Berlin

Upon learning of London’s declaration of war, Wile raged over Britain’s “betrayal” of his personal friendship with the English people and Germany’s historic ties to the island nation. This was the thanks that the Germans got for helping save the Britons’ bacon at Waterloo, he fumed. Many Berliners shared the kaiser’s shock and rage over Britain’s decision to fight. On August 5 a menacing crowd surrounded the Hotel Adlon, where some British journalists were staying. Another angry mob gathered outside the British embassy and pelted the building with stones. America’s Ambassador Gerard became so concerned for the safety of his British counterpart, Sir Edward Goschen, that he drove over to the British compound and offered him sanctuary in the American diplomatic residence. Goschen declined the offer and managed to slip unharmed from the city on the following day. In the meantime, Gerard himself ran into trouble upon leaving the British embassy. As he drove away in his open car a man leaped on the running board and spat on him. Infuriated, Gerard jumped out of the car and chased down his assailant. When the man learned that he had assaulted the American ambassador, rather than the representative of perfidious Albion, he apologized profusely.

The German government made no apologies for rounding up British and French citizens in Berlin and interning them in Spandau Fortress. At the opening of hostilities, Berlin’s military command sent out an appeal to the citizenry asking for help in ferreting out spies and rendering “such dangerous people harmless.” This was an open invitation to vigilantism, and the results were immediately visible in attacks on foreigners and people who looked foreign. Because she had black hair and exotic features, the Danish-born actress Asta Nielsen was mistaken for a Russian and accosted by a mob. She might have been badly injured had not one of her attackers suddenly recognized her and called off the assault. But she was advised to leave the scene immediately because, as her savior put it, “the people have completely lost their senses.”

The kaiser’s first official act after war began was to summon members of the Reichstag to the Royal Palace for a kind of pep rally. Here he repeated the phrase: “I no longer acknowledge parties; I know only Germans.” While this could be taken as a sign that Wile was anxious to cooperate with all his subjects regardless of party affiliation, he remained deeply suspicious of the SPD, whose leaders were earmarked for immediate arrest if they resisted the war effort.

In the event, the government had no need to arrest the Socialists. On the following day they joined with the other parties in voting for war credits. The party leaders justified this decision on the grounds that Germany was threatened by reactionary Russia, a greater menace to world progress than their own government. Yet the move also reflected a strong desire to be part of the national consensus at a time of crisis, as well as an undercurrent of patriotism that had long been present in German socialism. In voting to support the war the German Socialists were no different from their counterparts elsewhere in Europe, whose support for their governments’ call to arms made a mockery of the Marxist ideal of international proletarian brotherhood. Those German Socialists who wished to remain faithful to the internationalist credo—most notably Karl Liebknecht, Rosa Luxemburg, and Clara Zetkin—were quickly shunted aside. In despair over her party’s direction, Luxemburg locked herself in her apartment and wept uncontrollably.

The Socialists’ willingness to back the war effort was part of a broader agreement by the major parties and interest groups to suspend their partisan campaigns for the duration of the war. Known as the Burgfrieden—“Truce of the Castle”—this arrangement evoked the hallowed tradition whereby the residents of a castle pulled together during a time of siege. In reality, the external threat often accentuated internal differences. Although domestic discord would also be the story in Germany once the pressures of war mounted, the civil truce was touted as another dimension of the Spirit of 1914—added proof that Germany really was, at long last, a unified nation.

For Berlin the outbreak of war brought the proclamation of a mini-Burgfrieden and the opportunity to show that the city had overcome all the internal divisions that had plagued it since 1871. Having been a microcosm of German divisiveness, Berlin would, it was declared, become a model of German unity. Officials in the capital also saw the war as a chance to break down some of the hostility toward their city on the part of non-Berliners. As mayor Wermuth declared on August 3: “Berlin, the Reich capital, must and will take the lead in terms of discipline and willingness for sacrifice.”