The Church of England, the European War, and the Great Opportunity

Abstract

The month of August 1914 was a frightening and exciting time for British people. War between the continental powers erupted on 3 August, a bank-holiday Monday, and in London crowds of citizens, many of whom had been prevented from taking trips to coastal resorts due to suspended rail services, thronged the streets of Whitehall hoping to catch a glimpse of the government ministers who were deciding the fate of the nation. Later in the day, and again the following evening when Britain’s entry into the war had become certain, crowds of tens of thousands gathered outside Buckingham Palace to serenade King George V with choruses of the national anthem.¹ The presence of such animated and apparently cheerful crowds in the capital was interpreted both during the conflict and much later as a sign of mass enthusiasm for the war. Niall Ferguson, Adrian Gregory and others have challenged this interpretation and argued that the behaviour of the London crowds does not in itself indicate an eagerness to go to war, and, even if it did, the atmosphere on the streets of one district of the capital city by no means accurately reflects the contemporary mood across the United Kingdom.² The myth of a naive popular enthusiasm for war has tended to obscure the complexity of emotions people felt in the earliest days of the conflict.

There has been a great deal of talk since the war began of ‘the Church’s opportunity’. It is one of those vague phrases, which is the delight of the man who has no responsibility in the matter and the despair of those who have. It suggests that ‘somebody ought to do something’ and in this case the ‘somebody’ darkly hinted at is obviously the unfortunate chaplain.

Donald Hankey, A Student in Arms, 1916