Anti-German Sentiment in WWI UK: Xenophobia and Nationalism
In writing my historical fiction novel Roseleigh, one of the elements I wanted to portray was anti-German sentiment in the UK during WWI. It’s a complex topic well worth exploring in its own right.
When World War I broke out in 1914, there was a significant shift in public sentiment across Europe. In British history, the war stirred a wave of both patriotism and vehement anti-German sentiment. This hostility manifested in various forms, from government policies to social ostracism and violence. These profoundly impacted the lives of German immigrants and Britons of German descent.
WWI: Catalyst for Hostility
Anti-German sentiment was by no means new to the UK. It took root during the late 19th and early 20th centuries as competition increased between the British and German Empires. Still, it remained fairly mild and dormant. However, the belligerent stance Germany took following the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand intensified these feelings. When war was declared, the British government and media would play crucial roles in shaping and amplifying anti-German sentiment.
British Policies and Internment
In this period of British history, the government implemented measures to control and monitor German nationals within its borders. According to the 1911 national census, 53,324 German immigrants lived in Britain. The day after war was declared, the government passed The Alien Restriction Act of 1914. It required all foreign nationals to register with the police and restricted their movements to within 5 miles of their homes, disallowing entry or exit from the country without a permit. Even more draconian measures followed, including the internment of thousands of German men in camps. One notable internment camp was Knockaloe on the Isle of Man, which held over 23,000 men under harsh conditions. Roseleigh’s historical fiction discusses Knockaloe:
“Papa came back from Sheffield late last night. He met with a solicitor about getting his Cousin Albert released from Knockaloe. Because Albert’s under forty, it’s unlikely he’ll be released before the end of the war, and after the war, he’ll probably be sent back to Germany.”
The Müllers, tucked away in Rosedin, hadn’t had it as bad as many in the anti-German Britain for British campaigns. Mr. Müller had told Donnacha stories of associate butchers in Sheffield who had their shops vandalized and looted, especially after the large loss of British lives when a German U-boat sank the luxury ocean liner Lusitania last year. He said he had friends who were changing their names to be more English-sounding.
“I’m sorry. This war has torn many families apart,” Donnacha replied, looking at the girl’s worried face and thinking as much of his own family as hers. “Has your cousin been here long?”
“Ja, sure. Papa was an apprentice butcher in Württemberg and the man he worked for got a letter from a relative in Sheffield saying German pork butchers were in demand. So he came here in 1891. He was twenty-five. Cousin Albert had been living with my grandparents after his parents died of the whooping cough. He was just fourteen but he came with Papa and lived with him even after Papa married Mama. Albert looked up to Papa, who taught him his trade too.”
“If they’ve both been here the same amount of time, why was your cousin taken to a camp, and not your father?”
“Albert didn’t marry an English lady like Papa did, and he never bothered with the cost and paperwork of being naturalized.” Lotte held her right fist palm up and began counting each point. “So even though he’s never been in trouble here, and loves Britain, and he doesn’t even know anyone in Germany anymore,” she said, putting both hands on her hips, “he’ll be sent back after living here for twenty-five years! Papa said in Germany he’ll be treated as a traitor and will go from being a respectable butcher here to an unwanted mongrel there.”
Fear of espionage and sabotage drove the internment policy, despite the lack of concrete evidence. When Sir Roger Casement was caught attempting to smuggle German arms into Ireland in 1916, it fueled these fears, leading to even stricter measures and more internments.
Anti-German Ostracism and Vigilantism
Beyond official policies, the war fostered a climate of suspicion and hostility among the British public. Already by September of 1914, neighbors and coworkers reported some 8,000 cases of espionage in London alone. Most were spurious, but there were investigations, trials, and, ultimately, 11 executions. Angry mobs often targeted German-owned businesses. In 1915, a German U-boat sunk the luxury liner RMS Lusitania, resulting in the deaths of 1,197 civilians . This event sparked outrage and led to violent anti-German riots across Britain in cities such as London, Liverpool, and Manchester.
Mobs in Liverpool, for example, ransacked the businesses of the city’s thriving German community. In Roseleigh, pork butchers in Sheffield suffer the same fate.
Across Britain, vandals targeted shops and homes, subjecting many German nationals to physical assaults. The riots reflected the deep-seated anger and fear among the populace. They saw their former neighbors as potential enemies waiting, gathering information and ready to join an imminent German invasion.
Changing Names and Assimilation
The war also pressured individuals and families with German-sounding names to anglicize them to avoid persecution. The British royal family set a high-profile example in 1917 by changing their name from the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to the House of Windsor. Soon many others followed suit, adopting English surnames to evade suspicion and integrate more seamlessly into British society.
This period of British history saw a surge in the number of people changing their names by deed poll. For instance, a man named Heinrich Müller, like the Müllers in my historical fiction work, Roseleigh, might have changed his name to Henry Miller. This widespread name-changing was a poignant reflection of the lengths to which people would go to escape anti-German prejudice and assert their loyalty to Britain.
Cultural and Social Impact
The anti-German sentiment also extended to cultural spheres. German music, literature, and even foods fell out of favor and in some cases, there were outright bans. Concert programs removed works by German composers such as Beethoven and Wagner, and schools dropped the teaching of the German language. The United States renamed sauerkraut to “liberty cabbage” and German shepherds became “Alsatian Wolf Dogs.”
Publications and propaganda further fueled hatred. Newspapers often depicted Germans as barbaric “Huns,” a term popularized by British propaganda to dehumanize the enemy. Children’s comics and posters reinforced these stereotypes, embedding them deeply in the public consciousness.
In Roseleigh, an Irish Catholic character decides to join up based on just such stories of German atrocities.
[…] “He asked about Belgium. Those officers said it was far worse than reported in the papers, which were censored so as not to upset gentlefolk. And it was a righteous crusade, since the Germans were barbarians who hated Catholics and were doing terrible things to the poor Belgians.” She wept harder. “The worst story they told us was the Germans were cutting off the hands of innocent women, children and old people so they couldn’t pray the rosary. I think right then and there Aidan decided to join.”
Legacy of Anti-German Sentiment
The legacy of World War I’s anti-German sentiment endured long after the war ended. There were deportations of German women, children and the elderly throughout the War and following their release from internment, of men as well. Only 22,254 Germans remained in Britain by 1919. People found it difficult to rebuild their lives after internment or ostracization, be they textile workers in Bradford, waiters in London, or butchers in Sheffield. British history records a lingering suspicion of German nationals and those of German descent in the post-war years.
This period serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of xenophobia and the impact of war on civilian populations. The experiences of German immigrants in the UK during World War I highlight the broader themes of identity, nationalism, and the often-destructive power of fear and prejudice in times of conflict.
As shown in Roseleigh, fear, nationalism, and government policy fueled anti-German sentiment on the home front in the World War I period of British history. It resulted in significant social, cultural, and personal repercussions for many individuals and families. Understanding this chapter of history is crucial for recognizing the patterns of xenophobia that can emerge in times of national crisis and the enduring impact they can have on communities.
What are some other ways anti-German sentiment has affected people in the UK? Have you seen it portrayed in any particularly effective ways in historical fiction? Let me know in the comments.
If you want more information about the trials of the Müller family and other anti-German sentiment in World War I as portrayed in the historical fiction novel Roseleigh, please join my mailing list.
Resources on this topic that I found useful
Knockaloe Centre for WW1 Internment:
Visitor Centre & WW1 Civilian Internee Database
“When Sauerkraut Became ‘Liberty Cabbage’,” Iowa Culture, Feb 19, 2018.
“13 May 1915: Anti-German riots spread,” The Guardian (archive extract).
Cécile Vallée, “From ‘Hun’ to ‘Jerry’: The German Enemy in British Propaganda Posters During the Two World Wars,” La Revue, May 5, 2019.
Peter Warr, Chapter 5–“Born in Germany, Living in Sheffield,” Sheffield in the Great War, Pen and Sword Books, Ltd., 2015.
