The White Eagle of Poland

by E. F. Benson

A semi-official admonishment to the Poles that supplies a significant comment on opinion in Germany appeared in the Kölnische Zeitung of January 15th, 1917. It remarks that though it is only two months since Poland was liberated, doubts as to the success of this have arisen in Germany. It is necessary for German frontiers to be secured against Russia, on conclusion of peace, but she cannot simply annex Poland. Independent Poland has therefore been created, but the main condition for its success is that it should have a close connection with Germany and her Allies, and its army with the armies of the Quadruple Alliance. The danger lies in the existence of Polish Nationalism which is bound to arouse the spirit of irredentism. The acquisition of German Poland and access to the sea are naturally part of the Polish ideal, but since Germany can never entertain such an idea these aspirations must be given up once and for all. As long as the war lasts, Poland must be content to be in German occupation. Poland can only prosper under German and Austrian protection, and the Poles must see to it that they use their rights in a way corresponding to German interests, for both Germans and Poles know that it was not sheer humanitarianism that called the new state into life, but the consideration of important political interests. The right thing for the Poles to do is to give up, once for all, their irredentist claims on Prussian territory, and stake their lives on a victory of German arms.

Similar exhortations appeared in the Frankfurter Zeitung and the Rheinisch Westfälische Zeitung, urging the necessity of holding Poland firmly in German Grip and strengthening the interests of German Kultur.

Now this extract sums up the exact impasse between the “independent” state and its German rulers. Germany insists that the whole well-being of Poland depends on its German orientation—no mention of Austria occurs at all—and that to stand well with Germany it must prove its devotion by the shedding of its blood in the cause of Germany.[19] It has to take Germany on trust, blind, identify itself with German aims, give up all its aspirations, and revel in its independence! For its own peace of mind it had better dismiss once and for all any idea of becoming a united Poland, if by unity is meant a “German solution” implying the joining to it of Posen, in the same way as under an “Austrian solution.” Galicia would have been united to it. But as a counter-attraction to this unrealizable programme we find the Council of State permitted to issue a manifesto declaring that one of its chief tasks is to “extend the independent state-existence to all the territories taken away from Russia, and gravitating towards Poland.” In other words, if Germany was determined not to give back any part of Prussian Poland, she might be induced to promise that some of the Russian territories once belonging to Poland should be reunited to her. This change of subject suited Germany very well; by all means let the Council of State amuse itself by dreams of enlarging Poland at the expense of Russia. That would make bad blood between Poles and Russians, and, according to the German formula, the more bad blood between other countries the better. Professor Romer, the Cracow geographer, joined in the chorus against Russia, conducted by Germany, and produced figures to disprove Russian statistics which gave the Polish population of Lithuania as 1,000,000, whereas he claimed 5,000,000 as inhabitants of it. It is more than possible that the Russian estimate is below the mark, but when we find that Gustav Olechowski, himself a Polish Nationalist, only claims 1,500,000 Poles as inhabiting Lithuania, we must conclude that the Russian estimate is nearer the mark than Professor Romer’s. He seems to have arrived at his calculation by including as Poles all Roman Catholics on the ground of a common religion. The assumption is picturesque, but has nothing to do with fact. Similarly the Polish right to annex Volhynia was put forward on the ground that owing to the emigration of Russians eastwards, the population now was mainly Polish.

These claims and others like them on Russian provinces called forth a protest from the Government at Petrograd and the most violent counterblast from the Lithuanian Nationalists, who declared that the Poles were their worst enemies. It is probable that Germany instigated those Imperialist demands, with the object not only of fomenting ill-feeling between Russia and Poland, in which it perfectly succeeded, but of giving the National Council something to occupy it, so as to distract it from its real business of drafting the Constitution. This succeeded also, and up till March, 1917, the Council, apart from starting schools for officers, seems to have accomplished nothing except to settle what the official seal of the new state was to be, and to approve of the establishment of a Committee of National Contribution, the first aim of which was to raise money for the Polish army.

The parties for complete Polish independence, with the union of territories now belonging to Russia, Austria and Germany, though they were quite incapable of getting independence, grew in numbers and weight during this period. The cynical farce of Polish government, the recruiting of Poles for industrial work in Germany, and their forcible detention there, the measures introduced by Germany for compulsory work for Poles in Posen, the census ordered by Germany for all men in the occupied territories between the ages of 17 and 50, which the Poles construed into a foreshadowing of conscription, the continued refused of Germany to appoint a Regent, were rapidly bringing resentment to a head, and Germany, who had been so successful in inspiring Polish distrust of Russia, was diverting the main flow of suspicion against herself.

Then in March the Russian revolution broke out, and on the 29th of that month the revolutionary Russian Government definitely proclaimed the independence of Poland (which was a very different thing from the meaningless phrases of the Grand Duke’s proclamation) and asked in return for a “free military union” with the country to which it promised liberty. In other words, Russia like Austria and Germany made a bid for the support of a Polish army. To this reiterated promise of independence the Council of State sent a cool reply, congratulating Russia on the liberty that she, too, had regained, but reminding her that the Central Empires had also promised Poland independence. But on the population generally the effect of this Russian proclamation was wildly exciting: Russia, democratic and free, stretched out an equal and fraternal hand, and they vented their enthusiasm in strikes and anti-German disturbances. The Council of State, however, had taken a truer view of the value of the Russian declaration, for the nature of the “free military union” was soon hinted at by the new Russian Government, who elegantly alluded to the fact that there were a very large number of Polish refugees in Russia (there were probably upwards of 1,000,000 of them, of whom 500,000 were between the ages of 17 and 45.)[20] Most of these, up to the age of 37 at any rate, had already enlisted in the Russian armies, and what was aimed at by the “free military union” referred to the time after the war, when Russia hoped, in spite of the independence of Poland, to retain a considerable number of Poles in her military forces.

The disenchantment spread, and before long it was felt that this declaration of independence would probably prove as nugatory as previous Russian declarations. But, in any case, Russia now, in chaos herself, had abandoned all claim to any suzerainty over Poland, and perhaps the most important result of the proclamation was that at this precise moment the National Democratic party, who had previously accepted the Grand Duke Nicholas’s proclamation, which implied the restoration of German and Austrian Poland to a kingdom, independent, but under Russian suzerainty, expanded their aspirations and claimed for the future Kingdom of Poland much of the territory originally belonging to Poland which had passed to Russia in consequence of the partitions.

To quiet the growing disgust with Germany, von Beseler made a journey to Berlin, and returned with the German Government’s consent that a Regent should be established, but (this “but” was a familiar feature in German indulgences) they had not yet arrived at agreement “with regard to the person of the Regent.” This, of course, again postponed the appointment of a Regent sine die, and rendered meaningless the further promise that the Germans were resolved to leave Warsaw as soon as the Regency had been established in such a way that the zones of German and Austrian occupation came under his authority. In other words, though they were resolved to appoint a Regent and thereupon leave Warsaw, they intended to remain in possession because (in spite of their resolve) they could not settle on a Regent. Austria had designated a Habsburg Regent, and Germany a Hohenzollern: the appointment of either would remove Poland too far away from the “sphere” of the other power, and therefore Poland must wait. But this message from Berlin, delivered by von Beseler, is of interest, because it shows that there was still some sort of vitality in the policy of the “Austrian solution,” or, if not vitality, the force of inert resistance. If it could not create, it could veto. Next month (June, 1917), after a further ineffectual protest from the Council of State and a threat of resignation, the German and Austrian Governments both reaffirmed their desire to appoint a Regent. Neither could do it without the consent of the other, and it served the purposes of both to give no effective government to Poland. They agreed, in fact, to differ, since their differing effected the point on which they were perfectly agreed. For the same reason the joint resolution of the Polish Deputies in the Reichsrat and of the Diet of Galicia for Polish unification with access to the sea was the mere tap of a ripple against a stone breakwater. Austria would certainly have granted that at the expense of Germany, but could refer to Germany even as Mr. Spenlow referred to the obduracy of his partner Jorkins. The Central Empires, though they might disagree with each other, were unanimous in disregarding any obligation they had entered into with regard to Poland. Austria would not give way to Germany, nor Germany to Austria, and as far as Poland was concerned, this disagreement postponed any solution of the political impasse. All the time famine was raging in Russian Poland, and also in Lithuania, where the mortality among children was terrible. Yet still parcels of food could be sent to Germany by occupying troops, without deducting from the food-rations of the recipients, and still Germany refused to guarantee—whatever her guarantee might be worth—that foreign relief for the starving Poles should be used for them and not for exportation into Germany.

Trouble was brewing: again in June, 1917, the Council of State passed a resolution that Lithuania should be reunited to Poland, and this was supported by the Inter-Party Club of Warsaw[21] under the leadership of the National Democrats, in conjunction with Realists, Polish Progressives, Christian Democrats, the National Federation and the Union of Economic Independence, for Germany, by her obstinate refusal to give substance to any of her promises, had done nothing more than consolidate Polish parties together against herself. Support was given to the Polish cause by a further declaration of the Allies, for at a meeting of the Polish National Club in Petrograd, M. Albert Thomas announced in the name of the French Government that they desired “unification independence, strength and greatness of Poland, for the Polish question is a European and an international question.” This was in flat contradiction of the declaration of the late Tsar’s Government that the Polish question was an internal Russian question, and was a direct allusion to the importance of Poland as a check to the Mittel-Europa policy of Germany. Neither Russia nor the Central Empires had given substance to the promises they had made, and it was clear that if Polish national aspirations were to be satisfied, it must be the Entente to whom Poland had to look. This revulsion of feeling against the occupying powers led to fresh disturbances that broke out in Warsaw, and to the refusal of the large majority, 85 per cent., of the Polish legions to take any oath of allegiance to the Central Powers. On that the mailed fist descended: the Polish soldiers who had refused to take the oath were sent to internment camps, and Pilsudski, who had been the one hope on whom rested the raising of a Polish army to fight for Germany, was arrested on the charge of conspiracy and imprisoned, upon which the commanders of the Polish legions resigned. Cannons were placed in the streets of Warsaw, thousands of civilians were arrested, and the Governor-General announced that he had authority to burn Warsaw to the ground, in order to show how deeply Germany had at heart the welfare of Poland.

But public opinion in Germany by no means endorsed measures of this kind, which were as unwise as they were tyrannical, and among other papers the Kolnische Volkszeitung deplored German maladministration which had made an enemy of the entire country. The state had been formed too late, no king had been appointed, and it was governed by German Jacks-in-office, who could not speak a word of Polish or French. The fact that this was allowed to pass the Censor is an indication of the general disgust in Germany of the military autocracy as applied to a country which had been promised independence. More than six months had passed since that declaration had been made, and there had as yet been no indication that it was endorsed by the faintest sincerity of purpose. According to her usual policy, Germany had tried to ingratiate herself with the Poles by fomenting their hatred of Russia, but now that tide of suspicion and distrust which she had successfully caused to flow was ebbing strongly back upon herself. Her fair promises had been shown to be shams, and even when she replaced cajolery with tyranny, she was haunted by the sense of imperfect mastery. She had tried to raise an army of volunteers to fight her battles, and had succeeded in getting together but 600 men, and when she made a demand for the forcible recruiting of Poles for the work of munitions and industrial concerns in Germany, the municipality of Warsaw flatly refused to organise any such scheme, and she had been obliged to fall back on a voluntary appeal instead. This proved to be almost as great a fiasco as her attempt to raise troops, and only 2,629 volunteers came forward. Neither by conciliation nor compulsion had she attained her aims, and now, when she had been in occupation for two years, she had not succeeded in making the Poles either her slaves or her friends. They would not willingly fight for her or work for her, and she had failed to compel them. She had not solved the Polish problem, and she was perfectly well aware of that humiliating fact. She had satisfied neither herself nor her recalcitrant dependents.