Plain Words from America: A Letter to a German Professor (1917)

In Short

Written in 1916 and published in the Revue de Paris, this letter represents a definitive American rebuke of German war policy. The author responds to a German correspondent’s plea for sympathy, systematically refuting claims that American public opinion was engineered by British propaganda. Through a blend of political theory, eyewitness accounts, and moral philosophy, the text argues that the German state’s own actions—rather than external manipulation—created its global isolation. It remains a vital document for understanding the intellectual friction that eventually drew the United States into the First World War.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is defined by a slow, deliberate movement from personal courtesy to an uncompromising moral indictment. The author begins with a polite acknowledgment of the letters he has received from his German peer, validating the correspondent’s emotional attachment to his homeland while gently noting that their perspectives are fundamentally irreconcilable. He establishes a tone of "scientific" inquiry, promising to explain the formation of American sentiment with the same rigor he applies to his academic work, rather than resorting to the emotional outbursts he perceives in his counterpart.

As the letter progresses, the argument shifts from the nature of the press to the nature of the state. The author painstakingly distinguishes between the freedom of the American press and the heavily censored, government-directed media in Germany. He moves through the history of American-German relations, acknowledging the pre-war admiration for German music, universities, and industry, while simultaneously highlighting the growing discomfort with German militarism and the "bumptious" nature of the German officer class.

The heart of the argument centers on the culpability of the German government for the outbreak of the war. The author moves through a series of specific charges: the suppression of diplomatic documents between Berlin and Vienna, the refusal to consider mediation, and the invasion of Belgium. Each point is presented as a challenge to the correspondent’s belief that Germany is acting in self-defense. The author brings in the sinking of the Lusitania and the execution of Edith Cavell as evidence of a deeper, systemic moral failure. He dismisses the German defense of "military necessity" as a hallmark of barbarism, contrasting it with the perceived restraint of the Allied nations.

The story reaches its conclusion when the author shifts from analyzing the past to predicting the future. He argues that the German government has become an "incubus" on its own people, stifling their individual liberty and dragging their culture into the mire of international disgrace. The resolution is bleak: because the German people have failed to overthrow their military leaders, the author concludes that the safety of the world demands the total military defeat of the German state. He leaves the correspondent with a final, somber warning: that the true enemy of the German people is not the Allied powers, but the very government that demands their blind, unthinking loyalty.

How It Unfolds

The initial courtesy The author acknowledges receiving multiple letters and clippings from his German colleague, framing his delayed response as a sign of respect rather than discourtesy. He notes the correspondent’s obvious emotional distress, suggesting that this passion prevents the objective, scientific analysis of the war he intends to provide.

The press and truth The text shifts to an analysis of information flow, arguing that the American press is free from government control, unlike the heavily censored German media. The author contends that Americans are better positioned to discern the truth than Germans because they have access to a wider, unfettered range of international perspectives.

The pre-war relationship The author delineates the history of admiration for German arts and sciences that existed before 1914. He balances this praise against a long-standing suspicion of Prussian political philosophy, which he views as reactionary and dangerous to the development of the individual.

The record of events The focus turns to the war's origins, challenging the correspondent to explain why the crucial correspondence between Berlin and Vienna remains suppressed. The author asserts that the refusal to publish these documents is a tacit admission of Germany’s primary responsibility for triggering the conflict.

The final moral verdict The argument culminates in the conviction that the German government has committed atrocities that have alienated the neutral world. The author concludes that for Germany to regain its honor, it must undergo a total political transformation, necessitating, in the interim, its military defeat.

The People

The Author A professor of science at Columbia University, he embodies the "dispassionate" intellectual. He is determined to avoid the propaganda-fueled rhetoric he attributes to the German side. His objective is to explain, with clarity and cold logic, why the American public has turned against a nation he once admired. He serves as the voice of a detached, analytical observer who has reached a firm, moral conclusion.

The German Correspondent Though never appearing as a character in the room, his voice is present through the author’s references to his letters, clippings, and emotional appeals. He represents the "intellectual" German who, in the author's view, has been blinded by state-controlled education and nationalist fervor. He wants to convince the world of Germany's innocence, but he is hindered by his own government’s censorship and a refusal to acknowledge the moral implications of state actions.

The German Military Government The true antagonist of the piece, described as an "incubus" and a "monstrosity." It is the force that controls the press, hides documents, and orders acts such as the invasion of Belgium and the sinking of the Lusitania. It stands in the way of the German people, preventing them from seeing the truth and forcing them into a war that the author deems both avoidable and unjust.

In Its Own Voice

"Americans do not believe in the German doctrine that the press must be 'so far controlled as is requisite for the welfare of the community,' and hold that absolute freedom of speech is essential to true liberty."

The author explains the fundamental divide between American and German philosophies regarding the role of the state and the autonomy of the individual.

"The wrong--I speak openly, gentlemen--the wrong we have done Belgium will be righted when our military ends are accomplished."

The author quotes the German Chancellor to argue that Germany had officially, and damningly, admitted to its violation of international treaty obligations.

"Your greatest enemy is not the Russian, nor the French, nor the British Government."

The author concludes his argument by asserting that the German state, not the Allied powers, is the primary source of the German people’s ultimate ruin.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the incompatibility of state-worship with modern, individualistic democracy. The book explores how information—and, crucially, the lack of it—determines national morality. It questions whether a nation can remain "civilized" if it allows its government to monopolize truth and redefine atrocities as "military necessities." At its core, the text is an investigation into the nature of national responsibility: it argues that a people cannot divorce themselves from the crimes of their leaders if they continue to provide those leaders with their full, uncritical support. It is a plea for the German people to reclaim their individuality by rejecting the state’s demand for blind, totalizing obedience.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of rhetoric and the evolution of political dissent will find this work compelling. It serves as a stark reminder of how intellectual spheres are affected by total war. For those familiar with the history of the First World War, it provides a window into the specific arguments that defined the American moral position before the official entry into the conflict.

However, the reader should be prepared for the dense, polemical style of the period. The author’s tone is consistently formal and occasionally biting, reflecting the intense pressures of 1917. Some readers may find his assertions about "national character" and the inherent qualities of different peoples to be dated or problematic by contemporary standards, as these were common tropes of the time. Despite these period attitudes, the book remains a powerful exercise in logical argumentation. It stays with the reader as a testament to how even the most cultured and intellectual societies can be pulled into a cycle of totalizing conflict, and how difficult it is for individuals to maintain an independent, moral perspective once the machinery of state propaganda takes hold. It is a challenging, precise, and ultimately somber read that illuminates the fragility of international peace.