“As I remarked yesterday to M. Boghitchevitch” (the former Serbian chargé d’affaires, who was on a flying visit to Berlin, where he had been greatly appreciated during the Balkan War), “the best advice I can give Serbia is that she should make no more than a show of resistance to Austria, and should come to terms as soon as possible, by accepting all the conditions of the Vienna Cabinet. I added, in speaking to him, that if a universal war broke out and went in favour of the Triplice, Serbia would probably cease to exist as a nation; she would be wiped off the map of Europe. I still hope, though, that such a widespread conflict may be avoided, and that we shall succeed in inducing Russia not to intervene on Serbia’s behalf. Remember that Austria is determined to respect Serbia’s integrity, once she has obtained satisfaction.”
I pointed out to the Under-Secretary that the Belgrade Cabinet’s reply, according to some of my colleagues who had read it, was, apart from a few unimportant restrictions, an unqualified surrender to Austria’s demands. Herr Zimmermann said that he had no knowledge of this reply (it had been handed in two days before to the Austrian minister at Belgrade!), and that, in any case, there was no longer any possibility of preventing an Austro-Hungarian military demonstration.
The Serbian document was not published by the Berlin newspapers until the 29th. On the previous day they had all reproduced a telegram from Vienna, stating that this apparent submission was altogether inadequate. The prompt concessions made by the Pasitch Cabinet, concessions that had not been anticipated abroad, failed to impress Germany. She persisted in seeing only with Austria’s eyes.
Herr Zimmermann’s arguments held good solely on the hypothesis that, in the action brought by Austria against Serbia, no Power had the right to come forward as counsel for the defendant, or to interfere in the trial at all. This claim amounted to depriving Russia of her historic rôle in the Balkans. Carried to its logical conclusion, the theory meant condemning unheard every small State that should be unfortunate enough to have a dispute with a great Power. According to the principles of the Berlin Cabinet, the great Power should be allowed, without let or hindrance, to proceed to the execution of its weak opponent. England, therefore, would have had no right to succour Belgium when the latter was invaded by Germany, any more than Russia had a right to protect Serbia from the Austrian menace.
Russia, it was asserted at the Wilhelmstrasse, ought to be satisfied with the assurance that Austria would not impair the territorial integrity of Serbia or mar her future existence as an independent State. What a hollow mockery such a promise would seem, when the whole country had been ravaged by fire and sword! Surely it was decreed that, after this “exemplary punishment,” Serbia should become the lowly vassal of her redoubtable neighbour, living a life that was no life, cowed by the jealous eye of the Austrian minister—really the Austrian Viceroy—at Belgrade. Had not Count Mensdorff declared to Sir Edward Grey that before the Balkan War Serbia was regarded as gravitating towards the Dual Monarchy’s sphere of influence? A return to the past, to the tame deference of King Milan, was the least that Austria would exact.
The version given out by the Imperial Chancellery, besides being intended to enlighten foreign Governments, had a further end in view. Repeated ad nauseam by the Press, it aimed at misleading German public opinion. From the very opening of the crisis, Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg and his colleagues strove, with all the ingenuity at their command, to hoodwink their countrymen, to shuffle the cards, to throw beforehand on Russia, in case the situation should grow worse, the odium of provocation and the blame for the disaster, to represent that Power as meddling with a police inquiry that did not concern her in the least. This cunning manœuvre resulted in making all Germany, without distinction of class or party, respond to her Emperor’s call at the desired moment, since she was persuaded (as I have explained in a previous chapter) that she was the object of a premeditated attack by Tsarism.
VI.
The game of German diplomacy during these first days of the crisis, 24th to 28th July, has already been revealed. At first inclined to bludgeon, it soon came to take things easily, even affecting a certain optimism, and by its passive resistance bringing to nought all the efforts and all the proposals of the London, Paris, and St. Petersburg Cabinets. To gain time, to lengthen out negotiations, seems to have been the task imposed upon Austria-Hungary’s accomplice, in order to promote rapid action by the Dual Monarchy, and to face the Triple Entente with irrevocable deeds—namely, the occupation of Belgrade and the surrender of the Serbians. But things did not go as Berlin and Vienna had hoped, and the determined front shown by Russia, who in answer to the partial mobilization of Austria mobilized her army in four southern districts, gave food for reflection to the tacticians of the Wilhelmstrasse. Their language and their frame of mind grew gentler to a singular degree on the fifth day, 28th July. It may be recalled, in passing, that in 1913, during the Balkan hostilities, Austria and Russia had likewise proceeded to partial mobilizations; yet these steps had not made them come to blows or even brought them to the verge of hostilities.
On the evening of the 26th the Emperor’s return was announced in Berlin. Why did he come back so suddenly? I think I am justified in saying that, at this news, the general feeling among the actors and spectators of the drama was one of grave anxiety. Our hearts were heavy within us; we had a foreboding that the decisive moment was drawing near. It was the same at the Wilhelmstrasse. To the British chargé d’affaires Herr von Zimmermann frankly confessed his regret at this move, on which William II. had decided without consulting any one.
Nevertheless, our fears at first seemed to be unwarranted. The 28th was marked by a notable loosening of Germany’s stiff-necked attitude. The British ambassador, who had returned to Berlin on the previous day, was summoned in the evening by the Chancellor. Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg, while rejecting the conference proposed by Sir Edward Grey, promised to use his good offices to induce Russia and Austria to discuss the position in an amicable fashion. “A war between the great Powers must be averted,” were his closing words. It is highly probable that the Chancellor at that time sincerely wanted to keep the peace, and that his first efforts, when he saw the danger coming nearer and nearer, succeeded in curbing the Emperor’s impatience for forty-eight hours. The telegram sent by William II. to the Tsar on the evening of the 28th is friendly, almost reassuring: “Bearing in mind the cordial friendship that has united us two closely for a long time past, I am using all my influence to make Austria arrive at a genuine and satisfactory understanding with Russia.”