COUNT LEOPOLD BERCHTOLD AND COUNT STEPAN TISZA, THE MEN WHO DECIDED ON
WAR
Count Berchtold, the Austro-Hungarian Minister who was responsible
for the policy that led to the Great War, is the prototype of the
Austro-Hungarian aristocrat, and essentially a gentleman. He was for
this reason totally unfit to cope with the crowd of unscrupulous
pro-German politicians around him. He was brought up in the old school,
and no one who knows him personally would hesitate to describe him as
a gentleman _par excellence_. The fine, delicate features, the slim,
slender hands, and a bearing that has something almost apologetic, are
characteristic of the man. He is the ideal landowner and feudal lord,
able to manage large estates, a merciful landlord who would remit rent
in bad years, a kindly neighbour, and valued friend.
Count Berchtold’s greatest interest was horse-racing, and his large
fortune enabled him to keep a splendid stud. He invariably attended all
the big race-meetings, but he was there merely to watch the horses,
not to meet the representatives of the diplomatic and political world
like his fellow-officials. His eye never wandered from the course
during the whole meeting. Other politicians never so much as glanced at
the horses; they were concentrating their attention on more important
matters. A secretary posted them in the events to enable them to
discuss them when necessary, to keep up the farce that they were there
to watch the horses. They watched their opportunity to slip up to some
great man and discuss some point at issue between them in a friendly
and casual way. The Foreign Minister knew nothing of such manœuvres.
If he wished to discuss a delicate matter with the Ambassador of some
unfriendly Power, he sought him in his Embassy and at once raised
the question to an affair of State instead of ascertaining in a
non-committal way how matters stood before formulating a demand. Count
Berchtold was essentially an honest and straightforward man when he
took over the onerous duties of Foreign Minister, and had no slur
upon his character. He was very loth to assume the responsibilities
of office, and only accepted at the Emperor’s direct request. He felt
that he was not fit to take the helm of State at such a critical
moment. There is not the slightest doubt that the Count was correct
in the estimate of his own powers. It would have required a much less
simple-minded man to guide the country through the troubled waters
which seethed all around. The Hungarian aristocrat, perhaps more than
the Austrian noble, lives a somewhat secluded life far from railroad
and market town. He is brought up in the same way as the old feudal
barons in the Middle Ages. He is surrounded by a swarm of servants,
whom he regards more in the light of serfs than free men. He fills the
obligations as well as enjoys the privileges of a feudal overlord. The
young aristocrat enjoys life. It is made up of hunting, often in the
primæval forest; he is constantly invited to shooting-parties, and
spends his time in that and other manly and outdoor occupations. He is
always an expert climber, can stalk a chamois, and would never fear for
his footing on the most precipitous rocks. He can fence, box, and is,
of course, an expert swordsman. He never knows when he may be called
upon to fight a duel, with any weapons. He learns to speak four or
five languages from native tutors. He must be proficient in German,
French, and, if possible, English and Italian, before he leaves the
schoolroom. He acquires these languages without trouble, often from his
nurses, and learns to ride while still little more than a baby. All
these accomplishments fit him to cut a figure in the fashionable world,
but form a poor equipment for battling with foreign diplomatists, who
have had the advantage of a training in a much severer school. Even if
the education, which he receives at the hands of a tutor, chosen rather
for his sporting proclivities than for his erudition, is completed by
a university course, no professor in Austria-Hungary would venture to
deal with a young aristocrat in the same fashion as with a student
belonging to the middle classes. Thus, although the aristocrat is
peculiarly suited to occupy important positions on account of his
birth and manners, he is frequently unfit to deal with very intricate
problems or to match his wits against those of other politicians. Count
Berchtold was a great favourite in Vienna because of his hospitality.
The Hungarians are known far and wide for their hearty hospitality, and
he even excelled the traditions of his race. He gave entertainments
at the Ballplatz, the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Ministry, close to
the Hofburg, that were unique of their kind. He had a kindly word
for everyone who entered the vast _salles_ that opened one into the
other at the top of the great marble staircase. Beneath the historic
portraits he entertained Archduchess and peasant deputy with unvarying
affability. When he was seen in other social centres it was always
conceded that he was the most distinguished-looking man in the room.
The tall, dark figure flitted restlessly to and fro, always anxious to
contribute his part to making the entertainment a success. But close
observers noted something in the formation of the skull and the glance
of the eye that denoted lack of firmness. He was a man who could be
persuaded against his better judgment. Had he been called upon, like
most of his predecessors in office, to be a mere figurehead, all would
have been well, but under the actual circumstances it was fatal to the
peace of Europe. It is more than probable that Berchtold was chosen to
fill the important post at the suggestion of Count Tchirsky, or some
other emissary of Kaiser Wilhelm, who desired to have a weak man in
power in Vienna.
Once he had taken office, Count Berchtold discovered that all quiet
was at an end. There were constant attacks upon him in the German
subsidised Press of Vienna. During the long diplomatic struggles that
took place while he held office he was accused of hesitation and of
vacillation. He was, however, merely trying to steer a middle course
between the two policies dictated by the two parties within the Empire.
The Emperor was firm in his desire to die in peace. His reign had begun
with the loss of territory following upon defeat on the battlefield.
It was well known that he absolutely refused to contemplate any policy
that might lead the Empire into further hostilities. It was the Emperor
who sent the autograph letter to the Czar in the Annexation year,
begging him to allow him to go down to the grave in peace, and to
desist from a war which seemed inevitable. On the other hand, Archduke
Francis Ferdinand was anxious for a war. He was at the head of the
military party, composed of the younger aristocrats, who were more or
less tools in the hands of Kaiser Wilhelm. They comprehended nothing of
what war meant at this period in the world’s history. They suspected
nothing of the plans of Kaiser Wilhelm, who pushed the Emperor of
Austria into the foreground when he wished the scales to be turned in
favour of peace, and skilfully brought forward the military party
when he wished Austria-Hungary to threaten war. Count Berchtold was
very sensitive to public opinion; the attacks made upon him by the
Press, hinting that he was lacking in courage, annoyed him. They also
prepared public opinion for war. Austria-Hungary was depicted as the
sufferer from a hundred slights--as the down-trodden country that was
forced to bear all kinds of insults. Insults from Servia, insults
from Montenegro, had been accepted lying down. All news of what the
small Balkan States had to endure before they made the protests was,
of course, suppressed. Their point of view was never considered.
Caricatures of Count Berchtold, showing him on his way to Salonica but
frightened to go on by the claws of the Russian bear, were published in
the comic papers. The lengths to which these papers went in turning the
Foreign Minister to ridicule--a deadly crime in Austria-Hungary--was
indicative of the strength of the Imperial Germans in Austria. They
were even able to protect their minions against the Austrian censor.
When any politician showed indications of strong-mindedness and of
a disposition to resist German influence, the terrors of the German
subsidised Press were turned upon him. He invariably had to go. The
Press in Count Berchtold’s case, however, was merely used to bring him
to a sense of his own impotence and to deceive him as to the state of
public opinion. The Germans did not desire his dismissal, although they
frequently had rumours of his impending resignation published. His
being in office suited their purpose much too well for them to wish
to see him leave his place. Count Tchirsky and other pro-Prussians
filled the air with rumours of the Emperor’s inability to rule. They
said that the old man was in his dotage. This sounded reasonable,
although it was by no means the case. Count Berchtold was naturally
inclined to believe these reports, as, although he was very loyal to
his sovereign, he, like many other men of the modern school, could
not comprehend the monarch’s peculiar idiosyncrasies, and was apt to
mistake his religious fervour for an expression of feeble-mindedness.
This rendered Berchtold ready to believe the insinuations that were
cunningly suggested to him that the Emperor could not be trusted with
secrets of State. He might tell all to his father-confessor, who would
report it to Rome, where the hated Italians might learn it, said the
German diplomatists. Berchtold thus entered on a course that led to the
undoing of his country. He acted without consulting the Emperor, and
concealed important facts from him at times of crisis. His tempters no
doubt showed him good and sufficient reason why he should do this. The
course was, however, a lapse from honesty--an honesty that had been
Berchtold’s chief virtue. So long as the supreme power was vested in
one man, that man, whatever his age, should have been in possession
of the full facts of the case. The Emperor of Austria alone had to
decide whether there should be peace or war, and his Foreign Minister
had no right to deceive him on any point. Count Berchtold and the
German Ambassador had guilty secrets between them. It was thus that
the Ambassador got his hold over the Foreign Minister and used it
mercilessly. The country gentleman could not believe that the German
aristocrats around him were liars and were capable of acts unthought-of
by persons of his simple creed.
History will pronounce judgment on Berchtold. Contemporaries see
him as a weak man, who lost his country’s cause through a complete
inability to cope with the scoundrels who surrounded him. He was unable
to comprehend the peculiar art of lying that German diplomacy had
brought to a fine art, the sphinx-like promises that could be made
and interpreted according to need. A man of less honourable instincts
would have been more capable of dealing with the situation; a man of
character might have saved his country.
Count Tisza, the Hungarian Premier, was a man of iron will. He was
frequently called the Hungarian “Cromwell,” “the man with the mailed
fist.” He had fought more duels than any other Hungarian aristocrat,
and his courage was well proven. Not only had he physical courage,
but moral courage as well. Like Count Berchtold, he had received the
education and training of a Hungarian aristocrat. He is an autocrat of
the old school, whose strong will has never been broken by opposition.
Possessed of great strength of character, but educated in an atmosphere
of unreality, he had no grasp of what was really happening in Europe.
Tisza always prided himself on his loyalty to the Emperor. When the
sovereign told him to reduce the rebellious Hungarian Parliament to
order, he did not hesitate to order the soldiers to drag out offending
members. On another occasion he had armed men placed at the entrance
to the House to prevent the entrance of all refractory members. The
Emperor and Tisza both looked upon the Parliament as a necessary evil
that must be dealt with in the best way circumstances allowed. Neither
of them considered that the people had any rights. They were not of the
same flesh and blood as Emperors and Counts.
This autocratic idea, born of circumstances and surroundings, led both
men to act in a most tyrannous way towards the people. Tisza especially
had a profound contempt for the mob. He looked upon the subject-peoples
as beneath contempt. Neither he nor his Imperial master could brook
Notes send by the Serbs. It seemed to them the acme of impertinence
that a nation of so little importance should dare to address the
Emperor of Austria as an equal.
Count Tisza has always been most anxious to make Hungary equal to
Austria. He considered that the two nations should enjoy equal rights.
He resented the fact that the Court was established at Vienna, and
that Budapesth always took a second place. Tisza and every Hungarian
statesmen knew that the common funds were spent for the benefit of
Austria rather than for that of Hungary. At the same time Hungary, who
claimed equal rights with Austria, always refused to take a half of
the common expenses on her shoulders; the Hungarian share was always
a third, Austria paying two-thirds. Hungary is very wealthy, but
has very little ready money. Her nobles regulate taxation and take
great care that the burden falls on the people in the way of indirect
taxation of necessities. Before the war there was no income tax in
Hungary, although the revenues enjoyed by the great landowners are
immense. Kaiser Wilhelm was very exactly informed of the relations
between Austria and Hungary. He took pains to attach Tisza to his
person. Tisza was invited to Berlin frequently; he was summoned to
confer with the Kaiser constantly, while Count Berchtold was seldom
consulted. The Kaiser dazzled Tisza and the Hungarians with promises
of assistance in their fight against Austria. The Kaiser seemed to be
the only man who comprehended their position. An ambitious and warlike
people, the Magyar minority could not be swamped by the Slavs within
the kingdom, or overwhelmed by the Germans in Austria. Count Tisza,
although a very strong man, is not capable of comprehending a character
like that of Kaiser Wilhelm. Single of purpose himself, he cannot
comprehend duplicity in another. Like the Emperor Francis Joseph and
Count Berchtold, he was duped. He desired to go to war with Servia
because, like Count Berchtold, his personal vanity had been hurt. He
could not take an international view of the situation. The great Slav
peril within the Empire seemed more important to him than the fear of
All-German domination.
[Illustration: COUNT BERCHTOLD.]
[Illustration: COUNT TISZA.]
Count Tisza might have done much to save his country from ruin;
instead, he preferred to see the subject-races oppressed. He considered
that a war that would enable the Government to thin out the Slavs, by
letting them fight one against the other, the soldiers from within
the Empire against those without, would secure the supremacy of the
Magyars. He failed to comprehend that the Magyars were to be thinned
out in their turn to make way for Germans who wished to exploit the
rich treasures of Hungary and exhaust her mineral wealth.
Count Tisza was a gambler accustomed to play with gentlemen; when he
played at statesmanship with the German Emperor he did not count upon
his adversary using loaded dice.
The very uprightness of his character prevented his suspecting others.
The man in the street suspected Kaiser Wilhelm; the Premier did not.
The Hungarian aristocrat had never been “up against life”; he had no
instinct to guide him. He fondly believed that he was twisting the
Kaiser round his finger and using him for his own ends. These ends
were the glorification of Hungary, for Tisza is a patriot to his
finger-tips. Unfortunately, he was deeply imbued with the sentiment
that a king cannot commit meannesses. He placed the Kaiser on the same
level as a Hungarian noble.