3

As is the case in all countries, among the Entente during the war there were many and varied currents of thought. When Clemenceau came into office the definite destruction of Germany was the dominant war aim.

To those who neither see nor hear the secret information which a Foreign Minister naturally has at his disposal, it may appear as though the Entente, in the question of crushing Germany's military strength, had sometimes been ready to make concessions. I think that this may have been the case in the spring of 1917, but not later, when any such hope was deceptive. Lansdowne in particular spoke and wrote in a somewhat friendly tone, but Lloyd George was the determining influence in England.

When sounding England on different occasions, I endeavoured to discover by what means the dissolution of the military power in Germany was to be or could be guaranteed—and I invariably came to an impasse. It was never explained how England intended to carry out the proposal.

The truth is that there is no way of disarming a strong and determined people except by defeating them, but such an aim was not to be openly admitted to us in the preliminary dealings. The delegates could not suggest any suitable mode of discussion, and no other proposals could lead to a decision.

Lansdowne, and perhaps Asquith as well, would have been content with a parliamentary régime which would have deprived the Emperor of power and given it to the Reichstag. Not so Lloyd George; at least, not later. The English Prime Minister's well-known speech, "A disarmament treaty with Germany would be a treaty between a fox and many geese," conveyed what he really thought.

After my Budapest speech, which was treated with such scorn and contempt in the Press and by public opinion on the other side of the Channel, word was sent to me from an English source that it was said the "Czernin scheme" might settle the question. But again it was not Lloyd George who said that.

Owing to the extreme distrust that Clemenceau, the English Prime Minister, and with them the great majority in France and England, had of Germany's intentions, no measure could be devised that would have given London and Paris a sufficient guarantee for a future peaceful policy. From the summer of 1917, no matter what Germany had proposed, Lloyd George would always have rejected it as inadequate.

In consequence of this it was quite immaterial later to the course of the war that Germany not only did nothing whatever to allay English fears, but, on the contrary, poured oil in the fire and fanned the flames.

Germany, the leading military Power in the war, never for one moment thought of agreeing to disarmament under international control. After my speech in Budapest I was received in Berlin not in an unfriendly manner, but with a sort of pity, as some poor insane person might be treated. The subject was avoided as much as possible. Erzberger alone told me of his complete agreement with me.

Had Germany been victorious her militarism would have increased enormously. In the summer of 1917 I spoke to several generals of high standing on the Western front, who unanimously declared that after the war armaments must be maintained, but on a very much greater scale. They compared this war with the first Punic War. It would be continued and its continuation be prepared for; in short, the tactics of Versailles. The standard of violence must be planted, and would be the banner of the generals, the Pan-Germans, the Fatherland Party, etc. etc. They thought as little about a reconciliation of the nations after the war as did the Supreme Council of Four at Versailles, and Emperor, Government and Reichstag floundered helplessly in this torrent of violent purpose.

The military spirit flourished on the Spree as it is doing now on the Seine and the Thames. Lloyd George and Unter den Linden in Berlin. The only difference between Foch and Ludendorff is that the one is a Frenchman and the other a German; as men they are as like as two peas.

The Entente is victorious, and many millions are delighted and declare that the policy of Might is justified. The future only can show whether this is not a terrible mistake. The lives of hundreds of thousands of young, hopeful men who have fallen might have been saved if in 1917 peace had been made possible for us. The triumph of victory cannot call them back to life again. It appears to me that the Entente has conquered too much, too thoroughly. The madness of expiring militarism, in spite of all its orgies, has perhaps celebrated its last triumph at Versailles.

Postscript.

Taking it altogether, the real historical truth concerning the peace movement is that, in general, neither the Entente nor the ruling, all-powerful military party in Germany wished for a peace of understanding. They both wished to be victorious and to enforce a peace of violence on the defeated adversary. The leading men in Germany—Ludendorff above all—never had a genuine intention of releasing Belgium in an economic and political sense; neither would they agree to any sacrifices. They wished to conquer in the East and the West, and their arbitrary tendencies counteracted the pacifist leaning of the Entente as soon as there were the slightest indications of it. On the other hand, the leading men in the Entente—Clemenceau from the first and Lloyd George later—were firmly resolved to crush Germany, and therefore profited by the continuous German threats to suppress all pacifist movements in their own countries, always ready to prove that a peace of understanding with Berlin would be a "pact between the fox and the geese."

Thanks to the attitude of the leading Ministers in Germany, the Entente was fully persuaded that an understanding with Germany was quite out of the question, and insisted obstinately on peace terms which could not be accepted by a Germany still unbeaten. This closes the circular vitiosus which paralysed all negotiating activities.

We were wedged in between these two movements and unable to strike out for ourselves, because the Entente, bound by their promises to their Allies, had already disposed of us by the Pact of London and the undertakings to Roumania and Serbia. We therefore could not exercise extreme pressure on Germany, as we were unable to effect the annulment of those treaties.

In the early summer of 1917 the possibility of an understanding seemed to show itself on the horizon, but it was wrecked by the previously mentioned events.


FOOTNOTES:

[8] Helfferich's exposé is reproduced in the Appendix. (See p. 288.)

[9] At this time I did not know that my secret report to the Emperor was handed over to Herr Erzberger and not kept secret by him. (Later it was made public through the revelations of Count Wedel.)

[10] The disclosures made by Count Wedel and Helfferich concerning Erzberger are only a link in the chain.


CHAPTER VII[ToC]

WILSON

Through the dwindling away of the inclination for peace in the enemy camp we were faced in the autumn of 1917 by the prospect either of concluding separate peace and accepting the many complicated consequences of a war with Germany and the ensuing mutilation of the Monarchy under the terms of the Pact of London, or else fighting on and, aided by our Allies, breaking the will for destruction of our enemies.

If Russia was the one to let loose war, it was Italy who perpetually stood in the way of a peace of understanding, insisting upon obtaining under all circumstances the whole of the Austrian territory promised to her in 1915. The Entente during the war assigned the several parts to be enacted. France was to shed the most blood; England, besides her fabulous military action, to finance the war, together with America, and diplomatic affairs to be in Italy's hands. Far too little is known as yet, and will only later be public knowledge, as to the extent to which Italian diplomacy dominated affairs during the war. Our victories in Italy would only have changed the situation if the defeats that were suffered had led to an Italian revolution and a complete overthrow of the régime existing there. In other words, the Royal Government would not be influenced in its attitude by our victories. Even had our armies advanced much farther than they did, it would have held to its standpoint in the expectation that, perhaps not Italy herself, but her Allies, would secure final victory.

Such was the situation in the autumn of 1917 when Wilson came forward with his Fourteen Points.

The advantage of the Wilson programme in the eyes of the whole world was its violent contrast to the terms of the Pact of London. The right of self-determination for the nations had been utterly ignored in London by the allotment of German Tyrol to Italy. Wilson forbade this and declared that nations could not be treated against their will and moved hither and thither like the pieces in a game of chess. Wilson said that every solution of a territorial question arising out of this war must be arrived at in the interests and in favour of the peoples concerned, and not as a mere balancing or compromise of claims from rival sources; and further, that all clearly stated national claims would receive the utmost satisfaction that could be afforded them, without admitting new factors or the perpetuation of old disputes or oppositions, which in all probability would soon again disturb the peace of Europe and the whole world. A general peace, established on such a basis could be discussed—and more in the same strain.

The publication of this clear and absolutely acceptable programme seemed from day to day to render possible a peaceful solution of the world conflict. In the eyes of millions of people this programme opened up a world of hope. A new star had risen on the other side of the ocean, and all eyes were turned in that direction. A mighty man had come forward and with one powerful act had upset the London resolutions and, in so doing, had reopened the gates for a peace of understanding.

From the first moment the main question was, so it seemed, what hopes were there of Wilson's programme being carried out in London, Paris and, above all, in Rome?

Secret information sent to me from the Entente countries seemed to suggest that the Fourteen Points were decidedly not drawn up in agreement with England, France and Italy. On the other hand I was, and still am, fully persuaded that Wilson had spoken honestly and sincerely and, as a matter of fact, believed that his programme could be carried out.

Wilson's great miscalculation was his mistaken estimate of the actual distribution of power in the Entente on the one hand, and his surprising ignorance of national relationships in Europe, and especially in Austria-Hungary, on the other hand, which would greatly weaken his position and his influence on his Allies. There would be no difficulty in the Entente's cleverly introducing Wilson into the international labyrinth and there bewildering him with wrong directions, so that he could not find his way out again. To begin with, therefore, Wilson's theory brought us not a step further.

The '67 settlement was proposed by a leading German-Magyar magnate in Austria-Hungary. Fifty years ago nationalism was much less developed than it is now. Nations were still sleeping—the Czechs, Slovaks and Southern Slavs, the Roumanians and Ruthenians had barely awakened to national life. Fifty years ago it was possible to distinguish between what was deceptive and what gave promise of lasting. The union between Italians and Germans only took effect with the coming of—or was perhaps the first sign of—the world-movement. At all events it was in the second half of the last century that we came within the radius of international politics.

The world's racial problems found a centre in Austria-Hungary, whose affairs, therefore, became very prominent. A chemist can enclose in his retorts different substances and observe how, following the eternal laws of nature, the processes of nature take place. In a similar way during past decades the effect of unsolved racial antagonisms might have been studied within the Habsburg Monarchy and the inevitable explosion anticipated, instead of its being allowed to culminate in the world war.

In putting forward his Fourteen Points Mr. Wilson obviously felt the necessity of settling the world problem of nationality and recognised that the Habsburg Monarchy, once arranged and settled, could serve as a model to the world, as hitherto it had afforded a terrifying example. But to begin with, he overlooked the fact that in the settling of national questions there must be neither adversary nor ally, as those reflect passing differences, whereas the problem of nationality is a permanent one. He also ignored the fact that what applies to the Czechs applies also to Ireland, that the Armenians as well as the Ukrainians desire to live their own national life, and that the coloured peoples of Africa and India are human beings with the same rights as white people. He also failed to see that good will and the desire for justice are far from being sufficient in themselves to solve the problem of nationality. Thus it was that under his patronage, and presumably on the basis of the Fourteen Points, the question of nationality was not solved but simply turned round where not actually left untouched. If Germans and Magyars had hitherto been the dominating races they would now become the oppressed. By the terms settled at Versailles they were to be handed over to states of other nationality. Ten years hence, perhaps sooner, both groups of Powers as they exist at present will have fallen. Other constellations will have appeared and become dominant. The explosive power of unsolved questions will continue to take effect and within a measurable space of time again blow up the world.

Mr. Wilson, who evidently was acquainted with the programme of the Pact of London, though not attaching sufficient importance to the national difficulties, probably hoped to be able to effect a compromise between the Italian policy of conquest and his own ideal policy. In this connection, however, no bridge existed between Rome and Washington. Conquests are made by right of the conqueror—such was Clemenceau's and Orlando's policy—or else the world is ruled on the principles of national justice, as Wilson wished it to be. This ideal, however, will not be attained—no ideal is attainable; but it will be brought very much nearer. Might or Right, the one alone can conquer. But Czechs, Poles and others cannot be freed while at the same time Tyrolese-Germans, Alsatian-Germans and Transylvanian-Hungarians are handed over to foreign states. It cannot be done from the point of view of justice or with any hope of its being permanent. Versailles and St. Germain have proved that it can be done by might, and as a temporary measure.

The solution of the question of nationality was the point round which all Franz Ferdinand's political interests were centred during his lifetime. Whether he would have succeeded is another question, but he certainly did try. The Emperor Charles, too, was not averse to the movement. The Emperor Francis Joseph was too old and too conservative to make the experiment. His idea was quieta non movere. Without powerful help from outside any attempt during the war against the German-Magyar opposition would not have been feasible. Therefore, when Wilson came forward with his Fourteen Points, and in spite of the scepticism with which the message from Washington was received by the German public and here too, I at once resolved to take up the thread.

I repeat that I never doubted the honourable and sincere intentions entertained by Wilson—nor do I doubt them now—but my doubts as to his powers of carrying them out were from the first very pronounced. It was obvious that Wilson, when conducting the war, was much stronger than when he took part in the Peace Conference. As long as fighting proceeded Wilson was master of the world. He had only to call back his troops from the European theatre of war and the Entente would be placed in a most difficult position. It has always been incomprehensible to me why the President of the United States did not have recourse to this strong pressure during this time in order to preserve his own war aims.

The secret information that I received soon after the publication of the Fourteen Points led me to fear that Wilson, not understanding the situation, would fail to take any practical measures to secure respect for the regulations he had laid down, and that he underestimated France's, and particularly Italy's, opposition. The logical and practical consequences of the Wilson programme would have been the public annulment of the Pact of London; it must have been so for us to understand the principles on which we could enter upon peace negotiations. Nothing of that nature occurred, and the gap between Wilson's and Orlando's ideas of peace remained open.

On January 24, 1918, in the Committee of the Austrian Delegation, I spoke publicly on the subject of the Fourteen Points and declared them to be—in so far as they applied to us and not to our Allies—a suitable basis for negotiations. Almost simultaneously we took steps to enlighten ourselves on the problem of how in a practical way the fourteen theoretical ideas of Wilson could be carried out. The negotiations were then by no means hopeless.

Meanwhile the Brest negotiations were proceeding. Although that episode, which represented a victory for German militarism, cannot have been very encouraging for Wilson, he was wise enough to recognise that we were in an awkward position and that the charge brought against Germany that she was making hidden annexations did not apply to Vienna. On February 12—thus, after the conclusion of the Brest peace—the President, in his speech to Congress, said:

Count Czernin appears to have a clear understanding of the peace foundations and does not obscure their sense. He sees that an independent Poland composed of all the undeniably Polish inhabitants, the one bordering on the other, is a matter for European settlement and must be granted; further, that Belgium must be evacuated and restored, no matter what sacrifices and concessions it may involve; also that national desires must be satisfied, even in his own Empire, in the common interests of Europe and humanity.

Though he is silent on certain matters more closely connected with the interests of his Allies than with Austria-Hungary, that is only natural, because he feels compelled under the circumstances to defer to Germany and Turkey. Recognising and agreeing with the important principles in question and the necessity of converting them into action, he naturally feels that Austria-Hungary, more easily than Germany, can concur with the war aims as expressed by the United States. He would probably have gone even further had he not been constrained to consider the Austro-Hungarian Alliance and the country's dependence on Germany.

In the same speech the President goes on to say:

Count Czernin's answer referring mainly to my speech of January 8 is couched in very friendly terms. He sees in my statements a sufficiently encouraging approach to the views of his own Government to justify his belief that they afford a basis for a thorough discussion by both Governments of the aims.

And again:

I must say Count Hertling's answer is very undecided and most confusing, full of equivocal sentences, and it is difficult to say what it aims at. It certainly is written in a very different tone from that of Count Czernin's speech and obviously with a very different object in view.

There can be no doubt that when the head of a State at war with us speaks in such friendly terms of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, he has the best intentions of coming to an understanding. My efforts in this connection were interrupted by my dismissal.

In these last weeks during which I remained in office the Emperor had definitely lost faith in me. This was not due to the Wilson question, nor yet was it the direct consequence of my general policy. A difference of opinion between certain persons in the Emperor's entourage and myself was the real reason. The situation became so strained as to make it unbearable. The forces that conspired against me convinced me that it would be impossible for me to gain my objective which, being of a very difficult nature, could not be obtained unless the Emperor gave me his full confidence.

In spite of all the rumours and stories spread about me I do not intend to go into details unless I should be compelled to do so by accounts derived from reliable sources. I am still convinced to this day that morally I was perfectly right. I was wrong as to form, because I was neither clever nor patient enough to bend the opposition, but would have broken it, by reducing the situation to a case of "either—or".


CHAPTER VIII[ToC]

IMPRESSIONS AND REFLECTIONS