A.P. Herbert
Some call them ‘bestial’; but that’s unkind:
There is no animal with such a mind.
Some others say: ‘They are my brothers still’;
I’ll own no relative so quick to kill.
Some are surprised—but why I do not know:
This story started centuries ago.
There is no need to seek another name:
These men are ‘germans’, evermore the same.
They’ll frown on Hitler now, the fickle crew,
Not for his deeds, but what he failed to do.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem offers a sharp, biting commentary on the nature of war, identity, and collective responsibility, especially when it comes to the German people during and after the Second World War. In just a few lines, the speaker challenges both romanticized and demonized perceptions of Germans, providing a critical, but ultimately resigned, reflection on the persistence of national identity and the long history of violence.
The opening lines — “Some call them ‘bestial’; but that’s unkind: / There is no animal with such a mind” — immediately challenge common portrayals of the German people as savage or inhuman. By rejecting the comparison to animals, the speaker makes an important distinction: even though the violence committed by the Germans during the war was horrific, it was not the result of mindless brutality. There is an intelligence behind the cruelty, a calculated reasoning that distinguishes human actions from instinctual behavior. The “bestial” label is rejected not because it’s untrue in some abstract way, but because it fails to acknowledge the complex, deliberate, and human nature of the deeds done.
The next lines — “Some others say: ‘They are my brothers still’; / I’ll own no relative so quick to kill” — highlight the tension between empathy and disillusionment. The speaker references those who maintain a sense of fraternity with the German people, even in the face of the atrocities committed during the war. These individuals seem to cling to the notion that all people are ultimately the same, but the speaker harshly rejects that view. The lines “I’ll own no relative so quick to kill” underscore the deep betrayal and repulsion the speaker feels. The act of murder, especially on such a widespread scale, is presented as a moral line too far to be reconciled by simple notions of familial unity or shared humanity. There is a clear emotional barrier between the speaker and those who perpetrate mass violence.
The speaker’s tone becomes even more critical in the lines, “Some are surprised—but why I do not know: / This story started centuries ago.” This suggests a profound sense of inevitability about the rise of Nazi Germany and the war. The speaker implies that the roots of the conflict and the aggression were deeply embedded in history — not an isolated moment of madness, but a long-standing pattern. The phrase “centuries ago” echoes the idea that the mindset leading to the horrors of the 20th century did not suddenly emerge in a vacuum but was the culmination of a long tradition of violence, pride, and nationalism.
In the lines, “There is no need to seek another name: / These men are ‘germans’, evermore the same,” the speaker makes an uncomfortable, yet powerful, statement about the continuity of national identity and the persistence of the “German” character throughout history. By saying “evermore the same,” the poem suggests that the people who carried out such atrocities during the war are not just individual criminals, but part of a broader, unchanging identity. This sentiment, while harsh, is designed to challenge the tendency to excuse or forget the sins of the past simply because time has passed. There’s an implicit critique of collective amnesia, as well as the ways in which national identity can be used to shield individuals from accountability.
Finally, the poem concludes with a bitter irony: “They’ll frown on Hitler now, the fickle crew, / Not for his deeds, but what he failed to do.” This line suggests that, while many Germans may denounce Hitler in the post-war years, their criticism is not rooted in moral reflection on the atrocities he carried out, but in the failure of his plans. The suggestion is that, to some extent, Hitler’s followers are less concerned with the ethical implications of their actions and more disappointed by his inability to achieve his goals. This twist critiques the disingenuous nature of such criticism, implying that the German people’s primary concern is not moral redemption, but national pride and lost power.
The poem as a whole reflects on the difficulty of reconciling individual responsibility with collective guilt. It challenges easy moral distinctions between “us” and “them” and forces the reader to confront the persistence of violent ideologies and actions. At the same time, it expresses a deep sense of disillusionment with the idea of redemption or forgiveness when faced with historical violence. The speaker seems to suggest that true understanding and change are difficult, if not impossible, to achieve without reckoning with the past in an honest, uncompromising way. The poem underscores the unrelenting shadow of history and the complex, often painful, relationship between identity and responsibility in the wake of war.