EUROPE UNDER THE CONCERT OF THE POWERS
Having disposed of Alexander’s plan for a federation of nations it now
remains to consider the other plan which, under the name of “Concert of
Europe,” was adopted by Castlereagh and Metternich, though not for the
same purpose as that which had inspired the tsar. Its fundamental idea
had been in the positions taken by Pitt and Castlereagh when replying
to the tsar’s proposals, but it found its official basis in a Treaty
of Alliance signed by Great Britain, Russia, Austria, and Prussia at
Paris, November 20, 1815, the same day they accepted the Holy Alliance.
Its chief provisions were as follows: 1. The Powers bound themselves to
see that the second treaty of Paris, regulating affairs between France
and the allies, was executed. 2. They agreed to meet from time to time
to take cognizance of the state of affairs in Europe. 3. They promised
to suppress any recurrence of the revolutionary activity of France. 4.
They settled upon the quota of men and supplies that each nation should
furnish in case common action became necessary. 5. They undertook to
“consolidate the intimate tie which unites the four sovereigns for the
happiness of the world.” The most important of these provisions for the
purpose of this inquiry was the second, taken in connection with the
fifth.
The first meeting that may be said to have been called under the
agreement was the Conference of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1818. It was called
to determine whether or not France should be relieved of her garrisons
of occupation, a matter which was soon adjusted. Alexander I saw his
opportunity and urged that the sovereigns should take steps to make the
Holy Alliance a more vital kind of league. But Castlereagh interposed,
as in former meetings, and turned the efforts of the tsar aside without
arousing his displeasure. This may be considered the last gasp of the
Holy Alliance, as it was the complete triumph of the Concert over
it. At the same time France was admitted to the alliance of the four
powers, which henceforth was known as the Quintuple Alliance. But if
ever a question were to come up in which France was at variance with
the four other Powers over matters connected with her obligations
assumed in recent treaties, these four Powers would continue to act
in their old capacity. Mr. W. A. Phillips remarks that the Quadruple
Alliance still survived as “a rod in pickle for a France but doubtfully
disciplined.” For us, who are chiefly concerned to see the result of
the attempt to take the affairs of Europe under the protection of the
great Powers, it is sufficient to remember that France gave no further
trouble of the kind anticipated, and that the Quintuple Alliance, as
the formal expression of the Concert of Europe, had other problems to
consider.
The first arose out of revolutions in Spain and Naples, where armed men
seized the power and forced the kings to accept liberal constitutions.
Alexander I and Metternich looked on with different feelings. The
former had been encouraging the liberals in Italy and was not greatly
shocked by the revolution there, but he was deeply concerned over
the upheaval in Spain and would have led a Russian army thither to
suppress it. The suggestion alarmed Metternich, who did not relish
the idea of Alexander’s marching through Austrian lands with a great
body of men. He did what he could to discourage the expedition against
Spain. At the same time he believed that Naples should be disciplined,
since its revolution endangered the safety of Austrian possessions in
Italy. It is amusing to see how self-interest ran across the currents
of the general good as proclaimed in the Concert of Europe.
The tsar thought the situation warranted calling another conference of
the Quintuple Alliance. Metternich objected, being chiefly concerned
by the seeming certainty that the tsar would wish to carry into the
situation his well-known views in support of liberalism. To him it
seemed sufficient that the powers should agree severally to give their
arms to the suppression of revolution, without meeting in conference.
After much discussion a conference was called, at Troppau, but it was
regularly attended by only three of the five powers. The suppression
of constitutional government was not popular in Great Britain, and
her government took no official part in the conference. France held
aloof also; she was so much under the protection of Great Britain that
she did not dare risk British displeasure by allying herself with the
forces of repression.
Did the absence of two nations from Troppau presage the dissolution of
the Alliance? Castlereagh gave a negative reply. His nation, he said,
was not bound beyond her treaty obligations, the terms of which were
clear and specific. They were embodied in the Treaties of Chaumont
and Paris. He considered the project of dealing with revolution in
its present form as beyond the meaning of these agreements. “If,”
he said, “it is desired to extend the Alliance so as to include all
objects present and future, foreseen and unforeseen, it would change
its character to such an extent and carry us so far, that we should
see in it an additional motive for adhering to our course at the risk
of seeing the Alliance move away from us without our having quitted
it.” These frank words show that the Alliance was strained but not
broken. It would seem that a system like that of which we speak should
have at bottom some broad common principles. In purpose it should
be harmonious. As between the prevailing British idea of liberty
and Metternich’s ideas of legitimacy there was no ground for mutual
support; and out of this divergence of views was to grow the disruption
of the Alliance, as we shall soon see.
Up to this time the two ideas that had run side by side were the tsar’s
plan for a league to secure coöperation of a general nature and the
British plan limiting common action to a few specific matters, chiefly
connected with the repression of France in case she wished to return
to a policy which would threaten the peace of Europe. As it became
increasingly apparent that France was no longer a menace this type
of union became less important, and the British ardor for it cooled,
especially since it was becoming more and more certain that the
Alliance was being used to support repression.
At the same time a change was passing through the mind of the tsar. In
all he had done he had been supported by liberal ministers, against
whose influence at his court Metternich did not hesitate to intrigue.
Alexander’s conversion to the cause of repression came suddenly and
completely in 1820, when there was a mutiny in a favorite regiment of
his guard. Sober advisers pointed out to him that the action of the
regiment had no political significance, but he would not be convinced.
He insisted he would not countenance revolt abroad, lest it encourage
insurrection at home. All the fervor he had shown in behalf of liberal
ideas he now manifested in behalf of repression. At Troppau he met
Metternich in a spirit of profound repentance for what he had done
in the past, saying with an outburst of emotion: “So we are at one,
Prince, and it is to you that we owe it. You have correctly judged
the state of affairs. I deplore the waste of time, which we must try
to repair. I am here without any fixed ideas; without any plan; but I
bring you a firm and unalterable resolution. It is for your Emperor to
use it as he wills. Tell me what you desire, and what you wish me to
do, and I will do it.” The speech astonished the Prince as much as it
pleased him. All his schemes had lost in the defection of Castlereagh,
and probably more, was made up in the accession of his new ally. Not
only was the cause of legitimacy, as he advocated it, made safe; but
the danger was removed of a Franco-Russian alliance, always a thing to
be dreaded by the great Powers in the center of Europe.
In the conference at Troppau, Austria, Russia, and Prussia now acted
together. Up to that time Metternich had ignored the Holy Alliance.
He now brought it out as his stalking horse. The three sovereigns,
controlling the conference, issued a declaration suspending from
the Alliance any state that tolerated revolution in its borders and
declaring that the other Powers in the Alliance would bring back the
offending state by force of arms. Under the indefinite terms of the
instrument this was a legal interpretation of power, but it was not
in the spirit of the benevolent sovereign who made the Holy Alliance
possible.
Those of us who now favor a league or federation of states as a means
of preserving peace perpetually may well study the crisis to which a
similar system had come in the development of international relations
in 1820. The tsar’s ideal was a thing of glory thrown before a sordid
world. Not even he, as we see, was proof against the debasement of his
surroundings. If his plan had been adopted by all the nations, it is
likely that the time would have come when the confederation thus formed
would have become an agency for reaction against which liberal views
would have been unable to contend.
On the other hand, we must not ignore the weight that a confederation
would have had as an idea in promoting respect for liberal government.
If it had been established under the protection of the tsar, it may
well have been that Metternich would not have taken up the crusade of
legitimacy, that the tsar and Castlereagh acting together in behalf of
liberal institutions would have insured a steadier attitude on the part
of the former, and that under such circumstances the kings of Spain
and Naples would have been less inclined to the severe measures which
provoked revolution. Of course, these are mere conjectures, but it is
only fair to mention them as things to be said for the other side of
the question.
When we come to apply the lessons of 1815-1820 to the present day, we
must not forget that conditions are now very greatly changed. It was
the supremacy of arbitrary government in Europe that made the hopes
of 1815 come to naught. Of all the agents who then controlled affairs
in the great states of Europe, Castlereagh, next to the tsar, was the
most liberal. If a plan of union were adopted after the present war,
it might not be a success, but the failure would not be for the same
reasons as those that brought the Alliance of 1815 to a nullity.
Castlereagh made a protest against the purposes of the three Powers
at Troppau in which were some telling arguments against such a league
as was threatening. They were well made and would be applicable to
the situation today, if it were proposed to establish a league like
that which found favor at Troppau. The plan proposed, said he, was too
general in its scope. It gave the projected confederation the right to
interfere in the internal affairs of independent states on the ground
that the general good was concerned, and if carried out the Alliance
would, in effect, be charged with the function of policing such states.
Against all this he protested, and he pointed out that so many grounds
of dissatisfaction lay in the scheme that to try to enforce it would
surely lead to counter alliances, the end of which would be war. It
ought to be said, also, that Castlereagh was opposed to giving up war
as a means of settling disputes. “The extreme right of interference,”
he said, “between nation and nation can never be made a matter of
written stipulation or be assumed as the attribute of an alliance.” If
a man takes that position he can hardly be expected to see good points
in any scheme to preserve peace perpetually.
The evils he pointed out are largely eliminated in the modern plans
that are offered. For example, the jurisdiction of the proposed leagues
or federations is strictly limited to the enforcement of peace. A
supreme court held by eminent judges would pass upon cases as they come
up and say whether or not the central authority should employ force.
Under the plan it would be hard to bring a purely internal question
before the court, and if brought there it would not be considered
by the judges, since the pact of the federation would specify that
such cases were not to be tried. The pact would be the constitution
of the federation, and the court would be expected to pass on the
constitutionality of measures from the standpoint of that instrument.
Under a system like that recently advocated a revolution in Naples
would have to be submitted to a court whose members were appointed from
states in which free institutions are in existence. It could not be the
tool of a Metternich. Under such a system the whim of a tsar, if such a
ruler ever again wears a crown, could not make or mar a question like
that which underlay the calling of the Conference of Troppau. So many
are the differences that it is, perhaps, not profitable to dwell longer
on this point. The study of the peace problem and the attempt to solve
it a hundred years ago is extremely interesting to one who considers
the situation now existing, but it is chiefly because the mind, having
grasped the development of the former problem and become accustomed
to see the process as a whole, is in a better state to understand
the present and to know wherein it differs from the past and in what
respect old factors are supplemented by new factors. Such lessons from
the past are open to all who will but read.
These reflections should not make us forget the main thread of our
story, which became relatively weak after Troppau. From that time it
was clear that Europe had no hopes of peace through coöperation under
either of the two plans that had been suggested. Almost immediately
began a train of events which gave added impulse to the dissolution of
the Alliance. In 1821 began the Greek War of Independence. Austria was
in consternation lest the revolution should spread to her own people.
Russia, however, was deeply sympathetic with the Greeks, partly through
religious affiliations and partly because the Russian people, looking
toward the possession of Constantinople, were anxious to weaken the
Turk in any of his European possessions. Alexander I showed signs
of going to war for the Greeks, and Metternich hastily sought to
counteract any such course.
At the same time the situation in Spain’s American colonies was
becoming more urgent, because the weakness of the government had
stimulated the South American revolutionists to renewed activity until
Mexico as well as the rest of the Continental colonies except Peru was
in successful revolt. Metternich would have helped Turkey against the
Greeks and allowed the tsar to carry out his long cherished wish of
intervening in Spain, as a means of keeping him quiet. The situation
seemed to call for another conference and after some discussion a
meeting was arranged at Verona, 1822. France was anxious to take over
the task of punishing the Spanish revolutionists, and as Russia,
Austria, and Prussia agreed to her plan, four of the five Great Powers
now stood side by side in favor of repression. They would have gone
further, and settled the fate of the American revolutionists, but
against that course Great Britain made such a protest that the question
was left open.
It was not definitely closed until the next year, and then through
the action of the United States, taken in association with Great
Britain. For when France had performed her task, she looked forward
to taking some of the Spanish colonies as indemnity for her expenses.
The principle of federation among the Powers was working so well that
it was considered only a natural thing to call another conference at
which France could be assigned the right of conquering the colonies.
Canning, at the head of the British government, was genuinely alarmed.
The four united Powers were willing to defy Great Britain if she stood
alone. He turned to the United States as the only ally in sight. Would
we support him in opposition to the designs of the Powers? President
Monroe, influenced by John Quincy Adams’ stout patriotism, replied
in the affirmative and went a step further; for he insisted that the
defiance of the Powers should be announced in Washington, not as a mere
expedient to meet an isolated case, but as a general policy of our
government. The Monroe Doctrine was one of the things that broke up the
Quintuple Alliance, already weakened by the alienation of Great Britain.
The last blow was the revolution in France in 1880, which drove the
Bourbon king into exile and made a liberal government possible. At the
same time so strong were the manifestations of republicanism in other
countries that the old conservatism was lowered in tone and chastened
in pride. From France the revolutionary movement passed into Belgium,
which the Congress of Vienna had decreed should be a part of the
kingdom of the Netherlands. So completely was the revolution successful
that even the Great Powers had to bow to it, and in a congress at
London they recognized Belgium as a separate state and saw it set up a
liberal constitution with a king at the head of the government. Several
of the small German governments also adopted more liberal forms. Poland
broke into rebellion and before its power of resistance was crushed by
Russia the infection spread into Lithuania and Podolia. At last the
arms of the tsar overpowered all resistance and peace reigned; but
the reactionaries were sobered, and the dream of a league to enforce
repression passed away.
Glancing backward we may see through what a development the ideas
of reform had passed. Europe, distressed by the wars of 1800-1815,
had hungered for peace. Having issued from a decade of discussion of
liberty and humanity, the friends of freedom were more than ordinarily
earnest for replacing war by an age of reason. In our own day the cause
of universal peace stands on a broader and better laid foundation than
a hundred years ago, but it is, perhaps, no more impressive. At any
rate the philosophically inclined men of the earlier period supported
Kant and Rousseau, among them, Alexander I. A considerable portion of
the world believed that the outcome of the war madness then reigning
must be an era of sanity.
We have seen that two plans of improvement were formed in the minds
of men who were in position to have practical influence: the tsar’s
scheme for a league, or federation, that was so strongly integrated
that the central authority should be able to enforce its commands
upon constituent states; and the plan of Castlereagh for prolonging
the existing system of coöperation in a form which we may call the
Concert of the Great Powers. We have seen that the tsar’s plan, ignored
at first, was seized on by Metternich as a possibility for enforcing
a system of reaction, that it met the opposition of Great Britain
and aroused the revolutionary protest of 1830, and thus it came to
an end. It was never the dream of any of the philosophers that a
federation should be formed which might become an engine of despotism,
yet practical use showed that such a course was within the bounds of
possibility. The mere glimpse of such a thing was enough to make Europe
prefer the old era of wars.
One does not have to look far into the situation to see that the real
failure of the plan was due to the wide use of arbitrary government
in Europe. Had Austria, Russia, and Prussia been ruled by the people,
either as republics or as liberal monarchies, the great alliance of
Europe could hardly have been turned to the side of repression; and
under the guidance of enlightened statesmen it might have been the
beginning of a long era of peace and international good will. The
failure of the nineteenth century, therefore, does not prove that
federation is essentially impossible. It only proves that a century ago
the world was not ready to employ it successfully.