READJUSTMENTS
Deprived of the help for which they had looked to Japan, the
publicists and politicians of the allied countries now centred their
hopes on the neutrals and on Kitchener's great army, which was to
appear on the scene in spring, put an end to the warfare of the
trenches, and free Belgium from the Teuton yoke. The impending
belligerency of certain of the neutrals would, it was reasonably
believed, turn the scales in favour of Britain, France and Russia.
Indeed, Bulgaria alone, owing to her commanding geographical position,
might have achieved the feat more than once during the campaign. With
the death of King Carol of Roumania[85] the probability of this
consummation seemed to verge on certitude. It aroused high hopes among
the Allies.
[85] October 10, 1914.
The propitious moment seemed to have come for the union of all
Roumanians under the sceptre of the new king. Over three million
members of that race under Hungarian sway had long been waging a
losing contest for their nationality, language and religion. And they
entertained no hope of better prospects in the future. For in view of
her military inferiority Roumania, with her little army of half a
million men, could not indulge in energetic protests against the
treatment meted out to her kindred by Hungary. She had no choice but
to resign herself to the inevitable. Diplomatically, too, she was
bound to Austria by a secret convention, concluded by the Hohenzollern
prince who had presided over her destinies for a generation.
Economically she was, as we saw, tied hand and foot to Germany.
Moreover, it was a matter of common knowledge that King Carol would
never tolerate any radical change in the political orientation of the
kingdom. To the writer of these lines he said so in plain words
shortly before he died, and he also charged him with a message of the
same tenor to the Austro-Hungarian Minister of Foreign Affairs. But,
loyal and conscientious, as was his wont, King Carol added that if
circumstances should ever necessitate a radical change in Roumania's
attitude, a younger ruler might usher it in, for whom he would not
hesitate to make room.
This eventuality arose in September[86] when the Russians defeated the
Austrians, occupied Lemberg, threatened Cracow, took up strong
positions on the Carpathians, and bade fair to overrun Hungary. Fate,
it seemed, had at last overtaken the Habsburg Monarchy, which,
contrary to general expectation, had not succumbed to internal strife
on the outbreak of the war. And it now lay with Roumania and her
neighbours to play the part of Fate's executors. As a matter of fact,
Roumania suddenly found a sonorous voice in which to utter her
grievances against the Teutons. Senators, deputies, ex-ministers
executed a _chassez croisez_ movement through France, Italy and
Britain, delivering diatribes against Austria-Hungary, arousing
sympathy for Roumania, and proclaiming their country's resolve to
strike a blow for justice, liberty and civilization. The names of
Senator Istrati, M. Diamandy, and Dr. Constantinescu were associated
with feasts of patriotic sentiment and flow of soul. Military
delegates in Paris made extensive purchases of various necessaries for
the commissariat and sanitary departments of the War Ministry, and the
date on which the gallant Roumanian nation would unsheathe its sword
in the cause of humanity was unofficially announced.
[86] September 8, 1914.
At that moment the country was governed, as it still is, by a Premier
who might appropriately be termed its Dictator, so little influence on
his policy and methods is wielded by his colleagues in the Cabinet.
John Bratiano is the sole trustee of the nation at the most critical
period of its history. The son of an eminent and deservedly respected
statesman, this politician entered public life encircled by the halo
of his father's prestige. Gifted with considerable powers, he owes
more to birth than to hard work and self-discipline. Entering early
upon his valuable political heritage he found all paths smoothed, all
doors open to him. The leadership of the most influential
parliamentary party fell to him at an age when other politicians are
painfully struggling with the preliminary difficulties in the way of
success, and John Bratiano became the ruler of Roumania without an
effort. Descended from an illustrious stock, he is penetrated with an
overmastering sense of his own personal responsibility, from which the
principal relief to be obtained lies in the indefinite prolongation of
his liberty of choice. Finality in matters of momentous decision
appears painful to him, and the standard of success which would
fairly be applied to the policy of the ordinary statesman seems too
lax for the man whose shoulders are pressed down with the weight of
the kingdom as it is and the kingdom yet to come. Hence his anxiety to
drive a brilliant bargain with the Allies and to leave no hold for
hostile criticism at home. Like most patriots placed in responsible
positions, he is bent on furthering what he considers the interests of
his country in his own way, and honestly convinced that the right way
is his own, he has hitherto declined to share responsibility with the
Opposition--which disapproves his Fabian policy--even though it
numbers among its members a real statesman of the calibre and repute
of Take Jonescu.
At first M. Bratiano swam with the stream. He assured foreign
diplomatists, eminent Italians and others, that Roumania had decided
to throw in her lot with the Allies. And his declarations were
re-echoed by his colleagues. These statements were duly transmitted to
the various Cabinets interested, and the entry of Roumania into the
struggle was reckoned with by all the Allied Powers. On the strength
of these good intentions one of the Allies was asked to advance a
certain sum of money for military preparations, and the request was
complied with. Italy was approached and treated as a trusty confidant,
and a tacit arrangement was come to with her by which each of the two
Latin States was expected to communicate with the other as soon as it
should decide to take the field. In fine, it was understood that
Roumania would join in at the same time as Italy.
Cognizant of those intentions and preparations the Allies rejoiced
exceedingly. The prospect that opened out before them appeared
cheerful. Kitchener's great army was to take the offensive in spring,
Roumania's co-operation was due some months or weeks previously, and
the forcing of the Dardanelles might be counted upon as a corollary,
to say nothing of the adherence of Greece and Bulgaria to the allied
cause. But Germany and Austria lost nothing of their self-confidence.
Clumsy though their professional diplomacy might be, their
economico-diplomatic campaign had left little to be desired. Its
fruits were ripe. They had firmly knitted the material interests of
the little Latin State with their own, and could rely on the backing
of nearly every supporter of Bratiano's Cabinet in the country. But
leaving nothing to chance, they now put forth the most ingenious,
persistent and costly efforts to maintain the ground they had won.
Influential newspapers were bought or subsidized, new ones were
founded, public servants were corrupted, calumnies were launched
against the Allies and their supporters, and a nucleus of military men
ranged themselves among the opponents of intervention.
M. Bratiano suddenly turned wary and circumspect. His talk was now of
the necessity of time for preparations, of the divergence of views
between his Cabinet and that of the Tsar, and of the inadequacy of the
motives held out to his country for belligerency. Thereupon
negotiations began between Russia and Roumania, which dragged on
endlessly. What the Roumanian Premier said to the Russian Minister was
practically this: "The choice between belligerency and neutrality must
be determined by the balance of territorial advantages offered by
each. And the terms must be adequate and guaranteed." The conditions
which, according to him, answered to this description consisted of the
cession of all Transylvania, part of the Banat of Temesvar, the
Roumanian districts of Bukovina, and of the province of Crishana and
Marmaros.
About Transylvania there was no dissentient voice: it was admitted
that it ought by right to form part of the Roumanian kingdom. The
dispute between Bucharest and Petrograd hinged on a zone of the Banat
and a strip of Bukovina. The Tsar's Government admitted that Bukovina
might be annexed by Roumania as far as the river Seret, but not
farther north; whereas the Roumanian Premier insisted on obtaining the
promise of a zone the northern boundary of which would be formed by
the river Pruth, and would therefore include the important city of
Czernowitz, which is the capital of the province. The divergence of
opinion arising out of this demand for the district of Pancsova in the
Banat of Temesvar raised a formidable obstacle to an understanding,
for the claim runs counter to the principle of nationality somewhat
pedantically laid down by the Allied Powers. Parenthetically, it is
worth remembering that hard-and-fast principles which lead insensibly
to dogmatism cannot be too sedulously avoided by a Government.
Politics must assuredly have its ideals, but compromise is the method
by which alone it can approach them. The Allies have already been
constrained by tyrannous circumstance to entertain important
exceptions to their principle of nationality which was invoked against
Italy's claim to Dalmatia, and in their own best interests they might
have compromised on the subject of Bulgaria's claims to Macedonia,
and of Roumania's pretensions to annex certain of the disputed
territories inhabited by Serbs and Ruthenians.
In truth, Roumania's attitude, of which at various times conflicting
accounts have been given, appears to be what one might reasonably
expect, considering the sympathies of the nation, the interests of the
State, and the requirements of the conjuncture. Looking at it from the
view-point of the outsider, it would perhaps have been to her interest
to join the Allies when the Russians, driving the Magyars and the
Austrians before them, could have played the part of right wing to her
armies. It was generally believed later on that she would unsheathe
the sword at the same time as Italy. Informal announcements to that
effect are known to have been made to certain official representatives
of that country. And her failure to stand by these spontaneous
declarations was the cause of profound disappointment to the Entente
and of a considerable loss of credit to herself. These facts and
conclusions appeal with irresistible force to the uninitiated, and in
especial to those among them who are citizens of the belligerent
States.
But there is another aspect of the matter which, whatever effect its
disclosure may have on the general verdict, is at any rate well worth
considering. According to this version, which is based on what
actually passed between Bucharest and the capitals of the Entente
Powers, the central idea of Roumania's strivings was to achieve
national unity together with defensible military frontiers as far as
appeared feasible, and to obtain in advance implicit assurances that
the Entente Powers, if victorious, would allow her claims without
demur or delay. The territories occupied by the Roumanians of
Transylvania, the Bukovina, and the Banat were to be united under the
sceptre of the King, including the strip which is contiguous to
Belgrade. To this the Slavs demurred because Belgrade could then no
longer remain the Serbian capital. But of these demands M. Bratiano
would make no abatement, nor in the promise of the Entente to fulfil
them would he admit of any ambiguity. Roumania's experience in 1877,
under M. Bratiano's father, when, after having helped Russia to defeat
the Turks, she was deprived of Bessarabia and obliged to content
herself with the Dobrudja, was the main motive for this striving after
definite conditions, while her readiness to look upon that loss of
Bessarabia as final moved her to demand every rood of Austro-Hungarian
territory which was inhabited by her kinsmen or had belonged to them
in bygone days. These motives were inconsistent with the mooting of
the Bessarabian question, and the statement so often made in the Press
that Roumania demanded, and still demands, that lost province from
Russia are absolutely groundless. The subject was never once broached.
It has been argued that although these claims to recompense may have
been reasonable enough in themselves, to have made them conditions of
Roumania's participation in the war on the side of the Allies smacked
more of the pettifogger than of the statesman. In a tremendous
struggle like the present for lofty ideals this bargaining for
territorial advantages showed, it was urged, the country and the
Government in a sinister light. To this criticism the friends of M.
Bratiano reply that most of the belligerents set the example, with far
less reason than Roumania could plead. Italy, for instance, had made
her military co-operation conditional on the promise of a large part
of Dalmatia, as well as the _terra irredenta_, and Russia insisted
upon having her claim to Constantinople allowed. Why, it is asked,
should Roumania be blamed for acting similarly and on more solid
grounds?
During the first phase of the conversations which were carried on
between Roumania and the Entente there would appear to have been no
serious hitch. They culminated in a loan of L5,000,000 advanced in
January 1915. In the following month they ceased and were not resumed
until April, when M. Bratiano was informed that it would facilitate
matters if he would discuss terms with the Tsar's Government. By means
of an exchange of notes an arrangement had been come to by which
Roumania was to have "the country inhabited by the Roumanians of
Austria-Hungary" in return for her neutrality and on the express
condition that she should occupy them _par les armes_ before the close
of the war. I announced this agreement in the summer of 1915 and,
commenting on the controversy to which it gave rise, pointed out that
it amounted only to a promise made by Russia and an option given to
Roumania, which the latter state was at liberty to take up or forgo as
it might think fit. It bound her to nothing. Consequently, to accuse
her of having broken faith with Italy or the Entente is to betray a
complete lack of acquaintance with the facts.
It was only when Roumania's military participation was solicited that
difficulties began to make themselves felt. And they proved
insurmountable. So long as the Russian armies were victorious
Roumania's demands were rejected. When the Tsar's troops, for lack of
ammunition, were obliged to retreat, concessions were made very
gradually, slight concessions at first, which became larger as the
withdrawal proceeded, until finally--the Russian troops being driven
out--everything was conceded, when it was too late. For with the
departure of the Russian armies Roumania was so exposed to attack from
various sides, and so isolated from her protectors, that her military
experts deemed intervention to be dangerous for herself and useless to
the Allies.
In Italy, it has been said with truth, the conviction prevailed that
Roumania would descend into the arena as soon as the Salandra Cabinet
had declared war against Austria, and a good deal of disappointment
was caused by M. Bratiano's failure to come up to this expectation.
But the expectation was gratuitous and the disappointment imaginary.
In an article written at the time I pointed out that one of the
mistakes made by the Entente Powers consisted in the circuitous and
clumsy way in which they negotiated with Roumania. The spokesman and
guardian of Italy during the decisive conversations with the Entente
was the Foreign Minister, Baron Sonnino, the silent member of the
Cabinet. Now, this turned out to be a very unfortunate kind of
guardianship, which his ward subsequently repudiated with reason. For
one effect of his taciturnity--the Roumanians ascribed it to his
policy--was to keep Roumania in the dark about matters of vital moment
to her of which she ought to have had cognizance. Another was to
treat with the Entente Governments as though Roumania had sold her
will and private judgment to the Salandra Cabinet. This, however, is a
curious story of war diplomacy which had best be left to the historian
to recount. One day it will throw a new light upon matters of great
interest which are misunderstood at present. Roumania's co-operation
then, as now, would have been of much greater help to the Allies than
certain other results which were secured by sacrificing it. And
sacrificed it was quite wantonly. We are wont to sneer at Germany's
diplomacy as ridiculously clumsy, and to plume ourselves on our own as
tactful and dignified. Well, if one were charged with the defence of
this thesis, the last source to which one would turn for evidence in
support of it is our diplomatic negotiations with M. Bratiano's
Cabinet.
In the light of this _expose_ the severe judgments that have been
passed on the policy of the Roumanian Cabinet may have to be revised.
The crux of the situation was the attitude of Bulgaria. Bulgaria, a
petty country with a population inferior to that of London,
impregnated with Teutonism and ruled by an Austro-Hungarian officer
who loathes the Slavs, had throughout this sanguinary clash of peoples
rendered invaluable services to the Teutons and indirectly inflicted
incalculable losses on the civilized nations of the globe. This
tremendous power for evil springs from her unique strategic position
in Eastern Europe. At any moment during the conflict her active
assistance would have won Constantinople and Turkey for the Allies,
and if proffered during one of several particularly favourable
conjunctures might have speedily ended the war. But so tight was
Germany's grip on her that she not only withheld her own aid, but
actually threatened to fall foul of any of the Balkan States that
should tender theirs. It is, therefore, no exaggeration to affirm that
the duration of this war and some of the most doleful events
chronicled during the first year of its prosecution, are due to the
insidious behaviour of Ferdinand of Coburg and his Bulgarian
coadjutors. One may add that this behaviour constitutes a brilliant
and lasting testimony to the foresight and resourcefulness of German
diplomacy. It is one of the products of German organization as
distinguished from French and British individualism.
While Bulgaria was thus holding the menace of her army over Roumania's
head, and M. Bratiano stood irresolute between belligerency and
neutrality, the German and Austrian armies were effectively
co-operating with German and Austrian diplomatists. They compelled the
Russians to withdraw from Eastern Prussia,[87] and from a part of
Galicia,[88] later on from Lodz, from the Masurian Lakes and
Bukovina.[89] Gradually Roumania saw herself bereft of what would have
been her right wing and cover, and her military men, the most
influential of whom had been against intervention from the first, now
declared the moment inauspicious on strategical grounds. Thereupon the
oratorical representatives of the Roumanian people consoled themselves
with the formula that Roumanian blood would be shed only for Roumanian
interests, and that when a fresh turn of Fortune's wheel should bring
the Russian troops back to Bukovina and Galicia, the gallant
Roumanians would strike a blow for their country and civilization.
[87] October 13, 1914.
[88] December 6, 1914.
[89] February 15, 1915.
It would be unfruitful to enter into a detailed examination of the
efforts of the Allies to detach the neutrals, and in especial the
Balkan States, from the Military Empires with which their interests
had been elaborately bound up. But in passing, one may fairly question
the wisdom of their general plan, which established facts--still
fragmentary in character--enable us to reconstruct. The resuscitation
of the Balkan League and the mobilization of its forces against Turkey
was an enterprise from which the greatest statesmen of the nineteenth
century, were they living, would have recoiled. For it presupposes an
ascetic frame of mind among the little States, which in truth hate
each other more intensely than they ever hated the Turks. The first
condition of success, were success conceivable, would have been the
abrogation of the Treaty of Bucharest and the redistribution of the
territories, which its authors had divided with so little regard for
abstract justice and the stability of peace. And to this procedure,
which Bulgaria ostentatiously demanded, Serbia entered a firm demurrer
in which she was joined by Greece. For Serbs and Bulgars have always
been hypnotized by Macedonia. Their gaze is fixed on that land as by
some magic fascination, which interest and reason are powerless to
break. They think of the future development, nay of the very existence
of their respective nations, as indissolubly intertwined with it. To
lose Macedonia, therefore, is to forfeit the life-secret of nation.
Hence Bulgaria obstinately refused to abate one jot of her demands,
while Serbia was firmly resolved to reject them. It mattered nothing
that the fate of all Europe and of these two States was dependent on
compromise. The little nations took no account of the interests at
stake. Each, like Sir Boyle Roche, was ready to sacrifice the whole
for a part, and felt proud of its wisdom and will-power.
Under these circumstances the scheme of a resuscitated Balkan League
should have been accounted a political chimera, whereas politics is
the art of the possible. What might perhaps have been envisaged with
utility was the selection of the less mischievous and more helpful of
the unwelcome alternatives with which the allied diplomacy was
confronted. If, for instance, it could have been conclusively shown
that Bulgaria's help was indispensable, adequate and purchasable, the
plain course would have been to pay handsomely for that. However high
the price, it would have been more than compensated by the positive
and negative gains. If, on the other hand, Bulgaria were recalcitrant
and inexorable, the Tsardom which protected her might to some good
purpose have become equally so, and displayed firmness and severity.
It has been said that Russia cannot find it in her heart either to
coerce Serbia or to punish Bulgaria. If this be a correct presentation
of her temper--and in the past it corresponded to the reality--then
the Allies are up against an insurmountable obstacle which must be
looked upon as one of the instruments of Fate.
Our Press is never tired of repeating that the neutrals have a right
to think only of their own interest and to frame their policy in
strict accordance with that, whether it draws them towards the Allies
or the Teuton camp. To this principle exception may be taken. If it be
true that the European community, its civilization and all that that
connotes are in grave danger, then every member of that community is
liable to be called on for help, and is bound to tender it. In such a
crisis it is a case of every one being against us who is not actively
with us. Otherwise the contention that this is no ordinary war but a
criminal revolt against civilization, is a mere piece of claptrap and
is properly treated as such by the neutrals. But there is another
important side of the matter which has not yet been seriously
considered. If the neutrals are warranted in ignoring the common
interest and restricting themselves to the furtherance of their own,
it is surely meet that the Allies, too, should enjoy the full benefits
of this principle and frame their entire policy--economic, financial,
political and military--with a view to promoting their common weal,
and with no more tender regard for that of the non-belligerent States
than is conducive to the success of their cause and in strict
accordance with international law. The application of this doctrine
would find its natural expression in the creation of an economic
league of the Allied States with privileges restricted to its members.
It may not be irrelevant to state that during one phase of the war
combined action of the kind alluded to would have given the Allies the
active help of one or two neutral countries. Nay, if the exportation
of British coal alone had been restricted to the belligerents, the
hesitation of those countries between neutrality and belligerency
would have been overcome in a month.
Italy and Bulgaria, being the two nations whose attitude would in the
judgment of German statesmen have the furthest reaching consequences
on the war, were also the object of their unwearied attentions. And
every motive which could appeal to the interest or sway the sentiment
of those peoples was set before them in the light most conducive to
the aims of the tempter. Those painstaking efforts were duly rewarded.
Bulgaria, before abandoning her neutrality, had contributed more
effectively even than Turkey to retard the Allies' progress and to
facilitate that of their adversaries.
For Italy's restiveness Germany was prepared, but it was reasonably
hoped that with a mixture of firmness, forbearance and generosity that
nation would be prevailed upon to maintain a neutrality which the
various agents at work in the peninsula could render permanently
benevolent. And from the fateful August 3, 1914, down to the following
May, the course of events attested the accuracy of this forecast. At
first all Italy was opposed to belligerency. Deliberate reason,
irrational prejudice, religious sentiment, political calculation,
economic interests and military considerations all tended to confirm
the population in its resolve to keep out of the sanguinary struggle.
The Vatican, its organs and agents, brought all their resources to
bear upon devout Catholics, whose name is legion and whose immediate
aim was the maintenance of peace with the Central empires. The
commercial and industrial community was tied to Germany by threads as
fine, numerous and binding as those that rendered Gulliver helpless in
the hands of the Lilliputians. The common people, heavily taxed and
poorly paid, yearned for peace and an opportunity to better their
material lot. The Parliament was at the beck and call of a dictator
who was moved by party interests to co-operate with the Teutons, while
the Senate, which favoured neutrality on independent grounds, had made
it a rule to second every resolution of the Chamber. In a word,
although Italy might wax querulous and importunate, her complaints and
her demands would, it was assumed, play a part only in the scheme of
diplomatic tactics, but would never harden into pretexts for war.
For it was a matter of common knowledge that departure from the
attitude of neutrality, whatever its ultimate effects--and these would
certainly be fateful--must first lead to a long train of privations,
hardships and economic shocks, which would subject the limited staying
powers of the nation--accustomed to peace, and only now beginning to
thrive--to a searching, painful and dangerous test. From a Government
impressed by this perspective, and conscious of its responsibility,
careful deliberation, rather than high-pitched views, were reasonably
expected.
And the attitude of the Cabinet since August 1914 had been marked by
the utmost caution and self-containment. Contemplated from a distance
by certain of the Allies whose attention was absorbed by the political
aspect of the matter, this method of cool calculation seemed to smack
of hollow make-believe. Why, it was asked, should Italy hold back or
weigh the certain losses against the probable gains, seeing that she
would have as allies the two most puissant States of Europe, and the
enormous advantage of sea power on her side?