ANGLO-GERMAN FRIENDSHIP AND ESTRANGEMENT AFTER BISMARCK’S DEPARTURE
1890–1895
It is well known that the anxiety felt concerning alleged warlike
intentions of Russia, and also the belief in such intentions, played a
part in the events which led up to the fall of Prince Bismarck. It was
greatly to England’s interest that this belief should prevail in the
governing circles of the German Empire; for as soon as it existed, and
became strong enough for political consequences to result from it, the
end of the Reinsurance Treaty with Russia must necessarily be in sight.
And this is what did in fact happen. When Caprivi took over the
Chancellorship after Bismarck’s fall, he had nothing more urgent to do
than to refuse Russia’s offer to renew the Reinsurance Treaty, with a
haste which Bismarck qualified in the Hamburger Nachrichten as
altogether excessive. No one could have been more delighted than Great
Britain! The experienced statesmen on the banks of the Thames, who were
so intimately acquainted with all the laws which govern the grouping of
European Powers, knew immediately that the abandonment of the treaty in
question—especially in the form adopted—must mean the end of the former
confidential relations between Germany and Russia. Great Britain knew,
as well as Bismarck did, that a partly written Agreement had already
existed for some years between France and Russia. Who could tell whether
the entente between Russia and Germany, on the one hand, and France and
Russia, on the other, might not lead to a Franco-German-Russian
Alliance? For Great Britain, no spectre more uncanny than that of a
co-operation—to say nothing of a real union—between the leading
Continental Powers could possibly be conjured up. As long as Bismarck
was there, English statesmen had found no opportunity of driving a wedge
in between Russia and Germany. But in 1890 they succeeded with ease in
doing so. The natural consequence of all this was to hasten and to
consolidate the intimacy between France and Russia. Henceforth neither
the Court nor the Government in St. Petersburg offered the same
determined resistance to the Pan-Slav agitation as they had formerly
done. Bismarck had been able to say in days gone by that all Pan-Slav
intrigues had but the weight of a feather by comparison with the
authority with the Czar. All that was now at an end. By means of the
Reinsurance Treaty Russia had insured herself against the attacks and
the pressure of her worst enemy, which was Great Britain. Ever since the
seventies, an Anglo-Russian war had been one of the probabilities of
European politics; for the points at which the two nations came into
hostile contact were constantly increasing in size and number, alike in
the Balkans and in Asia. It was therefore of the greatest importance for
Russia that she should have, in case of war, a friendly neutral Germany
on her Western frontier. The entente with Germany gave Russia the
further assurance that, owing to the Austro-German alliance,
Austria-Hungary would not allow herself to be induced by Great Britain
to take part in a war against the Empire of the Czars.
It will be seen therefore that, in the complicated situation created by
the Reinsurance Treaty, Great Britain was at a distinct disadvantage. As
long as the Treaty existed, Great Britain had not a single Continental
Power at her disposal; and this appeared all the more dangerous to her
on account of the growing colonial expansion of France, and in view of
Russian expansion in the Near East and in Central Asia. England sought,
under these circumstances, to effect a close rapprochement with Germany.
The Morning Post, the organ of the English Prime Minister, Lord
Salisbury, wrote at the beginning of the reign of the Emperor William
II.: “Neither England nor Germany are thinking of a war; but it must
appear every day more evident to both countries that, if war should
indeed be forced upon them, they will have to stand or fall together. No
paper alliance is necessary for this.” It was the time when the
friendship of Germany was eagerly desired, and when the Reinsurance
policy was at its last gasp. Great Britain’s friendship seemed at first
tolerable enough; but the situation grew dangerous in the very moment
when, after the non-renewal of the Reinsurance Treaty, the
Franco-Russian alliance commenced to manifest pronounced anti-German
proclivities.
Caprivi was deeply convinced of the necessity of an intimate friendship
between Germany and England. He wished, consciously and intentionally,
to place the German Empire under British guardianship, in all matters of
maritime, commercial, and colonial policy. After the wooing of Germany
by England had succeeded in its object of separating the former from
Russia, England’s tone towards her newly-acquired “friend” suddenly
changed. The aim had been realised, the possibility of a great
Continental coalition had been suppressed, and no further wooing was
necessary—seeing that Germany now appeared in a certain degree isolated.
Already in 1891, a representative of the British Government took the
opportunity of declaring that, in the event of a Franco-German war,
England’s national interests would have first and foremost to be
considered. Not without reason was public expression then given to such
a self-evident truth; in spite of all “friendship,” in spite of
“standing and falling together,” the British Government deemed it useful
to drive home an important truth: namely, that if war were to break out
between France and Germany, England would take sides either for or
against the latter—according to the circumstances. Already in 1890
England had signed a Colonial Agreement with France; and since that date
she had more than once given it to be understood that she was perfectly
willing to develop more intimate relations with the Republic. To
Turkey’s demand that Egypt should, at long last, be evacuated, Lord
Salisbury replied with the delightful euphemism: “We wish first of all
to complete our work there.” About the same time, the friendly relations
of Germany and the Ottoman Empire commenced; and the initial steps
towards building the future Bagdad railroad were taken.
During the years of unhealthy Anglo-German “friendship,” England
considered Germany as a servant who owed her obedience. In 1890 the
Zanzibar Agreement was signed, and in 1893 a second Agreement was
concluded; both were drawn up entirely from the standpoint of English
interests. When Germany shortly afterwards entered into a Colonial
Agreement with France—in which, be it said, the former once more got the
worst part of the bargain,—England resented this; her resentment
increased when Germany and France both protested, a year later, against
a convention concluded by England with the Congo State in violation of
international treaties. About the same time the Prince of Wales
undertook a journey to Russia; the British Government seized the
opportunity of settling temporarily its quarrel with St. Petersburg
concerning Central Asia; and the English press was able to talk
ironically about Germany’s isolation.
In 1894 the German Government sent two warships to Delagoa Bay, as a
demonstration against English intrigues which threatened the
independence of the Boer Republics. At that time the Boer newspaper
Volks Stem wrote: “Up till now the Germans have let us settle our
disputes with England by ourselves; but at last it would seem that
Berlin has recognised the erroneousness of this policy. In the name of
the Boer people we tender our thanks to the German nation.” This was, in
truth, an historical moment; for ever since then English statesmen
turned their attention to two problems: firstly, the prevention of the
development of closer relations between Germany and the South African
Republics; secondly, the destruction of the independence of the latter.
We must once more remind our readers of the fact that England knew
perfectly well that Germany was no longer backed up by Russia; and that
Germany was, consequently, isolated in all questions of world politics.
The Triple Alliance played no part in these; just as little as Germany
herself, did the Triple Alliance possess a naval force which England
needed to pay even the slightest attention to. Therefore did the British
Government draw the noose ever tighter round the neck of the South
African Republics, which it was determined to destroy by hook or by
crook. Cecil Rhodes began his activity, created new territories for
England all around the Boer States, and thus isolated the latter. In
England, the enmity against Germany had increased so rapidly, that
already in the summer of 1895, when the German Emperor visited the Queen
of England, the English Government press received him with marked
hostility. The London Standard published a much-noticed series of
articles which, under the pretext of welcoming the Emperor, criticised
him with bitter irony.
Ever since the combined efforts of England and Austria-Hungary had
checked Russia’s expansion in the Balkans, the Government of St.
Petersburg had pursued systematically and energetically its “forward”
policy in the Far East. England felt her own interests in this region to
be more and more menaced; and already a quarter of a century ago her
experienced statesmen had recognised Japan as the Power capable of
rendering invaluable service in the struggle against Russia. At the
beginning of the nineties, England and Japan concluded a treaty of
commerce and friendship. During their war with China in 1894–95, the
Japanese were financed by English bankers. This war had the result of
separating Corea from China—Corea, which was the goal of Russian policy.
China was also compelled to surrender the peninsula of Liaotung, with
Port Arthur, to Japan. Here, again, England stood behind Japan, for the
former knew that Russia had designs on Port Arthur. In view of the
Japanese demands, Russia, Germany, and France decided to intervene
together. The German view was that if Japan were to establish herself on
the Asiatic Continent, this would mean her definite ascendancy over
China; from an economic standpoint, Japan “would stand like a sentry at
the entrance to the highways leading into China, and would command
them.” In addition to this, Germany had concluded a secret convention
with Russia, the result of which was later on the leasing of the
territory of Kiaotchow.
Japan was forced to give way to the pressure of the three European
Powers, and to surrender the peninsula of Liaotung. Russia, on the other
hand, was conceded the right of constructing a branch of the
Transsiberian railroad to Port Arthur; a few years later, the latter was
given over to her on lease. Germany took Kiaotchow, and England
Weihaiwei. At the time of the war between Japan and China, Germany was
not yet regarded by England as an end, but only as a means: a means
against Russia. England was unable to check Russia’s expansion in the
Far East; for Russia was in the happy position of possessing an
uninterrupted and direct line of communications by land with the Pacific
Ocean. The sea power of Great Britain was impotent as regards the
Transsiberian railroad. The still rudimentary sea power of Japan had
shown itself to be as yet too weak to be used as a British battering-ram
against Russian Imperialism in those regions. And it was natural and
inevitable that France should be on the side of her Russian ally. There
thus remained only the German Empire, as the one Power capable, in the
eyes of England, of stemming Russia’s expansion in the Far East. But
Germany adopted a precisely contrary attitude and went over to the other
side, for the reasons above indicated. Therefore were the English filled
with indignation against the German Emperor, on account of what they
termed his “liking for political experiments.”
In South Africa, about the same time, the last act but one of the great
drama took place. Dr. Jameson and his band of filibusters made their
disgraceful raid on the Transvaal. The Boers captured them, and the
German Emperor despatched his famous telegram to President Krüger. The
English ought to have approved of this telegram, if the conscience of
the Government and the nation had been, with regard to the Raid, as pure
as was maintained. But such was not the case; and there ensued an
appalling outburst of fury against the Germans in general, and the
Emperor in particular.
The British Government proceeded immediately to get its fleet ready; a
part of this was sent to Delagoa Bay, and the rest was held in readiness
in the home waters, just as if a war with Germany were contemplated. We
do not know the diplomatic communications which took place at the time
between Berlin and London. The German Government declared
semi-officially that it was not true that any apologies had been offered
on its behalf in London. And both the Government and the press confirmed
the absolute unity of Kaiser and people.
An English newspaper, on the occasion of this tension between the two
countries, asked ironically how Germany represented to herself a war
with Great Britain. It was evident that, unless Germany worked
systematically in harmony with other Continental Powers, she could not
possibly act, in any overseas question, in opposition to the British
Government. If she did, her failure was a foregone conclusion; for there
was no German navy. Joseph Chamberlain, who was then English Colonial
Secretary, said at the time with characteristic frankness, it was the
object of every British Government to maintain England’s position as
predominant Power in South Africa; the aim of the Government was the
union of all the South African States under the protection of the
British flag. The English Colonial Secretary thus declared, in so many
words, that England would not rest until the Boer Republics had been
deprived of their independence by one means or another: the old
traditional British policy of brigandage! The main cause of England’s
greed was the existence of diamonds and gold in the territory of the
South African Republics; then came subsequently the fear that the
economic and colonial expansion of Germany might dry up the English
waters in South Africa altogether. In conformity with English
traditions, these real motives were concealed behind a cloak of pompous
and hypocritical phrases about civilisation, culture, etc. After the
Krüger telegram the British Government had, by means of its naval
demonstrations, put (symbolically) to the German Government the question
of power; and having done this, it considered _ipso facto_ the South
African policy of Germany as knocked on the head. Such was, indeed, the
case. Bereft of a fleet, Germany could not pursue, with regard to
England, any policy which raised the fatal question of power.