Jeremy Paxman's War

It’s only January and I must confess that war memorial weariness is already in danger of overtaking me, so heaven knows what I’ll be like come August.  Nevertheless, I did have some positive anticipation for Jeremy Paxman’s new series on the outbreak of the war, telling it from the British perspective, and I wasn’t disappointed.  In an age where many television documentary presenters are often a little anaemic and underwhelming on the small screen, Paxman somehow bursts through the medium with which he is so familiar, bringing his melancholy mien and authoritative tones to burnish his own telling of the story with some elan. 

Paxman’s documentary was imbued with a strong narrative drive, and the rather worn outlines of this history were somehow brought clearly into focus once again.  Amongst the more familiar aspects, Paxman gave us less well known stories too – the visit by Foreign Secretary Edward Grey, the bird-watcher of Fallodon, to the bird house at London Zoo two days before war was declared; the tears of Britain’s leaders; the early exploits of Boy Scouts on the south coast, given days off school after a night of watching for Germans; the tale of the first German spy, Karl Lody *; and the abominably self-serving, yet hugely successful, travelling recruitment show of Horatio Bottomley.  These were interspersed with some often excellently researched original footage and a carefully assembled picture of a Britain going to war which also challenged some received notions.  Foremost among these, perhaps, was the effort made by Paxman and his producers to show us that the war was not simply welcomed by a jingoistic public.  Its reception was far more nuanced, and the expectation of war was a bitter one for many even before it began.

Of course there are quibbles with the programme, not least the odd determination of producers and editors to intersperse archive footage and Paxman’s presentation with jarring modern images of express trains and 21^st century city life.  I know it’s difficult to find a continuous stream of archive film, but the modern shots seem lazy and irrelevant.  But this is a small quibble in a programme that also gave us an interview with a 105 year old lady who remembered the bombing of Hartlepool, and the newly double barrelled Julian Kitchener-Fellowes on his distinguished ancestor, Lord Kitchener.

Jeremy Paxman has managed to set a high standard in this, 2014’s first substantive documentary on the outbreak of the modern world’s watershed conflict, although even as he described the reactions of the politicians to the oncoming storm in that distant summer, I couldn’t help find myself wondering how the Great Inquisitor might have interviewed them about their terrors and decisions.  With a little mercy, I hope.

* A brief history of the German spy Karl Lody is here at Rupert Colley's "History in an Hour' website.

World War One Revisited

In the centenary year of the start of World War One we have already not been wanting in commentary, controversy and analysis of this watershed catastrophe.  Education Secretary Michael Gove kicked it off with a typically broad-brush and poorly researched article in the Daily Mail.  Gove is no historian, and has no historical credentials, but he did at least put the war on the front page for a while, even if his methodology was roundly criticised by Cambridge Regius Professor of History Richard Evans.  It is also true that there are plenty of myths surrounding the war which could do with a bit of bulldozing, a process that has been going on now for over a decade.

Television historian Dan Snow has written a useful and illuminating guide to ten of the most egregious World War One myths, and why they should be consigned to Tortsky's dustbin of history, on the BBC News site.

The debunking was given popular impetus some years ago with the publication of Gordon Corrigan's book, "Mud, Blood and Poppycock", which that admirable educator and historian John D Clare summarises in a series of well chosen extracts from the book here.

The inventor of the phrase "Lions Led by Donkeys", intended to raise up the British soldier over his incompetent leaders, was historian (and later Tory MP) Alan Clark.  No stranger to controversy, Clark originally attributed the phrase to German general von Falkenhayn, but never produced his evidence and later - apparently - admitted he had made it up for his book, "The Donkeys".  His trenchant view of the generals, however, didn't waver and he wrote a further article condemning Haig in particular, in 1998, which can be found here.

There are plenty of other links - pro and anti Haig and the generals - on John D Clare's website here, while the causes of the war have been subject to just as close a scrutiny as its consequences and conduct.  Max Hastings, Christopher Clark and Margaret MacMillan are three well known historians who waded into print on the subject of causes in their different, and each very readable, books.  It is probably Clark's which achieved most praise from the historical community, but Hastings and MacMillan were also well received.  For those who perhaps don't have time - doubtless because of other reading commitments - to wade through all three of these books, a useful summary article from the History Today blog about the different approaches to understanding the causes of World War One is here.

All in all, 2014 is clearly going to mark a tidal wave of views, articles and books on its notable centenary.  But this is just a taster of 2015, which is after all the centenary of some of World War 1's most notable battles, the bicentenary of Waterloo (which never properly received a centenary commemoration owing to the little matter of World War 1), the 600th anniversary of Agincourt, and the 800th anniversary of Magna Carta.  Oh, and the Sutton Grammar School CCF is 100 years old, and I'm 50.  I can hardly wait.