Why We Are At War (2nd Edition, revised) - Members of the Oxford Faculty of Modern History
Up to the eve of the present war Great Britain has consistently refused
to believe that Germany would be mad enough or dishonest enough to enter
on a war of aggression for the dismemberment of colonial empires. German
diplomacy in the past few weeks has rudely shattered this conviction.
But up to the year 1914 the worst which was generally anticipated was
that she would pursue in the future on a great scale the policy, which
she has hitherto pursued on a small scale, of claiming so-called
'compensations' when other Powers succeeded in developing their colonial
spheres, and of invoking imaginary 'interests' as a reason why the
efforts of explorers and diplomatists should not be allowed to yield to
France their natural fruits of increased colonial trade. It is not our
business to impugn or to defend the partition of Africa, or the methods
by which it has been brought about. But it is vital to our subject that
we should describe the methods by which Germany has endeavoured to
intimidate France at various stages of the African question. The trouble
arose out of a Moroccan Agreement between England and France, which was
the first definite proof that these two Powers were drifting into
relations closer than that of ordinary friendship.
In 1904 England and France settled their old quarrel about Egypt. France
recognized the English occupation of Egypt; England, on her side,
promised not to impede the extension of French influence in Morocco. It
was agreed that neither in Egypt nor in Morocco should there be a
political revolution; and that in both countries the customs tariff
should make no distinction between one nation and another. This compact
was accompanied by a settlement of the old disputes about French fishing
rights in Newfoundland, and of more recent difficulties concerning the
frontiers between French and English possessions in West Africa.[12] The
whole group formed a step in a general policy, on both sides, of healing
local controversies which had little meaning except as instruments of
diplomatic warfare. The agreement regarding Egypt and Morocco is
distinguished from that concerning West Africa and Newfoundland in so
far as it recognizes the possibility of objections on the part of other
Powers. It promised mutual support in the case of such objections; but
not the support of armed force, only that of diplomatic influence.
At the moment of these agreements Count Buelow told the Reichstag that
Germany had no objection, as her interests were in no way imperilled by
them. Later, however, Germany chose to regard the Moroccan settlement as
an injury or an insult or both. In the following year the Kaiser made a
speech at Tangier (March, 1905) in which he asserted that he would
uphold the important commercial and industrial interests of Germany in
Morocco, and that he would never allow any other Power to step between
him and the free sovereign of a free country. It was subsequently
announced in the German Press that Germany had no objection to the
Anglo-French Agreement in itself, but objected to not having been
consulted before it was arranged. This complaint was met, on the part of
France, by the retirement of M. Delcasse, her Minister of Foreign
Affairs, and by her assent to an International Conference regarding
Morocco. The Conference met at Algeciras, and German pretensions were
satisfied by an international Agreement.[13] It is to be observed that
in this Conference the original claims of Germany were opposed, not only
by Russia, from whom she could hardly expect sympathy, but even by
Italy, her own ally. When Germany had finally assented to the Agreement,
her Chancellor, in flat contradiction with his previous utterance 'that
German interests were in no way imperilled by it', announced that
Germany had been compelled to intervene by her economic interests, by
the prestige of German policy, and by the dignity of the German Empire.
The plain fact was that Germany, soon after the conclusion of the
Anglo-French agreements, had found herself suddenly delivered from her
preoccupations on the side of Russia, and had seized the opportunity to
assert herself in the West while Russia was involved in the most
critical stage of her struggle with Japan. But this war came to an end
before the Convention of Algeciras had begun; and Russia, even in the
hour of defeat and internal revolutions, was still too formidable to be
overridden, when she ranged herself beside her Western ally.
Of the part which England played in the Moroccan dispute there are
different versions. What is certain is that she gave France her
diplomatic support. But the German Chancellor officially acknowledged,
when all was over, that England's share in the Anglo-French Agreement
had been perfectly correct, and that Germany bore England no ill-will
for effecting a _rapprochement_ with France. Still there remained a
strong impression, not only in England and France, that there had been
on Germany's part a deliberate intention to test the strength of the
Anglo-French understanding and, if possible, to show France that England
was a broken reed.
It is not surprising that under these circumstances England has taken,
since 1906, the precaution of freeing herself from any embarrassments in
which she had previously been involved with other Powers. In 1905 she
had shown her goodwill to Russia by exercising her influence to moderate
the terms of the settlement with Japan. This was a wise step, consonant
alike with English treaty-obligations to Japan and with the interests of
European civilization. It led naturally to an amicable agreement with
Russia (1907) concerning Persia, Afghanistan, and Tibet, the three
countries which touch the northern borders of our Indian Empire. It
cannot be too strongly emphasized that this agreement was of a local
character, exactly as was that with France; that our friendly
understandings with France and with Russia were entirely separate; and
that neither related to the prosecution of a common policy in Europe;
unless indeed the name of a policy could be given to the precaution,
which was from time to time adopted, of permitting consultations between
the French and English military experts. It was understood that these
consultations committed neither country to a policy of common
action.[14] England was drifting from her old attitude of 'splendid
isolation'; but she had as yet no desire to involve herself, even for
defensive purposes, in such a formal and permanent alliance as that
which had been contracted by Germany, Austria, and Italy.
But her hand was forced by Germany in 1911. Again the question of
Morocco was made to supply a pretext for attacking our friendship with
France. The German occupation of Agadir had, and could have, only one
meaning. It was 'fastening a quarrel on France on a question that was
the subject of a special agreement between France and us'.[15] The
attack failed in its object. War was averted by the prompt action of the
British Government. Mr. Asquith[16] announced that Great Britain, in
discussing the Moroccan question, would have regard to British
interests, which might be more directly involved than had hitherto been
the case, and also to our treaty obligations with France. Somewhat later
Mr. Asquith announced that if the negotiations between France and
Germany did not reach a satisfactory settlement, Great Britain would
become an active party to the discussion.[17] The nature of British
interests were appropriately defined by Mr. Lloyd George in a Guildhall
speech as consisting in the peace of the world, the maintenance of
national honour, and the security of international trade.[18] The last
phrase was a significant reference to the fact that Agadir, though
valueless for commercial purposes, might be invaluable to any Power
which desired to molest the South Atlantic trade routes. No one doubted
then, or doubts to-day, that England stood in 1911 on the brink of a war
which she had done nothing to provoke.
The situation was saved in 1911 by the solidarity of England and France.
Two Powers, which in the past had been separated by a multitude of
prejudices and conflicting ambitions, felt at last that both were
exposed to a common danger of the most serious character. Hence a new
phase in the Anglo-French _entente_, which was cemented, not by a
treaty, but by the interchange of letters between the English Secretary
for Foreign Affairs (Sir Edward Grey) and the French Ambassador in
London (M. Paul Cambon). On November 22, 1912, Sir Edward Grey[19]
reminded M. Cambon of a remark which the latter had made, 'that if
either Government had grave reason to expect an unprovoked attack by a
third Power, it might become essential to know whether it could in that
event depend on the armed assistance of the other.' Sir Edward Grey
continued:--'I agree that if either Government had grave reason to
expect an unprovoked attack by a third Power, or something that
threatened the general peace, it should immediately discuss with the
other whether both Governments should act together to prevent aggression
and to preserve peace, and, if so, what measures they would be prepared
to take in common. If these measures involved action, the plans of the
General Staffs would at once be taken into consideration, and the
Governments would then decide what effect should be given to them.'
M. Cambon replied on the following day that he was authorized to accept
the arrangement which Sir E. Grey had offered.[20]
The agreement, it will be seen, was of an elastic nature. Neither party
was bound to co-operate, even diplomatically, with the other. The
undertaking was to discuss any threatening situation, and to take common
measures if both agreed to the necessity; there was an admission that
the agreement might result in the conduct of a joint defensive war upon
a common plan. Such an understanding between two sovereign states could
be resented only by a Power which designed to attack one of them without
clear provocation.
The date at which these notes were interchanged is certainly
significant. In November, 1912, the Balkan Allies were advancing on
Constantinople, and already the spoils of the Balkan War were in
dispute. Servia incurred the hostility of Austria-Hungary by demanding
Albania and Adriatic ports; and the Dual Monarchy announced that it
could never accept this arrangement. Behind Servia Austrian statesmen
suspected the influence of Russia; it was, they said, a scheme for
bringing Russia down to a sea which Austria regarded as her own
preserve. Austria mobilized her army, and a war could hardly have been
avoided but for the mediation of Germany and England. If England had
entertained the malignant designs with which she is credited in some
German circles, nothing would have been easier for her than to fan the
flames, and to bring Russia down upon the Triple Alliance. The notes
show how different from this were the aims of Sir Edward Grey. He
evidently foresaw that a war between Austria and Russia would result in
a German attack upon France. Not content with giving France assurance of
support, he laboured to remove the root of the evil. A congress to
settle the Balkan disputes was held at London in December, 1912; and it
persuaded Servia to accept a reasonable compromise, by which she
obtained commercial access to the Adriatic, but no port. This for the
moment pacified Austria and averted the world-war. To whom the solution
was due we know from the lips of German statesmen. The German Chancellor
subsequently (April 7, 1913) told the Reichstag:--
'A state of tension had for months existed between Austria-Hungary
and Russia which was only prevented from developing into war by the
moderation of the Powers.... Europe will feel grateful to the
English Minister of Foreign Affairs for the extraordinary ability
and spirit of conciliation with which he conducted the discussion of
the Ambassadors in London, and which constantly enabled him to
bridge over differences.'
The Chancellor concluded by saying: 'We at any rate shall never stir up
such a war'--a promise or a prophecy which has been singularly
falsified.
It is no easy matter to understand the line of conduct which Germany has
adopted towards the great Slavonic Power on her flank. Since Bismarck
left the helm, she has sometimes steered in the direction of
subservience, and sometimes has displayed the most audacious insolence.
Periodically, it is to be supposed, her rulers have felt that in the
long run the momentum of a Russian attack would be irresistible; at
other times, particularly after the Russo-Japanese War, they have
treated Russia, as the Elizabethans treated Spain, as 'a colossus
stuffed with clouts.' But rightly or wrongly they appear to have assumed
that sooner or later there must come a general Armageddon, in which the
central feature would be a duel of the Teuton with the Slav; and in
German military circles there was undoubtedly a conviction that the epic
conflict had best come sooner and not later. How long this idea has
influenced German policy we do not pretend to say. But it has certainly
contributed to her unenviable prominence in the 'race of armaments'
which all thinking men have condemned as an insupportable, tax upon
Western civilization, and which has aggravated all the evils that it was
intended to avert.
The beginning of the evil was perhaps due to France; but, if so, it was
to a France which viewed with just alarm the enormous strides in
population and wealth made by Germany since 1871. The 'Boulanger Law' of
1886 raised the peace footing of the French army above 500,000 men, at a
time when that of Germany was 427,000, and that of Russia 550,000.
Bismarck replied by the comparatively moderate measure of adding 41,000
to the German peace establishment for seven years; and it is significant
of the difference between then and now that he only carried his Bill
after a dissolution of one Reichstag and a forcible appeal to its
successor.
France must soon have repented of the indiscretion to which she had been
tempted by a military adventurer. With a population comparatively small
and rapidly approaching the stationary phase it was impossible that she
could long maintain such a race. In 1893 Count Caprivi's law, carried
like that of Bismarck after a stiff struggle with the Reichstag, raised
the peace establishment to 479,000 men. Count Caprivi at the same time
reduced the period of compulsory service from three years to two; but
while this reform lightened the burden on the individual conscript, it
meant a great increase in the number of those who passed through
military training, and an enormous increase of the war strength. The
Franco-Russian _entente_ of 1896 was a sign that France began to feel
herself beaten in the race for supremacy and reduced to the defensive.
In 1899 the German peace strength was raised to 495,000 for the next six
years; in 1905 to 505,000. On the second of these occasions the German
Government justified its policy by pointing out that the French war
strength was still superior to that of Germany, and would become still
stronger if France should change the period of service from three years
to two. The German law was announced in 1904; it had the natural effect.
The French Senate not only passed the new law early in 1905, but also
swept away the changes which the Lower House had introduced to lighten
the burden of annual training upon territorial reserves. France found
her justification in the Moroccan episode of the previous year.
This was not unreasonable; but since that date France has been heavily
punished for a step which might be taken to indicate that _Revanche_ was
still a feature of her foreign policy. Since 1886 her utmost efforts
have only succeeded in raising her peace establishment to 545,000
(including a body of 28,000 colonial troops stationed in France), and
her total war strength to 4,000,000. In the same period the peace
establishment of Germany was raised to over 800,000, and her total war
strength of fully trained men to something like 5,400,000. It is obvious
from these figures that a policy of isolation has long ceased to be
possible to France; and that an alliance with Russia has been her only
possible method of counterbalancing the numerical superiority of the
German army, which is certainly not less well equipped or organized than
that of France.
This Russian alliance of France has been the only step in her
continental policy which could be challenged as tending to overthrow the
European balance. Undoubtedly it is France's prime offence in German
eyes; and her colonial policy has only been attacked as a pretext for
picking a quarrel and forcing on a decisive trial of strength before the
growth of Russian resources should have made her ally impregnable.
Let us now look at the German military preparations from a German point
of view. The increases of the last twenty years in military expenditure
and in fighting strength have been openly discussed in the Reichstag;
and the debates have usually run on the same lines, because the
Government up to 1912 pursued a consistent policy, framed for some years
ahead and embodied in an Army Act. The underlying principle of these
Army Acts (1893, 1899, 1905, 1911) was to maintain a fairly constant
ratio between the peace strength and the population. But the war
strength was disproportionately increased by the Caprivi Army Act of
1893, which reduced the period of compulsory service from three years to
two. The hardly-veiled intention of the German War Staff was to increase
its war resources as rapidly as was consistent with the long-sufferance
of those who served and those who paid the bill. It was taken as
axiomatic that an increasing population ought to be protected by an
increasing army. National defence was of course alleged as the prime
consideration; and if these preparations were really required by growing
danger on the two main frontiers of Germany, no German could do
otherwise than approve the policy, no foreign Power could feel itself
legitimately aggrieved.
Unfortunately it has been a maxim of German policy in recent years that
national independence means the power of taking the aggressive in any
case where national interests or _amour-propre_ may prompt it. The
increase of the German army, either in numbers or in technical
efficiency, seems to be regularly followed by masterful strokes of
diplomacy in which the 'mailed fist' is plainly shown to other
continental Powers. Thus in 1909, at the close of a quinquennium of
military re-equipment, which had raised her annual army budget from
L27,000,000 to L41,000,000, Germany countenanced the Austrian annexation
of Bosnia and the Herzegovina, and plainly told the authorities at St.
Petersburg that any military action against Austria would bring Russia
into a state of war with Germany. It was a startling step; _radix
malorum_ we may call it, so far as the later development of the
continental situation is concerned. Russia withdrew from the impending
conflict in 1909, but it is improbable that she has ever forgiven the
matter or the manner of the German ultimatum.
In 1911 followed the episode of Agadir, which was clearly an attempt to
'force a quarrel on France.' But in 1911 Germany realized that her
military calculations had been insufficient, if she wished to continue
these unamiable diplomatic manners. It was not a question of
self-preservation; it was a question, as the German Chancellor told the
Reichstag, of showing the world that 'Germany was firmly resolved not to
be pushed aside.' Hence the sensational Army Bill of 1912, necessitated,
as the Government told the Reichstag, by the events of 1911. The Russian
peril could hardly be described as imminent. The Prussian Minister of
War said publicly in 1911 that 'there was no Government which either
desired or was seeking to bring about a war with Germany.' Russia had
recently taken steps which, at Berlin, perhaps, were read as signs of
weakness, but elsewhere were hailed as proofs of her desire for general
peace. M. Isvolsky, the supposed champion of Balkan ideals, had retired
from office; his successor, M. Sazonof, had accompanied the Czar to the
Potsdam interview (1910); the outstanding disputes of Germany and Russia
over their Persian interests had been settled by agreement in 1911.
But the German Army Bill of 1912 was followed by Russia's intervention
in the Balkans to secure for Servia at least commercial access to the
Adriatic. This compromise, ostensibly promoted and belauded by German
statesmanship, only increased the determination of the German Government
to 'hold the ring' in the Balkans, to claim for Austria the right of
settling her own differences with Servia as she would, and to deny
Russia any interest in the matter. In 1913 came the supreme effort of
the German General Staff: an Army Act for raising the peace strength by
instalments until it reached 870,000, and for the eventual provision of
a war strength of 5,400,000 men. This enormous increase was recommended
'by the unanimous judgement of the military authorities' as being
'necessary to secure the future of Germany.' The Chancellor warned the
Reichstag that, although relations were friendly with Russia, they had
to face the possibilities involved in the Pan-Slavist movement; while in
Russia itself they had to reckon with a marvellous economic development
and an unprecedented reorganization of the army. There was also a
reference to the new law for a return to three years' service which
France was introducing to improve the efficiency of her peace
establishment. But it was obvious that Russia was the main
preoccupation. Germany had forced the pace both in the aggrandizement of
her military strength and in the methods of her diplomatic intercourse.
Suddenly she found herself on the brink of an abyss. She had gone too
far; she had provoked into the competition of armaments a Power as far
superior to Germany in her reserves of men as Germany thought herself
superior to France. It was not too late for Germany to pause. On her
future behaviour towards other Powers it depended whether the Bill of
1913 should be taken as an insurance against risks, or as a challenge to
all possible opponents.
The other Powers shaped their policy in accordance with Germany's
example. In France, on March 4, the Supreme Council of War, having
learned the outline of the German programme, decided to increase the
effective fighting force by a return to the rule of three years'
service. Before the German Bill had passed (June 30), the French Prime
Minister announced (May 15) that he would of his own authority keep with
the colours those who were completing their second year's service in the
autumn. The French Army Bill, when finally passed (July 16), lowered the
age limit for commencing service from twenty-one to twenty, and brought
the new rule into force at once. A few weeks earlier (June 20) Belgium
introduced universal military service in place of her former lenient
system. In Russia a secret session of the Duma was held (July 8) to pass
a new Army Budget, and the term of service was raised from three to
three and a quarter years. Austria alone provided for no great increase
in the numerical strength of her army; but budgeted (October 30) for
extraordinary naval and military expenditure, to the extent of
L28,000,000, to be incurred in the first six months of 1914. Thus on all
sides the alarm was raised, and special preparations were put in hand,
long before the crisis of 1914 actually arrived. It was Germany that had
sounded the tocsin; and it is difficult to believe that some startling
_coup_ was not even then being planned by the leaders of her military
party.
We have been told that, whatever the appearance of things might be, it
was Russia who drove Germany to the extraordinary preparations of 1913;
that Germany was arming simply in self-defence against a Slavonic
Crusade. What are the facts? Economically Russia, as a state, is in a
stronger position than the German Empire. In 1912 we were told that for
the past five years the revenue of Russia had exceeded expenditure by an
average sum of L20,000,000 per annum. The revenue of Russia in 1913 was
over L324,000,000; she has budgeted for L78,000,000 of military
expenditure in 1914, of which some L15,000,000 is emergency expenditure.
The total revenue of the German Empire in 1913 was L184,000,000; she has
budgeted for a military expenditure in 1914 of L60,000,000. To adopt the
usual German tests of comparison, Russia has a population of 173
millions to be defended on three land-frontiers, while Germany has a
population of 65 millions to be defended on only two. The military
efforts of Russia, therefore, have been made on a scale relatively
smaller than those of Germany.
We must, however, add some further considerations which have been urged
by German military critics; the alleged facts we cannot test, but we
state them for what they may be worth. The reorganization of the Russian
army in recent years has resulted, so we are told, in the grouping of
enormously increased forces upon the western frontier. The western
fortresses also have been equipped on an unparalleled scale. New roads
and railways have been constructed to accelerate the mobilization of the
war strength; and, above all, strategic railways have been pushed
towards the western frontier. Thus, it is argued, Russia has in effect
gone behind the Potsdam Agreement of 1910, by which she withdrew her
armies to a fixed distance behind the Russo-German frontier. We confess
that, in all this, while there may have been cause for watchfulness on
the part of Germany, we can see no valid cause for war, nothing that of
necessity implies more than an intention, on the part of Russia, not to
be brow-beaten in the future as she was in 1909 and 1912.