What Germany Thinks; Or, The War as Germans see it — Themes and Context

The Structure of a Documentary Dossier

The book’s thirteen chapters are arranged thematically rather than chronologically. After an opening chapter on the war’s causes, Smith moves through topics such as mobilization, the Social Democrats’ collapse, the “necessity knows no law” argument, atrocities, Belgian neutrality, and annexation propaganda. Each chapter is a collage of quotations, often from multiple German sources, with Smith’s transitions serving as brief analytical bridges. This structure mirrors the author’s stated aim: to present “the German side” without imposing a single narrative. Yet the arrangement itself is a form of argument—by clustering excerpts on, say, Belgian atrocities, Smith implicitly challenges the reader to weigh the evidence. The book’s index and table of contents further emphasize its reference-like quality, inviting selective reading.

Recurring Images: Whips, Avalanches, and Sleeping Peoples

Smith’s excerpts are rich with recurring metaphors. Austria’s ultimatum to Serbia is described as “a whip-lash across Serbia’s face,” an image that Smith notes “met with unstinted approval” in Germany. The war itself is an “avalanche” that a unified press might have stopped. German writers portray their own people as “a dreaming people” kept safe by vigilant leaders, while Belgians are depicted as lazy, cunning, and undisciplined—wearing “patent-leather shoes” in forts, fleeing without order. Smith lets these images accumulate without comment, allowing the reader to see how German propaganda constructed a moral hierarchy: the disciplined, watchful German versus the decadent, treacherous enemy. The repetition of such tropes across different sources reveals a coordinated rhetorical strategy.

Movement Between Scenes: From the Home Front to the Battlefield

The book shifts abruptly between settings: a Berlin newspaper office, a Belgian village after occupation, a lawyer’s legal brief, a soldier’s field letter. Smith does not smooth these transitions. In Chapter VIII, for instance, he moves from a German lawyer’s case against Belgian civilians to a knight of the Order of St. John describing unemployment and famine in Belgium, then to a soldier’s account of Belgian flight. This jump-cut technique creates a sense of simultaneity—the war experienced from multiple German perspectives at once. It also underscores the book’s documentary ethos: Smith is not constructing a single story but assembling raw materials. The reader must navigate these shifts, piecing together the larger picture from fragments that are often contradictory or self-serving.

The Role of the Editor: Selection as Argument

Smith’s editorial hand is visible in what he chooses to include and how he frames it. He introduces each excerpt with a brief contextual note—often a source’s title, author, and date—but rarely offers extended rebuttal. His most pointed interventions come in chapter openings, where he states a thesis (e.g., “Germany’s evident intention is the annexation of that part of Belgium where Flemish is spoken”) and then lets German texts support or complicate it. The effect is that of a prosecutor presenting evidence: the excerpts are exhibits, and the reader is the jury. Smith’s own voice remains measured, even understated, which lends his selections an air of objectivity. Yet the very act of gathering these particular passages—dwelling on atrocities, annexation, and hate literature—constitutes a powerful indictment.

Readers approaching What Germany Thinks should treat it as a primary source in its own right—a document of how one British observer assembled German wartime rhetoric for an English-speaking audience. The book rewards attention to its structure: the way Smith juxtaposes sources, the metaphors that recur across chapters, and the gaps between German claims and the evidence he presents. It is less a history than an archive, and its value lies in the voices it preserves.

There’s something achingly human in a 1915 book like What Germany Thinks—how ordinary people reshape horror into necessity, into righteousness. I found myself thinking about that long after closing it, especially when I came across Father Duffy's story — Key Ideas to Explore, another voice from that same fire, hoping, and clinging.