CHAPTER XVII

It seems now proper to return to M. Venizelos and to consider in some

detail the other measures which he and his patrons at this time adopted

for the purpose of consolidating and extending his dominion.

As we have seen, shortly after the Cretan's installation at Salonica,

the Entente Powers, by a diplomatic fiction, decided to treat his

Committee as a _de facto_ Government. It was not until his countrymen

impeached him as a traitor that the recognition assumed a _de jure_

character, by the appointment of duly accredited diplomatic agents to

his capital. These steps were accompanied by other marks of sympathy.

While the Allies negotiated with the King, their naval commanders

canvassed for M. Venizelos--sweeping islands under his sway: Syra was

first shepherded into the fold, and a little later the rest of the

Cyclades.

A brief suspension of operations supervened as a result of the solemn

promise given to Athens that the Allies would neither by land nor by

sea allow the extension of the revolutionary movement. For an instant

the Entente respected its own pledges. Just before the surrender of

the Lambros Cabinet, on 10 January, the Cretan had rushed to establish

another accomplished fact by liberating the island of Cerigo; but, on

the Government's protest, the Allies obliged him to undo his

accomplishment; though, on the plea that the island would resent being

replaced under King Constantine's yoke, it was made temporarily

autonomous.[1]

Soon, however, these pledges went the way of all words. Between

February and May, Cephalonia, Zante, and Corfu {178} were converted one

by one: everywhere the apostles from Salonica preaching, "Be our

brethren or die of hunger"; and everywhere having behind them the guns

of France and England to enforce respect for their gospel. The

instance of Leucas, the last of the Ionian Isles to be gathered into

the fold, will suffice as an illustration. In the middle of March a

French vessel, carrying a consignment of maize, rice, and Venizelist

missionaries, called at the island and invited the inhabitants to come,

buy, and be saved: they answered that they would never touch food

brought by traitors. Towards the end of May, the French Admiral

commanding the Ionian Reserve was able to announce that the Leucadian

population had joined the National Movement.[2]

To secure his authority over these maritime possessions, the Cretan

obtained from his patrons some of the warships of which they had robbed

the King.

A similar propaganda was simultaneously going on in the "neutral zone"

and in the lands to the south of it--particularly Thessaly--whose

immunity from emancipation the Allies had also guaranteed. Only, as

this region lay nearer to the base of the Franco-Venizelist Mission, it

benefited more severely from its influence. General Sarrail's patrols

raided the villages, harrying the peasants and sparing not even the

honour of their women. Anyone who knows the Greek peasant's fierce

views on feminine chastity can imagine the indignation which such an

outrage would have aroused in any case; but in this case their horror

was deepened by the circumstance that the assailants sometimes were

African semi-savages--the Senegalese whom France brought to Greece, as

to other parts of Europe, oblivious of the most rudimentary dictates of

decency and sound policy. On one occasion (22 Feb.) the coloured

libertines paid for their lust with their lives: a patrol of a dozen of

them was surprised and massacred.[3]

Summary executions were among the methods of {179} military tyranny in

which General Sarrail rejoiced without scruple and with a certain

brutal pride. When once he found himself obliged to justify his

conduct, he wrote: "The six inhabitants of Dianitza, who were shot,

were _Comitadjis_. There is no doubt in that respect. Doubt still

exists about eight others. If they are proved to be in the same case

as the former, they will be shot in the same way. The two men shot at

Lourani were put to death because they were known to be _Comitadjis_.

The other two, whose houses were burnt down, are likewise _Comitadjis_:

they would have been shot, if they were not away: they shall be, if

they are caught. If a church has been burnt down, it was because it

had been transformed into a magazine for arms. If barley has been

carried away, it has been paid for or requisitioned." After some more

statements of the same enlightening kind, the gallant soldier

concludes: "To sum up, the Greek Government organizes bands and

maintains them. The security of our Army in the Orient exacts their

suppression. I have given orders to put to death all irregulars.

These orders have been carried out: they shall continue to be carried

out." [4]

It was by precisely similar arguments that General von Bissing

justified his severities in Belgium: with this difference, that in

Greece the danger never existed. Comitadjis--bands of irregulars--did

exist; it would have been strange if the adherents of the King had not

done everything to counter the efforts of his enemies. Long before

this period the French Secret Service, Admiral Dartige du Fournet tells

us, had been busy equipping guerillas on the frontier.[5] Further, in

the mainland, as in the islands, the Venizelist recruiting sergeants

sought "volunteers" by force: "How many villages had to be surrounded

by constabulary. . . . How much shooting had to be done to keep the

men of military age from escaping. . . . How many deserters or those

unwilling to serve had to be rounded up from hiding places!" exclaims

General Sarrail.[6] Some of the recruits thus enlisted snatched at the

earliest opportunity of regaining {180} their freedom: they fell in

during the day, and at night they fled with their arms.

The assertion that these bands were organized and maintained by the

Greek Government to harass the Allies and keep the line of

communication with Albania open, with a view to an eventual junction

between the forces of King Constantine and those of the German Emperor,

rested on evidence which, for some obscure reason, was not produced.[7]

But it supplied pretexts for action the true objects of which were not

obscure.

Despite his press-gangs, in six months M. Venizelos had only succeeded

in sending to the front some 10,000 men. He explained to his Western

friends that he had failed to fulfil their expectations better because

the neutral zone barred the extension of his movement into Thessaly.[8]

He had respected that zone until now; but now that the Allies gave him

a free hand over the sea, he saw no longer any reason why they should

restrain him on land. Therefore, while the agents from Macedonia

goaded the inhabitants to seek rest in apostacy and provoked incidents

supplying an excuse for intervention, the advocates of M. Venizelos in

Paris and London laboured to clear his way by publishing reports which

told how the people of Thessaly prayed for liberation from the yoke of

King Constantine,[9] and exhausted their ingenuity in endeavours to

show the Entente publics how to break faith with honour and decency, as

well as with advantage.

The victualling of the Allied army in Macedonia, always difficult, had

become distressingly precarious with its own growth and the growth of

the enemy's submarine activity. Were the Allies to go on transporting

food and fodder from distant lands across dangerous seas, with the rich

cornfields of Thessaly within short and safe reach of their trenches?

The seizure of the Thessalian granary, besides {181} helping to keep

the Allies in plenty, would help to reduce the Royalists to despair by

robbing them of the harvest to which they looked forward with strained

eyes and tightened belts. In this wise both military and political

problems could be solved by one masterly stroke.

In April, General Sarrail obtained from his Government the orders he

had been soliciting since January, to go to Thessaly and seize the

crops; only, as the offensive against the Bulgars deprived him of

adequate means for the moment, he decided to put off the stroke until

the middle of May.[10]

Alarmed by these sudden, though not wholly unexpected, developments,

King Constantine dismissed Professor Lambros, and had once more

recourse to M. Zaimis; hoping that this statesman, the only

non-Venizelist Greek whom the slander of Germanophilism had left

untouched, might prove able to placate the Allies. M. Zaimis, as in

all previous crises, so now obeyed the call and set himself to discover

some path out of the wood (2 May). On the one hand, he opened

negotiations with the Entente Ministers; on the other, he tried to

bring about a reconciliation with M. Venizelos--the King being

understood to be willing to meet the Cretan half-way.

M. Venizelos, on his part, alarmed by the prospect of a _rapprochement_

between Athens and the Entente Powers, set himself, as on all similar

occasions, to impugn the Hellenic Government's sincerity. At a signal

from the Conductor, all the instruments of the orchestra broke into the

familiar chorus. The whole Press of France and England rang again with

calumny and fairy-tale. Out they came again in regular sequence and

with unvarying monotony: plots and secret letters, weird stories of

German intrigue, constant repetition of names compromised or

compromising; all ready, cut and dried, for burking any attempt at

accommodation that did not include the return and domination of the

Great Cretan.

It was maintained that the formation of a Government under M. Zaimis

was but a new artifice of King Constantine, adopted at the Kaiser's

suggestion, to temporize by ostensibly throwing over a few of his

Germanophile favourites. During more than five months he had contrived

{182} to checkmate the blockade by drawing on the reserves of food he

had laid up at his depots. Now those reserves were exhausted: he

needed the Thessalian corn to replenish his magazines, to feed and

increase his army, so that in the fullness of time he might bring it

out of the Peloponnesus against the Allies.[11]

Even more sinister were the motives which prompted the King's advances

to the Cretan. While holding out the right hand to M. Venizelos,

Constantine with the left aimed a dagger at his heart: a band of eleven

assassins had just been arrested at Salonica on a charge of conspiring

to murder him--to murder him in the very midst of his own and his

allies' military forces, and under circumstances which made detection

certain and escape impossible. Even thus: "their plan was to arrange a

banquet to which M. Venizelos would have been invited. _They are said_

to have confessed that they were sent from Athens to kill the Head of

the National Government and were promised 4,000 pounds for the murder."

[12]

Day by day it became increasingly clear that the question of Thessaly

formed only part of the larger question of Greece; that behind the

campaign for the crops lurked the conspiracy against the King. A

"radical solution" was demanded, on the ground that so long as he

reigned at Athens we could not consider Greece a friendly neutral. The

Greek organ of M. Venizelos in London now openly described the Cretan

as a man sent to heal Hellas of the "dynastic canker," and expressed

the opinion that the healing could only be effected by "Prussian

methods." [13]

During the whole of May this concert of sophistry and calumny went on:

now sinking into low, deadly whispers; now swelling into an uproar that

rolled like a mighty, muddy river in flood through every Allied

capital, ministering to the inarticulate craving of the public for

fresh sensations, thrilling its nerves, and feeding its hate and fear

of King Constantine. At the end of the month the curtain went up, and

M. Venizelos stepped forward to {188} make the declaration for which

his instrumental music had prepared our minds: "I reject all idea of

reconciliation firmly, flatly, and finally!"

His confederates and subordinates, as usual, went further: Admiral

Coundouriotis: "Neither in this world nor in the next will I have

anything to do with King Constantine or his dynasty."

Minister Politis: "No compromise is possible between Liberal Greece and

the reigning dynasty."

Minister Averoff: "The one and most important thing is that the dynasty

of Constantine should, like the Turks, be turned bag and baggage out of

Greece." [14]

So the Great Cretan and his company had given up at last pretending

that their plot was not directed against their King, or that they

intended to postpone the settlement of their accounts with him till

after the War. Their relief must have been proportionate to the

strain: it is not hypocrisy, but the need of consistency that harasses

a hypocrite. But their outburst of candour was chiefly interesting as

an index to the attitude of the Powers from whom they derived their

significance.

France had long since made up her mind on the deposition of

Constantine, if not indeed on the subversion of the Greek throne.

Apart from the hold upon Greece which they would gain by placing her

under a ruler created by and consequently dependent on them, French

politicians did not lose sight of the popularity which the sacrifice of

a king--and that king, too, the Kaiser's brother-in-law--would earn

them among their own compatriots. Further, a triumph of French policy

over Greece was calculated to obscure in the eyes of the French public

the failure of French strategy against Bulgaria: "For me the

destruction of Athens the Germanic came second to the struggle against

Sofia," wrote General Sarrail[15]; and there were those who believed

that his expedition had for its primary objective Athens rather than

Sofia.

For a time French politicians had flattered themselves that their aim

would be attained by an explosion from within. But it was gradually

borne in upon them that the National Movement represented but a small

minority {184} of the nation. That truth first became manifest in the

summer of 1916, when the demobilization set the Reservists loose--the

Reservists upon whom M. Venizelos had miscounted: their verdict was

conclusive; for they were drawn from all districts and all classes of

the community: the tillers of the plains, the shepherds of the hills,

the fishermen who lived by the sea, the traders, the teachers, the

lawyers--they represented, in one word, the whole population of

military age. The disillusion was furthered by the swift suppression

of the seditious attempt on 1 December, and was completed by the

Blockade, which demonstrated the solidarity of the nation in a manner

that utterly upset the calculations and disconcerted the plans of its

authors. Instead of a people ready, after a week or two of privation,

to sue for mercy--to revolt against their sovereign and succumb to his

rival--the French found in every bit of Old Greece--from Mount Pindus

to Cape Malea--a nation nerved to the highest pitch of endurance:

prepared to suffer hunger and disease without a murmur, and when the

hour should come, to die as those die who possess things they value

more than life. This was not what the inventors of the Pacific

Blockade contemplated: this was not sport: this was strife--strife of

strength with strength.

There was nothing left but force--the danger of creating a new front

had been eliminated by the internment of the army, and by the blockade

which had succeeded, if not in breaking the spirit of the people, in

reducing it to such a state of misery that it now offered a safe

subject for attack. M. Ribot, who had replaced M. Briand as Premier

and Minister for Foreign Affairs, adopted this "radical solution." He

proposed to dispatch to Athens a plenipotentiary charged with the

mission of deposing King Constantine, raising M. Venizelos to

dictatorial power, and thus establishing the influence of France

throughout Greece.

There remained some difficulties of a diplomatic character. Russia had

never viewed her ally's uncompromising hostility to King Constantine

with enthusiasm. But the French thought that this attitude was due to

dynastic ties and monarchic sympathies, and expected the downfall of

the Tsar to change it: they could hardly {185} imagine that the Russian

Republic would withdraw even that reluctant co-operation in the

coercion of Greece which the Russian Empire had accorded; and, at any

rate, the voice of a country in the throes of internal disintegration

could have little effect upon the march of external events.

The decision really lay between France and England. England's, like

Russia's, co-operation hitherto had been but a concession to France.

Neither the Foreign Office nor the War Office had ever taken the

Salonica Expedition seriously; and both departments would gladly have

washed their hands of a business barren of profit and credit alike.

But the motives which had impelled London to keep Paris company so far

were as potent as ever, and English politicians had hitherto proved

themselves so pliant that, provided French pressure continued, the

utmost which could be apprehended from them was a feeble show of

resistance followed by abject acquiescence. Notwithstanding the

moderation England had insisted upon at the Boulogne and Rome

Conferences, France had managed to lead her from violence to violence,

till this last iniquity, to the logical French mind, seemed inevitable.

[1] Zalocostas to Greek Legations, Paris, London, Rome, Petrograd, 30

Dec./12 Jan.; to Entente Legations, Athens, 19 Jan./1 Feb.; 8/21 March,

1917. For a full and intimate account of this intrigue, somewhat

ambitiously styled "The Conquest of Cerigo," see Lawson, pp. 241 foll.

[2] Zalocostas to Greek Ministers abroad, 12/25 March; The _Nea

Himera_, 8/21 March; Exchange Tel., Athens, 16 April, 28 May, 1917.

[3] General Sarrail mentions the punishment (Sarrail, p. 235), but not

the provocation. This, together with other atrocities, is the subject

of a Note from M. Zalocostas to the French Minister at Athens, 9/22

March, 1917.

[4] Le Temps, 11 April, 1917; Sarrail, pp. 236-7.

[5] Du Fournet, p. 116.

[6] "La Grèce Vénizeliste," in the _Revue de Paris_, 15 Dec., 1919.

[7] Such a project is only discussed in some of the messages exchanged

between Athens and Berlin in December, 1916 (_White Book_, Nos. 177,

183, 186)--before the definite acceptance of the Allies' terms by the

Lambros Cabinet. But there is absolutely nothing to show that the idea

ever materialised.

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

[9] See telegrams, dated Salonica, 29 March, published in the London

Press by the Anglo-Hellenic League; letter from _The Times_

correspondent, dated Syra, 23 April, 1917, etc., etc.

[10] Sarrail, p. 238.

[11] For details of this apocryphal scheme see a report from Salonica,

dated 16 May, disseminated by the Anglo-Hellenic League; _The Times_, 8

and 30 May; the _Daily Mail_, 9 and 30 May, 1917.

[12] _The Times_, 14 May, 1917, dispatch dated Salonica 11 May.

[13] _The Hesperia_, 11, 18, 25 May, 1917.

[14] _The Times_, 30 May, 1917.

[15] Sarrail, p. 234.

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