Professor harry elmer barnes a tireless exposer of historical myths

Postscript

Now that the truth is no longer obscured by the myths of propaganda, only one question of universal interest remains concerning that unique period of history labelled in this book “the advance to barbarism”. There can be no question that this retrograde movement of civilization began in 1914. Historians will long find in the distinctive characteristics of this period, genocide, terror bombing, mass-deportations of populations and war-crimes trials, numberless problems for investigation and dispute. But only one problem remains of personal interest to everyone.

No one dreamed in 1914 that the war which had just broken out would cause any more lengthy and violent reaction than any previous civil war, although the furious passions which it generated from the start puzzled many observers. Within a year of the outbreak of hostilities, in explanation of the boundless enthusiasm which inspired his troops, mostly volunteers, setting forth on the Dardanelles expedition, General Sir Ian Hamilton wrote in his diary, “Once in a generation a mysterious wish for war passes through the people.” He offered no diagnosis of this mysterious wish. No doubt the subject will be cleared up one day in the usual way by giving it a Latin name. Looking back after nearly twenty years at a time when the Wicked Kaiser Myth was still accepted by most professional historians, Field Marshal Lord Allenby declared, “The great War was a period of lengthy insanity.” Looking back after the passage of another thirty years it is clear that the so-called Great War was a relatively mild preliminary symptom.

The mysterious periodic wish which found expression in 1914 had been generated among the leading members of the White Race during the latter end of the 19th century, a period to them of such absolute security and boundless prosperity that war had come to seem a relief from boredom. For a decade an explosion had been inevitable. The fatal spark was provided on the 28th June, 1914, by a moronic student named Gavril Princep successfully carrying out the mission entrusted him by certain leading members of the Serbian Government to murder at Serajevo the Austrian Archduke Francis Ferdinand.

Are there reasonable grounds for thinking that the chain reaction set in motion by the murder of the heir to the Austrian throne has at last come to an end?

It is difficult to keep this question distinct from the question so often asked, what will be the consequences to the human race of the invention of the atomic bomb?

In origin the discovery of the secrets of nuclear fission and of the retrograde movement in human affairs which began in 1914 are quite unconnected.

The atomic bomb was the practical application for the purpose of destruction of the discoveries by the physicists in the mid-19th century of the nature of the atom. By the end of the century it had become established that enormous forces were locked up in the atom and the possibility was dimly realised that it might be possible to use these forces to cause an explosion of unprecedented violence. By the commencement of the Second World War, the means by which this aim might be achieved had been realised and Albert Einstein appealed to President Roosevelt to spare no pains or expense to test whether the theoretical knowledge obtained by laboratory experiments could be used for constructing a contraption which would be able to blot out human life on a gigantic scale.

It was an unhappy chance that the secrets of atomic structure should have been finally mastered in 1945. It is without question the greatest tragedy in human history that mankind should have become possessed of unique powers of self-destruction just at a time when mankind had never before been less fitted to use these powers sanely.

It is certainly arguable that the atomic bomb would never have been constructed except during a ferocious war when nothing seemed to matter but the attainment of victory. Laboratory experiments in peacetime could only have confirmed a theoretical possibility of making an atomic bomb: in peacetime no government could have undertaken the fabulously costly tests which were necessary to establish this theoretical possibility was practical. Also in peacetime no government could have faced the general opprobrium which it would have incurred from an attempt, on too gigantic a scale to be kept secret, to construct a contraption designed not for use on the battlefield but to blot out civilian populations.

It is arguable also that the atomic bomb when constructed would not have been tested by dropping it on a defenceless city had not the conscience of mankind been previously paralysed by a long series of crimes against humanity.

Certainly the dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima may be regarded as a natural sequel to the adoption three years before of the Lindemann Plan to initiate a terror bombing campaign against Germany. It was inspired by the same spirit and it may fairly be regarded as the final and supreme example of terror bombing without disguise and excuse.

There is a remarkable similarity between the mass air raid on Dresden and the attack on Hiroshima six months later. No one protested when in 1967 Lord Boothby described the air raid on Dresden as “a dastardly act”, not because of the number of victims but because it served no military purpose.¹ The dropping of the first atomic bomb was also an act of pure terrorism. It fulfilled no military purpose of any kind. Belatedly it has been disclosed that seven months before it was dropped, in January 1945, President Roosevelt received via General MacArthur’s headquarters an offer by the Japanese Government to surrender on terms virtually identical to those accepted by the United States after the dropping of the bomb: in July 1945, as we now know, Roosevelt’s successor, President Truman, discussed with Stalin at Bébelsberg the Japanese offer to surrender.

The motivation behind the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima may be said to be still a subject of dispute. It is certain that Truman did not give the order for it to be dropped on the insistence of his military advisers. Some of the scientists concerned in its construction opposed this step on humanitarian grounds: others including the famous Jewish physicist Dr. Robert Oppenheimer were in favour because, they urged, only by a test in war conditions could it be demonstrated that their long and costly efforts had succeeded in creating a weapon of unique power for taking human life.² In short the Japanese people were to be enlisted as human guinea-pigs for a scientific experiment.

Although no military or political purpose existed to be served, President Truman gave the necessary order to drop the bomb: some seventy thousand men, women and children were killed in a fraction of a second.

Reverting to the question, “Are there reasonable grounds for thinking that the chain reaction triggered off in 1914 by Princep’s crime has at last petered out?”, the invention of the atomic bomb has made it possible to give an optimistic reply.

Each stage of this chain reaction was the natural consequence of the one which preceded it. Throughout the process the next stage was long beforehand plainly discernible. The furious passions aroused by the First World War led inevitably to the Versailles Diktat which in turn led inevitably to the Second World War during which all restraint was in the end abandoned. When hostilities ceased in 1945 the next stage of the chain reaction seemed obvious. Roosevelt’s blind subservience to Stalin at die Teheran Conference in 1943 foreshadowed the subjection of Western Europe by force to Communism. It appeared only a matter of time before Stalin would feel himself strong enough to abandon the pretence of being a loyal ally in a crusade for democracy when he would of course order the Red Army to advance. This time seemed to have arrived when Stalin in 1948 threw off the mask of friendship and ordered West Berlin to be blockaded. But the crisis passed and what seemed inevitable did not take place. The only reason was Stalin belatedly realised that the United States alone possessed a stock pile of atomic weapons and prudently decided to postpone the use of force. As a consequence the Morgenthau Plan, the projected next step along the road to barbarism, was cancelled in order to enlist the aid of the German people for the defence of Europe.

Thus occured the first break in the chain reaction which had been proceeding without interruption for over three decades.

Another reason for optimism is that the invention of the atomic bomb has entirely transformed the conditions and prospects of warfare. The poet Rupert Brooke expressed the outlook to war of a generation bored by uneventful years of peace and prosperity when he wrote in 1914, “Now God be thanked who has matched us with His hour!” The mere existence of atomic weapons makes it impossible for anyone now to feel as Rupert Brooke felt when in a letter he wrote before setting out on the Dardanelles expedition, “It is too wonderful for belief: I had never imagined Fate could be so kind. I have never been so happy in my life, so pervasively happy! I suddenly realise that the ambition of my life has been—since I was two—to go on an expedition against Constantinople!”

The prospect of strutting in a victory parade through Constantinople or some other capital has ceased to be alluring now that it must be clouded with the knowledge that concurrently one’s own homeland might be being turned into a radio-active rubbish heap.

Finally, leaving out of account the changes brought about by the invention of nuclear weapons, the conditions of warfare with conventional weapons have reverted to conditions similar to those which existed in the 18th century. A modern army no longer consists of hordes of hastily-trained conscripts. The military strength of a country now consists of long-service soldiers trained in the use of complicated weapons, transport and equipment. Such troops will fight in accordance with the orders of their executive government: they do not need to be inflamed by mendacious hate-propaganda.

To intensive hate-propaganda can be traced all the unique features of the period labelled in this book “the advance to barbarism”—genocide, terror bombing, mass-deportations and war-crimes trials.

Now that the necessity no longer exists for rulers to employ hate-propaganda as a stimulus to sustain the martial spirit of their subjects, it appears reasonable to hope that the chain reaction which began in 1914 has come to an end and that a new period of history has commenced in which will be absent the characteristics which are the products of hate-propaganda.

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