ATTEMPTED SOLUTIONS
All this year then the occupying powers could come to no decision about
the constitution of Poland, Austria made proposal after proposal,
leaning towards the ‘Austrian Solution,’ to each of which Germany
demurred, on the ground that any such arrangement would give too great a
preponderance to her Ally. Also German opinion--that is to say, the
opinion of the governing classes in Germany--was crucially divided.
Bethmann-Hollweg, for instance, was in favour of transforming Poland
into a sort of buffer-state between Russia (which was not yet
disintegrated) and Germany, giving her some semblance of independence,
but really placing her under the political and economical control of
Berlin. To this arrangement Austria objected, as did also the more
pronouncedly Junker party in Germany itself, which, under the lead of
the Crown Prince and Hindenburg, preferred open annexation, not of
Poland only, but of Lithuania and Courland. Other ‘orientations’ in
Germany favoured a fresh partition of the Kingdom of Poland, assigning
to Germany some three millions of its inhabitants, and leaving the
remainder to Austria. There would follow a fresh partition of Galicia,
of which the Western part would go to Austria and the Eastern be joined
on to the government of Cholm. This was tantamount to a fresh partition
of Poland, to which Count Audrassy was (very rightly) opposed from the
point of view of the Central Empires, saying that such an arrangement
would but throw Poland back into Russian arms. From a military point of
view the advantages of complete annexation, with this further partition,
were to be found in the rectification of Germany’s Eastern frontier, in
which the Kingdom of Poland at present forms a huge salient;
politically, it would result in the complete destruction of Polish
nationality. On the other hand politicians who favoured the
establishment of a new state dependent on Germany, argued that
annexation would merely increase the influence of the Polish element in
the German Empire, in which already there were incorporated 4,000,000
Poles. They therefore worked for a small weak Polish state, under the
military and political control of Germany, the weakness of which would
be accentuated by the large number of Jews, to whom they would give a
separate national existence, and use as Germanizing agents. Thus the
danger of a strengthened Polish influence within the empire would be
avoided, and Polish nationality would be gradually crippled. As a
counterblast, as mild as the remote bleating of a sheep, against any
arrangement of the sort being made, the Duma, with unconscious humour,
proposed a complete dismemberment of Germany, and reiterated the
meaningless phrase about the re-union of Poland, over which Russia had
no longer the smallest control.
Poland, in fact, was being wooed by both the Central Empires, not so
much, perhaps, as a desirable maiden, but as a fly that hovered between
the webs of two spiders, and Austria, as a measure of enticement, ceded
the district of Cholm back to Poland. But this scheme of uniting Galicia
with Russian Poland, under a Habsburg regent was not, as we have seen,
acceptable to Germany, particularly when Austria suggested that the
Duchy of Posen should also become part of the new independent kingdom.
There was a certain equity about the suggestion, for if Austria
contributed Galicia, it was but reasonable that Germany should make some
corresponding cession. But Germany was not on the look-out for
equitable arrangements: she foresaw that it would be necessary to grant
some sort of constitution to the occupied territory, and very likely to
throw in the adjective ‘independent,’ but the independence that she
designed connoted a dependence on herself, and as largely as possible a
measure of independence with respect to Austria. She did not, either,
look with any favour on Austria’s selection of a regent, for Austria had
tentatively selected the Archduke Charles, who had married his two
daughters to Polish nobles, namely, Prince Dominic Radziwill and Prince
Czartoryski, and himself lived in Galicia, spoke Polish and was of
strong Polish sympathies. So from time to time she threw out the name of
a German candidate, suggesting, for instance, Prince Leopold of Bavaria
and Prince Eitel Friedrich, the Kaiser’s second son. Once during the
summer of 1916, Germany apparently made up her mind on a compromise, and
settled to proclaim Prince Leopold as regent and to accept the rest of
the Austrian solution with him as counter-weight, and the Chancellor
went to Vienna to conclude matters, in the hope that Germany would be
able to raise at least half a million men for her armies on the
enthusiasm aroused by this proclamation. But the Emperor Franz Joseph
roundly told him that such an arrangement would cause an insurrection
in Poland, and Germany had to yield. In fact a German prince on the
throne of Poland was as unacceptable to Austria as an Austrian prince to
Germany, or either an Austrian or German prince to the national
sentiment of Poland. Indeed, the solution as to the choice of a regent
for Poland has not yet been solved, and is likely to remain insoluble,
unless some military or internal crisis tightens Germany’s grip on
Austria, who may then be forced to accept a German nominee.
On the other hand, though the joining of Galicia to Poland, under a
Habsburg regent, who at any rate would be more acceptable to a Catholic
country[17] than any one whom Germany could suggest, would give a
preponderating influence to Austria in Polish affairs, Germany saw that
certain equalizing adjustments might be made here. Since the new state
would have a large measure of autonomy, it was only reasonable that the
Poles who sat in the Reichsrat should sit there no longer, for the
Polish membership would be localized in the Senate or Diet (or whatever
form of Government the “Austrian Solution” should give to Poland), and
Germany foresaw an accession of seats in the Reichsrat that would
increase her preponderance there over Czechs and Slovenes. But against
the increased preponderance of the German element in the Reichsrat must
be set the fact that with the establishment of the new state
Poland-cum-Galicia, the Reichsrat, instead of representing half the Dual
Monarchy would for the future represent only a third. More than once
during this year she came near to accepting some sort of Austrian
Solution, always providing that there should be no question of her
giving up any part of Germany at all, as a compensation for Austria’s
loss of Galicia. Indeed, she could not accept the formula “los von
Galizien”: she referred to it as the acquisition of Poland. Germany, in
fact, during the whole of this period was cudgelling her brains for a
solution that would be wholly favourable to herself.
A point on which the two Central Empires were quite agreed--indeed, this
is the only point on which they were agreed as regards the future of
Poland--was that it must never again come within the sphere of Russian
influence. While Russia was still a power to be reckoned with, Germany
contemplated a Poland with some vague measure of autonomy and possibly
even a Poland with access to the Baltic, not, it is hardly necessary to
say, the Dantzig access, but an access through Courland. Some sort of
buffer state, leaning on her, with a function similar to what she would
desire to establish in Belgium with respect to France, was not
inacceptable to her as existent between her and Russia. Lithuania and
the northern part of the Kingdom of Poland would answer the purpose.
Austria would have liked precisely the same thing, but in this case the
Kingdom of Poland and Galicia would make the buffer for her, while
Germany wanted the buffer further north. Both were agreed (or so it
seems) on having a Poland with some sort of nominal independence
interposed between them and the power that they then still feared, but
they kept shifting the proposed site of this bolster like uneasy
bedfellows. Furthermore, Germany was in the fortunate position of a
potential blackmailer; her armies had already saved Austria from what,
but for her, would have been an irresistible Russian advance through
Galicia, and Russia was still powerful and coherent enough to advance
there again. Should that occur, and should Germany refuse to threaten
the Russian right flank, as she had done before, Austria would be in a
very uncomfortable place indeed. The defeat of Austria, no doubt, would
seriously menace Germany in this case, but Austria’s “turn” would come
first. This constituted a decent blackmailing case with regard to the
disposition of the bolster.
Given some settlement of that, they were both determined in unbreakable
harmony that Russia should not have a friend in Poland. True to her
dilatory nature which has always locked the stable-door long after the
horse has been stolen, Russia who, up till the last moment when she was
finally swept out of Poland had always had the opportunity of appearing
desirous to substantiate the Grand Duke Nicholas’ promise on behalf of
the Crown, and of feeding the horse while it was in the Russian stable,
began to show it--only show it--bushels of oats after it had been
stolen, and had passed out of the stable altogether. What prompted this
belated exhibition of oats was the action of M. Dmowski on behalf of the
Polish national Committee in Petrograd. As leader of the National
Democrats, he determined to bring pressure on Russia by means of
enlisting the sympathy of the Western Entente powers for Poland, went
to Paris and presented a memorandum to M. Isvolsky, the Russian
Ambassador there. The chief points in this were--
(i) It is in the interest of all the nations menaced by Germany to
reunite the dismembered portions of Poland in one free state, and
to give it complete liberty to organize its national forces and
oppose them to the German peril.
(ii) The Poles, who form a people more numerous and more advanced
than any of the smaller nationalities of Central Europe and the
Balkans, have the same right as they to be an independent national
state, and they cannot in conscience renounce this right which has
been recognised by all the other nationalities.
(iii) By recognising this right Russia and her Allies would arouse
the enthusiasm and suppress at the same time the suspicion of other
nationalities who are solicitous for their independence, and who
would all then rise against Germany.
The precise application of this last clause is not very apparent (it
refers, I imagine, to Balkan states), but this memorandum and the
action of M. Dmowski in enlisting the sympathies of Paris and London
much impressed the Russian Government, and in especial Sazonoff, who
thought it was necessary for Russia to settle the Polish question at
once on Russian lines, for fear of its becoming an international
question. Towards the end of April, accordingly, he presented a
memorandum to the Tsar, urging that the Polish question should be
determined without delay, since not only Germany and Austria were
preparing a solution of it, but the Western powers of the Entente were
also being interested in it. With this memorandum Sazonoff presented the
Tsar with a project for Polish autonomy.
In July, 1916, this project of Polish autonomy was discussed in a
Ministerial Council at Petrograd, and the idea of a Poland unconnected
with Russia was dismissed as impossible. Of all the Cabinet at Petrograd
at that date, Sazonoff was the only man who realised that to win Polish
allegiance back for Russia it was necessary not only to make promises
but to do something as earnest of their fulfilment, such as the
amelioration of the misery of the Poles then in Russia, or to make
solemn reiteration on the part of Russia with regard to Polish
independence. His motives seem to have been those of a keen Russian
nationalist, desirous of gratifying Polish aspirations in order to
secure Poland’s adhesion to Russia, and at the same time to prevent the
Polish question becoming an international interest. At this Council he
came to loggerheads with Stürmer, whose sympathies with Germany were
notorious, and who, in opposition to Sazonoff’s policy, persuaded the
Tsar to take no definite step at all in the Polish question, thus
playing the German game and helping to alienate Polish sympathies from
Russia altogether. The upshot was that Sazonoff sent in his resignation
or, as there is good reason to believe, was dismissed, and Germany
scored another signal victory, from the Mittel-Europa point of view, in
the retention of Stürmer, a German agent, in the Russian Cabinet.
At once a reactionary tendency set in in Russia: it was argued (here was
the voice of Stürmer) that the Russian military situation was excellent,
and that Germany was weakening. As a corollary it followed that the
proposed union of Poland (i.e. the formation of an independent kingdom
consisting of German, Austrian and Russian Poland) was of no profit to
Russia: Russia would have united Poland only to lose Poland. This view,
of course, finally disposed of any significance that could be attached
to the Grand Duke’s proclamation. It had resulted in nothing hitherto:
now it was simply torn to shreds. “_We have been led into this war_,”
said Stürmer’s voice, “_against our national interests_.” That one
sentence gives the measure of the German penetration into Russia,
hitherto unsuspected, and not recognised even then.
So, under German dictation, the friendly hands which Russia seemed to
desire to put out to Poland, though long after the time for such mere
gesture was past, were covered with German gloves, and held the dagger
which should stab the very heart of all real Polish national sentiment.
On August 12th, 1916, there was circulated a private draft concerning
the constitution of Poland, which was a miracle of efficient
composition, seeing that its object was to alienate the Poles from
Russia. The provisions in it that are of interest are the following--
(i) A united Kingdom of Poland to be formed with its own Diet.
(ii) Questions concerned with the interests of all subjects of the
Tsar, including Poles, to be decided by the Imperial Houses of
Parliament.
(iii) The state language of United Poland to be Polish. Russian to
be taught in schools.
(iv) Frontiers of the new Polish state to be determined after the
war.
Surely there was the German leaven beginning to work. None knew better
than she that this sort of thing was the precise and perfect way of
alienating Poland from Russia, and embittering Polish feeling: she could
not have drafted a more satisfactory proposal herself at Berlin. It
promised nothing except a Diet, the functions of which were left
entirely vague. For all that was said, the legislation of the Diet might
be overruled by the Duma or the Cabinet or the Tsar. Poles were included
among the subjects of the Tsar, and questions relating to them were to
be settled at Petrograd: no frontiers of the new independent state
(which by these very provisions was completely dependent on Russia) were
so much as indicated. Russia was preparing to hang herself in the rope
that Germany gave her. But Germany was in no hurry, and gave Russia some
more rope to ensure a longer drop.
It was worth waiting, for in October, 1916, Russia had fixed on her neck
the longer rope. This time a Nationalist member of the Duma, called
Tchikatchov, propounded a scheme for Polish autonomy, which was
published and submitted to the Russian Government. It suggested that--
(i) The limits of Russia should be defined, lest Russia,
“swallowing Poland, should be poisoned by her.” White Russia and
Little Russia must be independent of Poland.
(ii) A danger to be averted is the influence of Poles, whether
German, Austrian or Jewish, on Russia.
(iii) Russia must be “at home” in Poland, and the Russian language
must be used in public utterances.
(iv) All official positions in Poland must be filled by Poles, but
no official positions in Russia must be filled by them.
(v) The Secretary of State for Poland must be a Russian.
(vi) Cholm and Eastern Galicia must be excluded from Poland, and
belong to Russia.
Now is it possible to conceive a better _mise-en-scene_ for a German
declaration of independence for Poland than these amazing Russian
utterances? Both received favourable consideration from the Russian
Government, and between them (given that Russia in the event of her
victory over Germany embodied them in a constitution for Poland) they
left no shadow or semblance of independence at all. Poles might fill
official posts in Poland, but they would no longer be able to occupy any
position at all in Russia. Their seats in the Duma would be taken from
them, and whatever conclusions they came to as to the government of
Poland (whatever “Poland” might prove to be when its frontiers were
defined) would be referred to the decision of the Duma, since Poles were
still subjects of the Tsar, and Poles would no longer have seats in the
Duma. The Secretary of State was to be a Russian, and in effect this
scheme for the independence of Poland merely deprived the Poles of their
seats in the Imperial Parliament. All decisions of the Polish Diet were
to be referred to Petrograd, and instead of gaining liberties, they
would but sacrifice any such liberties as they previously had. It is
precisely as if Ireland were to lose her seats at Westminster and have a
separate Parliament of her own, the legislation of which, before it
took effect, would have to be referred to Westminster. Already, also,
Cholm had been given back to the Poles by Austria; now this scheme
confiscated it again. It is impossible to imagine a more signal triumph
for German influence than this, for of all Russia’s century of political
imbecility with regard to Poland, here was the very flower and felicity.
So Germany had not lost much by her year of waiting before she began to
take any practical measures concerning the future constitution of
Poland. She had on the contrary enabled Poland to see with devastating
clearness that even if the Russian armies (as seemed highly improbable)
gained a smashing victory over Germany, the Poles must not expect
anything from the conqueror. She had, too, by October, 1916, blackmailed
Austria into abandonment, as an official programme, of the Austrian
solution, and by this year of waiting she had caused to spring up in
Poland many shades of feeling, which formed themselves into parties,
negligible for the most part, and divided among themselves. With regard
to them, she could reflect with cynical truth that there was “safety in
numbers.” But solid against her, and she knew it, was Polish national
sentiment which underlay all the bickering little parties into which
Poland was split up. What would have satisfied all parties (and nothing
else would have satisfied them all) would have been the creation of a
real united and independent Poland, at the idea of which Germany could
laugh, not in her sleeve but quite openly. What probably added resonance
to her laughter was the public and official utterances of the notorious
Protopopoff in Paris during this month, which certainly were humorous,
considering the frankness with which the Russian Government had declared
its intentions. He announced that “a great Poland will arise, which will
unite all the Poles, Russian, German and Austrian. It will be a Poland
enjoying its own government, its own Parliament and its own language.
This must happen, because it is the wish of the whole of Russia.” There
was never a more irresponsible and futile utterance, and it deceived
nobody.
Simultaneously, in prompt contradiction, came a semi-official utterance
from Russia, proclaiming that “never will the Russian people consent
that a span of Russian earth should return to Poland, or an orthodox
Russian submit to even a shadow of Polish authority.” And Stürmer, then
Minister of the Interior, issued a regulation prohibiting the evacuated
population of Poland, Lithuania and the Baltic provinces from using
Polish at public meetings. There could scarcely have been framed a
completer comment on Russia’s benevolent intentions, and on her sympathy
with Poland, and with Poland’s national aspirations.
Germany could hardly do more than say “Amen”; her prayer was answered,
and Russia had hanged herself. And since no one else seemed inclined to
proclaim the independence of Poland, she proceeded with infinite irony
and the fervent consent of the All-Highest to do it herself. This
proclamation was issued by the Central Empires on November 5th, 1916.
* * * * *
All this year the famine in Poland had continued and Germany had taken
no steps to relieve it, for she hoped to encourage Polish emigration to
smiling, welcoming Germany by its means. In the same way, when the
citizens of Warsaw sent a petition to von Beseler that factories should
be reopened, he replied that anybody could get work in Germany. At this
time 47 per cent. of the population of Warsaw were dependent on relief.