with sleeves in the summer are the exception and many bare legs are to be seen. But Englishmen seem ludicrously over- clothed to one just returned from Central Europe. The majority of men go about hatless, and in the mountain and holiday resorts shorts and open-necked shirts are the rule, coats are entirely dispensed wit]; ; or, if a coat must be worn, a light-coloured coarse linen unlined jacket called a "Joppe" is affected. The German habit of shaving the head may be hygienic, but it is ugly and is not one which we are likely to adopt.
Certainly the number of shaved heads met with is remarkable. The passion for exposing their bodies to the sun is apparently shared by the German working- classes, and frequently men stripped to the waist, whose bodies are a deep mahogany colour, are to be met with in railroad construction gangs, doing road-making, or working .in the fields. You would never see in Germany a gardener mowing the lawn wearing a thick waistcoat, heavy trousers, and a bowler hat, as I did on my second .day back in England during the hot weather.
Every day on the Rhine, on other rivers and on the lakes, great• numbers of young folk in bathing clothes, the men bare to the waist, are to be met with canoeing, boating, and yachting, and they remain thus clad all day. Even on days when the sun is not shining, .young Germany goes about, stripped to the waist. The enthusiasm shourrtor bathing is unknown in this country, and during the warm summer weather the Germans in their thousands disport themselves all day long in lake, river, and sea, and lie for hours afterwards sun- bathing. I have not studied vital statistics, but the health of the younger generation must be much improved. During a summer spent in 'Germany, you hardly ever have a meal indoors, and on many occasions when I had to fetch an overcoat, Germans of both sexes, the girls with the flimsiest of dresses and bare arms, were sitting quite unconcernedly, and they did not seem to notice the chill evening air.
Very few French words are used nowadays and a German substitute has usually been found ; the menu has become " die Speisenfolge," and sauce, " Tunke,". and so on. French is not spoken as much as formerly, to the benefit of English—but this phenomenon is not restricted to Germany, and I have found a similar tendency throughout Scandinavia and Central Europe since the War. To the English journalist the German daily Press remains a mystery. Its contents are admir- able, its articles well written, but the manner in which they are served up to the reader—in the language of journalism, the " make-up "—is deplorable. The most important pages are filled with lengthy articles and cables set up in German characters in small type and scarcely broken up at all. Only the most determined reader would be undeterred by such solid masses of reading matter. I am told that the German newspaper-reading public likes its mental diet served up in this form, and no doubt German editors know best, but I cannot help feeling that one day a German " Northcliffe " will arise, who will alter the entire make-up of the leading German newspapers, just as Lord Northcliffe changed, from the technical standpoint, that of the Times twenty years ago.
There is a widespread desire to live on friendly terms with Great Britain, and both nations have much to learn from each other. If peace in Europe is to be lasting, co-operation between Great Britain, France, and Germany is essential. Recent events have largely dispelled the idea that British foreign policy is dictated from the Quai d'Orsay, but Germany is still suspicious. Friendship between the leading Central European country and Great Britain need not be exclusive, but British policy must aim at co-operation through the League of Nations with all nations equally, and the old policy of alliance and counter-alliance must never be allowed to return.
The first essential for world peace is a better understanding of mutual problems. That the younger generations of two of the leading nations in the world, both occupying key positions in the European system, should grow up knowing little about each other is to be deplored. Whatever the mistakes made in the past let us hope that personal contact between the British' and German peoples will be made to an ever-increasing extent. Englishmen visiting Germany for the first time will be assured of a delightful holiday, and they will return from it with a better comprehension of some of the difficulties of Central Europe. J.
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