CHAPTER XIII

M. Venizelos had unfurled the standard of rebellion in the true spirit

of his temperament and traditions. To him civil war had nothing

repulsive about it: it was a normal procedure--a ladder to power.

Naturally, he persuaded others, and perhaps himself, that he acted

purely with the patriotic intention of devoting to the public benefit

the power which, for that purpose only, it became his duty to usurp.

Moved by the ambition to aggrandize Greece, he felt at liberty to use

whatever means might conduce to so desirable an end. The sole question

that troubled him was, whether this old ladder would serve him as

faithfully as in the past. And once again the answer depended on the

attitude of the "Protecting Powers."

Those Powers had hitherto blundered in all their Balkan dealings with

depressing uniformity. First came the mistake about Bulgaria. The

hate of the Greeks for the Bulgars was a psychological force which,

properly estimated and utilized, could without any difficulty have been

made to do our work for us. But that force was never properly

estimated by our diplomacy. The Entente Governments, instead of

enlisting it on their side, ranged it against them; thereby sacrificing

Servia and estranging Greece. To that initial error was added a

second. Until the truth could no longer be ignored, the Allies

persisted in the egregrious [Transcriber's note: egregious?] fallacy

that the popularity of King Constantine was as nothing compared with

the popularity of M. Venizelos--to our detriment. "Two years before,"

observes Admiral Dartige du Fournet, "all the Greeks were the friends

of France; in October, 1916, two-thirds of them were her enemies."

That was the fact; and, according to the same witness--who described

himself, not without reason, as "a Venizelist by profession"--the cause

was this: "The mass of the people of continental {140} Greece was

hostile to the Chief of the Liberals. When that mass saw that M.

Venizelos started a sedition and that we supported him, it became

plainly hostile to us." [1]

The Admiral mentions also German pressure, but he rightly regards it as

a subsidiary cause. The Germans did little more than "blow on the fire

kindled by our own clumsiness and violences." Baron Schenck, the

director of the German propaganda at Athens, watched our coercion of

King Constantine with that apparent indignation and secret joy which

the faults of an enemy inspire, and when expelled by the Allies, said

that he did not mind going: the Allies could be trusted to carry on his

mission. They did.

What their plan was will appear from their actions. We cannot

penetrate into the minds of men, and we cannot always believe their

words; but their actions are open to observation and speak more truly

than their lips.

As soon as he settled at Salonica, M. Venizelos applied to the Entente

Powers for official recognition of his Provisional Government. They

refused him this recognition: but instructed their Consuls to treat

with the Provisional Government "on a _de facto_ footing";[2] and,

while pouring cold water upon him with one hand, with the other they

gave him money. This mode of action was the result of a compromise,

achieved at the Boulogne Conference, between France and her partners.

A feeble and inconsequent way of doing things, no doubt. But to be

consequent and powerful, a partnership must be bottomed on some common

interest or sentiment; and such in the Greek question, as already

explained, did not exist.

At Athens the action of the Allies was less open to the criticism of

tameness.

After a life of three weeks passed in fruitless efforts to enter into

relations with the Entente Powers, even by proposing to discard the

Ministers obnoxious to them, the Calogeropoulos Cabinet resigned (4

Oct.), and King Constantine, having exhausted his stock of politicians,

sought a candidate for the Premiership in circles which, remote from

party intrigue, might have been thought immune from suspicion.

Professor Lambros, who accepted the {141} mandate (8 Oct.), was known

as a grave savant, generally esteemed for his kindly nature as much as

for his intellectual eminence and administrative capacity. But

Professor Lambros laboured under the universal disability of not being

a Venizelist. Therefore, he was "believed to be Germanophile," and it

was "questionable whether his Cabinet will be recognized by the Entente

Powers." [3] However, in less than a week, he "established contact"

with their representatives. It was "contact" in a sense of the term

more familiar to soldiers than to statesmen.

On 10 October Admiral Dartige de Fournet resumed his activities by

launching on the Hellenic Government an Ultimatum. Greece was

summoned, within twenty-four hours, to disarm her big ships, to hand

over to him all her light ships intact, and to disarm all her coast

batteries, except three which were to be occupied by the Allies. In

addition, the port of the Piraeus, the railways, and the police were to

be placed under Allied control.

The demand for her Fleet, Greece was told, arose from uneasiness about

the safety of the Allied armada--a pretext that exposed itself: the

Greek Fleet consisted of only five battleships dating from 1891-2,

except one whose date was 1908; two cruisers, dating from 1911 and

1914; and a microscopic light flotilla. "To see there a serious

danger, it would be puerile," says Admiral Dartige himself; and far

from feeling elated at the success of the operation, he tells us that

he "suffered at being constrained by events to use force against a

neutral and weak nation." But he had to do it: though not a matter to

be proud of, it was a precaution not altogether unjustifiable. He

could, however, neither justify nor qualify the other measures. They

involved, he says, a high-handed encroachment on the internal affairs

of the country--an abuse of power pure and simple: "We admitted

officially the right of Greece to neutrality, and yet we laid hands

upon part of her national life, even upon the secrets of the private

life of every Greek. It was the execution of the plan which the

admirals assembled at Malta had repelled in March, 1916. Well might

the Germanophiles point out that Germany did not act thus in Denmark,

in Sweden, in Holland; that a victor would not have imposed {142}

harder terms of armistice." These measures were entirely the work of

the French Government: the French Admiral himself disapproved of them

as much as did the Ministers of England and Russia.[4]

The Hellenic Government could not be deceived by pretexts which their

very authors despised. But neither could it argue with persons

accustomed to

"Decide all controversies by

Infallible artillery,

And prove their doctrine orthodox

By apostolic blows and knocks."

It could only protest and submit.

The Hellenic people proved less discreet. What could be the motive of

such measures? they asked. Were they intended to prevent or to provoke

troubles? The answer lay under their very eyes. From the moment when

M. Venizelos left Athens, the Allies did everything they could to

assist his partisans in following the Leader to Salonica. Their

warships patrolled the coast picking up rebels, and giving them a free

passage: even entertaining the more important among them as the

personal guests of the Commander-in-Chief on his flagship. But now

they took the movement openly under their direction. With an excess of

zeal which the British Minister deplored and the French Admiral himself

condemned, the French Secret Service at Athens organized convoys of

insurgents which defiled through the streets of the capital escorted by

French marines under French officers in uniform.[5]

The resentment of the Greeks was intense; but the consciousness of

impotence served as a curb on their emotions. It is true that one day,

as Allied aeroplanes flew over Athens, they were greeted with derisive

shouts: "Not here; to Berlin!" another day, as a band of rebels were

convoyed through the principal streets by the French, the crowds gave

vent to lively protests; and every day the newspapers told the

champions of Liberty and Justice what they thought of them so frankly

that the French Chief of the Police Control had to warn their editors

to desist on pain of suspension. But of active hostility, such as any

western capital would have manifested in similar circumstances, there

was no sign at Athens. The only impressive manifestations were

manifestations of {143} loyalty to the King, who set his subjects the

example of self-restraint. At a review of the crews of the warships

taken by the French, he thanked them for their fidelity and expressed

the hope that they would soon be able to return to their vessels.

After this quiet ceremony, bodies of citizens paraded the streets

carrying portraits of their sovereign.[6]

Had there been no popular demonstrations at all, one can fancy M.

Venizelos and the Allies pointing to that fact as proof of their

contention that the great majority of the people remained Venizelist.

As it was, they derived what profit they could from the opposite fact.

The various incidents were attributed by the Anglo-French and

Venizelist journals to German intrigue. The consolation which the King

administered to his sailors--men who had so brilliantly disappointed

the rebels' expectations by not deserting--was twisted into a defiance

of the Entente. The bodies of peaceful demonstrators were exaggerated

into crowds of rioters. And so, "in the interests of public order,"

Admiral Dartige proceeded to land reinforcements for the police: 1,200

bluejackets. Some occupied the town hall at the Piraeus and the

railway stations; some went to the forts on the heights; others were

posted about the harbour, or were told off to patrol the streets (16

Oct.), while a detachment was quartered at Athens itself, in the

Zappeion--a large exhibition building within a few hundred yards of the

Royal Palace.[7]

Under such circumstances the diplomatic intercourse between the Entente

and the new Greek Government went on. M. Lambros declared that he

intended to continue his predecessor's policy of friendly relations

with all the belligerents and of benevolent neutrality towards the

Allies, dwelling on the fact that nearly everyone of his predecessors

had plainly stated Greece's willingness to co-operate with the Entente

on terms not contrary to her own interests, and recalling that the

Calogeropoulos Ministry had set forth the conditions of co-operation,

but the Entente Governments had given no reply. So the Premier spoke

to the Entente representatives and asked that the coercive measures

might be brought to an end, {144} expressing the fear lest, should

these measures go beyond a certain limit, their acceptance by Greece

might become very difficult, and emphasizing the sorrow which the Greek

people felt at seeing its independence fettered.[8]

England found this declaration satisfactory; but before answering it

definitely, she must take counsel with her allies.[9] France, by the

mouth of M. Briand, pronounced the allusion to friendly relations with

all the belligerents unfortunate: she was unable to understand how

Greece could maintain friendly relations with Germany and even with

Bulgaria after the occupation of Eastern Macedonia.[10] And so, having

taken counsel together, the Allies set forth their views in a tardy

reply to King Constantine's last offer. The gist of it was contained

in this phrase: "The Greek Government has several times since the

beginning of the War offered to come in on our side; but its offers,

and particularly the last one, were accompanied by conditions which

rendered them unacceptable." The Entente Powers added that they did

not want Greece, unless she declared, on her own initiative, war

against Bulgaria. It was the only way to gain their confidence.[11]

In other words, Greece should take the field without any agreement, so

that she should have no claims either to adequate support during the

war or to compensations at the conclusion of peace: nay, it was even

hoped in Paris and London that Bulgaria might yet be seduced from the

Central Powers, and in that case not only would Greece gain nothing in

Thrace, but might very likely lose a portion of Macedonia.[12] It was

the old story--to which King Constantine could never listen. He would

suffer anything rather than plunge his country into war without even an

assurance of its territorial integrity. When at this juncture a

well-intentioned adviser warned him that his policy might cost him his

throne, he answered promptly: "I do not care about my throne. I only

think of Greece." [13]

{145}

At the same time, there was little he would not do to remove those

fears and suspicions which were perpetually pleaded as reasons for

coercion. The surrender of the Fleet had allayed once for all the

Allies' uneasiness about their forces at sea. There remained their

uneasiness about their forces on land. In spite of his repeated

declarations that under no circumstances would Greece take up a hostile

attitude, the King was credited with a treacherous design--to mass in

Thessaly 80,000 men, lay up munitions and provisions, wait until the

Allied Army should march on Monastir, and then attack it from

behind.[14] After reading M. Venizelos's own avowal of his intention

to follow up the conversion of Macedonia with an attack on the rest of

Greece, particularly Thessaly,[15] one hardly needs to be told at whom

King Constantine's precautions were aimed.

Yet, wishing to prove his good faith in a practical manner, the King

called the British Minister and offered to reduce his army to less than

half by disbanding about 35,000 men and to withdraw certain units from

Thessaly. The British Minister, delighted by this spontaneous offer,

thanked the King, expressing the hope that his action would be greatly

appreciated, that all mistrust would vanish, and that the Powers would

moderate their coercions. With a remark from the King, that the one

thing he would not tolerate was a descent of rebels on Thessaly and the

rest of Old Greece, and that he would attack them if they appeared, Sir

Francis Elliot fully concurred.

Instead of the return which the King expected to this spontaneous proof

of his sincerity, he received (20 October) an intimation that the

Powers not only demanded what he had already granted, but in addition

things which he could not possibly grant--the internment of the small

remnant of his army in the Peloponnesus and a surrender of arms and war

material equivalent to a complete disarmament. These measures, while

exceeding all requirements for the security of the Allies, put the

security of Greece in danger by leaving her a prey to revolutionary

agitation. The King, therefore, begged the Powers not {146} to insist

on concessions which neither could he make nor would his people let him

make.[16]

Nothing, indeed, was better calculated to excite to the highest degree

the passions fermenting against the Allies than an insistence on total

disarmament at a moment when M. Venizelos at Salonica and his partisans

at Athens were arming. Fortunately a mediator appeared in the person

of M. Benazet, a French Deputy and Reporter of the War Budget, who was

passing through Athens on his way to Salonica to inspect the sanitary

condition of the Army. His connexions had brought him into touch with

the most influential leaders of both Greek parties; and with the

sanction of M. Briand, procured through M. Guillemin, who, himself no

longer received at Court, saw an advantage in reaching it by proxy, he

undertook to negotiate an amicable arrangement between King Constantine

and the Entente.

M. Benazet's idea was to obtain from the King not only tangible pledges

which would eliminate all possibility of danger from the Allies' path,

but also positive reinforcements for them in arms and men; and as a

price he was prepared to guarantee to Old Greece her neutrality, her

liberty in the management of her internal affairs, and her immunity

from aggression on the part of M. Venizelos. Young, eloquent, and

refined, the spokesman brought into an environment corrupted by

diplomatic chicanery a breath of candour. His manner inspired and

evoked confidence. The King readily agreed, besides the reduction

which he had already offered, to transfer the remainder of his army to

the Peloponnesus, to hand over to the Allies a considerable stock of

guns, rifles, and other war material, and to allow all men who were

released from their military obligations, and all officers who first

resigned their commissions, to volunteer for service in Macedonia. M.

Benazet, on his part, made himself guarantor for the French Government

as to the pledges which the King required in exchange.[17]

This agreement met, at least in appearance, with the approval of M.

Briand, who sent a telegram of congratulations {127} to M. Benazet,[18]

and with that of M. Guillemin, who was at last received by the King.

Both the French Premier and his representative at Athens expressed

themselves enchanted with the new turn of affairs, and even the

fire-breathing Head of the French Secret Service declared that the

result of the negotiation surpassed all hopes. As to Admiral Dartige,

he could not but rejoice at an arrangement so consonant with his own

ideas.[19] Thus all outstanding differences seemed happily settled,

and the removal of mutual misunderstandings was celebrated by inspired

pens in Paris and London.[20]

The only discordant note was struck by the Venizelist Press, which made

no attempt to conceal its disappointment. And suddenly, just as the

withdrawal of the royal troops from the north was about to begin, the

troops of the Provisional Government attacked Katerini on the southern

frontier of Macedonia. M. Venizelos had dropped the pose that his

movement was directed solely against the Bulgars: he marched on Old

Greece. Did he by this move try to force the hand of the Allies, as

formerly by bringing them to Salonica he had tried to force the hand of

the King? And was he encouraged in this move by those who were

secretly opposed to an accommodation with the King? Admiral Dartige

did not know. What he did know was that this _coup de force_ was

designed to compromise the arrangement with Athens; and as he could

neither play nor appear to play a double game, he immediately

telegraphed to Salonica demanding the retreat of the Venizelists. At

the same time the King informed the French and British Ministers that

he could not withdraw his troops from Thessaly until all danger was

removed, and asked them to do everything that depended on them to

remedy this state of things. Whereupon General Roques, the French

Minister of War then at Salonica, disavowed the Venizelist action, and

to prevent similar exploits in future decided to create a neutral zone

under French occupation and administration. The Athens Government was

not pleased to see part of its territory passing into French hands;

but, after some demur, bowed to the decision.[21]

{148}

Not so the Salonica Government. M. Venizelos keenly resented this

barrier to his impetuosity. The neutral zone, he complained, by

blocking off his access to Thessaly, forbade all extension of his

movement and prevented him from "carrying with him three-fifths of

Greece and levying important contingents such as would have made him

the absolute master of the country." [22] But the Allies were no

longer to be deluded. They had discovered that "the mass of the people

of continental Greece was hostile to the Chief of the Liberals." An

extension of his movement could only be effected by overwhelming force,

and as M. Venizelos had neither the men nor the arms required for the

enterprise, the Allies would have to provide both. In other words,

civil war in the rear of their armies would not only jeopardise their

security but entangle them in a campaign for the conquest of Greece: a

thing which they could not afford to do even to oblige M. Venizelos.

They preferred a subtler and safer, if slower, way to the success of

their common cause.

Baulked in his design on continental Greece, M. Venizelos demanded from

Admiral Dartige the light flotilla in order to promote his cause in the

islands. But here, also, he met with a check. The Admiral had a

different use for those vessels in view. Many months back he felt the

want of patrol and torpedo-boats to cope with the growing submarine

peril, and had suggested asking Greece for the cession of her light

flotilla. The matter was postponed in the expectation that the vessels

would go over to the Allies spontaneously as a result of the Venizelist

movement, and on this expectation being disappointed they were, as we

have seen, sequestered under the pretence of security for the Allied

armada. Another excuse was needed for their appropriation; and it came

in the nick of time: two Greek steamers at that moment struck mines,

presumably sown by an enemy submarine, in the Gulf of Athens. With the

promptitude that comes of practice, Admiral Dartige announced to the

Hellenic Government his decision to employ, at a valuation, its light

flotilla in the submarine {149} warfare, and to use the Salamis arsenal

for repairs (3 November.)[23]

M. Lambros replied that compliance with the Admiral's request involved

a breach of International Law, which forbade the sale of naval units by

a neutral State to a belligerent, as well as a breach of a Greek law

which forbade the alienation of ships possessing military value.

Besides, public opinion would never endure to see the country stripped

of its naval means of defence and exposed to possible aggression. He

was, therefore, regretfully obliged to refuse the Hellenic Government's

consent.[24]

The Admiral could not let a refusal stand in his way: "It would be

unpardonable," he wrote in answer, "to leave these vessels unutilized

whilst German submarines, heedless of the neutrality of Greece, came

and sank her merchant ships in her waters, thus stopping maritime

traffic and seriously prejudicing the life of the country." [25]

Having got over these little formalities, he hoisted the French flag on

the vessels and seized the arsenal (7 November). The Hellenic

Government's protest against this fresh outrage,[26] naturally, had no

effect. Only the British Minister made it clear that the act was

exclusively the work of France.[27]

Nothing done by one group of belligerents, needless to say, escaped the

attention of the other; and the representatives of the enemy Powers,

besides fulminating against a step which, "in flagrant contravention of

the principles of neutrality came to augment the armed forces of their

adversaries," improved the occasion by reciting all the proofs of "a

benevolent neutrality without parallel," which Greece had been giving

those adversaries since the beginning of the War: the free passage of

munitions and provisions for Servia; the facilities accorded to Entente

shipping; the toleration of recruiting bureaux and wireless stations in

Greek territory; the use of isles and ports as naval bases. Then the

landing of the Allies in Macedonia {150} had inaugurated a period of

continuous violations of neutrality and the establishment of a regime

of terror towards them: their Consuls were arrested, members of their

Legations were assaulted, great numbers of their nationals were led

into captivity or driven into exile, their merchant ships were seized,

and the Ministers themselves were deprived of all means of

communicating with their Governments. Last of all came the

installation of Allied troops in Athens itself and the sequestration of

the Greek navy, now transformed into a definite cession; and,

according to trustworthy intelligence, the Entente Powers meant to

exact shortly the disarmament of the Greek army also. They ended with

a hint that the indulgence of their Governments might reach its

limit.[28]

A more painful position for a free people and its rulers could not be

imagined. But King Constantine comforted himself with the thought that

the "pledges of friendship" exacted from him by the Allies would be

followed by corresponding pledges from them. His negotiation with M.

Benazet had received its finishing touches in the evening of 7

November: the Entente Powers would present to the Greek Government a

Note setting forth their demands in the form of a "Summons," the terms

of which were, word for word, agreed upon between the two parties. By

this document the Allies bound themselves "to repeal the coercive

measures taken up to now and never to tolerate that armed Greek bodies

which had declared to have as their sole aim a struggle for the

vindication of national ideas should turn aside from that aim in order

to engage in acts of sedition." [29]

This clause formed the corner-stone of the whole pact. "It is clear,"

telegraphs M. Benazet to Paris, "that some sort of compensation is

admitted in principle,"--for very good reasons: "The King's sole

fear--and a very intelligible one--is lest his own arms should be

handed over to Greeks who would use them to march on Athens and

overthrow his dynasty." Moreover, without such guarantees it will be

impossible for the King and his Premier "to make disarmament acceptable

by the Royalist Party, {151} which constitutes the great majority of

the nation." He added that neither the King nor his Premier was

unaware of the hostility with which these efforts for conciliation were

viewed by certain personalities: but both were resolved to show the

greatest patience until the agreement had produced all its effects.

The negotiator himself, equally aware of the hostile forces at work,

left Athens with a heart full of misgivings.[30]

[1] Du Fournet, pp. 132, 171.

[2] The _New Europe_, 29 March, 1917; _The Times_, 17 Oct., 1916.

[3] _The Times_, dispatch from Athens, 8 Oct., 1916.

[4] Du Fournet, pp. 138-9, 141-3.

[5] Du Fournet, pp. 133-5, 146.

[6] _The Times_, dispatch from Athens, 16 Oct., 1916.

[7] Du Fournet, pp. 146-8.

[8] Zalocostas to Greek Legations, Paris, London, Rome, Petrograd, 3/16

Oct., 1916.

[9] Gennadius, London, 6/19 Oct., 1916.

[10] Romanos, Paris, 7/20 Oct., 1916.

[11] Gennadius, London, 10/23 Oct., 1916.

[12] Romanos, Paris, 26 Aug./8 Sept., 1916; Cp. Deville, pp. 221.

foll.; Du Fournet, p. 171.

[13] P. E. Drakoulis, in _The Times_, 30 Nov., 1920.

[14] Du Fournet, p. 149.

[15] The _New Europe_, 29 March, 1917.

[16] Zalocostas to Greek Legations. Paris, London, Rome, Petrograd,

7/20 Oct., 1916. Cp. Du Fournet, pp. 149-50.

[17] Du Fournet, pp. 152-4, and Appendix 5.

[18] Du Fournet, p. 316.

[19] Du Fournet, pp. 155-6.

[20] _The Times_, 28 Oct., 1 Nov., 1916.

[21] Zalocostas to Greek Legations, Paris and London, 12 Oct./3 Nov.;

General Roques to Greek Premier, Athens, 2/15 Nov.; Zalocostas to Greek

Legation, Paris, 4/17 Nov., 1916. Cp. Du Fournet, pp. 169-70, 182.

[22] The _New Europe_, 29 March, 1917.

[23] Du Fournet, pp. 135-6, 165, 167, 183.

[24] Lambros to Dartige du Fournet, Athens, 23 Oct./5 Nov., 1916.

[25] Dartige du Fournet to Lambros, on board the _Provence_, 7 Nov.,

1916.

[26] Zalocostas to the Entente Legations, Athens, 25 Oct./7 Nov., 1916.

[27] Du Fournet, p. 168.

[28] Mirbach, Szilassy, Passaroff, Ghalib Kemaly, Athens, 26 Oct./8

Nov., 1916.

[29] Du Fournet, p. 177.

[30] Du Fournet, pp. 174-8.

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