Turkey, the Great Powers, and the Bagdad Railway: A study in imperialism

by Edward Mead Earle

The Kaiser and the Tsar Agree at Potsdam

During the early days of November, 1910, William II entertained at the Potsdam palace his fellow sovereign Nicholas II, Tsar of all the Russias. He extended his royal hospitality, also, to the recently chosen foreign ministers of Germany and Russia respectively—Herr von Kiderlen-Waechter, next to the ambassador at Constantinople the Kaiser’s most competent expert on the tortuous affairs of the Near East; and M. Sazonov, subsequently to guide Russian foreign policy during the critical days of July, 1914. It was apparent even to the untutored that there was some political significance to the conference between the German Emperor and his distinguished guests, and the press was rife with speculation as to what the outcome would be. The answer was forthcoming on November 4, when it was announced that the Kaiser and the Tsar, with the advice and assistance of their foreign ministers, had reached an agreement on the Bagdad Railway question.

A short time later the terms of this Potsdam Agreement were made public. As outlined by the German Chancellor, with some subsequent modifications, they were as follows: 1. Germany recognized the Russian sphere of interest in northern Persia, as defined by the Anglo-Russian agreement of 1907, and undertook not to seek or support concessions for railways, roads, telegraphs, or other means of communication in the region; in other words, there was to be no change in the status quo. 2. Russia recognized the rights of the Deutsche Bank in the Bagdad Railway and agreed to withdraw all diplomatic opposition to the construction of the line and to the participation of foreign capital therein. 3. Russia agreed to obtain from Persia, as soon as possible, a concession for the construction of a railway from Teheran, the capital city, to Khanikin, an important commercial city on the Turco-Persian frontier. This new railway was to be linked with a branch of the Bagdad system to be constructed in accordance with the terms of the concession of 1903 from Sadijeh, on the Tigris, to Khanikin. Both lines were to be planned for through international traffic. If, for any reason, the Russian Government should fail to build the proposed railway from Teheran to Khanikin, it was understood that German promoters might then apply for the concession. 4. The policy of the economic open door was to be observed by both nations. Russia agreed not to discriminate against German trade in Persia, and the two nations pledged reciprocal equality of treatment on the new railway lines from Sadijeh to Teheran.[1]

Russia had a great deal to gain and little to lose by the Potsdam Agreement. Whether Russia liked it or not, the Bagdad Railway had become a going concern, and there was every indication that another decade would see its completion. When finished, the Bagdad system, together with projected Persian lines, would provide Russian trade with direct communications with the Indies (via Bagdad and the Persian Gulf) and with the Mediterranean (via Mosul, Aleppo, and the Syrian coast). By the entente of 1907 with Great Britain the Tsar had renounced his imperial interests in southern Persia; therefore he had little to gain by a dog-in-the-manger attitude toward the development of Mesopotamia by the Germans. Under these circumstances continued resistance to the Bagdad Railway appeared to be short-sighted and futile. Cheerful acquiescence, on the other hand, might bring tangible diplomatic compensations. In addition, it has been suggested, Russian reactionaries were delighted at the prospect of a rapprochement with Prussia, in which they saw the last strong support of a dying autocracy.[2]

From the German point of view the agreement with Russia was a diplomatic triumph. All that Germany conceded was recognition of Russia’s special position in Persia, which affected no important German interests and exerted no appreciable influence on the balance of power in the Near East. In return, German trade was to be admitted to the markets of Persia, heretofore an exclusively British and Russian preserve; the sphere of the Bagdad Railway was to be considerably enlarged; Russian political obstruction of the Bagdad enterprise was to cease. Russian objections had been the first stumbling block in the way of the Railway; Russian protests had been the instigation of French opposition; now Russian recognition held out high promise for the final success of the Great Plan. The first breach had been made in the heretofore solid front presented by the Entente.[3]

Outside of Germany and Russia, however, the Potsdam Agreement met with a heated reception. The Ottoman press complained that Turkey was being politely ignored by two foreign powers in the disposition of her rights. One Constantinople daily said it was a sad commentary on Turkish “sovereignty” that in an important treaty on the Bagdad Railway “there is no mention of us, as if we had no connection with that line, and we were not masters of Bagdad and Basra and the ports of the Persian Gulf.”[4] M. Hanotaux, a former French minister of foreign affairs, expressed his belief that “the negotiations at Potsdam have created a situation which, from every point of view, obliges us to ask, now, if Russia has dissolved the Triple Entente.”[5] Mr. Lloyd George delivered a particularly venomous attack upon Russia for having disregarded her diplomatic engagements, and he announced in clarion tones that this desertion from the ranks of the Entente—even if condoned by France—would not cause Great Britain to alter one iota her former policy.[6] The “Slav peril” appeared to be more keenly appreciated, for the moment, in France and England than in Germany!

M. Jaurès, the brilliant French Socialist parliamentarian, believed that the Potsdam Agreement was an admirable instance of the menace of the Russian Alliance to the security of France and the peace of Europe. During the course of a bitter debate in the Chamber of Deputies he confronted the Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. Pichon, with this dilemma: “What is the situation in which you find yourself? You are going to be faced, you already are faced, with a fait accompli, a Russo-German convention on the Bagdad question. What do you propose to do? Well, you may pursue an independent course and continue to oppose the Bagdad Railway. In that event you will be in the unenviable position of opposing Germany in an enterprise to which Russia—whose interests are more directly involved—has given her support. Or, on the other hand, you may subscribe with good grace to this enterprise which Russia commends to you. What then will be your situation? For some years France has successfully resisted the Bagdad Railway. If during this time we have sulked at the enterprise, it was not of our own choice, but out of regard for Russia, because Russia believed her interests to be menaced. In short, we arrive at this paradox. You have created an extremely delicate situation between France and Germany by opposing the Bagdad Railway, in which you had no interests other than those of Russia. And now it is this same Russia which, without previously consulting you, places at the disposal of Germany the moral advantage of compelling you—you who resisted only on behalf of Russia—to accede to the Bagdad Railway.” Was this the sort of ally to whom France should entrust her national safety?[7]

In the midst of the storm over the Potsdam Agreement, M. Stephen Pichon and Sir Edward Grey alone appeared to be unruffled. Both of these gentlemen, interpolated in the Chamber of Deputies and the House of Commons respectively, averred that they saw no reason for becoming disturbed or alarmed at the new Russo-German understanding. This point of view was incomprehensible to the average citizen, unskilled in the niceties of professional diplomacy, until on January 31, 1911, M. Jaurès forced M. Pichon to admit that the French Foreign Office had been informed of the character of the Potsdam negotiations before they took place. Less than a month later Mr. Lloyd George severely criticized his fellow-minister Sir Edward Grey for having taken no action against the policy of Russia at Potsdam, although, as Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward had been fully posted on the nature of the negotiations. Apparently, then, Russia had come to the agreement with Germany only after having consulted France and Great Britain and, perhaps, after having received their consent.[8]

There were a few persons who hoped that the Potsdam Agreement might be the first step in a general settlement of the Bagdad Railway entanglement. One humble member of the House of Commons, Mr. Pickersgill, said, for example, “I cannot understand the policy of continued antagonism to Germany. Ex-President Roosevelt recently gave much good advice to our Foreign Minister, and amongst other things he said that the presence of Germany on the Euphrates would strengthen the position of Great Britain on the Nile.... The action of Russia in the recent meeting at Potsdam has brought matters to a head, and I hope the Foreign Office will approach Turkey with a view to an arrangement for the completion of the Bagdad Railway which might be agreeable to Turkey, Germany and ourselves.”[9]

The hope of Mr. Pickersgill was fulfilled, for the agreement of November 4, 1910, proved to be the first of a series of conventions regarding the Near East negotiated between 1911 and 1914 by Germany, Turkey, Great Britain and France. On the eve of the Great War the Bagdad Railway controversy had been all but settled!