Germany and the Next War — Themes and Context

The Author's Rhetorical Stance

Bernhardi writes from a self-consciously nationalistic position, declaring that he records his convictions “out of the fulness of my German heart.” He addresses the reader directly, aiming to “rouse the national feeling” and “strengthen the national purpose.” This is not a dispassionate analysis but a call to action. The author frequently contrasts the nation’s will with the government’s caution, as when he notes that public opinion favored “asserting ourselves” but did not understand the dangers of a bold policy. He also criticizes the Reichstag for “haggling about war contributions,” a phrase that links contemporary parliamentary debates to medieval precedents. Such rhetorical moves reveal Bernhardi’s impatience with democratic deliberation and his preference for decisive, militaristic leadership.

War as Biological and Moral Imperative

The chapter titles themselves—such as “The Right to Make War” and “The Duty to Make War”—indicate Bernhardi’s central thesis: war is not merely permissible but obligatory. He grounds this argument in a quasi-Darwinian framework, claiming a “biological necessity of war” and a “duty of self-assertion.” The language is stark: war is described as a “moral obligation” with “beneficent results,” while peace aspirations are labeled “destructive” and “immoral.” Bernhardi explicitly rejects arbitration and international law as utopian, arguing that a state must pursue its interests through force. This section relies on sweeping assertions rather than empirical evidence, treating war as an eternal, natural condition rather than a contingent political choice.

Geopolitical Calculations and Enemy Portrayals

In his strategic analysis, Bernhardi assesses potential adversaries with a mixture of tactical detail and national stereotyping. Regarding England, he speculates on the likelihood of a naval attack aimed at destroying German “fleet and great commercial centres,” and questions the English army’s capacity for offensive action, citing its performance in South Africa and maneuvers in Ireland. Russia is portrayed as a vast empire whose population lacks political education and cannot grasp foreign policy; Bernhardi writes that “any grasp of the problems of a foreign policy seems quite out of the question” among Russian peasants. Such characterizations serve to diminish the perceived threat from these powers while reinforcing Germany’s supposed cultural and military superiority.

Structure and Argumentative Method

The book’s structure is methodical: a preface outlining the crisis, followed by chapters that move from abstract principles to concrete scenarios. Bernhardi frequently uses rhetorical questions and conditional statements (“Should Russia… launch out into an offensive war…”) to frame hypotheticals as likely outcomes. He also employs historical analogies, such as comparing the Reichstag’s fiscal caution to medieval Regensburg. The argument is cumulative, building from the right to war to the duty to war, then to specific enemies and strategies. Notably, the excerpts show little engagement with opposing viewpoints; Bernhardi presents his claims as self-evident truths. The tone remains consistently urgent, with phrases like “we have reached a crisis” and “it is necessary to be absolutely clear” reinforcing the sense of imminent decision.

Readers should approach Germany and the Next War as a primary document of pre-World War I militarist thought, not as a balanced strategic study. Bernhardi’s arguments reveal the assumptions—biological determinism, national destiny, contempt for democratic processes—that shaped German expansionist ideology. The book’s value lies less in its predictions than in its unvarnished expression of a worldview that made war seem not only inevitable but desirable.

Sometimes I think about General von Bernhardi’s certainty, how he called war a “biological necessity” with such grave confidence. It makes me wonder about the quiet assumptions underneath any grand theory. Around that same era, I found myself rereading A History of Sea Power — A Closer Reading, and I kept noticing how the sea, too, was simply taken for granted as a field for ambition. Strange how those old certainties fade. We’re left just turning pages, gently.