The Republican Stab-in-the-Back Myth
Michal Zapendowski ColumnistIn 1918, when Imperial Germany was teetering on the brink of military collapse facing a global alliance which included the United States, France, Britain, Italy, Japan and a dozen other nations, Germany's war hawks ceded control over the country and allowed left-wing pacifists to take power. The idea was to force the pacifists to sign the peace treaty, so they could be blamed for the humiliation of defeat.
Some months later, Gen. Erich Ludendorff, who had run the German war effort, was having lunch with British Gen. Neil Malcolm. The Englishman asked the German why he thought his country had lost the war. Ludendorff rattled off a bunch of excuses about the "failure of the home front," implying that a successful war effort had been sabotaged by domestic pacifists. "It sounds like you were stabbed in the back," Malcolm said, and the phrase stuck. The dolschtosslegende was born.
The German word dolschtosslegende literally means "the myth of the dagger stab." It refers to the collective belief, perpetuated by German nationalists and military men after World War I, that Germany had been "stabbed in the back" by pacifists, and that it could have won and avoided humiliation if only the war effort had been allowed to continue. The maneuver was an incredible propaganda victory. By the 1930s, most Germans believed their nation would have won the war, if only the pacifists at home had been silenced.
The reality, of course, was somewhat different. In 1916, in the midst of a bloody stalemate, Germany had tried to turn around its military fortunes by installing the energetic young Ludendorff into a position of unprecedented authority, to direct the nation in a total war effort. The monarchy and parliament remained in operation, but in reality all decision-making was ceded to Ludendorff and his fellow officers. These generals were believed to be men of incredible talent, who could work a miracle and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
And at first, it worked. The success of the German military turnaround in 1917-1918 makes the victories of the current "surge" in Iraq pale in comparison. In 1918, the Russian monarchy was overthrown, the Russian war effort fell apart, and German troops marched deep into the Russian heartland as they occupied territory that exceeded the size of Germany itself.
However, the war on the western front continued to be a grueling stalemate. The prospect of a genius-General snatching victory was a mirage. By 1918, the high command knew that a perpetual war effort was unsustainable, and the only question left was how to blame the consequences of defeat on somebody else.
We see that history repeats itself even today. Eight years later and none the wiser, Republicans in the United States are attempting to cede America's foreign policy to an energetic and talented Gen. David Petraeus. Like the fans of a last-ditch war effort in early 20th century Germany, they are arguing that during a time of war, decisions should be made "by the generals with blood on their boots" (a direct quote from GOP presidential candidate Mike Huckabee), not by the nation's elected representatives.
Like Ludendorff before him, Petraeus is supposed to be a genius, assigned to work a miracle. The war effort he commands, while not total in scope (since the public would never support a draft), is nevertheless supposed to be unbreakable and unrelenting. Sen. John McCain, who will lead the GOP into the November election, has said that U.S. troops could remain in Iraq for 100 years. "We will never admit defeat," say the Republicans - "and anyone who does is responsible for the consequences."
Their vision of imminent military victory either doesn't accept reality, or - like Ludendorff's dolschtosslegende - it is a cynical political move, meant to make their political opponents look like back-stabbing traitors.
The United States has extricated itself from painful military stalemates in the past - from Vietnam in the ‘70s, and Korea in the ‘50s. In Korea, it was General Douglas MacArthur who became the betrayed hero of the "stab-in-the back" theory. MacArthur had a chest full of medals, was as able a commander as Petraeus or Ludendorff, and he argued America could win the Korean War by using nuclear bombs against the population of China. When President Harry Truman sensibly relieved MacArthur of his post, the general was greeted like a betrayed hero back at home. The U.S. eventually withdrew from Korea without having broken the stalemate, and a powerful dolschtosslegende was created.
Soon enough, the nation was bogged down in the mud of Vietnam. When that stalemate finally ended after roughly a decade of warfare, war hawks blamed the peace movement for stabbing America in the back. Ambitious young politicians such as Dick Cheney, who was serving in the Nixon administration at the time, became proponents of this view. It wasn't that American guns and bombs were incapable of winning the conflict - it was that the peace-loving hippies and the sensationalist media back at home wouldn't let them.
The comparison between Germany in 1918 and the United States today is not meant to suggest a direct similarity, or that the United States is headed in the same direction as Germany was in the 1930s, or anything equally ridiculous. It is merely meant to suggest that great nations, when confronted by the limits of their military power, tend to react in the same way - with disbelief.
A dolschtosslegende almost always results when a great power finds itself embroiled in a military stalemate. No one would have believed a "stab-in-the back" myth in Germany in 1945, when foreign troops were marching down the streets of wrecked German cities. But in 1918, the myth was believable. The troops had not been defeated in the field; they were called home and marched back in good order.
This makes World War I in Germany similar to Korea and Vietnam in the United States. Surrender was not the result of military defeats; it was the result of a bloody stalemate with no end. This left open the possibility that the war "could have been won," if only the war effort had been allowed to continue.
There may be good reasons to keep U.S. forces in Iraq. Anti-genocide campaigners are calling for a United Nations intervention in Darfur, but the withdrawal of U.S. troops from Iraq may set the stage for even greater violence. The central issues of contention between the Sunnis, the Shi’a and the Kurds over who will govern and over what territory are still unresolved. The Kurds and Arabs both want control of Kirkuk and its valuable oil fields. The Shi’a and the Sunni both want Baghdad, and they have been fighting for the metropolis neighborhood by neighborhood. The Sunnis want a Sunni government in Iraq, the Shi’a want a Shi’a government, and they seem unwilling to consider the possibility of dividing the country peacefully and allowing one another's elected representatives to govern over their own people. The United States has done nothing to resolve these territorial issues, beyond vague phrases about preserving Iraq's "national unity."
However, a change in strategy to address these territorial issues - or the possibility that a premature withdrawal will result in genocide - are not the arguments the Republicans are making in Congress, and on the opinions pages of newspapers. Instead, they are talking about "generals with blood on their boots," about how we are "building momentum towards victory." McCain accuses the Democrats of wanting to "wave the white flag of surrender." In other words, what we have here is another dolschtosslegende, and a smart public won't buy into it.
