Review: Books: History: Trench fever: Norman Stone has taken the art of
compression too far, says Piers Brendon: World War One: A Short History
by Norman Stone 187pp, Allen Lane, pounds 16.99
PIERS BRENDON, The Guardian – United Kingdom
Published: Jul 07, 2007
Why a short history of the first world war? Norman Stone, who produced
a classic account of the eastern front in 1975 and could now give an
equally substantial picture of the entire conflict, does not answer
this question. He might have claimed that he has come up with an
antidote to the Armageddon industry, a hand-crafted cameo rather than a
canvas manufactured on the scale of Big Bertha. Instead he lets this
bonsai volume, which contains a few sketchy footnotes and an
impressionistic bibliography, speak for itself. It gives an uncertain
sound.
First, the style is distinctly odd. Sentences like this abound: "If the
war were not speedily ended, Germany would plunge." Words are wrongly
used: "recoup" when the sense demands either "recuperate" or "regroup".
Sometimes it seems as if Stone originally wrote the book in Turkish,
which, given his linguistic virtuosity, is not impossible. Certainly it
shows signs of haste, being marred by repetition and misquotation. For
example, Stone cites the exclamation of "a senior staff officer" on
seeing Passchendaele – "Did we send men into that?" – whereas what
General Kiggell actually said was: "Good God, did we really send men to
fight in that?"
Second, the book’s content is abbreviated to the point of distortion.
Stone explains the causes of the war in extraordinarily simplistic
terms. In 1895 Max Weber gave a lecture saying that Britain was rich
because it had an empire guarded by a great navy and that Germany must
have the same. The audience reacted with rapture to this "gibberish".
So the Reich built warships in "an obvious piece of blackmail" to which
the British were forced to respond. Meanwhile, Russia was modernising
so fast that it posed a nightmarish threat to Germany in a two-front
war. Chancellor Bethmann Hollweg thus prepared for hostilities, and
"the plot" went ahead when "the inevitable accident" of the Archduke
Franz Ferdinand’s murder took place. An Austro-Hungarian diplomat
called this "a gift from Mars" and the assassin himself, Gavrilo
Princip, said that if he had not done it, the Germans would have found
another excuse.
Stone hardly touches on more complex aspects of this question: the
interlocking alliances, the economic rivalries, the escalating crises,
the growth of a European "war mentality". And on other matters he is
equally open to criticism. It is not true to say that "if troops are
well-led, they do not fall ill". It is mealy-mouthed to talk of
Armenian "massacres" when they amounted to genocide. It is misleading
to say that the French "abandoned" Fort Douaumont; Petain described it
as the cornerstone of Verdun’s defence and it was lost as the result of
a muddle.
Yet, despite all this, Stone’s miniature has much to recommend it. He
is cogent and pungent, describing the Zimmermann telegram as "Germany’s
suicide note, written in farce". He is unfashionably (but correctly)
disparaging about Haig, said to be the best Scottish general because he
killed the most Englishmen. And he has a marvellous eye for detail. The
Austro-Hungarians were so confident before Brusilov’s offensive that
some of their dug-outs had glass windows; the Roumanians were so unused
to war that initially junior officers had to be ordered not to use
eye-shadow.
Such anecdotes bear testimony to a formidable erudition, here confined
by its format. Inside this little book there is a big book struggling
to get out.
Piers Brendon’s next book is The Decline and Fall of the British Empire
(Cape). To order World War One for pounds 15.99 with free UK p&p call
Guardian book service on 0870 836 0875 or go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop