Sentinels On The River Banks

Sentinels on the river banks The Norman Transcript October 06, 2007 01:23 am — For The Transcript Geographers have much to teach us -- provided we discipline ourselves to listen. Among other things they show us the role that rivers have played in human history. Think of the Thames, the Rhine, the Vistula, the Tigris and Euphrates, the Nile and the Tiber among innumerable others. In various ways these have shaped the course of economic, social, political and military affairs as far back as we have records. And ones we rarely think about, like the Marne, carry instructive lessons as well as provoke sobering reflection. Most of the rivers of France rise in the eastern part of the country and flow west into the Atlantic. The major exception is the Rhone, forming in the Alps and emptying into the Mediterranean. Less formidable is the Marne which comes from the east and joins the Seine in Paris. Although modest in size, the Marne provokes a number of questions for those of us forever struggling to understand why things happen the way they do and what they mean. There is one especially puzzling question. In World War I when Paris was threatened, why did the French make such a valiant and successful stand in the First Battle of the Marne; and why in World War II did they fail to do so? In World War I there were two critical battles on the Marne -- 1914 at the beginning of the war and 1918 at the end. The First Battle of the Marne stands as one of the momentous battles in world history. In a sense it should not have happened, and since it did, the Germans should have won it. The reasons are provocative. For years the Germans had been considering how to invade and defeat France. Their principal design had been worked out by General Alfred von Schlieffen, chief of the General Staff. Other generals wanted to strike Russia first, then destroy France. The "Schlieffen Plan" called for a quick destructive blow against France first, then an assault on Russia. The Germans while violating the neutrality of Belgium and the Netherlands would swing like a scythe through western France, encircle Paris and crush the French. General von Schlieffen, a graduate of the Berlin War College, polished his plan for 10 years. It should have worked; unfortunately for the Germans, it failed. "Why" is often a maddeningly difficult question; answers can be vague and controversial. The "why" of history is especially fugitive. In the case of the First Battle of the Marne we have some clear reasons for success and failure, some that are shadowy and some that are mere conjecture. Changes in leadership partly explain what happened. Von Schlieffen's successor was Helmuth von Moltke, who was chief of staff during the Marne offensive. We should not confuse him with his talented uncle, who earlier bore the same name and achieved the same rank. The younger Moltke modified the Schlieffen Plan and this was partly responsible for the collapse of the German advance. When German patrols were within 15 miles of Paris the army was ordered to drive to the south, thereby exposing their flank. This permitted a resourceful and successful counter attack by the French under General Joseph Joffre. Along with French courage, that maneuver saved Paris and much of France. Although courage plays a major role in the history of warfare, it can rarely be adequately explained and its consequences can never be predicted. Excessive optimism deceived the Germans and concern for Russia led them to divert substantial forces from the German Marne Front to the Russian Front. Misjudgment and fear contributed to the chaos, waste and confusion. One tragic outcome of all this was the bogging down of the Marne offensive which then evolved into four years of gruesome trench warfare. The Germans were stopped; France won the First Battle of the Marne. Clearly changes can be major or minor, gradual or instantaneous, apparent or subtle, but the wise person knows they are inevitable in everything. Twenty-six years -- between 1914 and 1940 -- was sufficient time to revamp Europe. Certainly the German Army changed in those years. It was mechanized and armed with weapons like the 88 mm cannon whose deadly muzzle velocity and accuracy were terrifying. The French 75

mm cannon helped stop the Germans in 1914; the 88 helped reduce the French to impotence in 1940. Not only were weapons improved but tanks and sophisticated tactics were developed. The Luftwaffe was superior and destroyed the French Air Force in 1940. The Kaiser in 1914, impaired by his social class conditioning and physical deformity was mercurial; Hitler by contrast was psychotic, but his resolve to destroy his enemies was relentless. With the German assault on France in 1940, the Marne offered no weighty obstacle to the Wehrmacht. There were serious governmental changes during these interwar years. The French government was much more stable in 1914 than in 1940. By this latter date France was politically disorganizes, fraught with dissension. In 1940, Germany was an absolute authoritarian state; France was conflict ridden suffering from contending political factions, especially from the communists and fascists. French weakness permitted the advancing Wehrmacht simply to obliterate the remnants of the Third Republic. In World War I the Marne became a symbol of patriotism and determination; in World War II it was just another river for the Germans to cross. From the red-tinged Tiber to the bloodstained Mekong and the crimson Marne we should have suffered enough to learn the senselessness of war. More than 150 years have passed since Carl von Clausewitz published his somber study "On War." In a concluding essay in the 1968 edition Anatol Rapaport nails down the insanity of war which is little more than government or special interest sponsored murder. Observed this mathematical minded social philosopher, "the political philosophy of war is bankrupt. It continues as a vestige. Just as monarchs clung to the doctrine of Divine Right of Kings ... so ... struggle for power is the prime mover of politics...." A few decades ago we destroyed hundreds of villages and thousands of innocent people in them to "save" the Vietnamese and ourselves from communism. Do we now have to extend that slaughter to save ourselves from the "evils" of Islam so we can continue our waste of petroleum and accumulate massive profits in the process? Is our understanding so limited, imagination so flaccid, rational capacity so restricted and humane sentiments so nebulous that killing is our only solution for the never-ending human quandaries? And since so many have suffered, bled and died on the banks of the Rhine, the Volturno, the Mekong, the Yalu and so many other rivers, what would the dead have to say, if given the chance, about our seemingly uncontrolled passion for aggression and violence? Lloyd Williams is a retired educator. His column runs monthly in The Transcript. Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.