A CLASSIC INSTANCE OF GERMAN PROPAGANDA
In those August and September days Germany had no intention of
precipitating Turkey immediately into the war. As I had a deep interest
in the welfare of the Turkish people and in maintaining peace, I
telegraphed Washington asking if I might use my influence to keep Turkey
neutral. I received a reply that I might do this provided that I made my
representations unofficially and purely upon humanitarian grounds. As
the English and the French Ambassadors were exerting all their effort to
keep Turkey neutral, I knew that my intervention in the same interest
would not displease the British Government. Germany, however, might
regard any interference on my part as an unneutral act, and I asked
Wangenheim if there could be any objection from that source.
His reply somewhat surprised me, though I saw through it soon afterward.
“Not at all,” he said. “Germany desires, above all, that Turkey shall
remain neutral.”
Undoubtedly Turkey’s policy at that moment precisely fitted in with
German plans. Wangenheim was every day increasing his ascendancy over
the Turkish Cabinet, and Turkey was then pursuing the course that best
served the German aims. Her policy was keeping the Entente on
tenterhooks; it never knew from day to day where Turkey stood, whether
she would remain neutral or enter the war on Germany’s side. Because
Turkey’s attitude was so uncertain Russia was compelled to keep large
forces on the Caucasus, England was obliged to strengthen her forces in
Egypt and India, and to maintain a considerable fleet at the mouth of
the Dardanelles. All this worked in beautifully with Germany’s plans,
for these detached forces just so much weakened England and Russia on
the European battle-front. I am now speaking of the period just before
the Marne, when Germany expected to defeat France and Russia with the
aid of her ally, Austria, and thus obtain a victory that would have
enabled her to dictate the future of Europe. Should Turkey at that time
be actually engaged in military operations, she could do no more toward
bringing about this victory than she was doing now, by keeping
considerable Russian and English forces away from the most important
fronts. But, should Germany win this easy victory with Turkey’s aid, she
might find her new ally an embarrassment. Turkey would certainly demand
compensation, and she would not be particularly modest in her demands,
which most likely would include the return of Egypt and perhaps the
recession of Balkan territories. Such readjustments would have
interfered with the Kaiser’s plans. Thus he had no interest in having
Turkey as an active ally, except in the event that he did not win his
speedily anticipated triumph. But, if Russia should make great progress
against Austria, then Turkey’s active alliance would have great military
value, especially if her entry should be so timed as to bring in
Bulgaria and Rumania. Meanwhile Wangenheim was playing a waiting game,
making Turkey a potential German ally, strengthening her army and her
navy, and preparing to use her, whenever the moment arrived for using
her, to the best advantage. If Germany could not win the war without
Turkey’s aid, Germany was prepared to take her in as an ally; if she
could win without Turkey, then she would not have to pay the Turk for
his co-operation. Meanwhile the sensible course was to keep her prepared
in case the Turkish forces became essential to German success.
The duel that now took place between Germany and the Entente for
Turkey’s favour was a most unequal one. The fact was that Germany had
won the victory when she smuggled the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ into
the Sea of Marmora. The English, French, and Russian Ambassadors well
understood this, and they knew that they could not make Turkey an active
ally of the Entente; they probably had no desire to do so, but they did
have hopes that they could keep her neutral. To this end they now
directed all their efforts. “You have had enough of war,” they would
tell Talaat and Enver. “You have fought three wars in the last four
years; you will ruin your country absolutely if you get involved in this
one.” The Entente had only one consideration to offer Turkey for her
neutrality, and this was an offer to guarantee the integrity of the
Ottoman Empire. The Entente Ambassadors showed their great desire to
keep Turkey out of the war by their disinclination to press to the limit
their case against the _Breslau_ and the _Goeben_. It is true that they
repeatedly protested against the continued presence of these ships, but
every time the Turkish officials maintained that they were Turkish
vessels.
“If that is so,” Sir Louis Mallet would urge, and his argument was
unassailable, “why don’t you remove the German officers and crew?” That
was the intention, the Grand Vizier would answer. The Turkish crews that
had been sent to man the ships which had been built in England, he would
say, were returning to Turkey, and they would be put on board the
_Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ as soon as they reached Constantinople. But
days and weeks went by; these crews came home, and still Germany manned
and officered the cruisers. These backings and fillings naturally did
not deceive the British and French Foreign Offices. The presence of the
_Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ was a standing _casus belli_, but the Entente
Ambassadors did not demand their passports, for such an act would have
precipitated the very crisis which they were seeking to delay, and, if
possible, to avoid--Turkey’s entrance as Germany’s ally. Unhappily, the
Entente’s promise to guarantee Turkey’s integrity did not win Turkey to
their side.
“They promised that we should not be dismembered after the Balkan wars,”
Talaat would tell me, “and see what happened to European Turkey then.”
Wangenheim constantly harped upon this fact. “You can’t trust anything
they say,” he would tell Talaat and Enver; “didn’t they all go back on
you a year ago?” And then with great cleverness he would play upon the
only emotion which really actuates the Turk. The descendants of Osman
hardly resemble any people I have ever known. They do not hate, they do
not love; they have no lasting animosities or affections. They only
fear. And naturally they attribute to others the motives which regulate
their own conduct. “How stupid you are!” Wangenheim would tell Talaat
and Enver, discussing the English attitude. “Don’t you see why the
English want you to keep out? It is because they fear you. Don’t you see
that, with the help of Germany, you have again become a great military
power? No wonder England doesn’t want to fight you!” He dinned this so
continually in their ears that they finally believed it, for this
argument not only completely explained the attitude of the Entente, but
it flattered Turkish pride.
Whatever may have been the attitude of Enver and Talaat, I think that
England and France were more popular with all classes in Turkey than was
Germany. The Sultan was opposed to war; the heir-apparent, Youssouff
Izzadin, was openly pro-Ally; the Grand Vizier, Saïd Halim, favoured
England rather than Germany; Djemal, the third member of the ruling
triumvirate, had the reputation of being a Francophile--he had recently
returned from Paris, where the reception he had received had greatly
flattered him; a majority of the Cabinet had no enthusiasm for Germany;
and public opinion, so far as public opinion existed in Turkey, regarded
England, not Germany, as Turkey’s historic friend. Wangenheim,
therefore, had much opposition to overcome, and the methods which he
took to break it down form a classic illustration of German propaganda.
He started a lavish publicity campaign against England, France, and
Russia. I have described the feelings of the Turks at losing their ships
in England. Wangenheim’s agents now filled columns of purchased space in
the newspapers with bitter attacks on England for taking over these
vessels. The whole Turkish Press rapidly passed under the control of
Germany. Wangenheim purchased the _Ikdam_, one of the largest Turkish
newspapers, which immediately began to sing the praises of Germany and
to abuse the Entente. The _Osmanischer Lloyd_, published in French and
German, became an organ of the German Embassy. Although the Turkish
Constitution guaranteed a free Press, a censorship was established in
the interest of the Central Powers. All Turkish editors were ordered to
write in Germany’s favour, and they obeyed instructions. The _Jeune
Turc_, a pro-Entente newspaper, printed in French, was suppressed. The
Turkish papers exaggerated German victories and completely manufactured
others; they were constantly printing the news of Entente defeats, most
of them wholly imaginary. In the evening Wangenheim and Pallavicini
would show me official telegrams giving the details of military
operations, but when, in the morning, I would look in the newspapers, I
would find that this news had been twisted or falsified in Germany’s
favour. A certain Baron Oppenheim travelled all over Turkey
manufacturing public opinion against England and France. Ostensibly he
was an archæologist, while in reality he opened offices everywhere from
which issued streams of slanders against the Entente. Huge maps were
pasted on walls, showing all the territory which Turkey had lost in the
course of a century. Russia was portrayed as the nation chiefly
responsible for these “robberies,” and attention was drawn to the fact
that England had now become Russia’s ally. Pictures were published,
showing the grasping powers of the Entente as rapacious animals,
snatching away at poor Turkey. Enver was advertised as the “hero” who
had recovered Adrianople; Germany was pictured as Turkey’s friend; the
Kaiser suddenly became “Hadji Wilhelm,” the great protector of Islam,
and stories were even printed that he had become a convert to
Mohammedanism. The Turkish populace was informed that the Moslems of
India and of Egypt were about to revolt and throw off their English
“tyrants.” The Turkish man-on-the-street was taught to say _Gott Strafe
England_, and all the time the motive-power of this infamous campaign
was German money.
But Germany was doing more than poisoning the Turkish mind; she was
appropriating Turkey’s military resources. I have already described how,
in January, 1914, the Kaiser had taken over the Turkish Army and
rehabilitated it in preparation for the European war. He now proceeded
to do the same thing with the Turkish Navy. In August Wangenheim boasted
to me that, “We now control both the Turkish Army and Navy.” At the time
the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_ arrived, an English mission, headed by
Admiral Limpus, was hard at work restoring the Turkish Navy. Soon
afterward Limpus and his associates were unceremoniously dismissed. The
manner of their going was really disgraceful, for not even the most
ordinary courtesies were shown them. The English naval officers quietly
and unobservedly left Constantinople for England--all except the Admiral
himself, who had to remain longer because of his daughter’s illness.
Night after night whole carloads of Germans landed at Constantinople
from Berlin; the aggregations to the population finally amounted to
3,800 men, most of them sent to man the Turkish Navy and to manufacture
ammunition. They filled the cafés every night, and they paraded the
streets of Constantinople in the small hours of the morning, howling and
singing German patriotic songs. Many of them were skilled mechanics, who
immediately went to work repairing the destroyers and other ships and
putting them in shape for war. The British firm of Armstrong and Vickers
had a splendid dock in Constantinople, and this the Germans now
appropriated. All day and night we could hear this work going on, and we
could hardly sleep because of the hubbub of riveting and hammering.
Wangenheim now found another opportunity for instilling more poison into
the minds of Enver, Talaat, and Djemal. The German workers, he declared,
had found that the Turkish ships were in a desperate state of disrepair,
and for this he naturally blamed the English naval mission. He said that
England had deliberately let the Turkish Navy go to decay, and he
asserted that this was all part of England’s plot to ruin Turkey!
“Look!” he would exclaim, “see what we Germans have done for the Turkish
Army, and see what the English have done for your ships!” As a matter of
fact, all this was untrue, for Admiral Limpus had worked hard and
conscientiously to improve the Navy, and had accomplished excellent
results in that direction.
All this time the Germans were working at the Dardanelles, seeking to
strengthen the fortifications, and preparing for a possible Allied
attack. As September lengthened into October, the Sublime Porte
practically ceased to be the headquarters of the Ottoman Empire. I
really think that the most powerful seat of authority at that time was a
German merchant-ship, the _General_. It was moored in the Golden Horn,
near the Galata Bridge, and a permanent stairway had been built, leading
to its deck. I knew well one of the most frequent visitors to this ship,
an American who used to come to the Embassy and entertain me with
stories of what was going on.
The _General_, this friend now informed me, was practically a German
club or hotel. The officers of the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ and other
German officers who had been sent to command the Turkish ships ate and
slept on board. Admiral Souchon, who had brought the German cruisers to
Constantinople, presided over these gatherings. Souchon was a man of
French Huguenot extraction; he was a short, dapper, clean-cut sailor,
very energetic and alert, and to the German passion for command and
thoroughness he added much of the Gallic geniality and buoyancy.
Naturally he gave much liveliness to the evening parties on the
_General_, and the beer and champagne which were liberally dispensed on
these occasions loosened the tongues of his fellow-officers. Their
conversation showed that they entertained no illusions as to who really
controlled the Turkish Navy. Night after night their impatience for
action grew; they kept declaring that, if Turkey did not presently
attack the Russians, they would force her to do so. They would relate
how they had sent German ships into the Black Sea in the hope of
provoking the Russian fleet to some action that would make war
inevitable. Toward the end of October my friend told me that hostilities
could not much longer be avoided; the Turkish fleet had been fitted for
action, everything was ready, and the impetuosity of these
_kriegslustige_ German officers could not much longer be restrained.
“They are just like a lot of boys with chips on their shoulders. They
are simply spoiling for a fight!” he said.