build up France almost _de nova_. Nearly everything was wanting. The
treasury was nearly empty, and that too in face of the enormous demands
made by Germany. It is said that in February 1871, the unhappy man who
took up the Ministry of Finance, carried away all the funds of the
national exchequer in his hat. As Thiers confessed to the Assembly, he
had, for very patriotism, to close his eyes to the future and grapple
with the problems of every day as they arose. But he had faith in
France, and France had faith in him. The French people can perform
wonders when they thoroughly trust their rulers. The inexhaustible
wealth inherent in their soil, the thrift of the peasantry, and the
self-sacrificing ardour shown by the nation when nerved by a high ideal,
constituted an asset of unsuspected strength in face of the staggering
blows dealt to French wealth and credit. The losses caused by the war,
the Commune, and the cession of the eastern districts, involved losses
that have been reckoned at more than £614,000,000. Apart from the
1,597,000 inhabitants transferred to German rule, the loss of population
due to the war and the civil strifes has been put as high as 491,000
souls[66].
[Footnote 65: They included the right to hold four more Departments
until the third half milliard (£20,000,000, that is, £60,000,000 in all)
had been paid. A commercial treaty on favourable terms, those of the
"most favoured nation," was arranged, as also an exchange of frontier
strips near Luxemburg and Belfort. Germany acquired Elsass (Alsace) and
part of Lorraine, free of all their debts.
We may note here that the Anglo-French Treaty of Commerce arranged in
1860 with Napoleon largely by the aid of Cobden, was not renewed by the
French Republic, which thereafter began to exclude British goods.
Bismarck forced France at Frankfurt to concede favourable terms to
German products. England was helpless. For this subject, see _Protection
in France_, by H.O. Meredith (1905).]
[Footnote 66: Quoted by M. Hanotaux, _Contemporary France_, vol. i. pp.
323-327.]
Yet France flung herself with triumphant energy into the task of paying
off the invaders. At the close of June 1871, a loan for two milliards
and a quarter (£90,000,000) was opened for subscription, and proved to
be an immense success. The required amount was more than doubled. By
means of the help of international banks, the first half milliard of the
debt was paid off in July 1871, and Normandy was freed from the burden
of German occupation. We need not detail the dates of the successive
payments. They revealed the unsuspected vitality of France and the
energy of her Government and financiers. In March 1873, the arrangements
for the payment of the last instalment were made, and in the autumn of
that year the last German troops left Verdun and Belfort. For his great
services in bending all the powers of France to this great financial
feat, Thiers was universally acclaimed as the Liberator of the
Territory.
Yet that very same period saw him overthrown. To read this riddle
aright, we must review the outlines of French internal politics. We have
already referred to the causes that sent up a monarchical majority to
the National Assembly, the schisms that weakened the action of that
majority, and the peculiar position held by M. Thiers, an Orleanist in
theory, but the chief magistrate of the French Republic. No more
paradoxical situation has ever existed; and its oddity was enhanced by
the usually clear-cut logicality of French political thought. Now, after
the war and the Commune, the outlook was dim, even to the keenest sight.
One thing alone was clear, the duty of all citizens to defer raising any
burning question until law, order, and the national finances were
re-established. It was the perception of this truth that led to the
provisional truce between the parties known as the Compact of Bordeaux.
Flagrantly broken by the "Reds" of Paris in the spring of 1871, that
agreement seemed doomed. The Republic itself was in danger of perishing
as it did after the socialistic extravagances of the Revolution of 1848.
But Thiers at once disappointed the monarchists by stoutly declaring
that he would not abet the overthrow of the Republic: "We found the
Republic established, as a fact of which we are not the authors; but I
will not destroy the form of government which I am now using to restore
order. . . . When all is settled, the country will have the liberty to
choose as it pleases in what concerns its future destinies[67]."
Skilfully pointing the factions to the future as offering a final reward
for their virtuous self-restraint, this masterly tactician gained time
in which to heal the worst wounds dealt by the war.
[Footnote 67: Speech of March 27, 1871.]
But it was amidst unending difficulties. The Monarchists, eager to
emphasise the political reaction set in motion by the extravagances of
the Paris Commune, wished to rid themselves at the earliest possible
time of this self-confident little bourgeois who seemed to stand alone
between them and the realisation of their hopes. Their more unscrupulous
members belittled his services and hinted that love of power alone led
him to cling to the Republic, and thus belie his political past. Then,
too, the Orleans princes, the Duc d'Aumale and the Prince de Joinville,
the surviving sons of King Louis Philippe, took their seats as deputies
for the Oise and Haute-Marne Departments, thus keeping the monarchical
ideal steadily before the eye of France. True, the Duc d'Aumale had
declared to the electorate that he was ready to bow before the will of
France whether it decided for a Constitutional Monarchy or a Liberal
Republic; and the loyalty with which he served his country was destined
to set the seal of honesty on a singularly interesting career. But there
was no guarantee that the Chamber would not take upon itself to
interpret the will of France and call from his place of exile in London
the Comte de Paris, son of the eldest descendant of Louis Philippe,
around whom the hopes of the Orleanists centred.
Had Thiers followed his earlier convictions and declared for such a
Restoration, it might quite conceivably have come about without very
much resistance. But early in the year 1871, or perhaps after the fall
of the Empire, he became convinced that France could not heal her
grievous wounds except under a government that had its roots deep in the
people's life. Now, the cause of monarchy in France was hopelessly
weakened by schisms. Legitimists and Orleanists were at feud ever since,
in 1830, Louis Philippe, so the former said, cozened the rightful heir
out of his inheritance; and the efforts now made to fuse the claims of
the two rival branches remained without result, owing to the stiff and
dogmatic attitude of the Comte de Chambord, heir to the traditions of
the elder branch. A Bonapartist Restoration was out of the question. Yet
all three sections began more and more to urge their claims. Thiers met
them with consummate skill. Occasionally they had reason to resent his
tactics as showing unworthy finesse; but oftener they quailed before the
startling boldness of his reminders that, as they constituted the
majority of the deputies of France, they might at once undertake to
restore the monarchy--if they could. "You do not, and you cannot, do so.
There is only one throne and it cannot have three occupants[68]." Or,
again, he cowed them by the sheer force of his personality: "If I were a
weak man, I would flatter you," he once exclaimed. In the last resort he
replied to their hints of his ambition and self-seeking by offering his
resignation. Here again the logic of facts was with him. For many months
he was the necessary man, and he and they knew it.
[Footnote 68: De Mazade, _Thiers_, p. 467. For a sharp criticism of
Thiers, see Samuel Denis' _Histoire Contemperaine_ (written from the
royalist standpoint).]
But, as we have seen, there came a time when the last hard bargains with
Bismarck as to the payment of the war debt neared their end; and the
rapier-play between the Liberator of the Territory and the parties of
the Assembly also drew to a close. In one matter he had given them just
cause for complaint. As far back as November 13, 1872 (that is, before
the financial problem was solved), he suddenly and without provocation
declared from the tribune of the National Assembly that it was time to
establish the Republic. The proposal was adjourned, but Thiers had
damaged his influence. He had broken the "Compact of Bordeaux" and had
shown his hand. The Assembly now knew that he was a Republican. Finally,
he made a dignified speech to the Assembly, justifying his conduct in
the past, appealing from the verdict of parties to the impartial
tribunal of History, and prophesying that the welfare of France was
bound up with the maintenance of the Conservative Republic. The Assembly
by a majority of fourteen decided on a course of action that he
disapproved, and he therefore resigned (May 24, 1873).
It seems that History will justify his appeal to her tribunal. Looking,
not at the occasional shifts that he used in order to disunite his
opponents, but rather at the underlying motives that prompted his
resolve to maintain that form of government which least divided his
countrymen, posterity has praised his conduct as evincing keen insight
into the situation, a glowing love for France before which all his
earliest predilections vanished, and a masterly skill in guiding her
from the abyss of anarchy, civil war, and bankruptcy that had but
recently yawned at her feet. Having set her upon the path of safety, he
now betook himself once more to those historical and artistic studies
which he loved better than power and office. It is given to few men not
only to write history but also to make history; yet in both spheres
Thiers achieved signal success. Some one has dubbed him "the greatest
little man known to history." Granting even that the paradox is tenable,
we may still assert that his influence on the life of France exceeded
that of many of her so-called heroes.
In fact, it would be difficult to point out in any country during the
Nineteenth Century, since the time of Bonaparte's Consulate, a work of
political, economic, and social renovation greater than that which went
on in the two years during which Thiers held the reins of power. Apart
from the unparalleled feat of paying off the Germans, the Chief of the
Executive breathed new vigour into the public service, revived national
spirit in so noteworthy a way as to bring down threats of war from
German military circles in 1872 (to be repeated more seriously in 1875),
and placed on the Statute Book two measures of paramount importance.
These were the reform of Local Government and the Army Bill.
These measures claim a brief notice. The former of them naturally falls
into two parts, dealing severally with the Commune and the Department.
These are the two all-important areas in French life. In rural districts
the Commune corresponds to the English parish; it is the oldest and
best-defined of all local areas. In urban districts it corresponds with
the municipality or township. The Revolutionists of 1790 and 1848 had
sought to apply the principle of manhood suffrage to communal
government; but their plans were swept away by the ensuing reactions,
and the dawn of the Third Republic found the Communes, both rural and
urban, under the control of the _préfets_ and their subordinates. We
must note here that the office of _préfet_, instituted by Bonaparte in
1800, was designed to link the local government of the Departments
closely to the central power: this magistrate, appointed by the
Executive at Paris, having almost unlimited control over local affairs
throughout the several Departments. Indeed, it was against the excessive
centralisation of the prefectorial system that the Parisian Communists
made their heedless and unmeasured protest. The question having thus
been thrust to the front, the Assembly brought forward (April 1871) a
measure authorising the election of Communal Councils elected by every
adult man who had resided for a year in the Commune. A majority of the
Assembly wished that the right of choosing mayors should rest with the
Communal Councils, but Thiers, browbeating the deputies by his favourite
device of threatening to resign, carried an amendment limiting this
right to towns of less than 20,000 inhabitants. In the larger towns, and
in all capitals of Departments, the mayors were to be appointed by the
central power. Thus the Napoleonic tradition in favour of keeping local
government under the oversight of officials nominated from Paris was to
some extent perpetuated even in an avowedly democratic measure.
Paris was to have a Municipal Council composed of eighty members elected
by manhood suffrage from each ward; but the mayors of the twenty
_arrondissements_, into which Paris is divided, were, and still are,
appointed by the State; and here again the control of the police and
other extensive powers are vested in the _Préfet_ of the Department of
the Seine, not in the mayors of the _arrondissements_ or the Municipal
Council. The Municipal or Communal Act of 1871, then, is a
compromise--on the whole a good working compromise--between the extreme
demands for local self-government and the Napoleonic tradition, now
become an instinct with most Frenchmen in favour of central control over
matters affecting public order[69].
[Footnote 69: On the strength of this instinct see Mr. Bodley's
excellent work, _France_, vol. i. pp. 32-42. etc. For the Act, see
Hanotaux _op. cit._ pp. 236-238.]
The matter of Army Reform was equally pressing. Here, again, Thiers had
the ground cleared before him by a great overturn, like that which
enabled Bonaparte in his day to remodel France, and the builders of
Modern Prussia--Stein, Scharnhorst, and Hardenberg--to build up their
State from its ruins. In particular, the inefficiency of the National
Guards and of the Garde Mobile made it easy to reconstruct the French
Army on the system of universal conscription in a regular army, the
efficiency of which Prussia had so startlingly displayed in the
campaigns of Königgrätz (Sadowa) and Sedan. Thiers, however, had no
belief in a short service system with its result of a huge force of
imperfectly trained troops: he clung to the old professional army; and
when that was shown to be inadequate to the needs of the new age, he
pleaded that the period of compulsory service should be, not three, but
five years. On the Assembly demurring to the expense and vital strain
for the people which this implied, he declared with passionate emphasis
that he would resign unless the five years were voted. They were voted
(June 10, 1872). At the same time, the exemptions, so numerous during
the Second Empire, were curtailed and the right of buying a substitute
was swept away. After five years' service with the active army were to
come four years with the reserve of the active army, followed by further
terms in the territorial army. The favour of one year's service instead
of five was to be accorded in certain well-defined cases, as, for
instance, to those who had distinguished themselves at the _Lycées_, or
highest grade public schools. Such was the law which was published on
July 27, 1872[70].
[Footnote 70: Hanotaux, _op. cit._ pp. 452-465.]
The sight of a nation taking on itself this heavy blood-tax (heavier
than that of Germany, where the time of service with the colours was
only for three years) aroused universal surprise, which beyond the Rhine
took the form of suspicion that France was planning a war of revenge.
That feeling grew in intensity in military circles in Berlin three years
later, as the sequel will show. Undaunted by the thinly-veiled threats
that came from Germany, France proceeded with the tasks of paying off
her conquerors and reorganising her own forces; so that Thiers on his
retirement from office could proudly point to the recovery of French
credit and prestige after an unexampled overthrow.
In feverish haste, the monarchical majority of the National Assembly
appointed Marshal MacMahon to the Presidency (May 24, 1873). They soon
found out, however, the impossibility of founding a monarchy. The Comte
de Paris, in whom the hopes of the Orleanists centred, went to the
extreme of self-sacrifice, by visiting the Comte de Chambord, the
Legitimist "King" of France, and recognising the validity of his claims
to the throne. But this amiable pliability, while angering very many of
the Orleanists, failed to move the monarch-designate by one
hair's-breadth from those principles of divine right against which the
more liberal monarchists always protested. "Henri V." soon declared that
he would neither accept any condition nor grant a single guarantee as to
the character of his future rule. Above all, he declared that he would
never give up the white flag of the _ancien régime_. In his eyes the
tricolour, which, shortly after the fall of the Bastille, Louis XVI. had
recognised as the flag of France, represented the spirit of the Great
Revolution, and for that great event he had the deepest loathing. As if
still further to ruin his cause, the Count announced his intention of
striving with all his might for the restoration of the Temporal Power of
the Pope. It is said that the able Bishop of Orleans, Mgr. Dupanloup, on
reading one of the letters by which the Comte de Chambord nailed the
white flag to the mast, was driven to exclaim, "There! That makes the
Republic! Poor France! All is lost."
Thus the attempts at fusion of the two monarchical parties had only
served to expose the weaknesses of their position and to warn France of
the probable results of a monarchical restoration. That the country had
well learnt the lesson appeared in the bye-elections, which in nearly
every case went in favour of Republican candidates. Another event that
happened early in 1873 further served to justify Thiers' contention that
the Republic was the only possible form of government. On January 9,
Napoleon III. died of the internal disease which for seven years past
had been undermining his strength. His son, the Prince Imperial, was at
present far too young to figure as a claimant to the throne.
It is also an open secret that Bismarck worked hard to prevent all
possibility of a royalist Restoration; and when the German ambassador at
Paris, Count Arnim, opposed his wishes in this matter, he procured his
recall and subjected him to a State prosecution. In fact, Bismarck
believed that under a Republic France would be powerless in war, and,
further, that she could never form that alliance with Russia which was
the bugbear of his later days. A Russian diplomatist once told the Duc
de Broglie that the kind of Republic which Bismarck wanted to see in
France was "_une République dissolvante_."
Everything therefore concurred to postpone the monarchical question, and
to prolong the informal truce which Thiers had been the first to bring
about. Accordingly, in the month of November, the Assembly extended the
Presidency of Marshal MacMahon to seven years--a period therefore known
as the Septennate.
Having now briefly shown the causes of the helplessness of the
monarchical majority in the matter that it had most nearly at heart, we
must pass over subsequent events save as they refer to that crowning
paradox--the establishment of a Republican Constitution. This was due to
the despair felt by many of the Orleanists of seeing a restoration
during the lifetime of the Comte de Chambord, and to the alarm felt by
all sections of the monarchists at the activity and partial success of
the Bonapartists, who in the latter part of 1874 captured a few seats.
Seeking above all things to keep out a Bonaparte, they did little to
hinder the formation of a Constitution which all of them looked on as
provisional. In fact, they adopted the policy of marking time until the
death of the Comte de Chambord--whose hold on life proved to be no less
tenacious than on his creed--should clear up the situation. Accordingly,
after many diplomatic delays, the Committee which in 1873 had been
charged to draw up the Constitution, presented its plan, which took form
in the organic laws of February 25, 1875. They may be thus summarised:--
The Legislature consists of two Assemblies--the Chamber of Deputies and
the Senate, the former being elected by "universal" (or, more properly,
_manhood_) suffrage. The composition of the Senate, as determined by a
later law, lies with electoral bodies in each of the Departments; these
bodies consist of the national deputies for that Department, the members
of their General Councils and District Councils, and delegates from the
Municipal Councils. Senators are elected for nine years; deputies to the
Chamber of Deputies for four years. The President of the Republic is
chosen by the Senate and the Chamber of Deputies sitting together for
that purpose. He is chosen for seven years and is eligible for
re-election; he is responsible to the Chambers only in case of high
treason; he enjoys, conjointly with the members of the two Chambers, the
right of proposing laws; he promulgates them when passed and supervises
their execution; he disposes of the armed forces of France and has the
right of pardon formerly vested in the Kings of France. Conformably to
the advice of the Senate he may dissolve the Chamber of Deputies. Each
Chamber may initiate proposals for laws, save that financial measures
rest solely with the Chamber of Deputies.
The Chambers may decide that the Constitution shall be revised. In that
case, they meet together, as a National Assembly, to carry out such
revision, which is determined by the bare majority. Each
_arrondissement_, or district of a Department, elects one deputy. From
1885 to 1889 the elections were decided by each Department on a list,
but since that time the earlier plan has been revived. We may also add
that the seat of government was fixed at Versailles; four years later
this was altered in favour of Paris, but certain of the most important
functions, such as the election of a new President, take place at
Versailles.
Taken as a whole, this Constitution was a clever compromise between the
democratic and autocratic principles of government. Having its roots in
manhood suffrage, it delegated very extensive powers to the head of the
State. These powers are especially noteworthy if we compare them with
those of the Ministry. The President commissions such and such a senator
or deputy to form a Ministry (not necessarily representing the opinions
of the majority of the Chambers); and that Ministry is responsible to
the Chambers for the execution of laws and the general policy of the
Government; but the President is not responsible to the Chambers, save
in the single and very exceptional case of high treason to the State.
Obviously, the Assembly wished to keep up the autocratic traditions of
the past as well as to leave open the door for a revision of the
Constitution at any time favourable to the monarchical cause. That this
Constitution did not pave the way for the monarchy was due to several
causes. Some we have named above.
Another and perhaps a final cause was the unwillingness or inability of
Marshal MacMahon to bring matters to the test of force. Actuated,
perhaps, by motives similar to those which kept the Duke of Wellington
from pushing matters to an extreme in England in 1831, the Marshal
refused to carry out a _coup d'état_ against the Republican majority
sent up to the Chamber of Deputies by the General Election of January
1876. Once or twice he seemed on the point of using force. Thus, in May
1877, he ventured to dissolve the Chamber of Deputies; but the
Republican party, led by the impetuous Gambetta, appealed to the country
with decisive results. That orator's defiant challenge to the Marshal,
either to submit or to resign (_se soumettre ou se démettre_) was taken
up by France, with the result that nearly all the Republican deputies
were re-elected. The President recognised the inevitable, and in
December of that year charged M. Dufaure to form a Ministry that
represented the Republican majority. In January 1879 even, some
senatorial elections went against the President, and he accordingly
resigned, January 30, 1879.
In the year 1887 the Republic seemed for a time to be in danger owing
to the intrigues of the Minister for War, General Boulanger. Making
capital out of the difficulties of France, the financial scandals
brought home to President Grévy, and his own popularity with the army,
the General seemed to be preparing a _coup d'état_. The danger increased
when the Ministry had to resign office (May 1887). A "National party"
was formed, consisting of monarchists, Bonapartists, clericals, and even
some crotchety socialists--in fact, of all who hoped to make capital out
of the fell of the Parliamentary regime. The malcontents called for a
plebiscite as to the form of government, hoping by these means to thrust
in Boulanger as dictator to pave the way for the Comte de Paris up to
the throne of France. After a prolonged crisis, the scheme ignominiously
collapsed at the first show of vigour on the Republican side. When the
new Floquet Ministry summoned Boulanger to appear before the High Court
of Justice, he fled to Belgium, and shortly afterwards committed
suicide.
The chief feature of French political life, if one reviews it in its
broad outlines, is the increase of stability. When we remember that that
veteran opportunist, Talleyrand, on taking the oath of allegiance to the
new Constitution of 1830, could say, "It is the thirteenth," and that no
régime after that period lasted longer than eighteen years, we shall be
chary of foretelling the speedy overthrow of the Third Republic at any
and every period of Ministerial crisis or political ferment. Certainly
the Republic has seen Ministries made and unmade in bewilderingly quick
succession; but these are at most superficial changes--the real work of
administration being done by the hierarchy of permanent officials first
established by the great Napoleon. Even so terrible an event as the
murder of President Sadi Carnot (June 1894) produced none of the fatal
events that British alarmists confidently predicted. M. Casimir Périer
was quietly elected and ruled firmly. The same may be said of his
successors, MM. Faure and Loubet. Sensible, businesslike men of
bourgeois origin, they typify the new France that has grown up since
the age when military adventurers could keep their heels on her neck
provided that they crowned her brow with laurels. That age would seem to
have passed for ever away. A well-known adage says: "It is the
unexpected that happens in French politics." To forecast their course is
notoriously unsafe in that land of all lands. That careful and sagacious
student of French life, Mr. Bodley, believes that the nation at heart
dislikes the prudent tameness of Parliamentary rule, and that "the day
will come when no power will prevent France from hailing a hero of her
choice[71]."
[Footnote 71: Mr. Bodley, _France_, vol. i. _ad fin_.]
Doubtless the advent of a Napoleon the Great would severely test the
qualities of prudence and patience that have gained strength under the
shelter of democratic institutions. Yet it must always be remembered
that Democracy has until now never had a fair chance in France. The
bright hopes of 1789 faded away ten years later amidst the glamour of
military glory. As for the Republic of 1848, it scarcely outlived the
troubles of infancy. The Third Republic, on the other hand, has attained
to manhood. It has met and overcome very many difficulties; at the
outset parts of two valued provinces and a vast sum of treasure were
torn away. In those early days of weakness it also crushed a serious
revolt. The intrigues of Monarchists and Bonapartists were foiled.
Hardest task of all, the natural irritation of Frenchmen at playing a
far smaller part in the world was little by little allayed.
In spite of these difficulties, the Third Republic has now lasted a
quarter of a century. That is to say, it rests on the support of a
generation which has gradually become accustomed to representative
institutions--an advantage which its two predecessors did not enjoy. The
success of institutions depends in the last resort on the character of
those who work them; and the testimony of all observers is that the
character of Frenchmen has slowly but surely changed in the direction
which Thiers pointed out in the dark days of February 1871 as offering
the only means of a sound national revival--"Yes: I believe in the
future of France: I believe in it, but on condition that we have good
sense; that we no longer use mere words as the current coin of our
speech, but that under words we shall place realities; that we have not
only good sense, but good sense endowed with courage."
These are the qualities that have built up the France of to-day. The toil
has been enormous, and it has been doubled by the worries and
disappointments incident to Parliamentarism when grafted on to a
semi-military bureaucracy; but the toil and the disappointments have
played their part in purging the French nature of the frothy
sensationalism and eager irresponsibility that naturally resulted from
the Imperialism of the two Napoleons. France seems to be outgrowing the
stage of hobble-de-hoyish ventures, military or communistic, and to have
taken on the staid, sober, and self-respecting mien of manhood--a
process helped on by the burdens of debt and conscription resulting from
her juvenile escapades. In a word, she has attained to a full sense of
responsibility. No longer are her constructive powers hopelessly
outmatched by her critical powers. In the political sphere she has found
a due balance between the brain and the hand. From analysis she has
worked her way to synthesis.
NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION
The following are the Ministries of the Republic in 1870-1900:--1870,
Favre; 1871, Dufaure (1); 1873, De Broglie (1); 1874, Cissey; 1875,
Buffet; 1876, Dufaure (2); 1876, Simon; 1877, De Broglie (2); 1877, De
Rochebouet; 1877, Dufaure (3); 1879, Waddington; 1879, Freycinet (1);
1880, Ferry (1); 1881, Gambetta; 1882, Freycinet (2); 1882, Duclerc;
1883, Fallières; 1883, Ferry (2); 1885, Brisson; 1886, Freycinet (3);
1886, Goblet; 1887, Rouvier; 1887, Tirard (1); 1888, Floquet; 1889,
Tirard (2); 1890, Freycinet (4); 1892, Loubet; 1892, Ribot (1); 1892,
Dupuy (1); 1893, Casimir Périer; 1894, Dupuy (2); 1895, Ribot (2); 1895,
Bourgeois; 1896, Méline; 1898, Brisson; 1898 Dupuy (3); 1899,
Waldeck-Rousseau.
CHAPTER VI
THE GERMAN EMPIRE
"From the very beginning of my career my sole guiding-star
has been how to unify Germany, and, that being achieved, how
to strengthen, complete, and so constitute her unification
that it may be preserved enduringly and with the goodwill of
all concerned in it."--BISMARCK: Speech in the North German
Reichstag, July 9, 1869.
On the 18th of January 1871, while the German cannon were still
thundering against Paris, a ceremony of world-wide import occurred in
the Palace of the Kings of France at Versailles. King William of Prussia
was proclaimed German Emperor. The scene lacked no element that could
appeal to the historic imagination. It took place in the Mirror Hall,
where all that was brilliant in the life of the old French monarchy used
to encircle the person of Louis XIV. And now, long after that dynasty
had passed away, and when the crown of the last of the Corsican
adventurers had but recently fallen beneath the feet of the Parisians,
the descendant of the Prussian Hohenzollerns celebrated the advent to
the German people of that unity for which their patriots had vainly
struggled for centuries.
The men who had won this long-deferred boon were of no common stamp.
King William himself, as is now shown by the publication of many of his
letters to Bismarck, had played a far larger share in the making of a
united Germany than was formerly believed. His plain good sense and
unswerving fortitude had many times marked out the path of safety and
kept his country therein. The policy of the Army Bill of 1860, which
brought salvation to Prussia in spite of her Parliament, was wholly his.
Bismarck's masterful grip of the helm of State in and after 1862 helped
to carry out that policy, just as von Roon's organising ability
perfected the resulting military machine; but its prime author was the
King, who now stood triumphant in the hall of his ancestral foes. Beside
and behind him on the dais, in front of the colours of all the German
States, were the chief princes of Germany--witnesses to the strength of
the national sentiment which the wars against the First Napoleon had
called forth, and the struggle with the nephew had now brought to
maturity. Among their figures one might note the stalwart form of the
Crown Prince, along with other members of the House of Prussia; the
Grand Duke of Baden, son-in-law of the Prussian King; the Crown Prince
of Saxony, and representatives of every reigning family of Germany.
Still more remarkable were some of the men grouped before the King and
princes. There was the thin war-worn face of Moltke; there, too, the
sturdy figure of Bismarck: the latter, wrote Dr. Russell, "looking pale,
but calm and self-possessed, elevated, as it were, by some internal
force[72]."
[Footnote 72: Quoted by C. Lowe, _Life of Bismarck_, vol. i. p. 615.]
The King announced the re-establishment of the German Empire; and those
around must have remembered that that venerable institution (which
differed so widely from the present one that the word "re-establishment"
was really misleading) had vanished but sixty-four years before at the
behests of the First Napoleon. Next, Bismarck read the Kaiser's
proclamation, stating his sense of duty to the German nation and his
hope that, within new and stronger boundaries, which would guarantee
them against attacks from France, they would enjoy peace and prosperity.
The Grand Duke of Baden then called for three cheers for the Emperor,
which were given with wild enthusiasm, and were taken up by the troops
far round the iron ring that encircled Paris.
Few events in history so much impress one, at first sight, with a sense
of strength, spontaneity, and inevitableness. And yet, as more is known
of the steps that led up to the closer union of the German States, that
feeling is disagreeably warped. Even then it was known that Bavaria and
Würtemberg strongly objected to the closer form of union desired by the
northern patriots, which would have reduced the secondary States to
complete dependence on the federal Government. Owing to the great
reluctance of the Bavarian Government and people to give up the control
of their railways, posts and telegraphs, these were left at their
disposal, the two other Southern States keeping the direction of the
postal and telegraphic services in time of peace. Bavaria and Würtemberg
likewise reserved the control of their armed forces, though in case of
war they were to be placed at the disposal of the Emperor--arrangements
which also hold good for the Saxon forces. In certain legal and fiscal
matters Bavaria also bargained for freedom of action.
What was not known then, and has leaked out in more or less authentic
ways, was the dislike, not only of most of the Bavarian people, but also
of its Government, to the whole scheme of imperial union. It is certain
that the letter which King Louis finally wrote to his brother princes to
propose that union was originally drafted by Bismarck; and rumour
asserts, on grounds not to be lightly dismissed, that the opposition of
King Louis was not withdrawn until the Bavarian Court favourite, Count
Holstein, came to Versailles and left it, not only with Bismarck's
letter, but also with a considerable sum of money for his royal master
and himself. Probably, however, the assent of the Bavarian monarch, who
not many years after became insane, was helped by the knowledge that if
he did not take the initiative, it would pass to the Grand Duke of
Baden, an ardent champion of German unity.
Whatever may be the truth as to this, there can be no doubt as to the
annoyance felt by Roman Catholic Bavaria and Protestant democratic
Würtemberg at accepting the supremacy of the Prussian bureaucracy. This
doubtless explains why Bismarck was so anxious to hurry through the
negotiations, first, for the imperial union, and thereafter for the
conclusion of peace with France.
Even in a seemingly small matter he had met with much opposition, this
time from his master. The aged monarch clung to the title King of
Prussia; but if the title of Emperor was a political necessity, he
preferred the title "Emperor of Germany"; nevertheless, the Chancellor
tactfully but firmly pointed out that this would imply a kind of feudal
over-lordship of all German lands, and that the title "German Emperor",
as that of chief of the nation, was far preferable. In the end the King
yielded, but he retained a sore feeling against his trusted servant for
some time on this matter. It seems that at one time he even thought of
abdicating in favour of his son rather than "see the Prussian title
supplanted[73]." However, he soon showed his gratitude for the immense
services rendered by Bismarck to the Fatherland. On his next birthday
(March 22) he raised the Chancellor to the rank of Prince and appointed
him Chancellor of the Empire.
[Footnote 73: E. Marcks, _Kaiser Wilhelm I._ (Leipzig, 1900), pp.
337-343.]
It will be well to give here an outline of the Imperial Constitution. In
all essentials it was an extension, with few changes, of the North
German federal compact of the year 1866. It applied to the twenty-five
States of Germany--inclusive, that is, of Hamburg, Bremen, and Lubeck,
but exclusive, for the present, of Elsass-Lothringen (Alsace-Lorraine).
In those areas imperial law takes precedence of local law (save in a few
specially reserved cases for Bavaria and the Free Cities). The same laws
of citizenship hold good in all parts of the Empire. The Empire controls
these laws, the issuing of passports, surveillance of foreigners and of
manufactures, likewise matters relating to emigration and colonisation.
Commerce, customs dues, weights and measures, coinage, banking
regulations, patents, the consular service abroad, and matters relating
to navigation also fall under its control. Railways, posts and
telegraphs (with the exceptions noted above) are subject to imperial
supervision, the importance of which during the war had been so
abundantly manifested.
The King of Prussia is _ipso facto_ German Emperor. He represents the
Empire among foreign nations; he has the right to declare war, conclude
peace, and frame alliances; but the consent of the Federal Council
(Bundesrath) is needed for the declaration of war in the name of the
Empire. The Emperor convenes, adjourns, and closes the sessions of the
Federal Council and the Imperial Diet (Reichstag). They are convened
every year. The Chancellor of the Empire presides in the Federal Council
and supervises the conduct of its business. Proposals of laws are laid
before the Reichstag in accordance with the resolutions of the Federal
Council, and are supported by members of that Council. To the Emperor
belongs the right of preparing and publishing the laws of the Empire:
they must be passed by the Bundesrath and Reichstag, and then receive
the assent of the Kaiser. They are then countersigned by the Chancellor,
who thereby becomes responsible for their due execution.
The members of the Bundesrath are appointed by the Federal Governments:
they are sixty-two in number, and now include those from the Reichstand
of Elsass-Lothringen (Alsace-Lorraine)[74]
[Footnote 74: Up to 1874 the government of Alsace-Lorraine was vested
solely in the Emperor and Chancellor. In 1874 the conquered lands
returned deputies to the Reichstag. In October 1879 they gained local
representative institutions, but under the strict control of the
Governor, Marshal von Manteuffel. This control has since been relaxed,
the present administration being quasi-constitutional.]
The Prussian Government nominates seventeen members; Bavaria six; Saxony
and Würtemburg and Alsace-Lorraine four each; and so on. The Bundesrath
is presided over by the Imperial Chancellor. At the beginning of each
yearly session it appoints eleven standing committees to deal with the
following matters: (1) Army and fortifications; (2) the Navy; (3)
tariff, excise, and taxes; (4) commerce and trade; (5) railways, posts
and telegraphs; (6) civil and criminal law; (7) financial accounts; (8)
foreign affairs; (9) Alsace-Lorraine; (10) the Imperial Constitution;
(11) Standing Orders. Each committee is presided over by a chairman. In
each committee at least four States of the Empire must be represented,
and each State is entitled only to one vote. To this rule there are two
modifications in the case of the committees on the army and on foreign
affairs. In the former of these Bavaria has a permanent seat, while the
Emperor appoints the other three members from as many States: in the
latter case, Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, and Würtemberg only are
represented. The Bundesrath takes action on the measures to be proposed
to the Reichstag and the resolutions passed by that body; it also
supervises the execution of laws, and may point out any defects in the
laws or in their execution.
The members of the Reichstag, or Diet, are elected by universal (more
properly _manhood_) suffrage and by direct secret ballot, in proportion
to the population of the several States[75]. On the average, each of the
397 members represents rather more than 100,000 of the population. The
proceedings of the Reichstag are public; it has the right (concurrently
with those wielded by the Emperor and the Bundesrath) to propose laws
for the Empire. It sits for three years, but may be dissolved by a
resolution of the Bundesrath, with the consent of the Emperor. Deputies
may not be bound by orders and instructions issued by their
constituents. They are not paid.
[Footnote 75: Bismarck said in a speech to the Reichstag, on September
16, 1878: "I accepted universal suffrage, but with repugnance, as a
Frankfurt tradition."]
As has been noted above, important matters such as railway management,
so far as it relates to the harmonious and effective working of the
existing systems, and the construction of new lines needful for the
welfare and the defence of Germany, are under the Control of the
Empire--except in the case of Bavaria. The same holds good of posts and
telegraphs except in the Southern States. Railway companies are bound to
convey troops and warlike stores at uniform reduced rates. In fact, the
Imperial Government controls the fares of all lines subject to its
supervision, and has ordered the reduction of freightage for coal, coke,
minerals, wood, stone, manure, etc., for long distances, "as demanded by
the interests of agriculture and industry." In case of dearth, the
railway companies can be compelled to forward food supplies at specially
low rates.
Further, with respect to military affairs, the central authority
exercises a very large measure of control over the federated States. All
German troops swear the oath of allegiance to the Emperor. He appoints
all commanders of fortresses; the power of building fortresses within
the Empire is also vested in him; he determines the strength of the
contingents of the federated States, and in the last case may appoint
their commanding officers; he may even proclaim martial law in any
portion of the Empire, if public security demands it. The Prussian
military code applies to all parts of the Empire (save to Bavaria,
Würtemberg, and Saxony in time of peace); and the military organisation
is everywhere of the same general description, especially as regards
length of service, character of the drill, and organisation in corps and
regiments. Every German, unless physically unfit, is subject to military
duty and cannot shift the burden on a substitute. He must serve for
seven years in the standing army: that is, three years in the field army
and four in the reserve; thereafter he takes his place in the
Landwehr[76].
[Footnote 76: The three years are shortened to one year for those who
have taken a high place in the Gymnasia (highest of the public schools);
they feed and equip themselves and are termed "volunteers." Conscription
is the rule on the coasts for service in the German Navy. For the text
of the Imperial Constitution, see Lowe, _Life of Bismarck_, vol.
ii. App. F.]
The secondary States are protected in one important respect. The last
proviso of the Imperial Constitution stipulates that any proposal to
modify it shall fail if fourteen, or more, votes are cast against it in
the Federal Council. This implies that Bavaria, Würtemberg, and Saxony,
if they vote together, can prevent any change detrimental to their
interests. On the whole, the new system is less centralised than that of
the North German Confederation had been; and many of the Prussian
Liberals, with whom the Crown Prince of Prussia very decidedly ranged
himself on this question, complained that the government was more
federal than ever, and that far too much had been granted to the
particularist prejudices of the Southern States[77]. To all these
objections Bismarck could unanswerably reply that it was far better to
gain this great end without bitterness, even if the resulting compact
were in some respects faulty, than to force on the Southern States a
more logically perfect system that would perpetuate the sore feeling
of the past.
[Footnote 77: J.W. Headlam, _Bismarck_, p. 367.]
Such in its main outlines is the new Constitution of Germany. On the
whole, it has worked well. That it has fulfilled all the expectations
aroused in that year of triumph and jubilation will surprise no one who
knows that absolute and lasting success is attained only in Utopias,
never in practical politics. In truth, the suddenness with which German
unity was finally achieved was in itself a danger.
The English reader will perhaps find it hard to realise this until he
remembers that the whole course of recorded history shows us the Germans
politically disunited, or for the most part engaged in fratricidal
strifes. When they first came within the ken of the historians of
Ancient Rome, they were a set of warring tribes who banded together only
under the pressure of overwhelming danger; and such was to be their fate
for well-nigh two thousand years. Their union under the vigorous rule of
the great Frankish chief whom the French call Charlemagne, was at best
nominal and partial. The Holy Roman Empire, which he founded in the year
800 by a mystically vague compact with the Pope, was never a close bond
of union, even in his stern and able hands. Under his weak successors
that imposing league rarely promoted peace among its peoples, while the
splendour of its chief elective dignity not seldom conduced to war.
Next, feudalism came in as a strong political solvent, and thus for
centuries Germany crumbled and mouldered away, until disunion seemed to
be the fate of her richest lands, and particularism became a rooted
instinct of her princes, burghers, and peasants. Then again South was
arrayed against North during and long after the time of the Reformation;
when the strife of creeds was stayed, the rivalry of the Houses of
Hapsburg and Hohenzollern added another cause of hatred.
As a matter of fact, it was reserved for the two Napoleons, uncle and
nephew, to force those divided peoples to comradeship in arms. The close
of the campaign of 1813 and that of 1814 saw North and South, Prussians
and Austrians, for the first time fighting heartily shoulder to shoulder
in a great war--for that of 1792-94 had only served to show their rooted
suspicion and inner hostility. Owing to reasons that cannot be stated
here, the peace of 1814-15 led up to no effective union: it even
perpetuated the old dualism of interests. But once more the hostility of
France under a Napoleon strengthened the impulse to German
consolidation, and on this occasion there was at hand a man who had
carefully prepared the way for an abiding form of political union; his
diplomatic campaign of the last seven years had secured Russia's
friendship and consequently Austria's reluctant neutrality; as for the
dislike of the Southern States to unite with the North, that feeling
waned for a few weeks amidst the enthusiasm caused by the German
triumphs. The opportunity was unexampled: it had not occurred even in
1814; it might never occur again; and it was certain to pass away when
the war fever passed by. How wise, then, to strike while the iron was
hot! The smaller details of the welding process were infinitely less
important than the welding itself.
One last consideration remains. If the opportunity was unexampled, so
also were the statesmanlike qualities of the man who seized it. The more
that we know concerning the narrowly Prussian feelings of King William,
the centralising pedantry of the Crown Prince of Prussia, and the petty
particularism of the Governments of Bavaria and Würtemberg, the more
does the figure of Bismarck stand out as that of the one great statesman
of his country and era. However censurable much of his conduct may be,
his action in working up to and finally consummating German unity at the
right psychological moment stands out as one of the greatest feats of
statesmanship which history records.
But obviously a wedded life which had been preceded by no wooing, over
whose nuptials Mars shed more influence than Venus, could not be
expected to run a wholly smooth course. In fact, this latest instance in
ethnical lore of marriage by capture has on the whole led to a more
harmonious result than was to be expected. Possibly, if we could lift
the veil of secrecy which is wisely kept drawn over the weightiest
proceedings of the Bundesrath and its committees, the scene would appear
somewhat different. As it is, we can refer here only to some questions
of outstanding importance the details of which are fairly well known.
The first of these which subjected the new Empire to any serious strain
was a sharp religious struggle against the new claims of the Roman
Catholic hierarchy. Without detailing the many causes of friction that
sprang up between the new Empire and the Roman Catholic Church, we may
state that most of them had their roots in the activity shown by that
Church among the Poles of Prussian Poland (Posen), and also in the dogma
of Papal infallibility. Decreed by the Oecumenical Council at Rome on
the very eve of the outbreak of the Franco-German War, it seemed to be
part and parcel of that forward Jesuit policy which was working for the
overthrow of the chief Protestant States. Many persons--among them
Bismarck[78]--claimed that the Empress Eugénie's hatred of Prussia and
the warlike influence which she is said to have exerted on Napoleon III.
on that critical day, July 14, 1870, were prompted by Jesuitical
intrigues. However that may be (and it is a matter on which no
fair-minded man will dogmatise until her confidential papers see the
light) there is little doubt that the Pope at Rome and the Roman
hierarchy among the Catholics of Central and Eastern Europe did their
best to prevent German unity and to introduce elements of discord. The
dogma of the infallibility of the Pope in matters of faith and doctrine
was itself a cause of strife. Many of the more learned and moderate of
the German Catholics had protested against the new dogma, and some of
these "Old Catholics", as they were called, tried to avoid teaching it
in the Universities and schools. Their bishops, however, insisted that
it should be taught, placed some recalcitrants under the lesser ban, and
deprived them of their posts.
[Footnote 78: Busch, _Our Chancellor_, vol i. p. 139, where he quotes a
conversation of Bismarck of Nov. 1883. On the Roman Catholic policy in
Posen, see _ibid_. pp. 143-145.]
When these high-handed proceedings were extended even to the schools,
the Prussian Government intervened, and early in 1872 passed a law
ordaining that all school inspectors should be appointed by the King's
Government at Berlin. This greatly irritated the Roman Catholic
hierarchy and led up to aggressive acts on both sides, the German
Reichstag taking up the matter and decreeing the exclusion of the
Jesuits from all priestly and scholastic duties of whatever kind within
the Empire (July 1872). The strife waxed ever fiercer. When the Roman
Catholic bishops of Germany persisted in depriving "Old Catholics" of
professorial and other charges, the central Government retorted by the
famous "May Laws" of 1873. The first of these forbade the Roman Catholic
Church to intervene in civil affairs in any way, or to coerce officials
and citizens of the Empire. The second required of all ministers of
religion that they should have passed the final examination at a High
School, and also should have studied theology for three years at a
German University: it further subjected all seminaries to State
inspection. The third accorded fuller legal protection to dissidents
from the various creeds.
This anti-clerical policy is known as the "Kultur-Kampf", a term that
denotes a struggle for civilisation against the forces of reaction. For
some years the strife was of the sharpest kind. The Roman Catholic
bishops continued to ban the "Old Catholics", while the State refused to
recognise any act of marriage or christening performed by clerics who
disobeyed the new laws. The logical sequel to this was obvious, namely,
that the State should insist on the religious ceremony of marriage
being supplemented by a civil contract[79]. Acts to render this
compulsory were first passed by the Prussian Landtag late in 1873 and by
the German Reichstag in 1875.
[Footnote 79: Lowe, _Life of Bismarck_, vol. ii. p. 336, note.]
It would be alike needless and tedious to detail the further stages of
this bitter controversy, especially as several of the later "May Laws"
have been repealed. We may, however, note its significance in the
development of parties. Many of the Prussian nobles and squires (Junkers
the latter were called) joined issue with Bismarck on the Civil Marriage
Act, and this schism weakened Bismarck's long alliance with the
Conservative party. He enjoyed, however, the enthusiastic support of the
powerful National Liberal party, as well as the Imperialist and
Progressive groups. Differing on many points of detail, these parties
aimed at strengthening the fabric of the central power, and it was with
their aid in the Reichstag that the new institutions of Germany were
planted and took root. The General Election of 1874 sent up as many as
155 National Liberals, and they, with the other groups just named, gave
the Government a force of 240 votes--a good working majority as long as
Bismarck's aims were of a moderately Liberal character. This, however,
was not always the case even in 1874-79, when he needed their alliance.
His demand for a permanently large military establishment alienated his
allies in 1874, and they found it hard to satisfy the requirements of
his exacting and rigorous nature.
The harshness of the "May Laws" also caused endless friction. Out of
some 10,000 Roman Catholic priests in Prussia (to which kingdom alone
the severest of these laws applied) only about thirty bowed the knee to
the State. In 800 parishes the strife went so far that all religious
services came to an end. In the year 1875, fines amounting to 28,000
marks (£2800) were imposed, and 103 clerics or their supporters were
expelled from the Empire[80]. Clearly this state of things could not
continue without grave danger to the Empire; for the Church held on her
way with her usual doggedness, strengthened by the "protesting" deputies
from the Reichsland on the south-west, from Hanover (where the Guelph
feeling was still uppermost), as well as those from Polish Posen and
Danish Schleswig. Bismarck and the anti-clerical majority of the
Reichstag scorned any thoughts of surrender. Yet, slowly but surely,
events at the Vatican and in Germany alike made for compromise. In
February 1878, Pope Pius IX. passed away. That unfortunate pontiff had
never ceased to work against the interests of Prussia and Germany, while
his encyclicals since 1873 mingled threats of defiance of the May Laws
with insults against Prince Bismarck. His successor, Leo XIII.
(1878-1903), showed rather more disposition to come to a compromise, and
that, too, at a time when Bismarck's new commercial policy made the
support of the Clerical Centre in the Reichstag peculiarly acceptable.
[Footnote 80: Busch, _Our Chancellor_, vol. i. p. 122, quotes speeches
of his hero to prove that Bismarck himself disliked this Civil Marriage
Law. "From the political point of view I have convinced myself that the
State . . . is constrained by the dictates of self-defence to enact this
law in order to avert from a portion of His Majesty's subjects the evils
with which they are menaced by the Bishops' rebellion against the laws
and the State" (Speech of Jan. 17, 1873). In 1849 he had opposed civil
marriage.]
Bismarck's resolve to give up the system of Free Trade, or rather of
light customs dues, adopted by Prussia and the German Zollverein in
1865, is so momentous a fact in the economic history of the modern
world, that we must here give a few facts which will enable the reader
to understand the conditions attending German commerce up to the years
1878-79, when the great change came. The old order of things in Prussia,
as in all German States, was strongly protective--in fact, to such an
extent as often to prevent the passing of the necessaries of life from
one little State to its Lilliputian neighbours. The rise of the national
idea in Germany during the wars against the great Napoleon led to a more
enlightened system, especially for Prussia. The Prussian law of 1818
asserted the principle of imposing customs dues for revenue purposes,
but taxed foreign products to a moderate extent. On this basis she
induced neighbouring small German States to join her in a Customs Union
(Zollverein), which gradually extended, until by 1836 it included all
the States of the present Empire except the two Mecklenburgs, the Elbe
Duchies, and the three Free Cities of Hamburg, Bremen, and Lübeck. That
is to say, the attractive force of the highly developed Prussian State
practically unified Germany for purposes of trade and commerce, and
that, too, thirty-eight years before political union was achieved.
This, be it observed, was on condition of internal Free Trade, but of
moderate duties being levied on foreign products. Up to 1840 these
import duties were on the whole reduced; after that date a protectionist
reaction set in; it was checked, however, by the strong wave of Free
Trade feeling which swept over Europe after the victory of that
principle in England in 1846-49. Of the new champions of Free Trade on
the Continent, the foremost in point of time was Cavour, for that
kingdom of Sardinia on which he built the foundations of a regenerated
and united Italy. Far more important, however, was the victory which
Cobden won in 1859-60 by inducing Napoleon III. to depart from the
almost prohibitive system then in vogue in France. The Anglo-French
Commercial Treaty of January 1860 seemed to betoken the speedy
conversion of the world to the enlightened policy of unfettered exchange
of all its products. In 1862 and 1865 the German Zollverein followed
suit, relaxing duties on imported articles and manufactured goods--a
process which was continued in its commercial treaties and tariff
changes of the years 1868 and 1869.
At this time Bismarck's opinions on fiscal matters were somewhat vague.
He afterwards declared that he held Free Trade to be altogether false.
But in this as in other matters he certainly let his convictions be
shaped by expediency. Just before the conclusion of peace with France he
so far approximated to Free Trade as to insist that the Franco-German
Commercial Treaty of 1862, which the war had of course abrogated--- war
puts an end to all treaties between the States directly engaged--should
now be again regarded as in force and as holding good up to the year
1887[81]. He even stated that he "would rather begin again the war of
cannon-balls than expose himself to a war of tariffs." France and
Germany, therefore, agreed to place one another permanently on "the most
favoured nation" footing. Yet this same man, who so much desired to keep
down the Franco-German tariff, was destined eight years later to
initiate a protectionist policy which set back the cause of Free Trade
for at least a generation.
[Footnote 81: For that treaty, and Austria's desire in 1862 to enter the
German Zollverein, see _The Diplomatic Reminiscences of Lord A. Loftus,
_vol. ii. pp. 250-251.]
What brought about this momentous change? To answer this fully would
take up a long chapter. We can only glance at the chief forces then at
work. Firstly, Germany, after the year 1873, passed through a severe and
prolonged economic crisis. It was largely due to the fever of
speculation induced by the incoming of the French milliards into a land
where gold had been none too plentiful. Despite the efforts of the
German Government to hold back a large part of the war indemnity for
purposes of military defence and substantial enterprises, the people
imagined themselves to be suddenly rich. Prices rapidly rose,
extravagant habits spread in all directions, and in the years 1872-73
company-promoting attained to the rank of a fine art, with the result
that sober, hard-working Germany seemed to be almost another England at
the time of the South Sea Bubble. Alluding to this time, Busch said to
Bismarck early in 1887: "In the long-run the [French] milliards were no
blessing, at least not for our manufacturers, as they led to
over-production. It was merely the bankers who benefited, and of these
only the big ones[82]."
[Footnote 82: _Bismarck: Some Secret Pages of his History, _by M. Busch,
vol. iii. p. 161 (English edition).]
The result happened that always happens when a nation mistakes money,
the means of commercial exchange, for the ultimate source of wealth.
After a time of inflation came the inevitable collapse. The unsound
companies went by the board; even sound ventures were in some cases
overturned. How grievously public credit suffered may be seen by the
later official admission, that liquidations and bankruptcies of public
companies in the following ten years inflicted on shareholders a total
loss of more than 345,000,000 marks (£17,250,000)[83].
[Footnote 83: German State Paper of June 28, 1884, quoted by Dawson,
_Bismarck and State Socialism_, App. B.]
Now, it was in the years 1876-77, while the nation lay deep in the
trough of economic depression, that the demand for "protection for home
industries" grew loud and persistent. Whether it would not have been
raised even if German finance and industry had held on its way in a
straight course and on an even keel, cannot of course be determined, for
the protectionist movement had been growing since the year 1872, owing
to the propaganda of the "Verein für Sozialpolitik" (Union for Social
Politics) founded in that year. But it is safe to say that the collapse
of speculation due to inflowing of the French milliards greatly
strengthened the forces of economic reaction.
Bismarck himself put it in this way: that the introduction of Free Trade
in 1865 soon produced a state of atrophy in Germany; this was checked
for a time by the French war indemnity; but Germany needed a permanent
cure, namely, Protection. It is true that his ideal of national life had
always been strict and narrow--in fact, that of the average German
official; but we may doubt whether he had in view solely the shelter of
the presumedly tender flora of German industry from the supposed deadly
blasts of British, Austrian, and Russian competition. He certainly hoped
to strengthen the fabric of his Empire by extending the customs system
and making its revenue depend more largely on that source and less on
the contributions of the federated States. But there was probably a
still wider consideration. He doubtless wished to bring prominently
before the public gaze another great subject that would distract it
from the religious feuds described above and bring about a
rearrangement of political parties. The British people has good reason
to know that the discussion of fiscal questions that vitally touch every
trade and every consumer, does act like the turning of a kaleidoscope
upon party groupings; and we may fairly well assume that so far-seeing a
statesman as Bismarck must have forecast the course of events.
Reasons of statecraft also warned him to build up the Empire four-square
while yet there was time. The rapid recovery of France, whose milliards
had proved somewhat of a "Greek gift" to Germany, had led to threats on
the part of the war party at Berlin, which brought from Queen Victoria,
as also from the Czar Alexander, private but pressing intimations to
Kaiser Wilhelm that no war of extermination must take place. This affair
and its results in Germany's foreign policy will occupy us in Chapter
XII. Here we may note that Bismarck saw in it a reason for suspecting
Russia, hating England, and jealously watching every movement in France.
Germany's future, it seemed, would have to be safeguarded by all the
peaceable means available. How natural, then, to tone down her internal
religious strifes by bringing forward another topic of still more
absorbing interest, and to aim at building up a self-contained
commercial life in the midst of uncertain, or possibly hostile,
neighbours. In truth, if we view the question in its broad issues in the
life of nations, we must grant that Free Trade could scarcely be
expected to thrive amidst the jealousies and fears entailed by the war
of 1870. That principle presupposes trust and good-will between nations;
whereas the wars of 1859, 1864, and 1870 left behind bitter memories and
rankling ills. Viewed in this light, Germany's abandonment of Free Trade
in 1878 was but the natural result of that forceful policy by which she
had cut the Gordian knot of her national problem.
The economic change was decided on in the year 1879, when the federated
States returned to "the time-honoured ways of 1823-65." Bismarck
appealed to the Reichstag to preserve at least the German market to
German industry. The chances of having a large export trade were on
every ground precarious; but Germany could, at the worst, support
herself. All interests were mollified by having moderate duties imposed
to check imports. Small customs dues were placed on corn and other food
supplies so as to please the agrarian party; imports of manufactured
goods were taxed for the benefit of German industries, and even raw
materials underwent small imposts. The Reichstag approved the change and
on July 7 passed the Government's proposals by 217 to 117: the majority
comprised the Conservatives, Clericals, the Alsace-Lorrainers, and a few
National Liberals; while the bulk of the last-named, hitherto Bismarck's
supporters on most topics, along with Radicals and Social Democrats,
opposed it. The new tariff came into force on January 1, 1880.
On the whole, much may be said in favour of the immediate results of the
new policy. By the year 1885 the number of men employed in iron and
steel works had increased by 35 per cent over the numbers of 1879; wages
also had increased, and the returns of shipping and of the export trade
showed a considerable rise. Of course, it is impossible to say whether
this would not have happened in any case owing to the natural tendency
to recovery from the deep depression of the years 1875-79. The duties on
corn did not raise its price, which appears strange until we know that
the foreign imports of corn were less than 8 per cent of the whole
amount consumed. In 1885, therefore, Bismarck gave way to the demands of
the agrarians that the corn duties should be raised still further, in
order to make agriculture lucrative and to prevent the streaming of
rural population to the towns. Again the docile Reichstag followed his
lead. But, two years later, it seemed that the new corn duties had
failed to check the fall of prices and keep landlords and farmers from
ruin; once more, then, the duties were raised, being even doubled on
certain food products. This time they undoubtedly had one important
result, that of making the urban population, especially that of the
great industrial centres, more and more hostile to the agrarians and to
the Government which seemed to be legislating in their interests. From
this time forward the Social Democrats began to be a power in the land.
And yet, if we except the very important item of rent, which in Berlin
presses with cruel weight on the labouring classes, the general trend of
the prices of the necessaries of life in Germany has been downwards, in
spite of all the protectionist duties. The evidence compiled in the
British official Blue-book on "British and Foreign Trade and Industry"
(1903. Cd. 1761, p. 226) yields the following results. By comparing the
necessary expenditure on food of a workman's family of the same size and
living under the same conditions, it appears that if we take that
expenditure for the period 1897-1901 to represent the number 100 we have
these results:--
+-----------+-----------+-----------------+
| Period. | Germany. | United Kingdom. |
+-----------+-----------+-----------------+
| 1877-1881 | 112 | 140 |
| 1882-1886 | 101 | 125 |
| 1887-1891 | 103 | 106 |
| 1892-1896 | 99 | 98 |
| 1897-1901 | 100 | 100 |
+-----------+-----------+-----------------+
Thus the fall in the cost of living of a British working man's family
has been 40 points, while that of the German working man shows a decline
of only 12 points. It is, on the whole, surprising that there has not
been more difference between the two countries[84].
[Footnote 84: In a recent work, _England and the English_ (London,
1904), Dr. Carl Peters says: "Considering that wages in England average
20 per cent higher in England than in Germany, that the week has only 54
working hours, and that all articles of food are cheaper, the
fundamental conditions of prosperous home-life are all round more
favourable in England than in Germany. And yet he [the British
working-man] does not derive greater comfort from them, for the simple
reason that a German labourer's wife is more economical and more
industrious than the English wife."] Before dealing with the new
social problems that resulted, at least in part, from the new duties on
food, we may point out that Bismarck and his successors at the German
Chancellory have used the new tariff as a means of extorting better
terms from the surrounding countries. The Iron Chancellor has always
acted on the diplomatic principle _do ut des_--"I give that you may
give"--with its still more cynical corollary--"Those who have nothing
to give will get nothing." The new German tariff on agricultural
products was stiffly applied against Austria for many years, to compel
her to grant more favourable terms to German manufactured goods. For
eleven years Austria-Hungary maintained their protective barriers; but
in 1891 German persistence was rewarded in the form of a treaty by which
the Dual Monarchy let in German goods on easier terms provided that the
corn duties of the northern Power were relaxed. The fiscal strife with
Russia was keener and longer, but had the same result (1894). Of a
friendlier kind were the negotiations with Italy, Belgium, and
Switzerland, which led to treaties with those States in 1891. It is
needless to say that in each of these cases the lowering of the corn
duties was sharply resisted by the German agrarians. We may here add
that the Anglo-German commercial treaty which expired in 1903 has been
extended for two years; and that Germany's other commercial treaties
were at the same time continued.
It is hazardous at present to venture on any definite judgment as to the
measure of success attained by the German protectionist policy.
Protectionists always point to the prosperity of Germany as the crowning
proof of its efficacy. In one respect they are, perhaps, fully justified
in so doing. The persistent pressure which Germany brought to bear on
the even more protectionist systems of Russia and Austria undoubtedly
induced those Powers to grant easier terms to German goods than they
would have done had Germany lost her bargaining power by persisting in
her former Free Trade tendencies. Her success in this matter is the best
instance in recent economic history of the desirability of holding back
something in reserve so as to be able to bargain effectively with a
Power that keeps up hostile tariffs. In this jealously competitive age
the State that has nothing more to offer is as badly off in economic
negotiations as one that, in affairs of general policy, has no armaments
wherewith to face a well-equipped foe. This consideration is of course
scouted as heretical by orthodox economists; but it counts for much in
the workaday world, where tariff wars and commercial treaty bargainings
unfortunately still distract the energies of mankind.
On the other hand, it would be risky to point to the internal prosperity
of Germany and the vast growth of her exports as proofs of the soundness
of protectionist theories. The marvellous growth of that prosperity is
very largely due to the natural richness of a great part of the country,
to the intelligence, energy, and foresight of her people and their
rulers, and to the comparatively backward state of German industry and
commerce up to the year 1870. Far on into the Nineteenth Century,
Germany was suffering from the havoc wrought by the Napoleonic wars and
still earlier struggles. Even after the year 1850, the political
uncertainties of the time prevented her enjoying the prosperity that
then visited England and France. Therefore, only since 1870 (or rather
since 1877-78, when the results of the mad speculation of 1873 began to
wear away) has she entered on the normal development of a modern
industrial State; and he would be an eager partisan who would put down
her prosperity mainly to the credit of the protectionist régime. In
truth, no one can correctly gauge the value of the complex
causes--economic, political, educational, scientific and
engineering--that make for the prosperity of a vast industrial
community. So closely are they intertwined in the nature of things, that
dogmatic arguments laying stress on one of them alone must speedily be
seen to be the merest juggling with facts and figures.
As regards the wider influences exerted by Germany's new protective
policy, we can here allude only to one; and that will be treated more
fully in the chapter dealing with the Partition of Africa. That policy
gave a great stimulus to the colonial movement in Germany, and, through
her, in all European States. As happened in the time of the old
Mercantile System, Powers which limited their trade with their
neighbours, felt an imperious need for absorbing new lands in the
tropics to serve as close preserves for the mother-country. Other
circumstances helped to impel Germany on the path of colonial expansion;
but probably the most important, though the least obvious, was the
recrudescence of that "Mercantilism" which Adam Smith had exploded.
Thus, the triumph of the national principle in and after 1870 was
consolidated by means which tended to segregate the human race in
masses, regarding each other more or less as enemies or rivals, alike in
the spheres of politics, commerce, and colonial expansion.
We may conclude our brief survey of German constructive policy by
glancing at the chief of the experiments which may be classed as akin to
State Socialism.
In 1882 the German Government introduced the Sickness Insurance Bill and
the Accident Insurance Bill, but they were not passed till 1884, and did
not take effect till 1885. For the relief of sickness the Government
relied on existing institutions organised for that object. This was very
wise, seeing that the great difficulty is how to find out whether a man
really is ill or is merely shamming illness. Obviously a local club can
find that out far better than a great imperial agency can. The local
club has every reason for looking sharply after doubtful cases as a
State Insurance Fund cannot do. As regards sickness, then, the Imperial
Government merely compelled all the labouring classes, with few
exceptions, to belong to some sick fund. They were obliged to pay in a
sum of not less than about fourpence in the pound of their weekly wages;
and this payment of the workman has to be supplemented by half as much,
paid by his employer--or rather, the employer pays the whole of the
premium and deducts the share payable by the workman from his wages.
Closely linked with this is the Accident Insurance Law. Here the brunt
of the payment falls wholly on the employer. He alone pays the premiums
for all his work-people; the amount varies according to (1) the man's
wage, (2) the risk incidental to the employment. The latter is
determined by the actuaries of the Government. If a man is injured (even
if it be by his own carelessness) he receives payments during the first
thirteen weeks from the ordinary Sick Fund. If his accident keeps him a
prisoner any longer, he is paid from the Accident Fund of the employers
of that particular trade, or from the Imperial Accident Fund. Here of
course the chance of shamming increases, particularly if the man knows
that he is being supported out of a general fund made up entirely by the
employers' payments. The burden on the employers is certainly very
heavy, seeing that for all kinds of accidents relief may be claimed; the
only exception is in cases where the injury can be shown to be wilfully
committed[85]. A British Blue-book issued on March 31, 1905, shows that
the enormous sum of £5,372,150 was paid in Germany in the year 1902 as
compensation to workmen for injuries sustained while at work.
[Footnote 85: For the account given above, as also that of the Old Age
Insurance Law, I am indebted to Mr. Dawson's excellent little work,
_Bismarck and State Socialism_ (Swan Sonnenschein & Co., 1890). See also
the Appendix to _The German Empire of To-day_, by "Veritas" (1902).]
The burden of the employers does not end here. They have to bear their
share of Old Age Insurance. This law was passed in 1889, at the close of
the first year of the present Kaiser's reign. His father, the Emperor
Frederick, during his brief reign had not favoured the principles of
State Socialism; but the young Emperor William in November 1888
announced that he would further the work begun by _his grandfather_, and
though the difficulties of insurance for old age were very great, yet,
with God's help, they would prove not to be insuperable.
Certainly the effort was by far the greatest that had yet been made by
any State. The young Emperor and his Chancellor sought to build up a
fund whereby 12,000,000 of work-people might be guarded against the ills
of a penniless old age. Their law provided for all workmen (even men in
domestic service) whose yearly income did not exceed 2000 marks (£100).
Like the preceding laws, it was compulsory. Every youth who is
physically and mentally sound, and who earns more than a minimum wage,
must begin to put by a fixed proportion of that wage as soon as he
completes his sixteenth year. His employer is also compelled to
contribute the same amount for him. Mr. Dawson, in the work already
referred to, gives some figures showing what the joint payment of
employer and employed amount to on this score. If the workman earns £15
a year (_i.e._ about 6s. a week), the sum of 3s. 3-1/2d. is put by for
him yearly into the State Fund. If he earns £36 a year, the joint annual
payment will be 5s. 7-1/2d.; if he earns £78, it will be 7s. a year, and
so on. These payments are reckoned up in various classes, according to
the amounts; and according to the total amount is the final annuity
payable to the worker in the evening of his days. That evening is very
slow in coming for the German worker. For old age merely, he cannot
begin to draw his full pension until he has attained the ripe age of
seventy-one years. Then he will draw the full amount. He may anticipate
that if he be incapacitated; but in that case the pension will be on a
lower scale, proportioned to the amounts paid in and the length of time
of the payments.
The details of the measure are so complex as to cause a good deal of
friction and discontent. The calculation of the various payments alone
employs an army of clerks: the need of safeguarding against personation
and other kinds of fraud makes a great number of precautions necessary;
and thus the whole system becomes tied up with red tape in a way that
even the more patient workman of the Continent cannot endure.
In a large measure, then, the German Government has failed in its
efforts to cure the industrial classes of their socialistic ideas. But
its determination to attach them to the new German Empire, and to make
that Empire the leading industrial State of the Continent, has had a
complete triumph. So far as education, technical training, research, and
enlightened laws can make a nation great, Germany is surely on the high
road to national and industrial supremacy.
It is a strange contrast that meets our eyes if we look back to the
years before the advent of King William and Bismarck to power. In the
dark days of the previous reign Germany was weak, divided, and helpless.
In regard to political life and industry she was still almost in
swaddling-clothes; and her struggles to escape from the irksome
restraints of the old Confederation seemed likely to be as futile as
they had been since the year 1815. But the advent of the King and his
sturdy helper to power speedily changed the situation. The political
problems were grappled with one by one, and were trenchantly solved.
Union was won by Bismarck's diplomacy and Prussia's sword; and when the
longed-for goal was reached in seven momentous years, the same qualities
were brought to bear on the difficult task of consolidating that union.
Those qualities were the courage and honesty of purpose that the House
of Hohenzollern has always displayed since the days of the Great
Elector; added to these were rarer gifts, namely, the width of view, the
eagle foresight, the strength of will, the skill in the choice of means,
that made up the imposing personality of Bismarck. It was with an eye to
him, and to the astonishing triumphs wrought by his diplomacy over
France, that a diplomatist thus summed up the results of the year 1870:
"Europe has lost a mistress, but she has got a master."
After the lapse of a generation that has been weighted with the cuirass
of Militarism, we are able to appreciate the force of that remark.
Equally true is it that the formation of the German Empire has not added
to the culture and the inner happiness of the German people. The days
of quiet culture and happiness are gone; and in their place has come a
straining after ambitious aims which is a heavy drag even on the
vitality of the Teutonic race. Still, whether for good or for evil, the
unification of Germany must stand out as the greatest event in the
history of the Nineteenth Century.
NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION
The statement on page 135 that service in the German army is compulsory
for seven years, three in the field army and four in the reserve,
applies to the cavalry and artillery only. In the infantry the time of
service is two years with the colours and five years in the reserve.
CHAPTER VII
THE EASTERN QUESTION
"Perhaps one fact which lies at the root of all the actions
of the Turks, small and great, is that they are by nature
nomads. . . . Hence it is that when the Turk retires from a
country he leaves no more sign of himself than does a Tartar
camp on the upland pastures where it has passed the
summer."--_Turkey in Europe_, by "Odysseus."
The remark was once made that the Eastern Question was destined to
perplex mankind up to the Day of Judgment. Certainly that problem is
extraordinarily complex in its details. For a century and a half it has
distracted the statesmen and philanthropists of Europe; for it concerns
not only the ownership of lands of great intrinsic and strategic
importance, but also the welfare of many peoples. It is a question,
therefore, which no intelligent man ought to overlook.
For the benefit of the tiresome person who insists on having a
definition of every term, the Eastern Question may be briefly described
as the problem of finding a _modus vivendi_ between the Turks and their
Christian subjects and the neighbouring States. This may serve as a
general working statement. No one who is acquainted with the rules of
Logic will accept it as a definition. Definitions can properly apply
only to terms and facts that have a clear outline; and they can
therefore very rarely apply to the facts of history, which are of
necessity as many-sided as human life itself. The statement given above
is incomplete, inasmuch as it neither hints at the great difficulty of
reconciling the civic ideas of Christian and Turkish peoples, nor
describes the political problems arising out of the decay of the Ottoman
Power and the ambitions of its neighbours.
It will be well briefly to see what are the difficulties that arise out
of the presence of Christians under the rule of a great Moslem State.
They are chiefly these. First, the Koran, though far from enjoining
persecution of Christians, yet distinctly asserts the superiority of the
true believer and the inferiority of "the people of the book"
(Christians). The latter therefore are excluded from participation in
public affairs, and in practice are refused a hearing in the law courts.
Consequently they tend to sink to the position of hewers of wood and
drawers of water to the Moslems, these on their side inevitably
developing the defects of an exclusive dominant caste. This is so
especially with the Turks. They are one of the least gifted of the
Mongolian family of nations; brave in war and patient under suffering
and reverses, they nevertheless are hopelessly narrow-minded and
bigoted; and the Christians in their midst have fared perhaps worse than
anywhere else among the Mohammedan peoples.
M. de Lavelaye, who studied the condition of things in Turkey not long
after the war of 1877-78, thus summed up the causes of the social and
political decline of the Turks:--
The true Mussulman loves neither progress, novelty, nor education; the
Koran is enough for him. He is satisfied with his lot, therefore cares
little for its improvement, somewhat like a Catholic monk; but at the
same time he hates and despises the Christian _raya_, who is the
labourer. He pitilessly despoils, fleeces, and ill-treats him to the
extent of completely ruining and destroying those families, which are
the only ones who cultivate the ground; it was a state of war continued
in time of peace, and transformed into a regime of permanent spoliation
and murder. The wife, even when she is the only one, is always an
inferior being, a kind of slave, destitute of any intellectual culture;
and as it is she who trains the children--boys and girls--the bad
results are plainly seen.
Matters were not always and in all parts of Turkey so bad as this; but
they frequently became so under cruel or corrupt governors, or in times
when Moslem fanaticism ran riot. In truth, the underlying cause of
Turkey's troubles is the ignorance and fanaticism of her people. These
evils result largely from the utter absorption of all devout Moslems in
their creed and ritual. Texts from the Koran guide their conduct; and
all else is decided by fatalism, which is very often a mere excuse for
doing nothing[86]. Consequently all movements for reform are mere
ripples on the surface of Turkish life; they never touch its dull
depths; and the Sultan and officials, knowing this, cling to the old
ways with full confidence. The protests of Christian nations on behalf
of their co-religionists are therefore met with a polite compliance
which means nothing. Time after time the Sublime Porte has most solemnly
promised to grant religious liberty to its Christian subjects; but the
promises were but empty air, and those who made them knew it. In fact,
the firmans of reform now and again issued with so much ostentation have
never been looked on by good Moslems as binding, because the chief
spiritual functionary, the Sheikh-ul-Islam, whose assent is needed to
give validity to laws, has withheld it from those very ordinances. As he
has power to depose the Sultan for a lapse of orthodoxy, the result may
be imagined. The many attempts of the Christian Powers to enforce their
notions of religious toleration on the Porte have in the end merely led
to further displays of Oriental politeness.
[Footnote 86: "Islam continues to be, as it has been for twelve
centuries, the most inflexible adversary to the Western spirit"
_(History of Serbia and the Slav Provinces of Turkey,_ by L. von Ranke,
Eng. edit. p. 296).]
It may be asked: Why have not the Christians of Turkey united in order
to gain civic rights? The answer is that they are profoundly divided in
race and sentiment. In the north-east are the Roumanians, a
Romano-Slavonic race long ago Latinised in speech and habit of mind by
contact with Roman soldiers and settlers on the Lower Danube. South of
that river there dwell the Bulgars, who, strictly speaking, are not
Slavs but Mongolians. After long sojourn on the Volga they took to
themselves the name of that river, lost their Tartar speech, and became
Slav in sentiment and language. This change took place before the ninth
century, when they migrated to the south and conquered the districts
which they now inhabit. Their neighbours on the west, the Servians, are
Slavs in every sense, and look back with pride to the time of the great
Servian Kingdom, carved out by Stephen Dushan, which stretched
southwards to the _Ægean_ and the Gulf of Corinth (about 1350).
To the west of the present Kingdom of Servia dwell other Servians and
Slavs, who have been partitioned and ground down by various conquerors
and have kept fewer traditions than the Servians who won their freedom.
But from this statement we must except the Montenegrins, who in their
mountain fastnesses have ever defied the Turks. To the south of them is
the large but little-known Province of Albania, inhabited by the
descendants of the ancient Illyrians, with admixtures of Greeks in the
south, Bulgarians in the east, and Servians in the north-east. Most of
the Albanians forsook Christianity and are among the most fanatical and
warlike upholders of Islam; but in their turbulent clan-life they often
defy the authority of the Sultan, and uphold it only in order to keep
their supremacy over the hated and despised Greeks and Bulgars on their
outskirts. Last among the non-Turkish races of the Balkan Peninsula are
a few Wallachs in Central Macedonia, and Greeks; these last inhabit
Thessaly and the seaboard of Macedonia and of part of Roumelia. It is
well said that Greek influence in the Balkans extends no further inland
than that of the sea breezes.
Such is the medley of races that complicates the Eastern Question. It
may be said that Turkish rule in Europe survives owing to the racial
divisions and jealousies of the Christians. The Sultan puts in force the
old Roman motto, _Divide et impera_, and has hitherto done so, in the
main, with success. That is the reason why Islam dominates Christianity
in the south-east of Europe.
This brief explanation will show what are the evils that affect Turkey
as a whole and her Christian subjects in particular. They are due to the
collision of two irreconcilable creeds and civilisations, the Christian
and the Mohammedan. Both of them are gifted with vitality and
propagandist power (witness the spread of the latter in Africa and
Central Asia in our own day); and, while no comparison can be made
between them on ideal grounds and in their ethical and civic results, it
still remains true that Islam inspires its votaries with fanatical
bravery in war. There is the weakness of the Christians of south-eastern
Europe. Superior in all that makes for home life, civilisation, and
civic excellence, they have in time past generally failed as soldiers
when pitted against an equal number of Moslems. But the latter show no
constructive powers in time of peace, and have very rarely assimilated
the conquered races. Putting the matter baldly, we may say that it is a
question of the survival of the fittest between beavers and bears. And
in the Nineteenth Century the advantage has been increasingly with
the former.
These facts will appear if we take a brief glance at the salient
features of the European history of Turkey. After capturing
Constantinople, the capital of the old Eastern Empire, in the year 1453,
the Turks for a time rapidly extended their power over the neighbouring
Christian States, Bulgaria, Servia, and Hungary. In the year 1683 they
laid siege to Vienna; but after being beaten back from that city by the
valiant Sobieski, King of Poland, they gradually lost ground. Little by
little Hungary, Transylvania, the Crimea, and parts of the Ukraine
(South Russia) were wrenched from their grasp; and the close of the
eighteenth century saw their frontiers limited to the River Dniester and
the Carpathians[87]. Further losses were staved off only by the
jealousies of the Great Powers. Joseph II. of Austria came near to
effecting further conquests, but his schemes of partition fell through
amidst the wholesale collapse of his too ambitious policy. Napoleon
Bonaparte seized Egypt in 1798, but was forced by Great Britain to give
it back to Turkey (1801-2). In 1807-12 Alexander I. of Russia resumed
the conquering march of the Czars southward, captured Bessarabia, and
forced the Sultan to grant certain privileges to the Principalities of
Moldavia and Wallachia. In 1815 the Servians revolted against Turkish
rule: they had always remembered the days of their early fame, and in
1817 wrested from the Porte large rights of local self-government.
[Footnote 87: The story that Peter the Great of Russia left a clause in
his will, bidding Russia to go on with her southern conquests until she
gained Constantinople, is an impudent fiction of French publicists in
the year 1812, when Napoleon wished to keep Russia and Turkey at war. Of
course, Peter the Great gave a mighty impulse to Russian movements
towards Constantinople.]
Ten years later the intervention of England and France in favour of the
Greek patriots led to the battle of Navarino, which destroyed the
Turco-Egyptian fleet and practically secured the independence of Greece.
An even worse blow was dealt by the Czar Nicholas I. of Russia. In 1829,
at the close of a war in which his troops drove the Turks over the
Balkans and away from Adrianople, he compelled the Porte to sign a peace
at that city, whereby they acknowledged the almost complete independence
of Moldavia and Wallachia. These Danubian Principalities owned the
suzerainty of the Sultan and paid him a yearly tribute, but in other
respects were practically free from his control, while the Czar gained
for the time the right of protecting the Christians of the Eastern, or
Greek, Church in the Ottoman Empire. The Sultan also recognised the
independence of Greece. Further troubles ensued which laid Turkey for a
time at the feet of Russia. England and France, however, intervened to
raise her up; and they also thwarted the efforts of Mehemet Ali, the
rebellious Pacha of Egypt, to seize Syria from his nominal lord,
the Sultan.
Even this bare summary will serve to illustrate three important facts:
first, that Turkey never consolidated her triumph over the neighbouring
Christians, simply because she could not assimilate them, alien as they
were, in race, and in the enjoyment of a higher creed and civilisation;
second, that the Christians gained more and more support from kindred
peoples (especially the Russians) as these last developed their
energies; third, that the liberating process was generally (though not
in 1827) delayed by the action of the Western Powers (England and
France), which, on grounds of policy, sought to stop the aggrandisement
of Austria, or Russia, by supporting the Sultan's authority.
The policy of supporting the Sultan against the aggression of Russia
reached its climax in the Crimean War (1854-55), which was due mainly to
the efforts of the Czar Nicholas to extend his protection over the Greek
Christians in Turkey. France, England, and later on the Kingdom of
Sardinia made war on Russia--France, chiefly because her new ruler,
Napoleon III., wished to play a great part in the world, and avenge the
disasters of the Moscow campaign of 1812; England, because her
Government and people resented the encroachments of Russia in the East,
and sincerely believed that Turkey was about to become a civilised
State; and Sardinia, because her statesman Cavour saw in this action a
means of securing the alliance of the two western States in his
projected campaign against Austria. The war closed with the Treaty of
Paris, of 1856, whereby the signatory Powers formally admitted Turkey
"to participate in the advantages of the public law and system
of Europe."
This, however, merely signified that the signatory Powers would resist
encroachments on the territorial integrity of Turkey. It did not limit
the rights of the Powers, as specified in various "Capitulations," to
safeguard their own subjects residing in Turkey against Turkish misrule.
The Sultan raised great hopes by issuing a firman granting religious
liberty to his Christian subjects; this was inserted in the Treaty of
Paris, and thereby became part of the public law of Europe. The Powers
also became _collectively_ the guarantors of the local privileges of the
Danubian Principalities. Another article of the Treaty provided for the
exclusion of war-ships from the Black Sea. This of course applied
specially to Russia and Turkey[88].
[Footnote 88: For the treaty and the firman of 1856, see _The European
Concert in the Eastern Question, _by T.E. Holland; also Débidour,
_Histoire diplomatique de l'Europe _(1814-1878), vol. ii. pp. 150-152;
_The Eastern Question, _by the late Duke of Argyll, vol. i. chap. i.]
The chief diplomatic result of the Crimean War, then, was to substitute
a European recognition of religious toleration in Turkey for the control
over her subjects of the Greek Church which Russia had claimed. The
Sublime Porte was now placed in a stronger position than it had held
since the year 1770; and the due performance of its promises would
probably have led to the building up of a strong State. But the promises
proved to be mere waste-paper. The Sultan, believing that England and
France would always take his part, let matters go on in the old bad way.
The natural results came to pass. The Christians showed increasing
restiveness under Turkish rule. In 1860 numbers of them were massacred
in the Lebanon, and Napoleon III. occupied part of Syria with French
troops. The vassal States in Europe also displayed increasing vitality,
while that of Turkey waned. In 1861, largely owing to the diplomatic
help of Napoleon III., Moldavia and Wallachia united and formed the
Principality of Roumania. In 1862, after a short but terrible struggle,
the Servians rid themselves of the Turkish garrisons and framed a
constitution of the Western type. But the worst blow came in 1870.
During the course of the Franco-German War the Czar's Government (with
the good-will and perhaps the active connivance of the Court of Berlin)
announced that it would no longer be bound by the article of the Treaty
of Paris excluding Russian war-ships from the Black Sea. The Gladstone
Ministry sent a protest against this act, but took no steps to enforce
its protest. Our young diplomatist, Sir Horace Rumbold, then at St.
Petersburg, believed that she would have drawn back at a threat of
war[89]. Finally, the Russian declaration was agreed to by the Powers in
a Treaty signed at London on March 31, 1871.
[Footnote 89: Sir Horace Rumbold, _Recollections of a Diplomatist_
(First Series), vol. ii. p. 295.]
These warnings were all thrown away on the Porte. Its promises of
toleration to Christians were ignored; the wheels of government clanked
on in the traditional rusty way; governors of provinces and districts
continued, as of yore, to pocket the grants that were made for local
improvements; in defiance of the promises given in 1856, taxes continued
to be "farmed" out to contractors; the evidence of Christians against
Moslems was persistently refused a hearing in courts of justice[90]; and
the collectors of taxes gave further turns of the financial screw in
order to wring from the cultivators, especially from the Christians, the
means of satisfying the needs of the State and the ever-increasing
extravagance of the Sultan. Incidents which were observed in Bosnia by
an Oxford scholar of high repute, in the summer of 1875, will be found
quoted in an Appendix at the end of this volume.
[Footnote 90: As to this, see Reports: _Condition of Christians in
Turkey_ (1860). Presented to Parliament in 1861. Also Parliamentary
Papers, Turkey, No. 16 (1877).]
Matters came to a climax in the autumn of 1875 in Herzegovina, the
southern part of Bosnia. There after a bad harvest the farmers of taxes
and the Mohammedan landlords insisted on having their full quota; for
many years the peasants had suffered under agrarian wrongs, which cannot
be described here; and now this long-suffering peasantry, mostly
Christians, fled to the mountains, or into Montenegro, whose sturdy
mountaineers had never bent beneath the Turkish yoke[91]. Thence they
made forays against their oppressors until the whole of that part of
the Balkans was aflame with the old religious and racial feuds. The
Slavs of Servia, Bulgaria, and of Austrian Dalmatia also gave secret aid
to their kith and kin in the struggle against their Moslem overlords.
These peoples had been aroused by the sight of the triumph of the
national cause in Italy, and felt that the time had come to strike for
freedom in the Balkans. Turkey therefore failed to stamp out the revolt
in Herzegovina, fed as it was by the neighbouring Slav peoples; and it
was clear to all the politicians of Europe that the Eastern Question was
entering once more on an acute phase.
[Footnote 91: Efforts were made by the British Consul, Holmes, and other
pro-Turks, to assign this revolt to Panslavonic intrigues. That there
were some Slavonic emissaries at work is undeniable; but it is equally
certain that their efforts would have had no result but for the
existence of unbearable ills. It is time, surely, to give up the notion
that peoples rise in revolt merely owing to outside agitators. To revolt
against the warlike Turks has never been child's play.]
These events aroused varied feelings in the European States. The Russian
people, being in the main of Slavonic descent, sympathised deeply with
the struggles of their kith and kin, who were rendered doubly dear by
their membership in the Greek Church. The Panslavonic Movement, for
bringing the scattered branches of the Slav race into some form of
political union, was already gaining ground in Russia; but it found
little favour with the St. Petersburg Government owing to the
revolutionary aims of its partisans. Sympathy with the revolt in the
Balkans was therefore confined to nationalist enthusiasts in the towns
of Russia. Austria was still more anxious to prevent the spread of the
Balkan rising to the millions of her own Slavs. Accordingly, the
Austrian Chancellor, Count Andrassy, in concert with Prince Bismarck and
the Russian statesman, Prince Gortchakoff, began to prepare a scheme of
reforms which was to be pressed on the Sultan as a means of conciliating
the insurgents of Herzegovina. They comprised (1) the improvement of the
lot of the peasantry; (2) complete religious liberty; (3) the abolition
of the farming of taxes; (4) the application of the local taxation to
local needs; (5) the appointment of a Commission, half of Moslems, half
of Christians, to supervise the execution of these reforms and of others
recently promised by the Porte[92].
[Footnote 92: For the full text, see Hertslet, _The Map of Europe by
Treaty_, iv. pp. 2418-2429.]
These proposals would probably have been sent to the Porte before the
close of 1875 but for the diplomatic intervention of the British
Cabinet. Affairs at London were then in the hands of that skilful and
determined statesman, Disraeli, soon to become Lord Beaconsfield. It is
impossible to discuss fully the causes of that bias in his nature which
prejudiced him against supporting the Christians of Turkey. Those causes
were due in part to the Semitic instincts of his Jewish ancestry,--the
Jews having consistently received better treatment from the Turks than
from the Russians,--and in part to his staunch Imperialism, which saw in
Muscovite expansion the chief danger to British communications with
India. Mr. Bryce has recently pointed out in a suggestive survey of
Disraeli's character that tradition had great weight with him[93]. It is
known to have been a potent influence on the mind of Queen Victoria;
and, as the traditional policy at Whitehall was to support Turkey
against Russia, all the personal leanings, which count for so much, told
in favour of a continuance in the old lines, even though the
circumstances had utterly changed since the time of the Crimean War.
[Footnote 93: Bryce, _Studies in Contemporary Biography_ (1904).]
When, therefore, Disraeli became aware that pressure was about to be
applied to the Porte by the three Powers above named, he warned them
that he considered any such action to be inopportune, seeing that Turkey
ought to be allowed time to carry out a programme of reforms of recent
date. By an _iradé_ of October 2, 1875, the Sultan had promised to _all_
his Christian subjects a remission of taxation and the right of choosing
not only the controllers of taxes, but also delegates to supervise their
rights at Constantinople.
In taking these promises seriously, Disraeli stood almost alone. But his
speech of November 9, 1875, at the Lord Mayor's banquet, showed that he
viewed the Eastern Question solely from the standpoint of British
interests. His acts spoke even more forcibly than his words. That was
the time when the dawn of Imperialism flushed all the eastern sky.
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales had just begun his Indian tour amidst
splendid festivities at Bombay; and the repetition of these in the
native States undoubtedly did much to awaken interest in our Eastern
Empire and cement the loyalty of its Princes and peoples. Next, at the
close of the month of November, came the news that the British
Government had bought the shares in the Suez Canal, previously owned by
the Khedive of Egypt, for the sum of £4,500,000[94]. The transaction is
now acknowledged by every thinking man to have been a master-stroke of
policy, justified on all grounds, financial and Imperial. In those days
it met with sharp censure from Disraeli's opponents. In a sense this was
natural; for it seemed to be part of a scheme for securing British
influence in the Levant and riding roughshod over the susceptibilities
of the French (the constructors of the canal) and the plans of Russia.
Everything pointed to the beginning of a period of spirited foreign
policy which would lead to war with Russia.
[Footnote 94: For details of this affair, see Chapter XV. of this work.]
Meanwhile the three Empires delayed the presentation of their scheme of
reforms for Turkey, and, as it would seem, out of deference to British
representations. The troubles in Herzegovina therefore went on unchecked
through the winter, the insurgents refusing to pay any heed to the
Sultan's promises, even though these were extended by the _iradé_ of
December 12, offering religious liberty and the institution of electoral
bodies throughout the whole of European Turkey. The statesmen of the
Continent were equally sceptical as to the _bona fides_ of these offers,
and on January 31, 1876, presented to the Porte their scheme of reforms
already described. Disraeli and our Foreign Minister, Lord Derby, gave a
cold and guarded assent to the "Andrassy Note," though they were known
to regard it as "inopportune." To the surprise of the world, the Porte
accepted the Note on February 11, with one reservation.
This act of acceptance, however, failed to satisfy the insurgents. They
decided to continue the struggle. Their irreconcilable attitude
doubtless arose from their knowledge of the worthlessness of Turkish
promises when not backed by pressure from the Powers; and it should be
observed that the "Note" gave no hint of any such pressure[95]. But it
was also prompted by the hope that Servia and Montenegro would soon draw
the sword on their behalf--as indeed happened later on. Those warlike
peoples longed to join in the struggle against their ancestral foes; and
their rulers were nothing loth to do so. Servia was then ruled by Prince
Milan (1868-89), of that House of Obrenovitch which has been
extinguished by the cowardly murders of June 1903 at Belgrade. He had
recently married Nathalie Kechko, a noble Russian lady, whose
connections strengthened the hopes that he naturally entertained of
armed Muscovite help in case of a war with Turkey. Prince Nikita of
Montenegro had married his second daughter to a Russian Grand Duke,
cousin of the Czar Alexander II., and therefore cherished the same
hopes. It was clear that unless energetic steps were taken by the Powers
to stop the spread of the conflagration it would soon wrap the whole of
the Balkan Peninsula in flames. An outbreak of Moslem fanaticism at
Salonica (May 6), which led to the murder of the French and German
Consuls at that port, shed a lurid light on the whole situation and
convinced the Continental Powers that sterner measures must be adopted
towards the Porte.
[Footnote 95: See Parliamentary Papers, Turkey, No. 5 (1877), for Consul
Freeman's report of March 17, 1877, of the outrages by the Turks in
Bosnia. The refugees declared they would "sooner drown themselves in the
Unna than again subject themselves to Turkish oppression." The Porte
denied all the outrages.]
Such was the position, and such the considerations, that led the three
Empires to adopt more drastic proposals. Having found, meanwhile, by
informal conferences with the Herzegovinian leaders, what were the
essentials to a lasting settlement, they prepared to embody them in a
second Note, the Berlin Memorandum, issued on May 13. It was drawn up by
the three Imperial Chancellors at Berlin, but Andrassy is known to have
given a somewhat doubtful consent. T his "Berlin Memorandum" demanded
the adoption of an armistice for two months; the repatriation of the
Bosnian exiles and fugitives; the establishment of a mixed Commission
for that purpose; the removal of Turkish troops from the rural districts
of Bosnia; the right of the Consuls of the European Powers to see to the
carrying out of all the promised reforms. Lastly, the Memorandum stated
that if within two months the three Imperial Courts did not attain the
end they had in view (viz. the carrying out of the needed reforms), it
would become necessary to take "efficacious measures" for that
purpose[96]. Bismarck is known to have favoured the policy of
Gortchakoff in this affair.
[Footnote 96: Hertslet, iv. pp. 2459-2463.]
The proposals of the Memorandum were at once sent to the British,
French, and Italian Governments for their assent. The two last
immediately gave it. After a brief delay the Disraeli Ministry sent a
decisive refusal and made no alternative proposal, though one of its
members, Sir Stafford Northcote, is known to have formulated a
scheme[97]. The Cabinet took a still more serious step: on May 24, it
ordered the British fleet in the Mediterranean to steam to Besika Bay,
near the entrance to the Dardanelles--the very position it had taken
before the Crimean War[98]. It is needless to say that this act not only
broke up the "European Concert," but ended all hopes of compelling
Turkey at once to grant the much-needed reforms. That compulsion would
have been irresistible had the British fleet joined the Powers in
preventing the landing of troops from Asia Minor in the Balkan
Peninsula. As it was, the Turks could draw those reinforcements without
hindrance.
[Footnote 97: _Sir Stafford Northcote, Earl of Iddesleigh_, by Andrew
Lang, vol. ii. p. 181.]
[Footnote 98: Our ambassador at Constantinople, Sir Henry Elliott, asked
(May 9) that a squadron should be sent there to reassure the British
subjects in Turkey; but as the fleet was not ordered to proceed thither
until after a long interval, and was kept there in great strength and
for many months, it is fair to assume that the aim of our Government was
to encourage Turkey.] The Berlin Memorandum was, of course, not
presented to Turkey, and partly owing to the rapid changes which then
took place at Constantinople. To these we must now advert.
The Sultan, Abdul Aziz, during his fifteen years of rule had
increasingly shown himself to be apathetic, wasteful, and indifferent to
the claims of duty. In the month of April, when the State repudiated its
debts, and officials and soldiers were left unpaid, his life of
luxurious retirement went on unchanged. It has been reckoned that of the
total Turkish debt of £T200,000,000, as much as £T53,000,000 was due to
his private extravagance[99]. Discontent therefore became rife,
especially among the fanatical bands of theological students at
Constantinople. These Softas, as they are termed, numbering some 20,000
or more, determined to breathe new life into the Porte--an aim which the
patriotic "Young Turkey" party already had in view. On May 11 large
bands of Softas surrounded the buildings of the Grand Vizier and the
Sheik-ul-Islam, and with wild cries compelled them to give up their
powers in favour of more determined men. On the night of May 29-30 they
struck at the Sultan himself. The new Ministers were on their side: the
Sheik-ul-Islam, the chief of the Ulemas, who interpret Mohammedan
theology and law, now gave sentence that the Sultan might be dethroned
for mis-government; and this was done without the least show of
resistance. His nephew, Murad Effendi, was at once proclaimed Sultan as
Murad V.; a few days later the dethroned Sultan was secretly murdered,
though possibly his death may have been due to suicide[100].
[Footnote 99: Gallenga, _The Eastern Question_, vol. ii. p. 99.]
[Footnote 100: For the aims of the Young Turkey party, see the _Life of
Midhat Pasha_, by his son; also an article by Midhat in the _Nineteenth
Century_ for June 1878.]
We may add here that Murad soon showed himself to be a friend to reform;
and this, rather than any incapacity for ruling, was probably the cause
of the second palace revolution, which led to his deposition on August
31. Thereupon his brother, the present ruler, Abdul Hamid, ascended the
throne. His appearance was thus described by one who saw him at his
first State progress through his capital: "A somewhat heavy and stern
countenance . . . narrow at the temples, with a long gloomy cast of
features, large ears, and dingy complexion. . . . It seemed to me the
countenance of a ruler capable of good or evil, but knowing his own mind
and determined to have his own way[101]." This forecast has been
fulfilled in the most sinister manner.
[Footnote 101: Gallenga, _The Eastern Question_, vol. ii. p. 126. Murad
died in the year 1904.]
If any persons believed in the official promise of June 1, that there
should be "liberty for all" in the Turkish dominions, they might have
been undeceived by the events that had just transpired to the south of
the Balkan Mountains. The outbreak of Moslem fanaticism, which at
Constantinople led to the dethronement of two Sultans in order to place
on the throne a stern devotee, had already deluged with blood the
Bulgarian districts near Philippopolis. In the first days of May, the
Christians of those parts, angered by the increase of misrule and fired
with hope by the example of the Herzegovinians, had been guilty of acts
of insubordination; and at Tatar Bazardjik a few Turkish officials were
killed. The movement was of no importance, as the Christians were nearly
all unarmed. Nevertheless, the authorities poured into the disaffected
districts some 18,000 regulars, along with hordes of irregulars, or
Bashi-Bazouks; and these, especially the last, proceeded to glut their
hatred and lust in a wild orgy which desolated the whole region with a
thoroughness that the Huns of Attila could scarcely have excelled (May
9-16). In the upper valley of the Maritza out of eighty villages, all
but fifteen were practically wiped out. Batak, a flourishing town of
some 7000 inhabitants, underwent a systematic massacre, culminating in
the butchery of all who had taken refuge in the largest church; of the
whole population only 2000 managed to escape[102].