# The New Republic/Volume 1/Number 1/Has German Strategy Failed?

Has German Strategy Failed?
AT the close of the third month of the Great War, a month in which all things considered German fortunes have perceptibly waned, it is natural that the question should be raised: Has German strategy failed? Has the strategy of the Allies proved superior?
In the examination of this question it is necessary first of all to indicate that since German armies are still in France, Belgium and Poland, the failure has at most been relative, not absolute, conceivably temporary, certainly not yet to be reckoned permanent. But accepting this qualification, what is to be said of the methods of the great opponents, measured by present achievement?
First of all it is necessary to lay down the conditions of the colossal war game. Bernhardi himself has done this. Thus he wrote: "If Germany is involved in war, she need not recoil before the numerical superiority of her enemies. But so far as human nature is able to tell, she can only rely on being successful if she is absolutely determined to break the superiority of her enemies by a victory over one or the other of them before their total strength can come into action."
In other words, the German problem was to crush France before Russia could come up, or Russia before both France and England had their full strength in the field. Conversely, France, Russia and England were bound to strive to escape defeat in detail, until all three were in full strength.
There is a temptation now to argue that since Germany failed in both her great offensive thrusts, one at Paris, the other at Warsaw, while she has been inexpugnable on the defensive, it would have been wiser to assume the defensive at the outset. On this point Bernhardi is again illuminating. He said: "The defense as a form of fighting is stronger than the attack, but in the conduct of war as a whole, the offensive is by far superior to the defensive, especially in modern warfare." He meant, of course, that Germany, to win the war, must defeat her foes in detail, otherwise industrial paralysis might compel surrender while her frontiers were still unforced, since with England against her, the control of the sea would be lost, and with Russia and France standing with England the ultimate advantage of numbers would also be against her.
Germany was then bound to undertake the offensive. It remained for her general staff to select a method of crushing France before Russia came up. They chose the drive through Belgium. This brought both the British and Belgian armies into the field. Both contributed to German defeat. It may then be argued that it was a mistaken course to follow. But three months after the opening of the war, despite great effort, the Germans have not made a breach in the barrier forts of France.
It seems fair to say, then, that in deciding to go through Belgium, German strategy chose wisely, always viewing the question from the military, not the moral aspect. But having passed through Belgium and penetrated deeply into France, the Germans detached several army corps and sent them to the east before the decisive battle. In something the same situation Frederick the Great sacrificed Berlin and won a great battle which regained his capital. Would William II. have been wiser to have followed the example of his great predeccessor?
The point is debatable. British and French commentators insist that the Germans made a grave mistake. But it would be more conclusive to hear what the Russians have to say. Bear in mind that in the last week in August Russian armies were rushing on toward the Vistula, having beaten German armies in East Prussia, and were on the point of routing the whole Austrian military power in Galicia and Poland. Had they been permitted to continue their advance, they were bound to be in Silesia and Posen shortly. Already it was doubtful whether any success then possible in France could counterbalance the great disaster impending in the east.
Accordingly Hindenburg was sent east, where he promptly won the greatest German victory of the war, destroyed one Russian army, and checked the advance to Berlin for two months and more. Again German strategy seems to be beyond just criticism on any available evidence.
Defeated at the Marne and compelled to retire to the Aisne, the Germans promptly changed their plans and endeavored to do in Poland what they had attempted in France. Was this a sound strategical undertaking? Again Bernhardi's declaration stands. It was no longer possible to crush France, but England's million was not yet available, the Allies in the west were not yet in the field in full strength, Russia might conceivably be crushed. Indeed, Hindenburg's great victory held out glowing promise of such a triumph. Were it achieved, German position in France still made a resumption of the advance to Paris almost certainly possible. Meanwhile there was every present indication that if Austria were not promptly relieved, her whole field armies would be destroyed.
In this case, too, then, Germany strategy seems to have taken the wisest course. So far as it is now possible to judge, it failed at least as completely as in France. Was this the final evidence of the superiority of allied strategy? The question is plainly debatable, but it hardly seems conclusive to dispose of it thus.
It is not fairer to say that German strategy made the best of the conditions imposed upon it by German diplomacy? Thanks to German diplomacy, the German General Staff was compelled to face France, Russia and England in arms. Belgian participation was perhaps the consequence of military ​action. Given this condition, it did its best, did all and the only things possible.
On the other hand, the Allies, once they were all in the campaign, were bound to have the advantage if they could escape immediate ruin. Their strategy was just as logically imposed upon them as the German upon the Kaiser. All things considered, they played it, if not so brilliantly, with sufficient skill. Looking back now it is possible to see real and remarkable coordination. When Germany struck at France, the French and British retired, but the Russians drove over into East Prussia and compelled the Germans to weaken their offensive in France. When the Germans invaded Poland, it was the Russians who retired, the French and British who stormed up into Flanders.
In sum, looking back over three months of war, what seems impressive is not any real or apparent failure of German strategy, but the unexpected adequacy of Allied strategy. Given the advantage of time, the eventual superiority of numbers, the immediate control of the sea, the Allies could only be defeated decisively in the opening weeks of the war, if they could be brought to battle under exactly the conditions the Germans desired. But German strategy could not impose these conditions upon the Allies, because German resources were not large enough; the statesmen had set a task for the soldier beyond his strength. Napoleon with supreme genius failed at the same task in 1814 in his most splendid campaign. He wrote: "When Napoleon, who so often and so brilliantly had beaten superior numbers with weaker bodies, wanted to enforce victory with an army so much weaker than those of his enemies that even the most famous local victories could no longer change the proportionate numbers, he succumbed, and he was bound to succumb."
Napoleon's failure was absolute, Germany's remains relative. But to argue from failure that the attempt was foolish, even to ascribe superior genius to Allied strategy, is to go beyond the evidence. In 1914 the problem of the Kaiser's generals was that of Napoleon in 1814. In the earlier instance the nearness of success has for all time justified the strategy. The same is fairly to be said of the later experiment, and in neither case was there any conceivable alternative.
Frank H. Simonds.