The White Eagle of Poland

by E. F. Benson

(ii) A danger to be averted is the influence of Poles, whether German, Austrian or Jewish, on Russia.

(iii) Russia must be “at home” in Poland, and the Russian language must be used in public utterances.

(iv) All official positions in Poland must be filled by Poles, but no official positions in Russia must be filled by them.

(v) The Secretary of State for Poland must be a Russian.

(vi) Cholm and Eastern Galicia must be excluded from Poland, and belong to Russia.

Now is it possible to conceive a better mise-en-scene for a German declaration of independence for Poland than these amazing Russian utterances? Both received favourable consideration from the Russian Government, and between them (given that Russia in the event of her victory over Germany embodied them in a constitution for Poland) they left no shadow or semblance of independence at all. Poles might fill official posts in Poland, but they would no longer be able to occupy any position at all in Russia. Their seats in the Duma would be taken from them, and whatever conclusions they came to as to the government of Poland (whatever “Poland” might prove to be when its frontiers were defined) would be referred to the decision of the Duma, since Poles were still subjects of the Tsar, and Poles would no longer have seats in the Duma. The Secretary of State was to be a Russian, and in effect this scheme for the independence of Poland merely deprived the Poles of their seats in the Imperial Parliament. All decisions of the Polish Diet were to be referred to Petrograd, and instead of gaining liberties, they would but sacrifice any such liberties as they previously had. It is precisely as if Ireland were to lose her seats at Westminster and have a separate Parliament of her own, the legislation of which, before it took effect, would have to be referred to Westminster. Already, also, Cholm had been given back to the Poles by Austria; now this scheme confiscated it again. It is impossible to imagine a more signal triumph for German influence than this, for of all Russia’s century of political imbecility with regard to Poland, here was the very flower and felicity.

So Germany had not lost much by her year of waiting before she began to take any practical measures concerning the future constitution of Poland. She had on the contrary enabled Poland to see with devastating clearness that even if the Russian armies (as seemed highly improbable) gained a smashing victory over Germany, the Poles must not expect anything from the conqueror. She had, too, by October, 1916, blackmailed Austria into abandonment, as an official programme, of the Austrian solution, and by this year of waiting she had caused to spring up in Poland many shades of feeling, which formed themselves into parties, negligible for the most part, and divided among themselves. With regard to them, she could reflect with cynical truth that there was “safety in numbers.” But solid against her, and she knew it, was Polish national sentiment which underlay all the bickering little parties into which Poland was split up. What would have satisfied all parties (and nothing else would have satisfied them all) would have been the creation of a real united and independent Poland, at the idea of which Germany could laugh, not in her sleeve but quite openly. What probably added resonance to her laughter was the public and official utterances of the notorious Protopopoff in Paris during this month, which certainly were humorous, considering the frankness with which the Russian Government had declared its intentions. He announced that “a great Poland will arise, which will unite all the Poles, Russian, German and Austrian. It will be a Poland enjoying its own government, its own Parliament and its own language. This must happen, because it is the wish of the whole of Russia.” There was never a more irresponsible and futile utterance, and it deceived nobody.

Simultaneously, in prompt contradiction, came a semi-official utterance from Russia, proclaiming that “never will the Russian people consent that a span of Russian earth should return to Poland, or an orthodox Russian submit to even a shadow of Polish authority.” And Stürmer, then Minister of the Interior, issued a regulation prohibiting the evacuated population of Poland, Lithuania and the Baltic provinces from using Polish at public meetings. There could scarcely have been framed a completer comment on Russia’s benevolent intentions, and on her sympathy with Poland, and with Poland’s national aspirations.

Germany could hardly do more than say “Amen”; her prayer was answered, and Russia had hanged herself. And since no one else seemed inclined to proclaim the independence of Poland, she proceeded with infinite irony and the fervent consent of the All-Highest to do it herself. This proclamation was issued by the Central Empires on November 5th, 1916.