CHAPTER XIX

M. Jonnart celebrated his triumph with yet another proclamation by

which he assured the Greek people that the "guaranteeing" Powers were

there to restore Constitutional Verity and the regular working of

constitutional institutions; that all reprisals against Greeks, to

whatever party they might belong, would be ruthlessly repressed; that

the liberty of everybody would be safeguarded; that the "protecting"

Powers, respectful of the people's sovereignty, had no intention of

imposing a mobilization upon it.[1]

The sincerity of these professions was soon brought to the test. While

penning them, M. Jonnart had before him two lists of persons marked

down for reprisals. The first contained thirty victims, foremost among

them M. Gounaris, General Dousmanis, and Colonel Metaxas--M. Streit had

anticipated his doom by accompanying his sovereign into exile; these

were deported to Corsica. The second list comprised one hundred and

thirty persons--two ex-Premiers, MM. Skouloudis and Lambros, six

ex-Ministers of State, one General, one Admiral, other officers of high

rank, lawyers, publicists--who were to be placed under surveillance.

The King's three brothers--Princes Nicholas, Andrew, and

Christopher--were banished with their families to Switzerland. In

addition, certain individuals of lower class who had participated in

the events of 1 and 2 December, and whose culpability was vouched for

by the French Secret Service, were to be arrested and brought to

book.[2]

M. Jonnart, forbidden by his diplomatic art from meddling openly in the

internal affairs of the country, caused this _épuration_ to be carried

out through M. Zaimis. It was hard for the poor Premier to expel

fellow-citizens {201} who had occupied eminent positions and with whom

he had been in close relations--not to mention the flagrant illegality

of such a proceeding.[3] But how could he hope to argue successfully

against a man who, under the appearances of a scrupulous conscience,

recognized no law? So it came that, after a long interview on board

the _Justice_ (16 June), M. Zaimis fell in with M. Jonnart's wish.[4]

This rapid fulfilment of the "no reprisals" pledge was declared

necessary to make Athens safe for the Allies.[5] It certainly was

indispensable to make it safe for M. Venizelos, whose immediate return,

by a modification of the original plan, had been resolved upon. The

French, finding things composed into tranquility much sooner than they

anticipated, saw no cause for delay. Was it not a fact that whenever

the High Commissioner visited the capital, he met with nothing but

respect, sympathy, and cries of "_Vive la France_"?[6] It was: in all

ages, from the time of the Roman Consul Flamininus onwards, there have

been found Greeks loving liberators more than liberty.

But M. Venizelos knew better. Whilst at Salonica, he used to assure

his Western friends that "the great majority at Athens remained

Venizelist. If proof be desired, it is only necessary to organize a

referendum, subject, of course, to guarantees of impartiality. Let the

King and his satellites be put aside for the moment, let controllers be

appointed from all countries . . . and let the people be asked to vote

freely. . . . I am sure of a great majority. Let them take me at my

word!" [7] When, however, the King and his satellites were about to be

put aside, M. Venizelos, as we have seen, had stipulated for some

months of delay; and now that they had been put aside, he still felt

that the partial _épuration_ did not suffice for his safety. No doubt,

the bayonets which had pulled the King down were able to set him up.

But M. Venizelos, for reasons both personal and patriotic, shrank from

leaning on foreign bayonets more than was unavoidable. He had no

desire to justify the nickname, bestowed upon him months ago, {202} of

"Archisenegalesos" ("Chief of the Senegalese")--an epithet conveying

the suggestion that he aimed at turning Greece into a dependency of

France. M. Jonnart seemed to share this laudable delicacy.[8]

General Sarrail, however, cared nothing for appearances, but itched to

get M. Venizelos out of Salonica at the earliest possible moment. His

first favourable impression of the Cretan as "somebody" had not

survived closer acquaintance. He considered him wanting in courage.

He had no patience with his hesitations. He felt, in short, no more

respect for him than men usually feel for their tools; and since he had

never learned to put any restraint on his tongue, he expressed his

opinion of this "ex-revolutionary transformed into a Government man"

freely. The Greek was too discreet to say what he thought of the

Frenchman; but as he was not less vain and domineering, their

intercourse at Salonica had been the reverse of harmonious.[9] Thus

the Leader of the Liberals found himself prodded back to the city from

which he had been prodded nine months before.

He arrived on board a French warship off the Piraeus on 21 June. But

he gave out that he did not intend to come to Athens, or to call

himself to power. An agreement, he said, had been reached between M.

Jonnart and M. Zaimis to the effect that a mixed Ministerial Commission

should be formed to negotiate the unification of the country.[10] That

was true. With his usual sense of propriety, the High Commissioner

would not dream of usurping the place of the acknowledged chiefs of the

Greek people. It was for them to take the initiative. The

"guaranteeing" Powers which he represented respected the national will

too much to dictate the terms of the fusion between the two sections

into which Greece had been so unfortunately divided. Therefore, he

invited the heads of the two Governments, M. Zaimis and M. Venizelos,

to enter into direct conversations: he offering to act as a simple

{203} adviser, mediator, at most arbitrator. Both seized on the

invitation.[11]

The main question had already been settled between M. Jonnart and M.

Venizelos: the latter should return to power at once. But, legally he

could only return by a parliamentary election, and, as he could not

hope for a majority, neither he nor M. Jonnart wanted an election. It

was accordingly decided that, since no reliance could be placed on the

popular will of the present, an appeal should be made to the popular

will of the past: the Chamber of 13 June, 1915, in which M. Venizelos

had a majority, should be recalled to life, on the ground that its

dissolution, in their opinion, was illegal. This decision--so well

calculated to preserve externals with all the reverence which

expediency permitted--was, on 24 June, formally conveyed by the High

Commissioner to M. Zaimis, who, doing what was expected of him,

tendered his resignation. The High Commissioner thanked him and

promptly obtained from King Alexander a declaration that he was ready

to entrust the Government to M. Venizelos, who only asked for a delay

of two days to fetch his Cabinet from Salonica.[12]

Meanwhile, the news that M. Venizelos was coming had spread, and the

return at that delicate moment of the yacht _Sphacteria_ which had

carried King Constantine away added fuel to the flame. In the evening

(24 June), the crew of the boat, joined by students and reservists,

paraded the streets with a portrait of the King and cried "Long live

Constantine!" The column of demonstrators grew as it went along--the

police being unable or unwilling to check it. Without a doubt, M.

Venizelos was right: the _épuration_ of the capital had not gone far

enough. To prevent surprises, General Regnault, commander of the

landing forces, immediately took the measures which he had carefully

planned in advance. By dawn of 25 June, French troops with artillery

had occupied all the heights round the town: they were to stay there as

long as M. Venizelos wanted them--and, perhaps, even longer.[13]

{204}

Under such conditions the People's Chosen formed his Ministry (26

June), and nerved himself to face the people. Every preparation for

his entry into the capital had been made. Nothing remained but to fix

the hour. But this he evaded doing in a manner which puzzled and

exasperated the French General. It was the goal towards which they had

moved steadily and methodically, step tracing step, through so many

weary months--the crown of their joint adventure. Why, then, did he

not seize it? Why did he shrink from possession? What did he mean by

it? The General did not know. But he felt that it would not do. "M.

le President," he said to him, incisively, "Here you are in power; it

is up to you to assume the responsibility. I have the force in my

hands, and it is my business to secure your installation in Athens.

But I must have your instructions. Tell me what measures you want me

to take." The request was a command. M. Venizelos thanked the General

effusively, pressing his hands. "After all," he said, "it is certain

that people will always say that I did not return to Athens but with

the support of the Allies." Finally it was arranged that he should

land in the forenoon of 27 June. An ordeal which could not be avoided

ought not to be postponed.

At the appointed hour the French troops entered Athens with their

machine-guns and occupied the principal points along the route by which

M. Venizelos was to proceed, while the vicinity of the Royal Palace

where he was to take the oath of office and the interior of it were

watched by 400 Cretan gendarmes, his faithful bodyguard, come from

Salonica. Notwithstanding all these precautions, M. Venizelos and his

Ministers, modestly averse from exposing themselves to the enthusiasm

of their fellow-citizens, motored at top speed straight to the Palace,

eschewing the central thoroughfares, and thence to the Hotel Grande

Bretagne, in the corridors of which also Cretan stalwarts mounted

guard. Thanks to this vigilance, as General Regnault observes, the

assassins whom the Premier and his friends feared to see rise from

every street corner, and even in the passages of the Palace and hotel,

had not materialized. But M. Venizelos, where his own life was

concerned, took no chances: a Cretan regiment {205} from Salonica

landed that afternoon to replace the foreign battalions.[14]

Towards evening a demonstration organized in the square before the

hotel gave M. Venizelos an opportunity of appearing on the balcony and

making an eloquent speech. He reminded his hearers how the last

warning he had addressed to King Constantine from the balcony of his

house ten months ago had been disregarded, and how, in consequence, the

part of the nation still healthy had risen to save the rest. The cure

thus begun would go on until it had wrought out its accomplishment. In

due time a Constituent Assembly would be elected to revise the

Constitution so as to place beyond peradventure the sovereignty of the

people. Meanwhile, the national system had been singularly enfeebled

and corrupted by the late autocratic regime: the public services did

not do their work as they ought; impurities had crept into the blood;

the body politic needed purging. He would put all this right. He

would restore the system to vigorous activity. Every impurity would be

cleansed from it, and pure, refreshed blood would circulate all over

the body politic, giving health to every fibre of the State. As to

matters external, he thought it needless to say that the place of

Greece was by the side of the Powers who fought for democracy.[15]

The next two days saw this programme at work.

A rupture of relations with the Central Empires, to be followed by a

mobilization, marked the end of Greek neutrality. King Alexander, as

yet a novice in statecraft, expressed surprise at the inconsistency

between these acts and the repeated assurances given to the Greek

people. He was told that the accession of M. Venizelos could mean

nothing else but war: his Majesty knew it: having accepted Venizelos,

he must accept his foreign policy.[16]

Not less was the young king's shock at another act of the new

Government--the suspension, by a Royal Decree, of the irremovability of

judges which is expressly guaranteed by the Constitution. "They

accused my father of {206} violating the Constitution," he said to M.

Jonnart, "and the first thing they ask me to do is to violate it." So

acute an interpreter of Constitutional Law could have small difficulty

in disposing of these scruples. He explained to the young monarch that

he could sign the decree without any compunction: the Constituent

Assembly which would be elected by and by to revise the Constitution

would legitimatize everything. He went on to give him a little, simple

lecture on the elements of Constitutional Verity, its theory and its

practice: "In a short time," he concluded suavely, "Your Majesty will

know on this subject as much as any of your Ministers,"--whenever he

experienced the need of further instruction, he only had to call the

High Commissioner, who promised to come and solve his perplexities in a

trice.[17]

The soundness of the instruction might be questionable. But the source

from which it came gave it unquestionable weight.

By the time M. Jonnart left Athens (7 July), he had every reason to

feel gratified at the complete success of his efforts. France's

protégé was installed at the head of the Hellenic Nation, ready to lead

it forth by her side; the regular working of Constitutional

institutions was assured; and the foundations of a democratic

government were well and truly laid. In all history it would be

difficult to find a more signal instance of brute force and bad faith

triumphing in the name of Law and Verity.

[1] Reuter, Athens, 16 June, 1917; Jonnart, pp. 137-40.

[2] Jonnart, pp. 147-51, 179-80.

[3] See Art. 4 of the Greek Constitution.

[4] Jonnart, p. 147.

[5] _Ibid_, p. 160.

[6] _Ibid_, p. 170.

[7] The _New Europe_, 29 March, 1917, p. 327.

[8] Jonnart, p. 159.

[9] Sarrail, pp. 102, 153, 234-5. One of their quarrels arose from the

fact that General Sarrail claimed entire jurisdiction over the

inhabitants of the country, many of whom he had deported to France as

suspects and refused to give them up to the courts competent to deal

with them.

[10] Reuter, Athens, 21 June, 1917.

[11] Jonnart, p. 161.

[12] Jonnart, pp. 162-73, 180-1.

[13] Jonnart, pp. 176-8, 199-201. The Italians, who had stepped into

Epirus, only evacuated it when they made sure that their allies were

quitting Thessaly and Attica.

[14] Regnault, pp. 100-2; Jonnart, p. 184; The _Morning Post_, 29 June,

1917.

[15] Jonnart, pp. 185-90.

[16] _Ibid_, pp.191-3, 195-6.

[17] Jonnart, pp. 194-5.

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Greece and the Allies, 1914-1922 · 第 19 / 21 章