The situation did not clear--how could it? Of all diplomatic fictions
that of "benevolence" is perhaps the most incompatible with the grim
realities of war.
General Sarrail had from the outset been empowered to take any measures
which he might judge necessary at his discretion. But fear of the
Greek army for a time compelled him to temper vigour with caution.
That fear decreased in proportion as the Allied contingents in
Macedonia increased; and hence a series of acts which show how the
General used his discretion.
First, he judged it necessary to blow up the bridge of Demir-Hissar.
He blew it up--thus completely cutting off the Greek forces in Eastern
Macedonia, and, incidentally, letting the enemy know that no offensive
across the Struma was contemplated by the Allies. Next, he judged it
necessary to seize the Fort of Kara-Burnu which commands the entrance
to Salonica Harbour. He seized it--despite a solemn engagement to the
contrary.[1] Then he judged it necessary to occupy the town of
Florina. He occupied it. An appreciation of the efficacy or
expediency of these measures--beyond a passing allusion to the obvious
blunder committed by the destruction of the Demir-Hissar bridge--would
be out of place here. For our present purpose their interest lies in
the light they throw upon the conditions, apart from the purely
military difficulties, created by the intrusion of foreign troops on
neutral soil.
Afloat the Allies were not less vigorous than ashore. They judged it
necessary to occupy Corfu, in order to accommodate the remnants of the
Servian army that had escaped across Albania. They occupied Corfu.
They judged it necessary to occupy Castellorizo, an islet off the coast
of Asia Minor. They occupied Castellorizo. They {86} judged it
necessary to occupy Suda Bay in Crete and Argostoli Bay in Cephalonia.
They occupied them.
It is worthy of note that the occupation of Castellorizo was prepared
by a local revolt stirred up by the French Consular and Naval
authorities,[2] and that the occupation of Corfu constituted a flagrant
violation of international pacts (Treaties of London, 14 Nov., 1863,
and 29 March, 1864) to which the Entente Powers were signatories, and
by virtue of which the perpetual neutrality of the island was
guaranteed as strictly as that of Belgium--a circumstance that afforded
the Central Powers an opportunity to protest against Anglo-French
contempt for the sanctity of treaties.[3]
Among other arbitrary proceedings may be mentioned numerous arrests and
deportations of enemy subjects and Consuls, and even the execution of
some Greek subjects, by the Allied military and naval authorities.[4]
Against each of these encroachments upon its sovereignty the Greek
Government protested with ever-deepening bitterness. The Entente
Governments accepted its protests and disregarded them: International
Law is the will of the stronger. Besides, says M. Briand, "we were
there in a country where force is more effective than anywhere else."
[5] From this utterance, which was received by the French Chamber with
applause, we get a glimpse into the workings of the official Entente
mind, and more than a glimpse of the guiding principles of Entente
policy in Greece during that period.
The reason for that policy publicly alleged was, as we have seen, the
Allies' need to do their own fighting in {87} peace and security.
Their real aim, M. Skouloudis believed, was to draw Greece gradually
into the War. In so believing he interpreted correctly the French
Government's views as the French Government itself had expounded them
to the British Government: "To bring Greece in." [6] With that as one
of its objects the Salonica expedition had been persisted in; and as
Greece persisted in standing out, the question resolved itself into one
of continuous pressure.
M. Skouloudis was confirmed in his belief by the fact that the Allies
would not allow demobilization, and at the same time would not lend
Greece the 150 million francs which had been promised: they knew,
through the International Financial Commission, that the mobilized army
swallowed up every available resource, and they calculated that, when
the strain reached the breaking point, Greece would fall at their feet
and beg for relief at any price: the Ministry would have either to give
way or make place for one which favoured war. The Ministry, determined
to do neither, cast about for some means of making ends meet, when
Germany came forward with an offer to lend temporarily a portion of the
sum promised by France. This offer, though, of course, prompted by the
desire to enable Greece to maintain her neutrality, was free from any
political conditions, and M. Skouloudis accepted it thankfully.
Negotiations began on 20 November, 1915, and by 7 March, 1916, an
instalment of 40 million francs was actually paid. For obvious reasons
the transaction was carried through without the knowledge of the
Allies, from whom the Greek Premier still cherished some faint hopes of
receiving the 150 millions.[7]
Whether he had any right to cherish such hopes, after accepting
financial assistance from their enemies, is a very nice ethical point;
but a nicer point still is, whether the Allies had any right left to
question the ethics of others. M. Skouloudis doubtless could plead in
self-justification that his remaining armed was admittedly a boon to
them, as much as his remaining neutral was a boon to their enemies; and
that both sides should therefore help to defray the cost. He was
impartial. However, his hopes were dashed to the ground.
{88}
On 5 April the French and British Ministers called on the Premier and
informed him that the Servian army at Corfu, having sufficiently rested
and recovered, the Entente proposed to transport it to Salonica through
Greece, and they had no doubt that Greece would readily consent. M.
Skouloudis replied that Greece could not possibly consent. The
transport of over 100,000 men across the country would mean
interruption of railway traffic and suspension of all economic life for
at least two months; it would expose the population to the danger of
infection by the epidemic diseases from which the Serbs had been
suffering; above all, it would be regarded by the Central Powers as a
breach of neutrality and might force Greece into the War against her
will. M. Skouloudis urged these reasons with all the firmness, and
more than all the plainness, that diplomacy allowed, ending up with an
emphatic: "No, gentlemen, such a thing we will not permit. I declare
this to you officially."
"Our Governments," retorted the French Minister, "have not instructed
us to ask for your permission, but to notify to you their decision."
M. Skouloudis was a proud old man, fiercely jealous of his country's
independence and inflexible in his defence of it. Of his iron
determination he had already given the Allies ample proof. But
hitherto he had kept his gathering indignation under control. He could
do so no longer: the Frenchman's speech and, more than the speech, the
manner in which it had been delivered, were too much for his feelings.
"And I," he repeated, "declare to you that my Government's decision is
not to permit this overland passage--further, I declare to you that, in
the contrary event, I shall find myself under the necessity of blowing
up the railway,"--then, in a crescendo of rage, he went on: "You have
left us nothing sound in this country--neither self-respect, nor
dignity, nor liberty, nor the right to live as free men. But do not
forget that there is a limit to the most benevolent patience and to the
most willing compliance, that one last drop makes the cup
overflow. . . ."
The British Minister, seeing that the conversation with his colleague
grew every moment more tempestuous, interposed by asking if Greece
would equally object to a {89} sea-passage of the Serbs by the Canal of
Corinth; and, the Cabinet having been consulted, a favourable answer
was given. But meanwhile the demand for an overland passage was
pressed by the Servian Minister, and was supported by all the Entente
representatives. Again M. Skouloudis gave a categorical refusal, and
in a telegraphic circular to the Greek Ministers in London, Rome, and
Petrograd--experience had taught him that it was worse than useless to
argue with Paris--he reiterated the reasons why Greece could not
consent, laying special stress on the now inflamed state of public
opinion, and pointing out that the dangers of the sea route were
greatly exaggerated since most of the journey would be through close
waters. He added that, in view of the absence of any real military
necessity for an overland transport, and of the international
consequences which compliance involved, the whole civilized world would
justify Greece in her refusal and condemn any coercion on the part of
the Entente as an outrage. He concluded by requesting the Greek
Ministers to place all these reasons before the respective Governments
in order that, on realizing the iniquity of the project, they might use
all their influence to dissuade the French Government from it. England
appreciated the force of M. Skouloudis's arguments and, thanks to her,
diplomatic pressure ceased. But there remained another form of
pressure, from which France would not desist.
M. Briand angrily declared that, under the circumstances, there could
be no talk of a loan. M. Skouloudis pleaded that Greece had not asked
the loan as a price for the violation of her neutrality; she had asked
it on the supposition that the Entente Powers could not see with
indifference her military and economic paralysis.[8]
The plea made no impression; and, rebuffed by Paris, M. Skouloudis's
Government once more turned to Berlin. It received another credit of
forty million marks; but, notwithstanding this supply, day by day it
saw its expenses increasing and its revenues diminishing. Besides the
men under arms, there were crowds of destitute refugees from Turkey,
Bulgaria and Servia to be provided for, and the native population,
owing to the rise in the cost of living {90} and to unemployment, also
stood in urgent need of relief. At the same time, customs and other
receipts became more and more precarious owing to the Allies' constant
interference with the freedom of commerce.[9]
Truly, after the Allies' landing on her soil, the neutrality of Greece
became something unique in the annals of international jurisprudence: a
case defying all known maxims, except Machiavelli's maxim, that, when
placed between two warring powers, it is better for a state to join
even the losing side than try to remain neutral. By trying to do so,
Greece could not avoid, even with the utmost circumspection, exposing
herself to insult and injury.
One more corollary of the Salonica Expedition deserves to be noted.
Since the beginning of the War, Athens, like other neutral capitals,
had become the centre of international intrigue and espionage; each
belligerent group establishing, beside their officially accredited
diplomatic missions, secret services and propagandas. In aim, both
establishments were alike. But their opportunities were not equal.
The Germans had to rely for procuring information and influencing
public opinion on the usual methods. The French and the British added
to those methods others of a more unusual character.
From the riffraff of the Levant they had recruited a large detective
force which operated under the sanctuary of their Legations.[10] The
primary function of these gentry was to discover attempts at the
fuelling and victualling of German submarines; and, stimulated by a
permanent offer of a reward of 2,000 pounds from the British Minister,
they did their best to discharge this necessary function. Hardly a day
passed without their supplying information which, transmitted to the
Fleets, led to raids at all points of the Greek coasts and isles. Let
one or two examples suffice for many.
{91}
The French Intelligence Service reported that the Achilleion--the
Kaiser's summer palace at Corfu--was a thoroughly organized submarine
base, with a wharf, stores of petrol, and pipes for carrying it down to
the water's edge. On investigation, the wharf turned out to be an
ordinary landing stage for the palace, the stores a few tins of petrol
for the imperial motor cars, and the pipes water-closet drains.[11]
In consequence of similar "information received from a trustworthy
source"--that a Greek steamer had by order of the Greek Government
transported to Gerakini and handed over to the Custom House authorities
for the use of German submarines a quantity of benzine--a French
detachment of marines landed, forced its way into the Custom House, and
proceeded to a minute perquisition, even digging up the ground. The
result was negative, and the officer commanding the detachment had to
apologize to the Chief of the Custom House. Whereupon the Greek
Government asked the French Minister for the source of the information,
adding that it was time the Allies ceased from putting faith in the
words of unscrupulous agents and proceeding to acts both fruitless and
insulting.[12]
Were the Allies in the mood to use ordinary intelligence, they would
have seen the truth themselves; for not one discovery, after the most
rigorous search, was ever made anywhere to confirm the reports of the
Secret Services.[13] As it was, the spies were able to justify their
existence by continuing to create work for their employers; and the
{92} lengths to which they were prepared to go are well illustrated by
a case that formed the subject of some questions in the House of
Commons. M. Callimassiotis, a well-known Greek Deputy, was denounced
by the French Secret Service as directing an organization for the
supply of fuel and information about the movements of Allied shipping
to German submarines. A burglarious visit to his house at the Piraeus
yielded a rich harvest of compromising documents. The British Secret
Service joined in following up the clues, and two Mohammedan merchants
of Canea were arrested and deported to Malta on unimpeachable evidence
of complicity. Closer investigation proved the whole affair from
beginning to end a web of forgery and fraud. The hoax ended in the
British Minister at Athens apologizing to the Greek Deputy, and in the
Mohammedan merchants being brought back home as guests aboard a British
destroyer.[14]
Thus a new field was opened up to those who wished to ruin business
competitors, to revenge themselves on personal enemies, or, above all,
to compromise political opponents. From the words of Admiral Dartige:
"The revelations of the Venizelist Press concerning the revictualling
of German submarines in Greece are a tissue of absurd legends," [15] we
learn the main source of these myths and also the principal motive.
For if M. Venizelos and his party had, by their voluntary abstention,
deprived themselves of a voice inside the Chamber, they more than made
amends by their agitation out of doors. The coercion of Greece came as
grist to their mill. The Liberal newspapers triumphantly pointed to it
as concrete proof of the wisdom of their Leader's policy, and held up
the names of the men who had thwarted him to obloquy and scorn. M.
Skouloudis and his colleagues were abused for drawing down upon the
country through their duplicity the wrath of the Powers which could
best help or harm it. The "revelations" served a twofold purpose: to
foster the belief that they promoted secretly the interests of Germany,
and to furnish the Allies with fresh excuses for coercion. And in the
Franco-British Intelligence organization the scheming brain of M.
Venizelos found a {93} ready-fashioned tool: men willingly shut their
eyes to the most evident truths that hinder their designs, and readily
accept any myth that furthers them.
Nor did that organization assist M. Venizelos merely by traducing his
opponents' characters and wounding their _amour-propre_. In March,
1916, the Chief of the French Secret Service, at a conference of the
Allied admirals, proposed that they should lay hands on the internal
affairs of Greece: that they should stick at nothing--_qu' on devait
tout oser_. The motion was rejected with disgust by the honest
sailors. But the mover was in direct communication with political
headquarters in Paris; and his plan was only deferred. Meanwhile he
and his associates with the rogues in their pay made themselves useful
by collaborating in the Venizelist agitation, mixing themselves up in
party disturbances, carrying out open perquisitions and clandestine
arrests, and preparing the ground for graver troubles in the future.[16]
The representatives of the Entente at Athens pursued these unedifying
tactics in the firm conviction that the cause of M. Venizelos was their
cause; which was true enough in the sense that on him alone they could
count to bring Greece into the War without conditions. As to the
Entente publics, M. Venizelos was their man in a less sober sense: he
kept repeating to them that his opponents under the guise of neutrality
followed a hostile policy, and that his own party's whole activity was
directed to preventing the King from ranging himself openly on the side
of the Central Powers. The Entente Governments, whatever they may have
thought of these tactics and slanders, did not dream of forbidding the
one or of contradicting the other, since the former aided their client
and the latter created an atmosphere which relieved them from all moral
restraints.
They only upbraided M. Venizelos gently for keeping out of Parliament.
So M. Venizelos, seeing that he had gained nothing by abstention and
forgetting that he had {94} pronounced the Chamber unconstitutional,
obeyed. Early in May, two of his partisans carried two bye-elections
in Eastern Macedonia, and the leader himself was returned by the island
of Mytilene. Three seats in Parliament could not overturn M.
Skouloudis; and it cannot be said that his re-appearance on the scene
enhanced the credit of M. Venizelos with the nation. Ever since the
landing of the Allies, and largely through their own actions, his
prestige in Greece declined progressively. He was reproached more and
more bitterly for his "invitation" to them; and these reproaches grew
the louder, the closer he drew to the foreigners and the farther he
diverged from his own King. In a letter from Athens, dated 24 May,
occurs the following passage: "Venizelos becomes every day more and
more of a red republican. How that man has duped everybody! We all
thought him a genius, and he simply is an ambitious maniac."
Later on M. Venizelos explained why he had not already revolted. A
revolution there and then, no doubt, would have saved a lot of trouble;
"But before the idea of revolution matures in the mind and soul of a
statesman, there is need for some evolution, which cannot be
accomplished in a few moments," he said. Since October, this idea had
had time to evolve in his mind and soul. But his hate of "tyranny" was
not blind. It was peculiarly clear-sighted, and he judged the
difficulties with precision: "Such a step would not have been favoured
by the Entente Powers, whose support would have been indispensable for
its success." Then again: "If before the Bulgarian invasion of
Macedonia I had kindled a civil war, public opinion would have held me
responsible for the invasion, and that would certainly have arrested my
movement." [17]
It so chanced that, scarcely had a fortnight passed since his
reappearance in the Chamber, when the Bulgars provided M. Venizelos and
at least one of the Entente Powers with this requisite for their
evolution.
[1] See the Agreement of 10 Dec., 1915 (Art. 5), _White Book_, No. 54;
Sarrail, pp. 94-6, 322-30.
[2] Skouloudis to Greek Legation, Paris, 12, 14, 16 Dec. (O.S.);
Guillemin to Skouloudis, 16/29 Dec.; Skouloudis to Guillemin, 17/30
Dec., 1915.
[3] Skouloudis to Entente Ministers, Athens, 31 Dec., 1915/13 Jan.,
1916; Gryparis, Vienna, 4/17 Jan., 1916.
[4] Among the Greek State Papers there is a voluminous file labelled
"Violations of Hellenic Neutrality by the Entente Allies." It contains
a mass of complaints by the Central Powers to the Greek Government and
by the Greek Government to the Entente Governments. Special attention
is drawn to the case of two Greeks put to death by the French military
authorities in Macedonia for having been found in possession of German
proclamations dropped from aeroplanes: See Skouloudis to French
Legation, Athens, 13/26 April, 1916.
[5] _Journal Officiel_, p. 70.
[6] _Life of Kitchener_, Vol. III, p. 261.
[7] Skouloudis, _Apantesis_, pp. 3-11; _White Book_, Nos. 75-8, 82-3,
88, 91.
[8] Skouloudis, _Semeioseis_, pp. 33-6; _White Book_, Nos. 57-63.
[9] Skouloudis, _Apantesis_, pp. 12-14.
[10] Of the 162 individuals who, by the end of 1916, composed the
personnel of the Franco-British Secret Police at Athens, only about 60
were natives of Old Greece; the rest came from Crete, Constantinople,
Smyrna, etc. An analysis of the official List, signed by the Prefect
of the Greek Police, reveals among them: 7 pickpockets, 8 murderers, 9
ex-brigands, 10 smugglers, 11 thieves, 21 gamblers, 20 White Slave
traffickers. The balance is made up of men with no visible means of
subsistence.
[11] Du Fournet, pp. 115-17; Skouloudis to Greek Legation, Paris, 19
Feb./4 March, 1916.
[12] Politis to Guillemin, 9/22 Feb., 1916.
[13] Considering the extent of the coast-line of Greece and the poverty
of her inhabitants, this would be incredible, were it not attested by
the Allies' Naval Commander-in-Chief, whose task it was to verify every
report transmitted to him: "_Jamais un seul de ses avis n'a été reconnu
exact; la plupart étaient visiblement absurdes._" "_Malgré les
vérifications les plus répétées jamais un seul de ces avis n'a été
reconnu exact. Un certain nombre de coquins, incompétents mais malins,
vivaient du commerce de ces fausses nouvelles._"--Du Fournet, pp. 115,
304. Cp. also pp. 85, 270. The French Admiral of Patrols, Faton, and
the British Admiral Kerr, are equally emphatic in testifying "that all
these stories about supplying the submarines were fabrications."--See
Vice-Admiral Mark Kerr, in the _Morning Post_, 13 Dec., 1920.
[14] J. C. Lawson, _Tales of Aegean Intrigue_, pp. 93-143.
[15] Du Fournet, p. 304.
[16] Du Fournet, pp. 112-16. In this work we find a full picture of
the French Secret Service. Unfortunately, or fortunately, no
authoritative record has been published of its British counterpart.
Mr. Lawson's account deals only with a provincial branch of the
establishment.
[17] _The New Europe_, 29 March, 1917; _Orations_, pp. 142-3.
{95}