Having thus examined the atmosphere of opinion in which the German
Government moved, let us proceed to consider the actual course of their
policy during the critical years, fifteen or so, that preceded the war.
The policy admittedly and openly was one of "expansion." But "expansion"
where? It seems to be rather widely supposed that Germany was preparing war
in order to annex territory in Europe. The contempt of German imperialists,
from Treitschke onward, for the rights of small States, the racial theories
which included in "German" territory Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, and the
Scandinavian countries, may seem to give colour to this idea. But it would
be hazardous to assume that German statesmen were seriously influenced
for years by the lucubrations of Mr. Houston Stewart Chamberlain and
his followers. Nor can a long-prepared policy of annexation in Europe
be inferred from the fact that Belgium and France were invaded after the
war broke out, or even from the present demand among German parties that
the territories occupied should be retained. If it could be maintained
that the seizure of territory during war, or even its retention after
it, is evidence that the territory was the object of the war, it would
be legitimate also to infer that the British Empire has gone to war
to annex German colonies, a conclusion which Englishmen would probably
reject with indignation. In truth, before the war, the view that it was
the object of German policy to annex European territory would have found,
I think, few, if any, supporters among well-informed and unprejudiced
observers. I note, for instance, that Mr. Dawson, whose opinion on such
a point is probably better worth having than that of any other Englishman,
in his book, "The Evolution of Modern Germany,"[1] when discussing the aims
of German policy does not even refer to the idea that annexations in Europe
are contemplated.
So far as the evidence at present goes, I do not think a case can be
made out for the view that German policy was aiming during these years
at securing the hegemony of Europe by annexing European territory. The
expansion Germany was seeking was that of trade and markets. And her
statesmen and people, like those of other countries, were under the
belief that, to secure this, it was necessary to acquire colonies. This
ambition, up to a point, she was able, in fact, to fulfil, not by force
but by agreement with the other Powers. The Berlin Act of 1885 was one
of the wisest and most far-seeing achievements of European policy. By it
the partition of a great part of the African continent between the Powers
was peaceably accomplished, and Germany emerged with possessions to the
extent of 377,000 square miles and an estimated population of 1,700,000.
By 1906 her colonial domain had been increased to over two and a half
million square miles, and its population to over twelve millions; and all
of this had been acquired without war with any civilized nation. In spite
of her late arrival on the scene as a colonial Power, Germany had thus
secured without war an empire overseas, not comparable, indeed, to that
of Great Britain or of France, but still considerable in extent and
(as Germans believed) in economic promise, and sufficient to give them
the opportunity they desired to show their capacity as pioneers of
civilization. How they have succeeded or failed in this we need not here
consider. But when Germans demand a "place in the sun," the considerable
place they have in fact acquired, with the acquiescence of the other
colonial Powers, should, in fairness to those Powers, be remembered.
But, notoriously, they were not satisfied, and the extent of their
dissatisfaction was shown by their determination to create a navy. This
new departure, dating from the close of the decade 1890-1900, marks the
beginning of that friction between Great Britain and Germany which was a
main cause of the war. It is therefore important to form some just idea
of the motives that inspired German policy to take this momentous step.
The reasons given by Prince Bülow, the founder of the policy, and often
repeated by German statesmen and publicists,[2] are, first, the need of a
strong navy, to protect German commerce; secondly, the need, as well as the
ambition, of Germany to play a part proportional to her real strength in
the determination of policy beyond the seas. These reasons, according to
the ideas that govern European statesmanship, are valid and sufficient.
They are the same that have influenced all great Powers; and if Germany
was influenced by them we need not infer any specially sinister intentions
on her part. The fact that during the present war German trade has been
swept from the seas, and that she is in the position of a blockaded Power,
will certainly convince any German patriot, not that she did not need a
navy, but that she needed a much stronger one; and the retort that there
need have been no war if Germany had not provoked it by building a fleet
is not one that can be expected to appeal to any nation so long as the
European anarchy endures. For, of course, every nation regards itself
as menaced perpetually by aggression from some other Power. Defence was
certainly a legitimate motive for the building of the fleet, even if
there had been no other. There was, however, in fact, another reason
avowed. Germany, as we have said, desired to have a voice in policy
beyond the seas. Here, too, the reason is good, as reasons go in a
world of competing States. A great manufacturing and trading Power
cannot be indifferent to the parcelling out of the world among its
rivals. Wherever, in countries economically undeveloped, there were
projects of protectorates or annexations, or of any kind of monopoly
to be established in the interest of any Power, there German interests
were directly affected. She had to speak, and to speak with a loud voice,
if she was to be attended to. And a loud voice meant a navy. So, at least,
the matter naturally presented itself to German imperialists, as, indeed,
it would to imperialists of any other country.
The reasons given by German statesmen for building their fleet were in
this sense valid. But were they the only reasons? In the beginning most
probably they were. But the formation and strengthening of the Entente,
and Germany's consequent fear that war might be made upon her jointly by
France and Great Britain, gave a new stimulus to her naval ambition. She
could not now be content with a navy only as big as that of France, for she
might have to meet those of France and England conjoined. This defensive
reason is good. But no doubt, as always, there must have lurked behind it
ideas of aggression. Ambition, in the philosophy of States, goes hand in
hand with fear. "The war may come," says one party. "Yes," says the other;
and secretly mutters, "May the war come!" To ask whether armaments are for
offence or for defence must always be an idle inquiry. They will be for
either, or both, according to circumstances, according to the personalities
that are in power, according to the mood that politicians and journalists,
and the interests that suborn them, have been able to infuse into a nation.
But what may be said with clear conviction is, that to attempt to account
for the clash of war by the ambition and armaments of a single Power is
to think far too simply of how these catastrophes originate. The truth,
in this case, is that German ambition developed in relation to the whole
European situation, and that, just as on land their policy was conditioned
by their relation to France and Russia, so at sea it was conditioned by
their relation to Great Britain. They knew that their determination to
become a great Power at sea would arouse the suspicion and alarm of the
English. Prince Bülow is perfectly frank about that. He says that the
difficulty was to get on with the shipbuilding programme without giving
Great Britain an opportunity to intervene by force and nip the enterprise
in the bud. He attributes here to the British Government a policy which
is all in the Bismarckian tradition. It was, in fact, a policy urged by
some voices here, voices which, as is always the case, were carried to
Germany and magnified by the mega-phone of the Press.[3] That no British
Government, in fact, contemplated picking a quarrel with Germany in order
to prevent her becoming a naval Power I am myself as much convinced as any
other Englishman, and I count the fact as righteousness to our statesmen.
On the other hand, I think it an unfounded conjecture that Prince Bülow was
deliberately building with a view to attacking the British Empire. I see
no reason to doubt his sincerity when he says that he looked forward to a
peaceful solution of the rivalry between Germany and ourselves, and that
France, in his view, not Great Britain, was the irreconcilable enemy.[4]
In building her navy, no doubt, Germany deliberately took the risk of
incurring a quarrel with England in the pursuit of a policy which she
regarded as essential to her development. It is quite another thing,
and would require much evidence to prove that she was working up to a
war with the object of destroying the British Empire.
What we have to bear in mind, in estimating the meaning of the German
naval policy, is a complex series of motives and conditions: the genuine
need of a navy, and a strong one, to protect trade in the event of war,
and to secure a voice in overseas policy; the genuine fear of an attack by
the Powers of the Entente, an attack to be provoked by British jealousy;
and also that indeterminate ambition of any great Power which may be
influencing the policy of statesmen even while they have not avowed it to
themselves, and which, expressed by men less responsible and less discreet,
becomes part of that "public opinion" of which policy takes account.
[Footnote 1: Published in 1908.]
[Footnote 2: See, e.g., Dawson, "Evolution of Modern Germany," p. 348.]
[Footnote 3: Some of these are cited in Bülow's "Imperial Germany," p. 36.]
[Footnote 4: See "Imperial Germany," pp. 48, 71, English translation.]