By MICHAEL KAZIN APRIL 6, 2017, New York Times; see also
John Brown, "Janus-Faced Public Diplomacy: Creel and Lippmann
During the Great War."
Image from article, with caption: Army recruits filled a street in New York
in April 1917 soon after President Woodrow Wilson declared war on Germany
One hundred years ago today, Congress voted to enter what was then the largest and
bloodiest war in history. Four days earlier, President Woodrow Wilson had sought to
unite a sharply divided populace with a stirring claim that the nation “is privileged to
spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness
and the peace which she has treasured.” The war lasted only another year and a half,
but in that time, an astounding 117,000 American soldiers were killed and 202,000
wounded.
Still, most Americans know little about why the United States fought in World
War I, or why it mattered. The “Great War” that tore apart Europe and the Middle
East and took the lives of over 17 million people worldwide lacks the high drama and
moral gravity of the Civil War and World War II, in which the very survival of the
nation seemed at stake.
World War I is less easy to explain. America intervened nearly three years after
it began, and the “doughboys,” as our troops were called, engaged in serious combat
for only a few months. More Americans in uniform died away from the battlefield —
thousands from the Spanish flu — than with weapons in hand. After victory was
achieved, Wilson’s audacious hope of making a peace that would advance democracy
and national self-determination blew up in his face when the Senate refused to ratify
the treaty he had signed at the Palace of Versailles.
But attention should be paid. America’s decision to join the Allies was a turning
point in world history. It altered the fortunes of the war and the course of the 20th
century — and not necessarily for the better. Its entry most likely foreclosed the
possibility of a negotiated peace among belligerent powers that were exhausted from
years mired in trench warfare.
Although the American Expeditionary Force did not engage in combat for long,
the looming threat of several million fresh troops led German generals to launch a
last, desperate series of offensives. When that campaign collapsed, Germany’s defeat
was inevitable.
How would the war have ended if America had not intervened? The carnage might
have continued for another year or two until citizens in the warring nations, who
were already protesting the endless sacrifices required, forced their leaders to reach
a settlement. If the Allies, led by France and Britain, had not won a total victory,
there would have been no punitive peace treaty like that completed at Versailles, no
stab-in-the-back allegations by resentful Germans, and thus no rise, much less
triumph, of Hitler and the Nazis. The next world war, with its 50 million deaths,
would probably not have occurred.
The foes of militarism in the United States had tried to prevent such horrors.
Since the war began, feminists and socialists had worked closely with progressive
members of Congress from the agrarian South and the urban Midwest to keep
America out. They mounted street demonstrations, attracted prominent leaders
from the labor and suffrage movements, and ran antiwar candidates for local and
federal office. They also gained the support of Henry Ford, who chartered a ship full
of activists who crossed the Atlantic to plead with the heads of neutral nations to
broker a peace settlement.
They may even have had a majority of Americans on their side. In the final
weeks before Congress declared war, anti-militarists demanded a national
referendum on the question, confident voters would recoil from fighting and paying
the bills so that one group of European powers could vanquish another.
Once the United States did enter the fray, Wilson, with the aid of the courts,
prosecuted opponents of the war who refused to fall in line. Under the Espionage
and Sedition Acts, thousands were arrested for such “crimes” as giving speeches
against the draft and calling the Army “a God damned legalized murder machine.”
The intervention led to big changes in America, as well as the world. It began
the creation of a political order most citizens now take for granted, even as some
protest against it: a state equipped to fight war after war abroad while keeping a
close watch on allegedly subversive activities at home.
The identity of the nation’s enemies has changed often over the past century.
But at least until Donald Trump took office, the larger aim of American foreign
policy under both liberal and conservative presidents had remained much the same:
to make the world “safe for democracy,” as our leaders define it. To achieve that
purpose required another innovation of World War I: a military-industrial
establishment funded, then partly and now completely, by income taxes.
For all that, the war is largely forgotten in the United States. Combatants in
World War II and Vietnam are memorialized in popular sites on the National Mall,
but the men who fought and died in the Great War have no such honor (though there
is a small memorial specific to soldiers from Washington, and a small national
monument is in the planning stages).
Alone among the former belligerent nations, the United States observes a
holiday on the anniversary of the Armistice — Veterans Day — that makes no explicit
reference to the conflict itself. The centennial of the declaration of war is a good time
to remember how much the decision to enter it mattered.
Michael Kazin is the author of “War Against War: The American Fight for Peace, 1914
1918,” a professor of history at Georgetown and the editor of Dissent.