THE ANNEXATION
The proclamation of the Annexation of Bosnia and Herzegowina in 1908,
with the evacuation of the Sanjak as a compensation to Turkey, took
Europe by surprise. The general feeling was one of utter astonishment,
that Austria-Hungary, herself far along the road to bankruptcy, should
presume to annex anything. It is doubtful whether any one realised that
Germany stood firm behind her in her high-handed action. Even if this
were known vaguely, no one was aware that Germany had been consulted,
had fathered the plan, and perhaps even conceived it in all its naked
unscrupulousness. When the spasm of astonishment was over there was
a loud outcry. Austria-Hungary had “torn up” the Treaty of Berlin in
violating Article 29. An army, that was ready for the eventualities
that the country shrewdly suspected might ensue, was hastily thrown
upon the Bosnian frontier, another was pushed up towards Russia.
Germany also despatched a large force to the Russian front. The country
resounded with the noise and confusion of a mobilisation, for, strange
to say, Austria-Hungary, although aware her troops would be required,
had made no definite preparations. Stories of Bohemian regiments,
driven into troop trains covered by their officers’ revolvers, ran
like wildfire through the country. Further reports soon proved that
the mobilisation was simply organised confusion. Germany heard and
marked. There could be no war under such conditions. Meanwhile, the
Austro-Hungarian mobilisation was followed by rapid action on the
other frontiers. Russia put troops on her frontiers. Servia, feeling
concerned for her safety, increased her frontier forces. Count
Aehrenthal, besides promising to evacuate the Sanjak, undertook to
compensate Turkey financially for the loss of her provinces. In all
these arrangements it must be noted that Turkey was never consulted.
She had to look on while her territory was taken away, powerless to
defend her interests. This was a matter of quite secondary interest to
the Great Powers, who simply demanded to know what were the intentions
of Austria-Hungary. The winter of 1908–09 was spent in negotiation. The
soldiers, carefully provided with winter clothing, spent the months on
the chilly frontiers, and pitiful letters of complaint of the severity
of the Galician and Servian climates reached Vienna. These were from
the common soldiers, whose lot has always been a hard one. They were
subjected to the severe discipline that prevails in the Prussian army,
but whereas the Prussian gets his full allowance of food-stuff and
has the proper clothing for the climate at the end of October, the
Austrian trooper is, as often as not, supplied with ice-making machines
in December and woollen sleeping-sacks in July. New needs that cropped
up at the front were only met long after the cold that made them
indispensable had changed to spring-like warmth and the armies felt the
inconveniences of an inefficient officialdom very severely.
The young officers at the front, who were well provided with money,
spent a healthy winter. Ski-ing was one of the chief amusements;
they brought the sport back to Vienna, where it had previously been
something of a novelty. Otherwise the social life of the people was
but little affected by the diplomatic trouble that was causing such
perturbation at the Ballplatz. There was some complaining at the
scarcity of men. Vienna hostesses had always counted on providing each
girl with a choice of partners; this year the available men were either
getting on in life or unduly young, as the mobilisation had swept up
the rest. Those who remained at home, too, were overworked, and could
not spend their days in semi-somnolence in the office and their nights
in the whirling activity of the ball-room. It was only a year later,
on returning from the annual holiday, that people began to notice
that prices had gone up. The explanation was simple enough. The army,
after the unsuccessful mobilisation which had revealed all kinds of
deficiencies, began to make numerous demands. The guns they had tested
during the very frequent frontier skirmishes whose history has never
been written were useless. Much of the ammunition was counterfeit.
Stories of corruption touching even the highest officials were current.
Some great personages were dismissed without the customary decoration,
the Emperor plainly saying that he would show no mercy to those who had
betrayed their country. The excuse that they had no idea that a war
was perhaps pending did not palliate their crime in the eyes of the
aged Emperor, who is a soldier _par excellence_ in all that concerns
discipline and order.
The discovery of many lacunae and “discrepancies” in the service made
Austria-Hungary herself chary of going to war. When the chance of a
compromise came she was ready to take it. This was the easier for
her, as Germany, who was prepared for a world-war in the month of
October, absolutely refused to back Austria-Hungary in an adventurous
policy in December. The reason was plain. Germany and her Emperor had
believed all the reports they had received of Austria’s readiness;
it was only when they saw how the mobilisation hung fire, and
realised how unwilling her men--especially those belonging to the
subject races--were to fight, that they saw they had been deceived,
not intentionally, but by the difference between what the Austrians
believed and the actual state of affairs. Kaiser Wilhelm began to
see for the first time that he could not take the Emperor’s word for
things; not that the aged man had the faintest intent to deceive
him, but simply that he lived in a world created by his courtiers,
and existed in the atmosphere prevalent at Courts a century ago. His
councillors, old men like himself, never told the Emperor anything
unpleasant. If they believed that he did not wish to hear it, the
truth was carefully concealed. It is doubtful whether the Emperor ever
knew of the discontent in the ranks of the army.
Kaiser Wilhelm had but small difficulty in holding back the politicians
who sat in Vienna and appreciated his arguments. Modern wars, said the
Kaiser, cannot be waged without munitions and money. Austria-Hungary
had numbers of men, but her munitions were of ancient pattern; her guns
were not fit for active service. Wealth she possessed in plenty, as
Austria-Hungary is a rich country, but it was not realised. It was all
invested in lands, machinery, and other plant. Her subjects were not
accustomed to direct taxation to any extent. The military party could
not grasp these arguments.
A great nation ought not to stoop to negotiate, it said. Why should
they hesitate when their army was over two millions strong?
It is a curious fact that during the negotiations no one mentioned the
really salient point in so many words, nor asked, “By what right had
Germany, through Austria, arrogated to herself the power to disturb the
peace of Europe and to steal a march upon her neighbours in the night?”
Neither country has ever advanced a reason to excuse this action.
The first cause was doubtless Kaiser Wilhelm. In the plenitude of his
arrogance, which made him consider himself beyond all human laws,
he regarded the rights and wishes of others as entirely negligible
quantities where the greatness of the German Empire, which meant his
greatness, was concerned. Every German child was taught that Germany
should be supreme over all. In the schools they learnt that nothing,
not even truth or justice, could be allowed to interfere with Germany’s
commercial progress. The young men who stole into Italy or Bohemia as
clerks and took copies of the names of customers for the use of their
countrymen, were not considered thieves in the usual sense. They were
simply German patriots; men who had been reared from childhood to
consider that the old standards had fallen, and a new German philosophy
had taken its place. This teaching had one object, and one only, the
aggrandisement of Germany. Kaiser Wilhelm was at the head of this
movement. He regarded the other nations as effete and degenerate.
They had no right to block the way of the Prussians, who were a
reincarnation of the Goths of old, and who would sweep everything
before them. Prussians of high standing were not backward in expounding
this theory. The other German races murmured at the “unscrupulousness”
of the Prussian. They felt that men of this character were dangerous,
and that they ought not to be entrusted with the supreme command in
the Empire. Austria-Hungary, meanwhile, chafed at the bit that she was
beginning to feel. After all the delicate questions had been settled
and the terms of the agreement arranged, her statesmen sighed and said:
“This has been a mistake, we ought to have gone to war.”
Statesmen saw that they had placed themselves too unreservedly in
Germany’s hands. Peace, too, had been preserved by unusual means. When
things had reached a very critical stage, the aged Emperor Francis
Joseph stemmed the current that was carrying the country towards
war. He let it be known that he objected to the peace being broken.
He wished to end his days in tranquillity. Such respect was felt for
the Emperor that this was sufficient to turn the scale in favour of
peace. Austrian statesmen, however, were encouraged in an irresponsible
feeling that they might go to great lengths in threatening war
without being called upon to back up their threats by action. The
Austro-Hungarian supreme War Lord could save the situation by a word.
Germany could prevent things reaching a climax if the Emperor’s
petition for peace were not sufficient.
These ideas were radically wrong. The Emperor tacitly undertook not to
break the peace again when he made his appeal. It is certain that he
never intended to do so. But this should have hampered his statesmen.
It did not. Instead of feeling that the Emperor’s pledge to Europe laid
a responsibility upon them, they, on the contrary, felt that their acts
were always liable to be disavowed by the monarch, and that they were
not forced to show the same caution as they would if their decisions
were final. In the same way, they failed to realise that Germany would
inevitably demand compensation for her protection. The noblemen who
held the helm in Vienna were not a match for the calculating business
men who were pursuing a “real” policy at Berlin, and who had little to
do with ideals.