THE TWELFTH HOUR
Although the Austrian ultimatum to Servia was so worded and the
time accorded for a reply so limited as to ensure its rejection,
misgivings were, as we saw, felt and uttered in Vienna and Budapest
that Servia would knuckle down and execute the humiliating behests of
the Ballplatz. For this was a consummation which was deemed highly
undesirable. The carefully laid plan would have become difficult of
realization had Austria’s terms been acquiesced in unreservedly. It
would have rendered a military expedition superfluous and left Servia’s
army intact. Hence the exhaustive precautions adopted for the purpose
of provoking a negative answer to the ultimatum from Belgrade.
On July 23rd, while the Franco-Russian festivities were at their
height, and M. Poincaré and the Tsar were announcing to the world their
ultra-pacific strivings, the bolt fell from the blue. What will Russia
say? people asked in Western Europe. Well, the Russian Foreign Office,
as we now know, was informed by Austria of the text of the Note _only
seventeen hours after it had been presented, and only thirty-one hours
before the time limit had lapsed_! The little case thus made of Russia
by the Teutonic allies was meant to be clearly conveyed by this studied
affront. It had been decided in Berlin and Vienna that Russia must and
would remain passive.
Delay was the only danger apprehended in Vienna, and nothing was left
undone to prevent its occurrence. M. Pasitch, the Servian Premier,
who appears to have had an intuition of what was brewing, let it
be known before the Austrian Note was presented that he was absent
from Belgrade and was going abroad. His substitute was nominated. But
in Vienna they were on the alert, and M. Pasitch received from that
city an urgent telegram notifying him that the representations which
the Austro-Hungarian Government were drawing up would be delivered
in Belgrade almost immediately, and that their tenor was such as to
necessitate his presence in the capital. Thereupon the Premier hastened
back to Belgrade.
From the first inception of the Austro-German plan of concerted action,
the parts of each of the actors were assigned. Servia was to be stung
into utterances or action which would warrant resort to an Austrian
punitive expedition, but before this Russia was to be warned that
if she aided or abetted her protégé and issued a mobilization order
against Austria, a counter-move would at once be made by Germany, who
would mobilize, not as a demonstration, but for war. This warning was
to serve as an efficacious deterrent. If Russia, it was argued, can
be got to realize that even partial mobilization on her part will
provoke not merely general mobilization by Austria, but war with
Germany and with Austria-Hungary, her zeal for the Southern Slavs will
be damped, and she will entrench herself behind diplomatic formulas.
This conviction was deep-rooted. It formed one of the postulates
of the Austro-German scheme. Evidences of it are to be met with
everywhere. But by way of making quite sure, private letters were
written by Continental statesmen to their friends in the interested
Governments--letters like that which the Kaiser himself once penned to
Lord Tweedmouth--impressing upon them the gravity of the situation,
and adjuring them to realize that this time Austria and Germany were
playing no mere game of bluff, but were in downright earnest, and that
if peace was to be maintained at all, it could only be by inducing
Russia to forego mobilization.
That, too, was the burden of many of my own messages to the _Daily
Telegraph_, beginning with the very first. Thus on July 28th I
telegraphed:
The moment Russia mobilizes against the Dual Monarchy, the German
Empire as well as Austria-Hungary will respond, and then the object
of these military operations will be pursued to the bitter end,
with the results so clearly foreseen and so graphically described
by Sir Edward Grey in his proposals.
In the interests of European peace, therefore, which can still
be safeguarded, in spite of the hostilities now going ahead,
it is essential that every means of friendly pressure should
be thoroughly exhausted before a provocative measure such as
mobilization is resorted to. For mobilization by Russia, Germany,
and Austria will connote the outbreak of the long-feared general
Continental war.
In the assumption that Russia would be partly intimidated and partly
talked over by her French allies and English friends as soon as these
learned what tremendous issues hung in the balance, the two Teutonic
Governments laid it down from the start that no Power would be
permitted to intervene between Austria and Servia in any shape or form.
These two States must compose or fight out their quarrel as best they
could without the good offices or advice of any foreign Government. “No
discussion will be allowed,” I accordingly telegraphed; “no extension
of time will be granted.” All these limitations were elements of the
pressure brought to bear upon Russia directly through her friends and
ally. I sought to make this clear in one of my messages to the _Daily
Telegraph_, in which I wrote:
Meanwhile, Austria’s allies have taken their stand, which is
favourable to the action of this Government and to the employment
of all the available means to localize the eventual conflict. It
is further assumed that Great Britain will, if hostilities should
result, hold aloof, and that France will make her influence felt in
preventing rather than waiting to localize the struggle.[17]
But Russia needed no deterrents, if Austria’s ostensible aim were her
real one, if she were bent only on obtaining guarantees for Servia’s
good behaviour in future. For the Tsardom was peaceably disposed and
extremely averse to war. M. Sazonoff’s attitude was straightforward
and considerate. He showed thorough understanding for Austria’s
grievances and reasonable claims. He had no intention of jeopardizing
peace by screening Servia or rescuing her from the consequences of her
misbehaviour. King Peter’s Cabinet accordingly received sound advice
from the Tsar’s Government. And what was more to the point, they
adopted it.
During the second day of the time-limit in Vienna and Budapest it was
feared that Servia would give in. M. Jovanovitch, the Servian Minister,
hinted as much, and when one reads Servia’s reply one cannot fairly
reproach him with overstating the gist of it. For it was acceptance of
all those demands which were compatible with independence. But then
independence was precisely what Austria was minded to take away. And
the reserves and provisoes made by the Servian Note for the purpose
of safeguarding it determined the departure of Baron von Giesl from
Belgrade. Characteristic of the fixed resolve of the Teutonic States to
force a quarrel upon Servia at all costs and irrespective of her reply
to the Austrian Note is the circumstance, vouched for by the Russian
press, that within forty minutes of the delivery of that reply, which
was a lengthy document, the Austrian Minister in Belgrade had read and
rejected it, had removed his luggage and that of his staff from the
Legation to the railway station, and was seated in the train that was
to convey him out of Servia. Forty minutes!
It is not easy for Western minds, accustomed to truth, honour,
and self-respect, to realize how all the usages of international
intercourse were thus set at naught during this first stage of the
European conflict. Words and forms were employed to mislead. Servia’s
answer was wanted only as providing a plausible pretext for the
resort to force, which had been decided on from the first. And I was
informed--although I must in fairness add that I had no tangible
evidence for the assertion, nothing but a strong presumption--that
even if M. Pasitch, violating the Constitution of his country, had
undertaken to carry out all Austria’s behests unreservedly, and if no
internal troubles had resulted from this subservience, the Austrian
troops massed on the Servian frontiers would not have been baulked of
their prey. Another demand was held in reserve which Servia could not
and would not comply with, and her refusal would have afforded the
wished-for ground for invasion.
In any and every case, Servia was to have been entered by Austrian
troops. That seems to have been a settled and irrevocable resolve. And
all the diplomatic notes, conversations, and reports, which Sir Edward
Grey, M. Viviani, and M. Sazonoff treated as excusable manifestations
of fiercely burning anger, were but cunningly devised expedients to
sting the Belgrade Cabinet into some word or act that might serve to
justify this set plan. The plan was not at first suspected by the
Entente Powers, nor was it fully understood for some time even after
its existence had been discovered. It was, as we saw, twofold. First,
the “punishment” of the army by the forces of the Dual Monarchy, and of
the nation by the levy of a crushing war indemnity, and of the economic
energies of the country by the imposition of a commercial treaty which
was to lay Servia permanently at the mercy of her powerful navy. And,
second, the partition of the newly annexed territories among Servia’s
neighbours and the establishment of a Balkan League under the ægis of
the Habsburgs. The machinery for bringing about this latter object
was in full movement at the very time that the British, French, and
Russian Governments were basing their moderation and self-containment
on Austria’s voluntary undertaking not to _annex_ any portion of
Servian territory. Here, again, was a case of juggling with phrases
which the Chancelleries of the Entente Powers were taking at their
face value. Pressure was even then being put upon Turkey, Bulgaria,
and Greece to assist in this underhand scheme, and reliance was being
placed in the Hohenzollern King Carol, who would, it was assumed, make
full use of his authority to hinder Roumania from taking sides against
Austria-Hungary. The Treaty of Bucharest was to be proclaimed a scrap
of waste paper.
Had the Governments of the Entente realized the impossibilities
that beset them when zealously endeavouring to hit upon a formula
which would have satisfied Vienna and insured the quiescence of St.
Petersburg, they would unquestionably have bent their efforts in quite
other directions. But this vital aspect of the matter lay hidden from
their vision. They were further imposed upon by Germany’s evident
anxiety that the war area should be restricted to Servian territory.
Indeed, one of the most caustic ironies of the crisis lay in the eager
co-operation of the Entente Powers with Germany for what they all
termed the peace of Europe, but which the Teutonic States knew to be
the smooth execution of their own sinister designs. The combined moral
pressure of all Europe was accordingly brought to bear upon Russia to
oblige or constrain her to passivity for the sake of the general peace.
And it must be confessed that the Tsar’s Ministers came up to the
highest expectations conceived of them. Defence, not offence, was their
watchword. They would follow the lead of their future adversaries
and content themselves with parrying their thrusts. M. Sazonoff’s
first step, although he may have foreseen the coming hurricane, was
to ask for an extension of the time-limit. “If you want to localize
the quarrel,” he argued, “you must adopt suitable measures. You say
that our co-operation is essential. Well, we are willing to accord it.
Let us get to work at once. Some of your demands involve a change in
the Servian Constitution. No Minister and no Cabinet can accomplish
this without a law passed by the Legislature. And this cannot be
done in a few hours. But give Servia a few days to turn your demands
over in her mind, and give us time to advise and to urge her to
prudence and compromise.” Now if, as France and Great Britain assumed,
Austria wanted only to punish Servia for her past attitude and obtain
guarantees of future good behaviour, she would have complied with this
common-sense request. But as that was not her entire plan, she refused,
congruously with her preliminary arrangement with the German Kaiser,
and relying on the axiom that Russia would not fight.
This negative answer disclosed the fact that the two allies’ plans
went further than had been assumed. Thereupon the Tsar’s Government
issued orders countermanding the manœuvres, promoting officers,
summarily terminating the camp gatherings, prohibiting aviation
over the frontiers, and proclaiming the two capitals in a state of
“extraordinary protection.” Notwithstanding, or by reason of this,
Berlin put in a plea that she should not be confounded with Vienna.
“It was not we who sent the ultimatum. Neither did we know the text of
it. That was Austria’s handiwork, and, what is more to the point, she
has acted at her own risk and peril. Please bear that in mind.” “We
certainly will. But are we to take it that, having acted at her own
risk and peril, Austria is proceeding alone?” “Ah, well, she is our
ally, you know, and we are bound to second her demands and stand by her
to the end.” “Well, will you exercise an ally’s right and counsel her
to postpone military operations until Europe has had time to secure
for her ample satisfaction.” “No, we do not see our way to comply with
this request.” That was Germany’s mode of speech and action. Thereupon
Russia introduced a modification of the law of military conscription
in so far as it deals with officers of the reserve and the militia.
The practical result of this innovation was to facilitate mobilization
should that measure be subsequently resorted to.
Soon after the expiry of the time-limit Austria declared war on the
realm of King Peter. M. Sazonoff, having from the start defined his
country’s position in the words, “Russia cannot adopt an attitude of
unconcern in a struggle between Austria-Hungary and Servia,” continued
to give striking proofs of the Tsar’s will to save Europe from a
general war. Sir Edward Grey had offered to get satisfaction for the
Dual Monarchy through the Powers, and he would have accomplished his
purpose without a doubt. But Austria was bent on getting something
more than satisfaction for herself and for Germany in spite of Russia,
whom she stigmatized as the mischief-maker. Hence all the heavy guns
of European diplomacy were levelled against the Tsardom, while the
St. Petersburg Foreign Office went beyond the Hercules’ pillars of
conciliation. Not only had Russia induced Servia to consent to terms
which were onerous and humiliating, but the Russian Ambassador in
Vienna said it was probable that his Government would, if properly
approached, _go still further_.[18] Our own Ambassador in that capital
assured his chief that he had gathered that Russia “_would go a long
way to meet Austrian demands on Servia_.”[19] M. Sazonoff did not
stop even here. He was careful to explain that mobilization should be
envisaged as what it really was, namely, a mere intimation that Russia
must be consulted regarding the fate of Servia, not as a threat of
war.[20]
The German Kaiser, celebrating the 200th anniversary of the Kingdom
of Prussia, had laid down the principle that “in this world nothing
must be settled without the intervention of Germany and of the German
Emperor,” yet the fate of a Slav State, which Russia had, so to say,
created and watched over and protected, was about to be decided
without her consent, nay, without her knowledge. Russia was to be
ostentatiously ignored and the Balkan States to be impressed by the
fact that she was worse than powerless as a friend. That the Tsar’s
Government, however ready for compromise, would not brook this deadly
affront was manifest to all excepting those who had settled it to
their own satisfaction that she was too helpless to move. And the
two Teutonic allies were of this opinion. That is why their answers
to Russia’s demands for a conference, or at any rate for an exchange
of views, were not only negative in substance, but wantonly insolent
in form. All that M. Sazonoff demanded was an assurance that Servia
would not be utterly crushed. It was refused. He would, he said,
understand that Austria-Hungary is compelled to exact from Servia
measures which will secure her Slav provinces from the continuance of
hostile propaganda from Servian territory.[21] And that was what every
statesman in Europe was also saying. If Austria’s demands had been, as
they seemed, inspired by a legitimate desire to safeguard herself from
a real Servian danger, the undertakings of Servia and Russia ought to
have afforded her a broad enough basis for a pacific settlement. But
all these colloquies, assurances, and claims were but the screen behind
which a huge anti-European conspiracy was being hatched. And as yet
the truth had not dawned on the statesmen of the Entente, who, still
hypnotized by the crime of Sarajevo, were honestly working to obtain
amends and guarantees for Austria-Hungary and ward off the growing
peril of a general war.
Germany, ever alert and watchful, was the first to note that Russia’s
attitude differed from what it should be according to programme. She
did not appear disposed to take with resignation the humiliation
devised for her. She declared that she would not be indifferent to a
conflict between Austria and Servia. She demanded a hearing in the
councils of those who arrogated to themselves the right of life and
death over her Slav protégé. As soon as this discrepancy between
the actual and the expected became evident, the Berlin Government,
which had made provision for this eventuality, commenced elaborate
preparations against Russia, particularly in the Finnish Gulf. And
as is the wont of Prussia, these preparations were secret. But the
Russian authorities got wind of them, and apprized our Ambassador in
St. Petersburg of what was taking place.[22]
Russia’s spirited determination, coupled with her dignified
conciliatory disposition, caused painful heartburnings in Vienna. It
constituted the first hitch in the official programme. What was the
good of having agents in St. Petersburg, who supplied exact copies of
State papers and faithful narratives of private conversations, if the
legitimate deductions from these data were upset at the very outset?
To me, who witnessed the gradual breaking in of this painful light
on the systematic mind of Teutonic diplomacy, there was something
intensely ludicrous in the tragic spirit in which it was received.
Could nothing, it was asked, be done to keep Russia in bounds? Was
France fully alive to the issues which Russia’s intervention would
raise? Where was the love of peace so lately and so loudly professed by
the Tsar and M. Poincaré?
I had not the faintest doubt as to how Russia would behave under the
provocation to which she was being subjected by the Teutonic States.
There are some considerations of an altruistic nature which nations,
like individuals, set above their own vital interests--considerations
that engage all that is deepest and noblest in their feelings, that
fire their imagination and call forth all the energies of their will.
And the fate of the little Servian nation was one of these causes. To
the Russian the Slav cause is much more than a political interest: it
is a religious cult. But for such altruistic heroisms the Prussianized
German has no sense. To him it is the fourth emotional dimension. On
July 30th I despatched the following telegram to the _Daily Telegraph_,
which I afterwards discovered was not transmitted:
It would be a delusion to suppose that Russia will keep the peace
while Servia is undergoing punishment that would reduce her to
the rank of a semi-vassal State, and it would be a piece of still
greater self-deception to imagine that Germany will not raise her
army to its war-footing once the mobilization order has been issued
in St. Petersburg, or will not use that army to the full when it is
in the field. And as Austria-Hungary is resolved to have her way
with Servia, and to refuse to render account of her action to any
other Power, one is forced to the conclusion that the only possible
solution to the present crisis is the much-dreaded European war.
It is for that tremendous struggle that the Great Powers, and
possibly one or other of the smaller ones, must now make ready.
On July 30th the meek, insignificant figure of the German Ambassador,
Count Pourtalès, his head sheepishly bent down on his left shoulder,
passed through the spacious apartments of the Russian Ministry of
Foreign Affairs. After a brief talk with M. Sazonoff he became aware
that the Rubicon was about to be passed, whereupon, as our Ambassador
to the Tsar puts it, “he completely broke down. He appealed to M.
Sazonoff to make some suggestion which he would telegraph to the German
Government as a last hope.” For he, too, was aware that Russia’s
entrance into the arena was an item which the Berlin wire-pullers had
no wish to add to their compact little programme. To this appeal the
Tsar’s Minister gave a ready and conciliatory reply: “If Austria,”
he said, “recognizing that her conflict with Servia has assumed the
character of a question of European interest, declares herself ready
to eliminate from her ultimatum those points which run counter to the
principle of Servia’s sovereignty, Russia engages to stop all military
preparations.”
That proposal was fair and moderate from every point of view but one.
And that one was the Austro-German plot, which it was calculated to
thwart.
As yet Russia’s mobilization was but partial.
This consummation the Berlin authorities, and still more those of
Vienna and Budapest, were straining every nerve to prevent. Even at
this twelfth hour, when every lever had been moved in vain to eliminate
Russia, a last expedient suggested itself to the resourceful minds of
the plotters. Could not Great Britain be induced to throw her weight
in the scale of the “peacemakers,” or, at any rate, to withdraw it
from the scale of the would-be belligerents? All she had to do was to
make a formal declaration without further delay that, pipe how the
allies might, she would refuse to take part in the war-dance. The
London Foreign Office has peace and war in its hands, they urged. If
Sir Edward Grey’s professions are sincere, now is the moment to act
up to them. Let him declare that he will not support Russia or France
if these Powers persist in forcing Germany and Austria into war, and
the situation will be eased at once. We here in Germany and Austria
know that Britain will keep aloof, but Russia and particularly France
think differently. If they were warned in time, all might yet be right
and the war would be localized. And various original expedients were
discussed for having the matter brought before his Majesty’s Secretary
of State for Foreign Affairs. I, too, was asked for my opinion and
suggestions. I uttered the former in words which I at once made
public. I stated that the British Government was sincerely anxious
to see peace speedily re-established in the Balkans and safeguarded
throughout Europe; that his Majesty’s Government had done and still
were engaged in doing everything calculated to achieve these ends;
that their hands were perfectly free and would remain free so long as
they could continue to discharge the functions of peace-maker; and
that if, contrary to their hope and expectation, that task should
become impossible, their action would be determined by eventualities
upon which, as they still lay in the region of conjecture, it would be
premature to speculate.
That neutrality was and would remain Great Britain’s card was for long
taken for granted. It was the last illusion to vanish.
It is worth noting that the pressure which Germany and Austria sought
to exert on the British Government in order to elicit a declaration of
neutrality, less as a policy--that being taken for granted--than as a
means of influencing Russia and France, seemed equally desirable to
the Tsar’s Government for the purpose of obtaining a promise of naval
and military support, and thus deterring the two military States from
their subversive designs. Thus M. Sazonoff urged our Government to show
their hand in this way. But Sir George Buchanan replied that it would
be a mistake to think “that the cause of peace could be promoted by our
telling the German Government that they would have to deal with us as
well as with Russia and France if they supported Austria by force of
arms. Their attitude would merely be stiffened by such a menace, and
we could only induce her to use her influence at Vienna to avert war by
approaching her in the capacity of a friend who was anxious to preserve
peace. His Excellency must not, if our efforts were to be successful,
do anything to precipitate a conflict. In these circumstances I trusted
that the Russian Government would defer the mobilization ukase as long
as possible, and that troops would not be allowed to cross the frontier
even when it was issued.”[23]
That was a statesmanlike view, and, coupled with the earnest request
made by our Government to M. Sazonoff that he would have mobilization
delayed as long as possible, it affords signal proof that Great
Britain marched perseveringly and with steadfast tread along the road
that led to peace, and strenuously exerted herself to draw all other
Powers after her. That is the answer to the allegations now made by
the German Government and its organs that Great Britain provoked
the war. Sir Edward Grey’s exertions to hinder the collision were
strenuous and persistent. They failed, and could not but fail, seeing
that Austria and Germany had bound themselves to carry out a set
aggressive plan, and were not open either to argument or suasion. The
sole difference between the two was that Austria-Hungary relied upon
Russia’s quiescence and was willing to reconsider her attitude if that
condition were not realized, whereas Germany, while also acting on
the same assumption, had made ample provision for error, and was not
to be turned from her scheme even if Russia entered the lists. “The
conviction had been expressed to me by the German Ambassador on July
24th,” writes Sir M. de Bunsen from Vienna, “that Russia would stand
aside. This feeling, which was also held at the Ballplatz, influenced,
no doubt, the course of events.”
Adopting the moderating counsel tendered by the British Government,
Russia at first proceeded only to partial mobilization. But as even
that legitimate measure of self-defence had been prohibited--there
is no more fitting term to suit the mode in which the veto had been
uttered--by Germany, the Russian Ambassador, as soon as he heard of
it, packed up his belongings and prepared to quit Vienna. He then
learned, however, to his surprise, that the resources of diplomacy
were not yet deemed to be exhausted, and he resumed conversations with
Count Berchtold and Baron Macchio. On the same day I was apprized that
certain Russian lighthouses on the Black Sea had been ordered to put
out their lights, and that the Stock Exchange was closed for three days.
France’s behaviour during this rising tide of Teutonic aggression
testified to her settled resolve to avoid every measure of precaution
which might supply Germany with a pretext for diplomatic protest or
military aggression. Nor did she hesitate to sacrifice those initial
advantages which might be secured by such preliminary steps as all
nations menaced by war are wont to adopt. The War Office withdrew their
advance-posts to a distance of ten kilometres from the frontier,
and the local population were thus abandoned to the attack of the
German army. To my mind this is one of the most conclusive proofs
of the self-containment and pacific mood of the Entente Powers.
Great Britain sternly refusing to offer the slenderest encouragement
to either of her friends, and straining their forbearance to its
uttermost limits by demanding heavy strategical sacrifices of each
in the cause of conciliation; Russia holding her hand, contented to
follow Germany’s moves feebly and at intervals, and falling in with
every suggestion made in the interests of peace, however it might
jar with her sentiments or clash with her general policy; and France
drawing away her troops from the threatened frontiers while Germany was
mobilizing--these eloquent facts supply the most complete answer to the
questions who wanted and who began the war.
“The Government,” M. Viviani explained, “wishes to make it clear that
in no case will France be the aggressor.” And the Government of the
Republic made this abundantly clear.
Germany took a different view of her rights and duties. On July
30th her advance-posts were moved forward to the French frontiers.
The 16th Corps from Metz and part of another corps from Treves and
Cologne occupied the frontier at Metz. Reservists were on their way
to Germany by tens of thousands, yet France abstained from summoning a
single recruit. The next move was also made by Berlin: all Germany was
proclaimed to be in a “state of war,” the Crown Prince was appointed
Commander of the First Division of the Guards. Then, and only then,
did Russia issue the order for general mobilization. But even then
she mollified the effect of this precaution by announcing that it
was not a signal for war, but merely an intimation that her voice,
too, must be heard in deciding the fate of Servia. At the same time
passenger traffic on the railways was reduced, goods traffic suspended
altogether, and Finland and the province of Petersburg were declared in
a state of siege.
This news came to Vienna, in a distorted form, through the Prussian
capital. It was affirmed that the Tsar and also M. Sazonoff had broken
their solemn promise not to mobilize during the endeavours which
the Kaiser was making to coax Austria into a more pliant mood. This
statement was, like so many others that emanated from the same source,
at variance with facts and intended to mislead. Without the knowledge
of those facts I at once recorded my absolute conviction that this was
a venomous calumny against M. Sazonoff and his sovereign. We now know
that what the Tsar actually wrote to the Kaiser was this:
It is technically impossible to discontinue our military
operations, which are rendered necessary by Austria’s mobilization.
We are far from wishing for war, and so long as the negociations
with Austria regarding Servia continue, my troops will not
undertake any provocative action. I give thee my word upon it.
That is a very different thing from an undertaking not to mobilize.
And as for the Kaiser coaxing his ally into a compliant mood, he and
his Ministers were stiffening her obstinacy, and when she did finally
give way, far from welcoming her decision, he quashed it himself by his
ultimatums to Russia and France. Neither France nor Russia had at any
moment during these stirring days kept step with Austria and Germany
in their military preparations. They deliberately and ostentatiously
lagged behind at the cost of precious time and strategic advantages,
and in the delusive belief that they were dealing with two peace-loving
States, whereas they were being circumvented by two banded conspirators
whose one aim was to execute their plot at the lowest possible cost,
and one of whom was determined to execute it in any and every event.
I endeavoured to make this aspect of the collision as clear as the
restrictions of censorship would allow. No one capable of reading and
grasping the meaning of a cautiously worded warning could mistake the
import of the following passage of a message which I sent to the _Daily
Telegraph_ on July 26th, fully a week before the die had been cast. I
wrote:
As I have explained, the assassination of the Archduke and the
greater or lesser degree of indirect responsibility for this
crime which may be ascribed to Servia’s public men are matters
which touch but the fringe of the question. The real issue lies
much deeper than the events of the last few weeks. It is of long
standing, and has been submitted time and again to the Servian
Government and people, who are therefore deemed to be in possession
of all the requisite data for coming to a definite decision. Hence
the probable refusal with which the Austrian Ministers will meet
such requests by one or all of the Entente Powers. The German
Government was kept accurately and fully posted well in advance by
reason of the far-reaching practical decisions which the sequel of
this action might suddenly and peremptorily oblige her to take.
All the deliberation, therefore, on the Note and the contingent
necessity of following it up in ways unwelcome to both allies, but
unavoidable in certain circumstances, took place beforehand, and,
together with it, the requisite diplomatic and military measures
were adopted by the statesmen of Vienna and Budapest before any
overt action was undertaken. Vigilant attention was paid to the
choice of a propitious moment.
It was a moment when the sympathies of Europe were with the
Austro-Hungarian people, whose Soveriegn-designate was cruelly
slain by political assassins from Servia at the instigation of
men who occupied posts as public servants there. It was a moment
when the French nation, impressed by revelations made in the
Senate respecting its inadequate preparedness for war, appears
less than ever minded to take any diplomatic action which might
lead to a breach of the peace. It was a moment when the cares of
the British Government are absorbed in forecasting and preparing
for the fateful consequences of its internal policy, which may, it
is apprehended, culminate in civil war. It was a moment when the
President and Foreign Secretary of the French Republic were absent
in Russia, drinking toasts to the peace of Europe and celebrating
the concord and brotherhood of the French and Russian peoples. It
was a moment when Russia herself is confronted with a problem of
revolutionary strikes, which, it is assumed, would set in with
oceanic violence if that Empire were to embark in war with the
Central European Powers.
Finally, it was the moment after Servia’s friend and mentor, M. de
Hartwig, the Russian Minister in Belgrade, had been called to his
last account, and King Peter’s Ministers were obliged to come to a
decision on the merits of the case alone, without M. de Hartwig’s
counsel, and without being able to reckon with confidence upon any
backing, military or even diplomatic.
To imagine, therefore, that the Austro-Hungarian statesmen would
deliberately throw away any of the advantages offered by this
complex of favourable conditions would be to credit them with a
degree of _naïveté_ uncommon among public men. The object which the
Austrian Emperor’s Ministers had in view when presenting the Note
was precisely to elicit a refusal, or acceptance, pure and simple,
not to wrangle about the wording of conditions or diplomatic
formulas. The average man in the Dual Monarchy was afraid that the
reply might be an acquiescence, and he said so. His hope, which
never hardened into belief, was that Baron Giesl would receive a
_non possumus_ for his answer.
To the British public this was as clear an exposé of the actual
situation and its bearings upon the peace of Europe as could well be
given.
All Europe, and in particular the British Foreign Office, was now
beginning to see that the open and secret moves of this fateful
chess-match were determined by Germany, who was the real player
throughout. Hence the redoubling of the efforts made to get Berlin to
utter the word which would have dispelled the storm-clouds. If the
Kaiser’s Government had intimated to Vienna their desire to see the
demands of the ultimatum modified, as they could have done, there is
no doubt that the answer would have been compliance. That this step
ought to have been taken, not only for peace’ sake, but also on the
merits of the case, can be shown from the announcement made by the
German Secretary of State himself. Sir Edward Grey wrote on July 27th:
“The German Secretary of State has himself said that _there were some
things in the Austrian Note that Servia could hardly be expected to
accept_.” Why, then, one may pertinently ask, did the German Government
not take exception to them? To this the only rational answer is,
because it approved, nay inspired, the policy of asking for the
impossible in order to elicit a refusal. If those impossible demands
had been withdrawn, Russia was ready to give Austria a free hand. And
Austria finally agreed to withdraw them, but Germany vetoed her sudden
moderation by presenting ultimatums to Russia and France.
It was Germany, therefore, who plunged Europe into war.
For lest there should remain the shadow of a doubt as to the leading
part played by the Kaiser and his Ministers in picking the quarrel
with Servia and Russia, Sir Edward Grey left it to Berlin to make
any suggestions it cared to offer with a view to compromising the
differences.
I urged (he writes) that the German Government should suggest any
method by which the influence of the four Powers could be used
together to prevent war between Austria and Russia. France agreed.
Italy agreed. The whole idea of mediation or mediating influence
was ready to be put in operation by _any method that Germany_ could
suggest, if mine was not acceptable. In fact, mediation was ready
to come into operation by any method that Germany thought possible
if only Germany would “press the button” in the interests of
peace.[24]
This offer needs no comment. It laid the entire responsibility for
non-acceptance on the shoulders of the Kaiser and his advisers. It
was with Germany’s sabre that the statesmen of Vienna and Budapest
were endeavouring to frighten the Slavs. She had the right and the
duty to withhold her military support from an ally whose cause was
not just. And she owned in words that Austria’s cause answered to
this description. Yet she not only upheld that cause, but took the
initiative in furthering it, her motive being that Russia, according
to her information, was crippled and powerless, and could now be
discredited in the eyes of her protégées and humbled in the dust. This
was an opportunity that might not recur, and should, therefore, be
utilized to the fullest. Accordingly, Germany would confront Russia
with the choice between a diplomatic or a military defeat.
That, in brief, was the Kaiser’s line of action.
And here we reach the parting of the ways of Austria and Germany. The
statesmen of Vienna dreaded war with Russia, and as soon as it faced
them drew back and lowered their tone. On July 27th Sir Edward Grey was
informed by our Ambassador in Vienna that the conversations between the
Tsar’s Foreign Minister in St. Petersburg and the Austrian Ambassador
had been proceeding, and the two negociators had made perceptible
headway. “The former had agreed that much of the Austro-Hungarian Note
to Servia was perfectly reasonable, _and, in fact, they had practically
reached an understanding as to the guarantees which Servia might
reasonably be asked to give to Austria-Hungary for her future good
behaviour_.” In other words, the main difficulty seemed to have been
overcome. But the German Ambassador in Vienna had still to be reckoned
with. This _advocatus diaboli_ was determined that Russia should quaff
the cup of humiliation to the dregs. And he succeeded.
The very next day Count Berchtold, in answer to a request from the
Russian Ambassador in Vienna that the conversations in St. Petersburg
should be continued and that the Austrian Ambassador there should be
invested with full powers for the purpose, stated that he was unable to
comply with the request.[25] On this same day Russia ordered a partial
mobilization, and declared that it connoted no aggressive intention
against Germany.
It was meant only as an admonition to Austria that, while anxious
to settle all differences in a friendly way, Russia was not quite
so incapacitated for military action as her neighbour imagined. It
was a perfectly legitimate reply to Austria’s partial mobilization
and declaration of war against Servia. Nobody was taken by surprise
by it except the two States which had set Russia down as militarily
powerless. And of these Austria was the more painfully impressed, and
showed this by a sudden infusion of the spirit of compromise into
her diplomatic methods. Two days later she reconsidered her refusal
to allow the conversations in St. Petersburg to be continued. Count
Berchtold received the Russian Ambassador in a friendly manner,
and apprized him that his request would be complied with, and the
negociations with M. Sazonoff would be resumed. And they were resumed
and worked out to what was rightly considered success.
But Germany again stepped in--not, however, as mediator, but as a
marplot.