CHAPTER XXI

The Liberal regime, having few roots in the soil and those rotten, could

not but be ephemeral, unless the external force that had planted

continued to uphold it: in which case M. Venizelos might have lived to

weep over the triumph of his cause and the ruin of his country. This

contingency, however, was eliminated in advance by the clashing ambitions

of the Allies--the real guarantee of Greek independence. Foreign

interference, made possible by the War, had to cease with it. And that

was not all. M. Ribot, on 16 July, 1917, had declared in the French

Senate that the changes brought about in Greece would have to be ratified

by a Greek National Assembly. M. Venizelos also had, as we saw, stated

on his advent that the 1915 Chamber was but a temporary solution: that in

due time a Constituent Assembly would be elected to settle matters--a

statement which he repeated shortly afterwards in Parliament: "The

representatives of the Nation," he said, "watch with perfect calmness the

internal evolution of the political life of the country and wait for the

removal of the obstacles which do not permit the immediate convocation of

the National Assembly that will lay definitely the basis of the State."

After nearly three years of "internal evolution," the time for the

redemption of these pledges seemed to the people overdue. In vain did M.

Venizelos endeavour to put off the day of trial by arguing that it was

advisable to avoid the agitation inseparable from an election whilst

Greece was still at war with Turkey, and by promising that the elections

would follow close upon the signature of peace. It was natural that he

should adopt this course: he could not but hope that the fruits of his

foreign policy--fruits never even dreamt of a few years before--would

reconcile the people to his domestic administration. It was equally

natural that the people should be impatient: {218} Turkey may not sign

peace for ages, they protested; meanwhile are we to go on living under

martial law? They demanded the dissolution of the illegal and, at best,

long superannuated Chamber, and fresh elections. The call for freedom

grew louder, more insistent, more imperious and dangerous, until M.

Venizelos took a first tentative step towards a return to normality.

On 6 May, 1920--the day of the publication of the Turkish Peace terms

granted by the Allies at San Remo--a Royal Decree was issued at Athens

abolishing martial law. As at a signal, the Press turned its

search-lights on the inroads made into the Constitution. Abuses and

excesses hitherto held back by the Censorship gained publicity.

Political groups started organizing themselves for the electoral contest,

with every grievance of the past as an incitement to action in the

future. Most disturbing manifestation of all--though one that might have

been foretold--streets and taverns resounded again with the song in which

King Constantine was referred to as "The Son of the Eagle" leading his

army to glory. Evidently the efforts to root up loyalism had not

succeeded: far from it.

While M. Venizelos grew less by his elevation, King Constantine was

raised by his humiliation to a condition, if not actually divine,

half-way towards divinity. In many a house his portrait stood among the

holy icons, with a light burning before it, and the peasants worshipped

it much as their pagan ancestors would have done. It was but the

culmination of a process long at work--a process in which the historical

element was strangely mingled with the mythical.[1] Since the Balkan

Wars, King Constantine had been identified in the peasant mind with the

last Byzantine _Basileus_--his namesake, Constantine Palaeologus, slain

by the Turks in 1453; who, according to a widely believed legend, lay in

an enchanted sleep waiting for the hour when he should wake, break with

his sword the chains of slavery, and replant the cross {219} on the dome

of Saint Sophia. This singular fancy--whether a case of resurrection or

of reincarnation, is not clear--was strengthened by the fact that his

fall occurred on the very anniversary (29 May/11 June) of the day on

which that unfortunate Emperor fell in the ramparts of Constantinople.

The coincidence completed the association between the monarch who

sacrificed his life to save his people from subjection and the monarch

who, after leading his army in two victorious campaigns and doubling the

extent of his country, did not hesitate to sacrifice his crown to save

his people from disaster. Henceforth, even in minds not prone to

superstition, the two events were linked by the same date, the mourning

for the one rekindled the memory of the other, and King Constantine

acquired a new and imperishable title to the gratitude of the nation. If

all the efforts made in the past to blast his glory or to belittle his

services had only heightened his popularity, all the efforts made since

to blot out his image could only engrave it still deeper on the hearts of

the people. His very exile was interpreted, symbolically, as the

enchanted sleep whence he would arise to fulfil the ancient prophecies.

Mysticism apart, during the sad period preceding his departure, the

affection of the masses for their sovereign, intensified by compassion,

had assumed the quality of veneration. Now that he was gone, they

brooded over the wrongs which had driven him, a lawful and popular king,

into exile: wrongs which suffered for their sakes enhanced his claims on

their loyalty. They remembered wistfully the splendour of his victories,

his manly courage, his saintly patience, and perhaps most of all his

unfailing kindness to the humble and the weak. This was the quality

which drew men most strongly to Constantine, and the absence of which

repelled them most from M. Venizelos.[2] The experience of the last

three years had helped to emphasize the contrast: when the Eagle's Son

was up above, there were few vultures in the land; now there were

vultures only. So the name of Constantine became a synonym for orderly

government, loyalty to his person was identified with the principle of

liberty, and the people who had never regarded Alexander as anything more

than {220} a regent, who cried after the departing monarch from the shore

at Oropus: "You shall come back to us soon," hailed the return to

normality as presaging the return of the legitimate sovereign as well as

of a legal Constitution.

This, however, was the very last thing the powers that were contemplated

even as a remote potentiality. For them the monarch in exile was dead;

and the sooner his memory was buried the better. Accordingly, a police

circular, issued on 26 May, prohibited conversations favourable to the

ex-king, pictures of the ex-king, songs in honour of the ex-king, cheers

for the ex-king. And, these regulations having been found insufficient

to curb royalist fervour, five days later M. Venizelos demanded and

obtained from Parliament the re-establishment of martial law, on the

ground that "talk about the return of the ex-king was calculated to

excite public feeling; and then the Opposition might have cause to blame

the Government for not respecting the freedom of elections." The

question of the ex-king, he argued, was utterly irrelevant to the

forthcoming contest: the people would not be called upon to elect a

Constituent, but merely a Revisionist Assembly: "Who has said there is to

be a Constituent Assembly?" he asked.

The answer, of course, was easy: he himself had said so, on his

installation in 1917. But lapses of memory are permissible to statesmen

who mean business. M. Venizelos wanted a National Assembly which would

have powers to ratify the dethronement of the King, the suspension of the

irremovability of judges, and all other revolutionary illegalities,

besides perhaps altering fundamental articles of the Constitution--such

as the right of the Crown to appoint and dismiss Ministers and to

dissolve Parliaments--powers which essentially belong to a Constituent

Assembly. But he wanted it to be merely Revisionist. The paradox made

havoc of his logic; but it no way affected his purpose; which was that,

while as Constituent in its nature the Assembly should effect any

alterations in the government of the country that he desired, as

Revisionist in name it would not be competent to discuss the restoration

of the King, and, if it proved recalcitrant, would be subject to

dissolution by the {221} executive. Consistency and M. Venizelos had

been divorced long ago, and the decree was now to be made absolute.

While these eccentricities prevailed at home, abroad the gamester-spirit

of the Cretan scored its crowning triumph. By the Treaty of Sèvres (10

Aug., 1920), which embodied the territorial arrangements already made at

San Remo, Greece obtained practically the whole of Thrace outside the

enclave of Constantinople, and a mandate over Smyrna and its hinterland.

No doubt, this enormous extension of the kingdom, though still largely

problematical, appealed to that compound of idealism and greed (mostly

greed) which constitutes Hellenic, as it does all other, Imperialism.

But it did not fully compensate for the suppression of popular liberties

within its frontiers. Except among the followers of M. Venizelos the

national aggrandisement evoked but little enthusiasm: "What is a man

profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" wrote

one of the Opposition leaders, voicing a widespread sentiment--a

sentiment which, only two days after the publication of the Treaty (12

Aug.), found sinister expression. As he was about to leave Paris, M.

Venizelos was shot at and slightly wounded by two Greek ex-officers. The

assailants, on being arrested, declared that their object had been "to

free Greece from its oppressor and to ensure freedom for their

fellow-citizens." [3]

The Paris outrage had a sequel at Athens, as significant and more tragic.

The followers of M. Venizelos, like those of King Constantine, included a

set of fanatics who preached that the salvation of the country demanded

the extirpation of their adversaries. To these zealots the moment seemed

propitious for putting their doctrine into practice. "Hellenes!" cried

one of their journals, "our great Chief, our great patriot, the man who

has made Greece great and prosperous, the man who has made us proud to be

called Greeks, has been murdered by the instruments of the ex-King.

Hellenes, rise up all of you, and drive the murderers out of the

fatherland." The Hellenes in general remained unmoved. But some gangs

of hooligans did rise up (13 Aug.) and, under the eyes of the police and

the _gendarmerie_, wrecked a number of Royalist newspaper {222} offices,

clubs, cafés, and sacked the houses of four prominent anti-Venizelist

statesmen. The authorities, on their side, had a dozen leaders of

Opposition groups thrown into prison and, pending their conviction, M.

Repoulis, a Minister who in the absence of M. Venizelos acted as his

Deputy, declared that the attempt on the Premier formed part of a plot

long-planned for the overthrow of the regime: it had failed, but the

heads of the culprits would fall without fail. In fact, one of the

Opposition leaders--Ion Dragoumis, son of the ex-Premier of that

name--was assassinated by the Cretan guards who had arrested him. The

others, after being kept in solitary confinement for twenty-four days,

had to be released for want of any incriminating evidence.

M. Venizelos in Paris, when he heard of the riots, was reported as being

beside himself with righteous indignation; and he sent a strongly-worded

telegram to the Government, expressing the fear that part of the

responsibility for the disorders rested upon its organs, and assuring it

that he should exact full account from everyone concerned.[4] But when

he returned home he publicly embraced M. Repoulis, who explained in the

Chamber to the entire satisfaction of his Chief that the Government had

been overawed and very nearly overthrown by the extremists in its own

ranks (8 Sept.).

Everything that could be done--short of a massacre--to disorganize and to

intimidate the Opposition having been done, martial law was suspended (7

Sept.), and the question of Elections began to engage M. Venizelos's

attention seriously. It was a trial which involved his political life or

death, and therefore required the utmost care and vigilance: one

ill-considered step, one omission on his part might send him to his doom.

He began with the enfranchisement of Thrace (9 Sept.). This province,

still under military occupation and martial law, was to vote: further, a

political frontier was erected between it and the rest of Greece, which

only those possessing a special pass could cross, whilst a rigorous

censorship kept all anti-Venizelist newspapers out of it; and, lastly, it

was enacted, for the benefit of an electorate alien in its majority and

unable to read or write Greek, that the {223} Thracian votes, contrary to

the general rule, should be polled by ballot paper, instead of by a ball.

Another Bill enabled the army on active service, for the first time in

the history of Greece, to participate in elections, the assumption being

that among the soldiers Venizelist feeling predominated, or that, at all

events, they would be controlled by their officers.

As exceptional importance has always attached to the district and city of

Athens--"which," M. Venizelos said, "symbolizes the very soul of the

country," [5]--it was incumbent upon him to pay special attention to this

area. The difficulty was that the actual population was notoriously

unsympathetic. M. Venizelos hastened to overcome this difficulty by

three strokes of the pen: 18,000 refugees from all parts who lived on the

Ministry of Public Relief were enrolled as Athenian citizens; to these

were added some 6,000 Cretan gendarmes and policemen; and, to make up the

deficiency, 15,000 natives of Smyrna, supposed to have earned Greek

citizenship by volunteering in the war, had their names inscribed on the

electoral lists of Attica.

There followed promises and warnings. On the one hand, the people were

promised fresh labour legislation, the conversion of the great landed

estates into small holdings, and public works on a large scale. On the

other hand, they were warned that an adverse vote from them would have

disastrous consequences for the country: Greece had been aggrandized by

the Allies for the sake of M. Venizelos; if she discarded him, she would

forfeit their goodwill and her territorial acquisitions. But M.

Venizelos and his partisans did not trust altogether to the practical

sense and the Imperialist sensibilities of the people.

For months past the extremists among his followers openly threatened

that, if by any mishap Venizelos did not win the day after all, they

would make a _coup d'état_ and strike terror into the hearts of their

adversaries. This threat, which primarily presented itself as an

extravagance of irresponsible fanaticism, was on 7 September officially

espoused by M. Venizelos, who declared in Parliament that, should

perchance his adversaries obtain a majority in the new Assembly, and

should that Assembly decide {224} to convoke a Constituent Assembly, and

should this Constituent Assembly invite King Constantine back, the

"Reaction" would find itself confronted with the hostility of a large

political party which had become the mortal enemy of the ex-king; and he

went on to foreshadow a fresh schism in the army: that is, civil war.

Encouraged by so solemn a sanction, Venizelist candidates--notably at

Tyrnavo in Thessaly and Dervenion in Argolis--told their constituents

without any circumlocution that, in the event of a defeat at the polls,

the Government would not surrender its power, but would maintain it

through the Army of National Defence, which was pledged to a new

Revolution: the Parliamentary system would cease to function even in

name, and many a malignant would swing.

These appeals to the sovereign people, published in the Royalist and not

contradicted by the Venizelist Press, will doubtless seem startling for a

Government whose mission was to establish democratic liberties. But they

were justified by necessity. M. Venizelos and his partisans could not

afford to be very fastidious: their political existence was at stake:

they must make every effort, and summon every resource at their command.

Anyone who was in Athens at that time and saw the Cretan guards, often

with the Premier's photograph pinned on their breasts, assault such

citizens as displayed the olive-twig (emblem of the Opposition), or saw

the gendarmes, who patrolled the streets with fixed bayonets, protect the

excesses of Venizelist bravoes, would appreciate how far the Government

was prepared to stoop in order to survive.

In the midst of these electoral activities, King Alexander died--of blood

poisoning caused by the bite of a pet monkey. Alive he had neither

exercised nor been wanted to exercise any influence over the destinies of

his country: he had simply played the part required by the cast in which

a whimsical fortune had placed him. His death proved of more importance,

inasmuch as it forced the question of the throne upon M. Venizelos

irresistibly: the vacancy had to be filled. Anxious to perpetuate the

comedy, M. Venizelos sought a successor in a still younger and

less-experienced scion of the dynasty: Prince Paul, a lad in his teens,

who refused the offer on the ground that, until his father and his eldest

brother renounced their rights, {225} he could not lawfully ascend the

throne. After threatening to change the dynasty rather than admit any

discussion on the restoration of King Constantine, M. Venizelos, by one

of those swift turns characteristic of him, suddenly made that

restoration the main issue of the Elections. He challenged the

Opposition to this test of the real wishes of the Greek people. The

Greek people, he said, should be given the chance of deciding whether it

will have Constantine back; and if it so decided, he himself would go.

The Opposition, which consisted of no fewer than sixteen different groups

united only by a common desire to get rid of the Cretan Dictator, would

fain decline the challenge. Some of the leaders were ardent Royalists;

others were very lukewarm ones; and others still could hardly be

described as Royalists at all. Generally speaking, the politicians out

of office had found in the cause of Constantine a national badge for a

party feud. Moreover, they realized that the question of Constantine

possessed an international as well as a national aspect, and they did not

wish to compromise the future of Greece and their own; which would have

been nothing else than stepping into the very pit M. Venizelos had dug

for them. But neither could they repudiate Constantine without losing

popular support: to the Greek people the main issue of the fight was

indeed what M. Venizelos made it.

At length the day of trial arrived: a Sunday (14 Nov.)--a day of leisure

in a land of universal suffrage. From an early hour people of all

classes thronged the polling-stations quietly. They had clamoured for a

chance of expressing their sentiments; yet now that the chance had come,

they took it with an extraordinary composure. Even to the most expert

eye the electors' demeanour gave no indication of their sentiments: the

olive-twig had very curiously withered out of sight. Nor did the

behaviour of the voters in the last three years afford any clue to the

use they would make of their present opportunity. Greeks are past

masters of simulation and dissimulation. Openly some might have

pretended friendship to the Venizelist regime from hopes of favour,

others again dissembled hostility through fear; but the voting was secret.

Both Government and Opposition shared the suspense, {226} though the

Government anticipated an overwhelming majority;[6] which was natural

enough, since all the advantage seemed on its side.

Presently the votes were counted--and "it was officially announced that

the Government had been mistaken in its anticipations." The magnitude of

the mistake appeared on the publication of the figures: 250 seats to 118:

the Royalists had swept the polls, to the astonishment of all parties,

including their own.[7] The very men who had fought at the bidding of M.

Venizelos had pronounced themselves against him: having fulfilled their

duty as soldiers, they vindicated their right to live as free citizens.

His own constituency had rejected him. And would the rout stop there?

Among the millions who had submitted to his rule with sullen irritation

there were many whose hearts swelled with rage, in whom old wounds

rankled and festered: might not these men now have recourse to other

weapons than the vote in order to get even with the bully?

For a moment M. Venizelos felt stupefied: the edifice that had seemed so

solid was collapsing about him, and he was in danger of being buried

under the ruins. Then he wisely stole out of the country he had done his

best to aggrandize and to disintegrate.[8]

The result of the elections was virtually an invitation to King

Constantine to return and resume his crown. But the King, not content

with an indirect verdict, wanted an explicit plebiscite _ad hoc_, clear

of all other issues. The Allies, after a conference in London,

telegraphed (2 Dec.) {227} to M. Rallis, the new Greek Premier, that they

"had no wish to interfere in the internal affairs of Greece, but they

felt bound to declare publicly that the restoration of the throne to a

king whose disloyal attitude and conduct towards the Allies during the

War caused them great embarrassment and loss could only be regarded by

them as a ratification by Greece of his hostile acts." [9] This

message--yet another fruit of Franco-British compromise--was followed up

(6 Dec.) by a second Note, enumerating the consequences, political and

financial, of the Powers' displeasure. But it produced little effect:

out of the 1,013,724 electors who took part in the plebiscite (7 Dec.),

only 10,383 voted against the King.[10] M. Rallis, in acquainting him

with the result, stated that he considered it tantamount to a formal

request from the country to the Sovereign to come into his own again, and

invited him to respond to the clearly expressed wish of the nation.

Which King Constantine did, nothing loth.

Few of those who witnessed the event will ever forget it. On the eve of

the King's return (18 Dec.) Athens could scarcely contain her emotion.

All day long her beflagged streets rang with the cry: "_Erchetai!

Erchetai!_" ("He is coming! He is coming!")--hardly anybody failed to

utter it, and nobody dared to say "_Then erchetai_" ("He is not coming"),

even if referring to an unpunctual friend. At night the song in which

Constantine was alluded to as "The Son of the Eagle" echoed from one end

of the illuminated city to the other. But this was only a preparation

for next morning's welcome.

Owing to stress of weather the cruiser carrying the King and Queen of the

Hellenes was compelled to put in at Corinth, where the exiles landed.

From that point to the capital their journey was a triumphal progress.

The train moved slowly between lines of peasants who, their hands linked,

accompanied it, shouting: "We have wanted him! We have brought him

back!" [3] When {228} the King stepped out at the station, officers

fought a way to the carriage with blue and silver dressed postillions

which waited for him and the Queen. He had to keep tossing from one hand

to the other his baton, as men and women pressed upon him for a

handshake. The carriage struggled forward, men and women clinging to its

steps and running with it, trying to kiss the hands and feet of the royal

pair, and baulked of this, kissing even the horses and the carriage

itself. All the way dense masses of people pressed round the carriage,

shouting: "He has come!" or singing the chorus, "Again our King will draw

the sword." An eye-witness had a vision of a soldier who, amid cries of

"We will die for you, Godfather!" clambered into the carriage head first

and fell to kissing the knees of the King and Queen, while around people

fainted and stretchers pressed through the crowd.[12]

And so the fight for the soul of Greece ended in a victory for

Constantine.

The character of this prince has been painted in the most opposite

colours, as must always be the case when a man becomes the object of

fervent worship and bitter enmity. But the bare record of what he did

and endured reveals him sufficiently. His qualities speak through his

actions, so that he who runs may read. His most conspicuous defect was a

want of suppleness--a certain rigidity of spirit which, when he

succeeded, was called firmness, and when he failed, obstinacy. Yet the

charge so often brought against him, that he allowed himself to be misled

by evil counsellors, shows that this persistence in his own opinion did

not spring from egoism nor was incompatible with deference to the

opinions of others. It arose from a deep sense of responsibility: he

stubbornly refused to deviate from his course when he believed that his

duty to his country forbade deviation, and he readily laid down his crown

when duty to his country dictated renunciation. For the rest, a man who

never posed to his contemporaries may confidently leave his character to

the judgment of posterity.

As for M. Venizelos, history will probably say of him {229} what it has

said of Themistocles: Though he sincerely aimed at the aggrandizement of

his country, and proved on some most critical occasions of great value to

it, yet on the whole his intelligence was higher than his morality--a man

of many talents and few principles, ready to employ the most tortuous and

unscrupulous means, sometimes indeed for ends in themselves patriotic,

but often merely for aggrandizing himself. By nature he was more fitted

to rule in a despotic than to lead in a constitutional State. Had he

been born an emperor, his fertile genius might, unless betrayed by his

restless ambition, have rendered his reign prosperous and his memory

precious. As it is, in his career, with all its brilliance, posterity

will find not so much a pattern to imitate as an example to deter.

[1] There is always so much of mystery surrounding the peasant mind, that

its workings must often be accepted rather than understood. But those

who wish to understand somewhat the psychological process which led in

antiquity to the deification of kings during their life-time could not do

better than study the cult of Constantine among the modern Greek

peasantry.

[2] See Vice-Admiral Mark Kerr, in the _Morning Post_, 13 Dec., 1920.

[3] The _Daily Mail_, Aug. 13, 1920.

[4] _Eleutheros Typos_, 5/18 Aug., 1920.

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

[6] "Even if the Opposition sweeps the Peloponnese and gains a majority

in Acarnania and Corfu, it is still doubtful whether it will have 120

seats in the new Chamber, which will contain 369 Deputies; and the

Venizelists anticipate that their opponents will emerge from the struggle

with less than 100 Deputies."--_The Times_, 15 Nov., 1920.

[7] The _Daily Mail_; The _Evening News_, 16 Nov, 1920; Reuter, Athens,

15 Nov.: "Not a single Venizelist was returned for Macedonia and Old

Greece, except in Epirus and Aegean Islands."

[8] We learn that his followers "urged upon him the advisability of a

_coup d'état_. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to

carry out, and with so much at stake for Greece and for democratic

principles generally, it seemed justifiable."--"M. Venizelos at Nice," in

_The Times_, 29 Nov., 1920. But, "fears are entertained, it is said,

that the regular Army--which is strongly anti-Venizelist--may get out of

hand."--The _Daily Mail_, 17 Nov.

[9] The terms of the Note were communicated to the House of Commons by

Mr. Bonar Law the same night.

[10] Reuter, Athens, 9 Dec., 1920.

[11] Another version of this refrain, which might be seen in crude

lettering over a café at Phaleron, is: "So we willed it, and we brought

him back" (_Etsi to ethelame, kai ton epherame_)--a distinct expression

of the feeling that the people, by bringing back its sovereign in the

face of foreign opposition, asserted its own sovereignty.

[12] See _The Times_, 20 Dec.; The _Daily Mail_, 21 Dec., 1920.

{230}

AFTERWORD

In default of a Providence whose intervention in human affairs is no

longer recognized, there still is a Nemesis of history whose operations

can scarcely be denied. International morality, strange as the

juxtaposition of the two words may seem, exists no less than the law of

gravity; and a statesman who offends against the one must expect much

the same catastrophe as an engineer who ignores the other. But it is

not often that this law of retribution asserts itself so swiftly as it

has done in the drama for which Greece supplied the stage to French

statesmen during the last few years; for it is not often that a

Government in the pursuit of practical interests overlooks so

completely moral principles, flouts so openly national sentiments, and,

while priding itself on realism, shuts its eyes so consistently to

realities.

The logic of French action is as above reproach, as its motives are

beyond dispute.

Nine decades ago the Duc de Broglie clearly explained that the aim of

France in assisting to liberate Greece from the Turkish yoke was to

have in the Eastern Mediterranean an instrument of her own ambition: "a

State disposed to turn her eyes constantly towards that Power who has

made her free--to watch for us over the ports of the Levant, to guard

with us the mouth of the Black Sea and the keys of the Bosphorus

[Transcriber's note: Bosporus?]";--it followed that the greater the

client, the better for the patron's purpose. After undergoing many

fluctuations and modifications, this idea was revived at the time of

the Balkan wars, when France, together with Germany, supported the

Greek claim to Cavalla, and it was fostered to an unhealthy growth

during the European War. Hence the identification of France with M.

Venizelos, who stood for a policy of expansion at all hazards, and her

hostility to King Constantine who, preferring safety to hazardous

ventures, stood for Greece's right to shape her course without

dictation from Paris any more than from Berlin.

{231}

By the methods which she employed, France succeeded in gaining Greece

and losing the Greeks. Nothing else could have been expected: friends

are sometimes to be won by good offices; sometimes by the promise of

good offices; and sometimes by good words. They are seldom won by

injuries, and by insults never. It is curious that so elementary a

lesson in human nature should have been unknown to the able men who

guided the policy and diplomacy of France during the War, who raised

her military prestige and re-established her position in the first rank

of the European Powers. Yet it is a fact--a fact which can be easily

verified by a reference to their utterances: they are upon record.

Brute force, and brute force, and again brute force: such is the burden

that runs through them all; and it embodies a doctrine: the Greeks are

Orientals and must be wooed with terror: on the notion, enunciated by

an English humorist as a paradox, and adopted by French statesmen as an

axiom, that terror sown in the Oriental heart will yield a harvest of

esteem--even of affection. With this mad dogma nailed to her mast,

France set out upon her voyage for the conquest of the Hellenic heart.

It was the first of her mistakes--and it was accompanied by another.

Even if Greece were willing to play the part of a French satellite, she

could not do so; for her geographical situation exposes her to the

influence of more than one Power. Italy, who has her own ambitions in

the Eastern Mediterranean, opposed during the War a policy the object

of which was Greek expansion over territories coveted by herself and a

readjustment of the balance of forces in favour of France; and it was

partly in order not to alienate Italy during the War that French

statesmen wanted Greece to come in without any specified conditions,

leaving the matter of territorial compensations for the time of

settlement. Russia showed herself not less suspicious of French

diplomacy for similar reasons. But it was with England chiefly that

France had to reckon. In the past the rivalry between France and

England in the Eastern Mediterranean, though often overshadowed by

their common antagonism, first to Russia and subsequently to Germany,

was a perennial cause of discord which kept Greece oscillating between

the two Powers.

{232}

During the War England, of necessity, lent France her acquiescence and

even assistance in a work which she would rather not have seen done.

But, once done, she endeavoured to secure such profit as was to be

derived therefrom. The Greeks in Asia Minor--it was thought--could

serve to check the Turks from troubling us in Mesopotamia and other

parts of the Near and Middle East. Hence the Treaty of Sèvres, which

provided for the aggrandizement of Greece at the expense of the Ottoman

Empire in Asia as well as in Europe, to the seeming satisfaction of

both French and British interests. But the adjustment--even if it had

been forced upon Turkey--could, by the nature of things, be only

temporary. Owing to her geographical situation, Greece must inevitably

move within the orbit of the Power who dominates the sea.

Psychology accelerated a movement imposed by geography. While France

based her action upon an English humorist's paradox, England based hers

upon a French thinker's maxim: _Lorsqu'on veut redoubler de force, il

faut redoubles de grâce_. Although her diplomatic, military, and naval

representatives did participate in every measure of coercion and

intimidation as a matter of policy, they (if we except the Secret

Service gentry) never forgot the dictates of decency: they never,

figuratively, kicked the person whom they deemed it necessary to knock

down. The ordinary British soldiers, too, for all the relaxation of

moral rules natural in war, maintained throughout the campaign a

standard of behaviour which contrasted so favourably with their

comrades' that it earned them among the inhabitants of Macedonia the

honourable nickname of "the maids." It was particularly noted during

the fire which devastated Salonica that, while others took advantage of

the turmoil to loot, the British soldier devoted himself wholly to

rescuing. Some of these things were perhaps resented by our allies as

weak, and some were ridiculed as naïve; but they must be judged by

their effect. At the end of the War one nation was respected by the

Greeks as much as the other was hated and despised. British prestige

rose exactly in proportion as French prestige sank. And the object

which France elected to seek, and sought in vain, by {233} means of

violence and terror, England attained by a conduct which, if not more

lawful, was much more graceful.

Still, French statesmen counted on M. Venizelos--"_l'homme politique

qui incarne l'idée de la solidarité des intérêts français et

grecs_"--to keep his country on their side. And as in the first

instance they had made the alliance conditional on his being placed in

control, so now they made the benefits accruing from it to Greece

dependent on his remaining in control. That M. Venizelos could not

always remain in control does not seem to have occurred to them. Nor

that he might not always be content to be a mere puppet in their hands.

Murmurs at his pro-British leanings were indeed heard occasionally.

But on the whole the Cretan possessed in an adequate measure the

faculty of adapting himself to rival points of view, of making each

Power feel that her interests were supreme in his regard, and of using

the ambitions of both to promote his own. As long as he remained in

control, France, with whatever reservations, felt sure of her share of

influence.

The collapse of M. Venizelos and the demand of the Greek people for

King Constantine's return, came to French statesmen as a painful

surprise. That they had for several years been laboriously building on

illusions could not be disguised, and being made to look absurd before

those of their own compatriots who had all along advocated a policy

based on the preservation and exploitation of Turkey, rendered the

situation doubly awkward. Unable to rise above personal pique, they

would fain veto the return of a prince whom they hated and whom they

had wronged beyond hope of conciliation. England, however, free from

petty animosities, and sensible that, under whatever ruler, Greece

would be with her, refused to sanction lawlessness in the midst of

peace; and her view that, if the Greeks wanted Constantine, it was

their business and not ours, prevailed. But, on the other hand, by way

of compromise, France obtained that he should return to an empty

treasury, with foreign credits cut off, and the loans made by the

Allies to the Venizelist Government, to facilitate the waging of a

common war against Turkey, revoked.

It was an impossible position which King Constantine was called upon to

face: a position none of his own making, {234} yet one from which there

was no retreat. The Greek people's imperialism had been roused. The

leaders who once criticized M. Venizelos's Asiatic policy as a

dangerous dream, opposed to economic, strategic, and ethnic realities,

might still hold those views and mutter in secret that Smyrna would

prove the grave of Greece; but they no longer dared express them, out

of deference to public opinion. To the masses M. Venizelos's wild game

of chance seemed vindicated by its results, and while they rejected the

man they clung to his work.

The Greek Government had no choice but to carry on the conflict under

enormous disadvantages. As France anticipated, with foreign credits

cut off and a progressive fall in the exchange, the expense of

maintaining a large army on a war footing proved too heavy for the

National Exchequer. And that was not the worst. France, who since the

Armistice had betrayed a keen jealousy of England's place in a part of

the world in which she claims special rights, presently concluded a

separate agreement with Turkey--an example in which she was followed by

Italy--and gave the Turks her moral and material support in their

struggle with the Greeks; while England, though refusing to reverse her

policy in favour of their enemies, contented herself with giving the

Greeks only a platonic encouragement, which they were unwise enough to

take for more than it was worth.

Everyone knows the melancholy sequel: our unhappy "allies," left to

their own exhausted resources, were driven from the Asiatic territories

which in common prudence they should never have entered; and the

overseas Empire which M. Venizelos had conjured up vanished in smoke.

The rout in Asia Minor had its repercussion in Greece. For nearly two

years the people, though war-worn and on the edge of bankruptcy, bore

the financial as they had borne the famine blockade, trusting that

England would at any moment come forth to counter the vindictiveness of

France, and sturdily resisted all the efforts of the Venizelist party

to shake the stability of the Royalist regime: Constantine again

appeared in their eyes as a victim of the Cretan's intrigues. But the

loss of Ionia and the danger of the loss of Thrace; the horror and

{235} despair arising from the sack of Smyrna, whence shiploads of

broken refugees fled to the Greek ports; all this, reinforced by an

idea that the maintenance of the King on the throne prevented the

effective expression of British friendship and his fall would remove

French hostility, created conditions before which questions of

personalities for once faded into insignificance, and put into the

hands of M. Venizelos's partisans an irresistible lever.

On 26 September an army of 15,000 insurgent soldiers landed near Athens

and demanded the abdication of the King. The loyal troops were ready

to meet force by force. But the King, in order to avert a fratricidal

struggle which would have dealt Greece the finishing stroke, forbade

opposition and immediately abdicated, "happy," as he said, "that

another opportunity has been given me to sacrifice myself once more for

Greece." In fact, once more Constantine was made the scape-goat for

disasters for which he was in no way responsible--disasters from which

he would undoubtedly have saved his country, had he been allowed to

pursue his own sober course.

M. Venizelos would not go back to Athens until the excitement subsided,

lest people should think, he said, that he had had any part in the

revolution: but undertook the defence of the national interests in the

Entente capitals. His mission was to obtain such support as would

enable him to save Greece something out of the ruin which his insane

imperialism had brought upon her, so that he might be in a position to

point out to his countrymen that he alone, after the disastrous failure

of Constantine, had been able to secure their partial rehabilitation.

That accomplished, he might then hope to become a perpetual Prime

Minister or President.

France made it quite clear that no changes in Greece could alter her

policy: however satisfied she might be at the second disappearance of

the antipathetic monarch, it should not be supposed that, even were a

Republic to be set up, presided over by the Great Cretan, her attitude

on territorial questions would be transformed: Thrace, after Ionia,

must revert to Turkey. French statesmen longed for the complete

demolition of their own handiwork. M. Poincaré, in 1922, was proud to

do what the Duc de Broglie ninety years before scoffed at as an {236}

unthinkable folly: "_Abandonner la Grèce aujourd'hui, détruire de nos

propres mains l'ouvrage que nos propres mains ont presque achevé!_"

England's expressed attitude was not characterized by a like precision.

It is true that after the Greek debacle she dispatched ships and troops

to prevent the Straits from falling into the hands of the Turks; but in

the matter of Thrace she had already yielded to France: and how the

restoration of Turkish rule in Europe can be reconciled with the

freedom of the Straits remains to be seen.

What the future may have in store for Greece and Turkey is a matter of

comparatively small account. What is of great and permanent importance

is the divergence between the paths of France and England revealed by

the preceding analysis of events.

From this analysis have been carefully excluded such superficial

dissensions as always arise between allies after a war, and were

especially to be expected after a war in which every national

susceptibility was quickened to a morbid degree: they belong to a

different category from the profound antagonisms under consideration.

These--whatever the philosopher may think of a struggle for

domination--present a problem which British statesmen must face

frankly. It is not a new problem; but it now appears under a new form

and in a more acute phase than it has ever possessed in the

past--thanks to the success of the "knock-out blow" policy which

governed the latter stages of the War.

With the German power replaced by the French, the Russian for the

moment in abeyance, French and Italian influences competing in Turkey,

French and British aims clashing in the Arab regions wrested from

Turkey--while indignation at Occidental interference surges in the

minds of all the peoples of the Orient--the Eastern Mediterranean

offers a situation which tempts one to ask whether the authors of that

policy have not succeeded too well? Whether in pursuing the success of

the day--to which their personal reputations were attached--they did

not lose sight of the morrow? Whether they have not scattered the seed

without sufficiently heeding the crop? However that may be, unless

this situation was clearly foreseen by its creators and provided for--a

hypothesis {237} which, with the utmost goodwill towards them, does not

appear very probable--they have an anxious task--a task that, under

these conditions, demands from British statesmanship more thinking

about the Near Eastern question and the Greek factor in it than was

necessary before 1914.

As a first aid to an appreciation of the problem by the public--which

the present crisis found utterly unprepared--it would have been well if

the fundamental differences between the respective attitudes of France

and England towards each other and towards the peoples concerned had

been candidly acknowledged, and all pretence of Franco-British

co-operation in the Near East abandoned. Lasting co-operation cannot

be where there is neither community of interests nor consonance of

ideas: where the loss of one party is welcomed as gain by the other,

and the wisdom of the one in the eyes of the other is folly. Pious

talk of a common Allied mission in the Near East has only served to

obscure issues and to render confusion in the public mind worse

confounded. It was idle to make a mystery of the support given by

France to the Turks and of her insistence on the revision of the Sèvres

Treaty--preliminary steps to her demand for the evacuation of Chanak

and the consequent elimination of British sea-power. The object of

these tactics was evident to every serious student of history: France

pursues now the plan laid down by Louis XIV, continued by Napoleon,

fitfully carried on throughout the nineteenth century, and facilitated

by her installation in Syria--the equivalent of the German _Drang nach

Osten_: a plan incompatible with the safety of the British Empire in

the East. This is the truth of the matter, and nothing has been gained

by hiding it.

The people who fought a ruinous war without quite knowing the ends

aimed at, had a right to know at least the results obtained; and after

France's separate agreement with Turkey, the denial to them of any part

of that knowledge could not be justified on any principle of honour or

plea of expediency.

{239}

INDEX

Achilleion, 92

Albania, Suggested partition of, 19

Alexander, King, 197, 203, 205-7, 219, 224

Andrew, Prince, 123, 200

Asia Minor, Concessions to Greece in, 19, 22-26, 32, 34, 35, 37,

221, 232.

---- ----, Greeks driven from, 234

Athens, Naval demonstrations against, 82, 102, 110, 111

----, Fighting at, 159-161

----, Bombardment of, 160

----, Occupation of, 204

----, Conspiracy at, 216

----, Riots at, 221, 222

---- electorate, 223

Austria and Greece, 9

---- and Servia, 7, 17, 22

Averoff, M., 183

---- gaol, 209

Balkan League, 4, 19, 20, 24, 27

Benazet, M., Negotiation of, 146, 147, 150-152

Blockades, 82, 101, 164, 172-176, 184

Boulogne, Conference at, 140, 185

Bratiano, M., 22

Briand, M., 76, 86, 89, 100-103, 105, 116, 131, 132, 146

Broglie, Due de, 188, 230, 235

Bucharest Treaty, 7-9, 18

----, Conference at, 18

Bulgaria and Greece, 7, 8, 21, 23, 67

---- ---- Servia, 7, 17, 21, 62

---- ---- Turkey, 21, 52

---- ---- Central Powers, 27, 40

---- ---- Entente, 21, 28, 38, 40, 43, 57, 60, 66, 144

Bülow, Prince von, 47

Callimassiotis, M., 92

Calogeropoulos, M., Premier, 124-132, 140, 192

Canea, 92, 128, 130, 132

Castellorizo, 85, 86

Castoria, Metropolitan of, 209

Cavalla allotted to Greece, 10, 230

----, Proposed cession of, to Bulgaria. 20, 23-25, 39, 41-42

---- surrendered to Germano-Bulgars, 118-21

Cephalonia, 86, 177

Cerigo, 177

Chanak, 237

Chios, 130

Church, Greek, 175, 176, 208, 209

Churchill, Mr. Winston, 13

Cochin, M. Denys, 81

Constantine, King: his popularity, 1, 2, 75, 131, 175, 198, 218-220

----, ----; policy, 5, 8-12, 13, 14, 15, 19, 34, 35, 38, 55, 81,

114, 124, 144, 146, 150, 156, 181, 230

----, ----: defeat in 1897, 1, 74

----, ----, and M. Venizelos, 5, 14, 15, 53-57, 115, 133, 145, 181

----, ----, and the Kaiser, 9, 10, 56, 69, 95, 96, 170

----, ----, Agitation against, 70, 121, 127, 143, 145, 167, 181, 182

----, ----: dethronement, 186, 191-199

----, ----: restoration, 227, 228

----, ----: character, 198, 199, 228

----, ----: abdication, 235

Constantinople, Russia and, 31, 32

Constitution, Greek, 70-74, 191, 201, 205, 220

Corfu, 85, 86, 91, 177

Corinth, 186, 190, 192, 195, 227

Coundouriotis, Admiral, 103, 131, 133, 183, 209

{240}

Crete, 2, 86, 128, 130, 133-136, 208

Crewe, Lord, 41, 42

Crimean War, 103

Crown Councils, 29, 68, 170, 192

Cuninghame, Sir Thomas, 82

Cyprus, 66, 75

Danglis, General, 133

Dardanelles, 14, 15, 27-31, 34, 59, 72. _See also_ "Gallipoli"

Dartige du Fournet, Admiral, 91, 92, 110, 112, 129, 130,

131, 139, 141, 143, 147, 148, 149, 152, 153-160, 163-164

Delcassé, M., 32, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 46, 76

Delyannis, M., 74

Demidoff, Prince, Russian Minister at Athens, 32, 35, 104, 112

Demir-Hissar, Bridge of, 85

Deville, M., quoted, 13, 28, 40, 51, 57

Dimitracopoulos, M., 123, 192

Dousmanis, General, 81, 112, 200

Dova-tépé, Fort, 99

Dragoumis, Ex-Premier, 192, 210

----, Ion, 222

Drama, 109, 118, 121

Elections of June, 1915, 33, 50

---- ---- December, 1915, 75

---- demanded and eluded (June-September, 1916), 102, 106-108,

114, 115, 123

---- of November, 1920, 222-226

Eleusis, 111, 174

Elliot, Sir Francis, British Minister at Athens, 35, 88, 104,

114, 117, 123, 125, 128, 142, 145, 149, 156, 165

England, Policy of, 13, 20, 22, 31, 42, 56, 77, 102, 104, 106,

128, 144, 185, 186, 232-234, 236

Esslin, M., 209

Evangelismos hospital, 210

Falkenhayn, General von, 95-97

Fleet, Greek, 131, 141, 148, 149

Florina, 85

France, Policy of, 13, 31, 46, 77, 87, 103, 129, 144, 153, 155,

183-185, 230, 231, 233-235, 237

Gallipoli, 14, 30, 31, 36, 43, 50, 63, 73. _See also_

"Dardanelles"

Gauchet, Admiral, 164, 190

George, King of Greece, 71

----, Prince, 35, 38-40, 134-137, 156, 211

Gerakini, 91

Germany and Greece, 11, 87, 89, 95-98, 121, 122

Goerlitz, Greek troops interned at, 121

Gounaris, M., Premier, 33-46, 200

Grey, Sir Edward, 22, 23, 25, 35, 56, 59, 60, 66, 101, 102

"Guarantee" of Greek constitution, 187-189

Guillemin, M., French Minister at Athens, 37, 56, 61, 82, 88,

102, 104, 106, 110, 117, 118, 129, 146, 152, 164

Hamilton, General, 59

Hatzopoulos, Colonel, 108, 118-121

Hautefeuille, M., 172

Hindenburg, Field-Marshal von, 118, 119, 121, 170

Holy Synod, Appeals from, 176

---- ---- deposed, 208

Ionia, 234, 235

Italian troops in Macedonia, 108

---- ---- ---- Epirus, 203

---- policy, 231, 234

Jagow, Von, 97

Jonnart, M., his mission to Greece, 186, 189-206

Kaiser, The, and King Constantine, 9, 10, 117, 180, 181

----, ----, ---- Queen Sophie, 169, 170

Kara-Burnu, 85

{241}

Katerini, 96, 147

Kerr, Admiral Mark, 10, 14, 15, 219

Kitchener, Lord, 13

----, ----, on French policy, 76

----, ----, in Greece, 81

Krivolak, 79, 95

Lambros, Prof., Premier, 141, 143, 149, 154, 158, 181, 200, 210

Larissa, 118

Lemnos, 58, 130

Leucas, 178

London, Treaties of (1863 and 1864), 86

----, Conference in, 186

Macedonia, Allies in, 76-80, 82-85, 108

----, Germano-Bulgarian invasion of, 94, 97, 98, 108, 109

----, Elections in, 94, 109

----, British soldiers' conduct in, 232

Mercati, M., 55, 56

Metaxas, Colonel, 29, 8l, 112, 200

Milne, General, 101

Milo, 82, 111

Monastir, 67, 77, 95, 145

Moschopoulos, General, 59, 82

Moudros, 58

Mytilene, 58, 94, 130, 133, 208

Near East, Franco-British rivalry in, 231, 237

Neutral zone, 147, 148, 168, 178, 180

Nicholas, Prince, 123, 200

Oropus, 220

Otho, King, 103, 125, 187

Painlevé, M., 186

Palaeologus, Emperor Constantine, Legend of, 218

Passitch, M., 18, 40, 42, 51

Paul, Prince, 224

Peloponnesus, 146, 167, 169, 171, 192, 195

Phaleron, 198

Piraeus, 103, 110, 120, 127, 141, 143, 159, 165, 176, 190, 202, 213

Poincaré, M., 38, 40, 235

Politis, M., 47, 183

Rallis, M., 30, 80, 210, 227

Regnault, General, 190, 203, 204

Repoulis, M., 222

Reservists, 107, 117, 127, 171, 184, 203

Ribot, M., 184, 186, 190, 217

Rome, Conference at, 169, 185

Roques, General, 147, 152

Rufos, M., 209

Rumania, 9, 10, 18, 21-24, 113, 116

Rupel, 97, 98, 99, 210

Russia and Greece, 31, 32, 43, 104, 126, 157, 184, 185, 189

---- ---- Bulgaria, 62

---- ---- Servia, 18

---- ---- Turkey, 19, 27

Salamis, 111, 149, 190, 195

Salisbury, Lord, on Greek policy in 1897, 74

Salonica, Allies' landing at, 56, 58-62, 64, 74

---- in state of siege, 100

----, Revolt at, 110

----, Fire at, 232

Samos, 130, 133

San Remo, 218

Sarrail, General, 79, 82, 99, 100, 102, 106, 107, 108, 110, 164,

178, 179, 181, 183, 202

Sazonow, M., 18, 19, 31

Schenck, Baron, 140

Secret Services, French and British, 90-93, 107, 112, 117,

127-130, 179

Serres, 109, 118, 120

Servia, Greek alliance with, 7, 8, 17, 33, 51, 52, 55, 58, 65, 66

----, Entente and, 18, 22, 23, 40, 41, 42, 51

Sèvres, Treaty of, 221, 232, 237

Skouloudis, M., Premier, 69

---- and Entente, 77-79, 8l-84, 88, 89, 99, 100

---- ---- Germany, 87, 89, 95-98

{242}

Skouloudis, M., Premier, placed under surveillance, 200

---- impeached, 209, 210

Smyrna, 35, 36, 221, 223, 234, 235

Sophie, Queen, 160, 169, 170, 173

Staff, Greek General: Dardanelles, Plans of, 15, 16

----, ---- ----, and Servia, 17, 40, 41, 49, 52

----, ---- ----, ---- King Constantine, 13, 31, 35, 72, 73

----, ---- ----, ---- M. Venizelos, 25, 28, 29, 45, 55, 62, 73, 81

----, ---- ----, ---- Lord Kitchener, 81

----, ---- ----, on Gallipoli enterprise, 28, 29, 31, 36, 47

----, ---- ----, opposed to Asiatic expansion, 25, 26

Straits, Russia and the, 31

----, France and the, 230

----, England and the, 236

Stratos, M., 192, 193

Streit, M., 8, 12, 13, 15, 34, 45, 112, 200

Struma, 85, 97

Submarines, German, Alleged fuelling of, 90-92

Suda Bay, 86, 128, 133

Syngros gaol, 209

Syra, 177

Syria, 237

Talaat Bey, 18

Tatoi, 53, 55

Thasos, 120, 130

Therisos movement, 134, 136

Thessaly, 145, 147, 168, 178, 180, 181, 186, 190, 192

Thrace, 19, 221, 222, 234, 235, 236

Turkey and Entente, 4, 13, 19, 232, 233, 235, 236

Turkey and Germany, 10, 13, 18, 19

---- ---- Bulgaria, 19, 52

---- ---- Greece, 13, 18, 19, 217, 218, 232, 233, 234

Venizelos, Eleutherios: early career, 2-5, 133-136

----, and King Constantine, 5, 14, 15, 29, 50, 53-57, 109, 110,

136, 137, 183, 220, 225.

----: policy, 7, 8, 12-14, 20, 21-27, 28-32, 51, 53, 55, 61, 68,

127, 205, 207, 221, 230

----: first resignation, 31

----: return to power, 50

----: popularity, 5, 50

----: second resignation, 63

----: unpopularity, 75, 94, 107, 108, 175, 176

----: agitation, 44-48, 70-74, 92-94, 99, 127

----: rebellion, 106, 110, 128-131, 133, 136-138

----: Salonica Government, 133, 140, 147, 148, 168, 169, 174,

177, 178

----: anathematization, 175

----: elevation, 202-206

----: rule, 207-216

----: attempt on his life, 221

----: fall, 226

----: character, 229

----: representative of Greece in Entente capitals, 235

Vlachopoulos, Colonel, 52, 53

Volo, 120

Wellington, Duke of, 188

Zaimis, M., Premier, 65-69, 102, 108, 114-119, 181, 190-203

Zalocostas, M., 210

Zante, 177

Zappeion, 143, 159, 160

Zographos, M., 33, 37, 41

End of Project Gutenberg's Greece and the Allies 1914-1922, by G. F. Abbott

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