From the moment Germany sought an armistice in November 1918, total disbelief amongst the populace ensued at how the Imperial Reich could have been defeated. For many, the answer lay outside of military reality and was instead deeply rooted in conspiracy: that at the decisive hour, the German army had been betrayed at home, with the betrayal having been led by Jews and socialists. The myth would prove impossible for the fledgling democratic republic to shake off, and the Nazis would subsequently make it part of their official history. How did it emerge and why did it prove so persuasive?

James Russell explains.

A 1924 cartoon showing the leaders Philipp Scheidemann and Matthias Erzberger as stabbing the German army in the back. Available here.

The Roots of the Stab-in-the-Back

The ‘stab-in-the-back’ myth can be first traced to a growing wartime notion that Germany’s war effort was being weakened by strikers and shirkers. These arguments were not unique to Germany: Allied cartoons, for example, often accused strikers of weakening the nation’s war effort.

However, in Germany these began to take overtly political and racialist undertones, often encouraged by the wartime government. As the last German offensive of the war descended into failure, its collapse was blamed on strikes, denying the soldiers of what was required in their moment of need. Supposedly treasonous elements within German society were blamed, primarily Jews and socialists.

The key to understanding how the myth took hold is in the wartime nation’s widespread narrative- that Germany was fighting a just war, and that it was winning. German propaganda, under the military dictatorship of Erich Ludendorff and Paul von Hindenburg, repeatedly hammered home these messages.

The lack of wartime enemy occupation or the populace’s experience of the war’s front lines supported these beliefs. The vast majority of fighting on the Western front took place in France and Belgium- only reaffirming to the people the false belief that Germany could not be losing.

With such a perception of Germany’s apparent strength, the scene was set for the conspiracy to proliferate when news of defeat emerged. The first official declaration utilising the ‘stab’ metaphor probably occurred on 2nd November 1918 when a member of the Progressive People’s Party announced to the German parliament:

“As long as the front holds, we damned well have the duty to hold out in the homeland. We would have to be ashamed of ourselves in front of our children and grandchildren if we attacked the battle front from the rear and gave it a dagger-stab.” (1)

 

The German Defeat

The news that Germany was suing for an armistice on 11 November 1918 shattered the nation’s existing assumptions. Given the existing narratives, many believed that Germany could not have been defeated militarily. For many, the only explanation for defeat was that, inspired by revolts at home, the newly empowered socialist government had committed treason by unnecessarily suing for peace.

Indeed, it was an elaborate plan by Ludendorff and Hindenburg to pin the blame on the new democratic government. Without making any official declaration regarding defeat themselves, and then ceding the responsibility to sue for peace to the new republican government, they successfully pinned much of the blame away from themselves and on to the democratic politicians.

Ludendorff claimed that Germany’s strikes constituted ‘a sin against the man at the front’ and an act of ‘high treason against the country’. They were the ‘work of agitators’ who had infatuated and misled the working class, both of whom were the culprits of the German defeat. (2) These comments were entirely hypocritical – made despite having privately pressed both the Kaiser and politicians for an armistice given Germany’s imminent military collapse.

Meanwhile, whilst testifying before a parliamentary committee investigating the causes of the German defeat, Hindenburg remarked: “An English general said with justice: ‘The German army was stabbed in the back.’ No guilt applies to the good core of the army.” (3) Given the enormous prestige won by both Hindenburg and Ludendorff in the wartime struggle, especially the former, their testimonies lent powerful weight to the myth.

The situation was not helped by the republic’s first President and leader of the Social Democrats, Friederich Ebert. In public recognition of soldierly effort and sacrifice rather than any conspiratorial suggestion, his declaration from the Brandenburg Gate to returning soldiers that no enemy had vanquished them added greater legitimacy to the myth’s claim.

Historians unanimously agree that, faced with a dramatic shortage of supplies, the flooding of US soldiers and materiel into the Allied ranks, a collapsing home front, and with the possibility of an Allied march through Austria, Germany was in a position where defeat was inevitable. Furthermore, the responsibility for the collapse of morale on the home front rested squarely on the German government, who prioritized the needs of the front line at the expense of civilian well-being.

 

The Myth that Never Dissipated

Throughout its existence, the Weimar Republic witnessed an unhealthy deployment of the ‘stab-in-the-back’ – a myth which challenged the very foundations of the state. Matthias Erzberger, head of the German delegation which signed the armistice in November 1918, would pay for such a signing with his life. He was assassinated in 1921, a death welcomed by many. Many right-wing groups refused to recognise anything other than the total complicity of all democratic politicians in the German humiliation. This was the case even when these politicians vehemently protested the perceived severity of the Versailles Treaty.

Adolf Hitler heavily utilised the myth with his unremitting denunciation of those ‘November Criminals’ who had sued for an armistice in November 1918. Such castigations became a constant feature of Nazi propaganda, with their accusations of ‘high treason against the country’ being particularly virulent in its antisemitism. The Jews had ‘cunningly dodged death on the plea of being engaged in business’ and it was this ‘carefully preserved scum’ that had sued for peace at the first chance presented. (4)

Unlike the events in the Russian Empire in 1917, the revolution in Germany’s political landscape over the course of 1918 and 1919 was partial. The key party in deciding Germany’s future, the Social Democrats, forged a compromise between their ideals whilst maintaining many continuities from the old regime. Hence Germany’s courts, army and educational system underwent little change despite Germany’s new republican setup. These institutions, still populated by many individuals loyal to the old regime, empowered the myth’s proliferation. When Hitler faced charges of treason for launching a coup in 1923, the Munich court he faced was lenient to say the least. It allowed him an uninterrupted three-hour tirade to defend his actions and expound the illegitimacy of the Republic. Despite being found guilty of treason, Hitler was nonetheless imprisoned in pleasant conditions for only a year. (5)

One of the most destructive implications of the myth transpired in the Second World War: Hitler declared in 1942, “the Germany of former times laid down its arms at a quarter to twelve. On principle I have never quit before five minutes after twelve.” (6) Unlike the First World War, Hitler’s Germany would not surrender until the bitter end, with all the death, ruin and misery resulting therefrom.

 

What role did the Socialists and Jews actually have in the First World War?

Contrary to prevalent assumptions and prejudices, the German-Jewish population was overrepresented in the army, rather than ‘shirking’ as was consistently argued by antisemites during and after the war. Many Jewish Germans saw it as an opportunity to once and for all demonstrate their allegiance to the nation and eliminate all remaining traces of antisemitism. The authorities in 1916, subscribing to the shirking argument, ordered a census of Jews in the army. The results indicated Jewish overrepresentation rather than underrepresentation, but its results were never released to the public. This concealing of the truth only fuelled antisemitic conspiracy.

Meanwhile, German socialists found themselves in an awkward position throughout the war. It’s outbreak in 1914 divided them, culminating in a fractious split later in the war. Yet for the most part, German socialists remained loyal to the nation’s war effort, as part of a wider German political truce. Naturally, the political leadership of the Social Democrats attempted to balance the more radical elements of Germany’s workers against the demands of the state for war contribution.

Unfortunately, Germany’s strikes of January 1918 strikes signified a particularly divisive episode, with major ramifications for the post-war scene. By mediating between the strikers and the state, the Social Democrats were blamed by the more radical left-wing parties as unnecessarily prolonging the war, and on the other hand, blamed by the right-wing for denying the resources needed by German soldiers at the 11th hour. In 1924, President Ebert would be found technically guilty of treason by the German courts for his role in the mediation. It is, however, worth noting that Germany lost far fewer total days to strikes than Britain did during the war.

The stab-in-the-back myth remains a powerful reminder that Germany’s first experience of democracy had had a fundamentally unhealthy backdrop throughout its existence. It also warns of the dangers of unfounded claims in politics – and the importance for any democracy to thoroughly combat their falsehoods.

 

Find that piece of interest? If so, join us for free by clicking here.

 

 

Sources:

(1)   Ernst Muller, Aus Bayerns schwersten Tagen (Berlin, 1924), p.27.

(2)   Erich Ludendorff, My War Memories, 1914-1918, vol. 1 (London, 1919), p.334.

(3)   German History in Documents and Images, Paul von Hindenburg's Testimony before the Parliamentary Investigatory Committee ["The Stab in the Back"] (18 November 1919). Accessed 19 March 2025. https://ghdi.ghidc.org/sub_document.cfm?document_id=3829

(4)   Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf (Boston, 1943), p.521.

(5)   The Manchester Guardian, 27 February 1924, 7, ‘Ludendorff Trial Opens: "A Friendly Atmosphere." Hitler denounces Marxism and Berlin’s Timidity.’

(6)   Jewish Virtual Library, Adolf Hitler: Speech on the 19th Anniversary of the “Beer Hall Putsch” (November 8, 1942). Accessed 19 March 2025.

Among the thousands of women who served as nurses in the American Civil War was a little-known writer from Massachusetts. Her name was Louisa May Alcott.

Heather Voight explains.

Louisa May Alcott at around 20 years old.

Why Louisa became a Civil War Nurse

Louisa May Alcott had several reasons for wanting to become a nurse during the Civil War. Her father, Bronson Alcott, was an ardent abolitionist. The Alcott home sheltered runaway slaves from the South. Louisa shared her father’s abolitionist views at a young age. Her parents allowed her and sister Anna to roam their neighborhood streets. One day, before she had learned to swim, a black boy rescued Louisa from a pond. From then on, Louisa decided to befriend African Americans.

Louisa was also frustrated with the limited role that women were supposed to play in the Civil War. Like her mother and many of the other women in the neighborhood, Louisa helped to sew bandages and items of clothing for soldiers in their town. Soon she got bored, however, and wanted to do something more active. “I like the stir in the air, and long for battle like a war-horse when he smells powder,” Louisa wrote.

A more personal reason also encouraged Louisa to leave home. Her writing, though it kept her family solvent, was not getting the attention from the public that she wanted. In 1862 she wrote mainly thriller stories which made money but received no critical acclaim.

 

Requirements for Civil War Nurses

For these reasons Louisa responded enthusiastically when family friend Dorethea Dix became the Union’s superintendent of female nurses. Louisa fit almost all the requirements for Civil War nurses. Louisa was plain, always simply dressed, and already thirty years old. The only requirement she didn’t meet was that nurses should be married. Apparently, the marriage requirement was waived because she received her letter calling her to serve as a nurse on December 11, 1862. Louisa started packing at once. In addition to her clothing and some games, she packed some Charles Dickens novels that she planned to read to her patients.

 

Louisa’s Arrival at the Union Hospital in Washington, D.C.

After a tumultuous journey by train and ferry, Louisa arrived at Union Hotel Hospital in Washington, D.C. on December 16, 1863. This so-called hospital was a hastily converted former hotel and tavern.

Louisa kept a journal during her time as a nurse and wrote letters home whenever she had a spare moment. Eventually her words became known as Hospital Sketches. Three of these sketches were published in Commonwealth Magazine. The sketches were lightly fictionalized accounts of her nursing experiences.

 

Nursing on the Day Shift

A few days after she and her fictional counterpart Tribulation Periwinkle started nursing, they had to deal with wounded from the Battle of Fredericksburg. The battle was a terrible Union defeat in which 12,700 men were killed in one day. Tribulation describes the scene at the hospital: “when I peeped into the dusky street lined with what I at first had innocently called market carts…now unloading their sad freight at our door…my ardor experienced a sudden chill, and I indulged in a most unpatriotic wish that I was safe at home again, with a quiet day before me.”

The men coming in from Fredericksburg were covered in dirt from battle and from being piled on top of each other. A nurse’s first job was to clean the patients. The idea of caring for the physical needs of badly wounded and dying men was overwhelming to a woman whose only nursing experience was derived from her sister Beth’s battle with scarlet fever. As Tribulation says, “to scrub some dozen lords of creation at a moment’s notice was really—really—However, there was no time for nonsense.” Tribulation gets to work scrubbing an Irishman who is so amused at the idea of having a woman wash him that he starts laughing and “so we laughed together.”

Another of a nurse’s duties was to serve food to the men. Tribulation helped distribute the trays of bread, meat, soup and coffee. This fare was better than the nurses’ who were given beef so tough that Tribulation thought it must have been made for soldiers during the Revolutionary War.

Once the meals were cleared away, Tribulation took a lesson in wound dressing. Ether was not used to ease the men’s pain and Tribulation expressed her admiration for the soldiers’ “patient endurance.”   

After giving out medication and singing to the men, Tribulation finally retired for the evening at eleven.

 

Nursing on the Night Shift

Eventually both Louisa and her counterpart Tribulation moved from the day to the night shift. Tribulation says, “It was a strange life—asleep half the day, exploring Washington the other half, and all night hovering, like a massive cherubim, in a red rigolette, over the slumbering sons of men. I liked it, and found many things to amuse, instruct and interest me.” Amusement could be found in the hospital, laughing with patients or discovering that she could recognize them just by the differences in their snores.

Much of nursing was not amusing, however. Louisa wrote about her friendship with a patient named John. He worked as a blacksmith and served as the head of the family for his widowed mother and younger siblings. As Tribulation says, “His mouth was grave and firm, with plenty of will and courage in its lines, but a smile could make it as sweet as any woman’s.” Tribulation admires his will to live and is sure he will recover. She’s shocked to learn from the doctor that John is one of the sickest patients, with a bullet lodged in his lung. Eventually John asks, “This is my first battle; do they think it will be my last?” Tribulation answers him honestly. She stays with John as he dies, holding his hand to the very last.

 

Louisa’s Illness and Return Home

Louisa’s nursing career came to an end when she contracted typhoid pneumonia. She was determined to stay and try to recover at the hospital, but she agreed to go home when her father came to see her. She left on January 21, 1863, just over a month from when she arrived. Despite the illness and the lingering side effects she experienced from being dosed with a mercury compound by doctors, Louisa never regretted becoming a Civil War nurse. She wrote in Hospital Sketches that “the amount of pleasure and profit I got out of that month compensates for all pangs.”

 

The Publication of Hospital Sketches

The biggest compensation she received from her war work was the publication of Hospital Sketches. Her first three stories as nurse Tribulation Periwinkle published in Commonwealth Magazine proved to be so popular that Louisa wrote three more and they were published as a book. After years of writing thrillers and romances that paid well but were largely ignored, Louisa’s Hospital Sketches brought her popularity and critical acclaim. Louisa wrote to her publisher that “I have the satisfaction of seeing my townsfolk buying and reading, laughing and crying over it wherever I go.” Suddenly Louisa’s writing was in demand, with publishers requesting more stories and books. Louisa was on her way to becoming a famous author because of her decision to become a Civil War nurse. 

 

The site has been offering a wide variety of high-quality, free history content since 2012. If you’d like to say ‘thank you’ and help us with site running costs, please consider donating here.

 

 

References

Alcott, Louisa May. Hospital Sketches. Boston: James Redpath, 1863.

Cheever, Susan. Louisa May Alcott: A Personal Biography. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010.

Delmar, Gloria. Louisa May Alcott and “Little Women:” Biography, Critique, Publications, Poems, Songs and Contemporary Relevance. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland and Company, 1990.

LaPlante, Eve. Marmee and Louisa. New York: Free Press, 2012.

Stern, Madeleine. Louisa May Alcott: From Blood and Thunder to Hearth and Home. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1998.