But Austria had other interests besides her own to consider. Once more it had fallen to her lot to discharge the functions of “brilliant second” to her ally. And this was her undoing.
So much depended on the reception which her demands would meet in Servia and Europe generally that the utmost care was bestowed on the wording of it. The task of drawing it up was confided to the Hungarian Premier, Count Tisza, partly on intrinsic grounds—this statesman having displayed a keen interest in foreign politics generally and in Balkan affairs in particular—and partly for political reasons, Austria being desirous of bestowing upon Hungary an active rôle in what was a fateful enterprise for both halves of the Monarchy. Before the text of the document was fixed, the results of the inquiry into the assassination were committed to writing, in the form of a pièce justificative, intended to bring the outside world into dynamic contact with what Austria brandmarked as a realm of assassins and anarchists. Hardly any mystery was made of the object which the demands were meant to attain. It was expected and intended that M. Pasitch would find it impossible to assent to the terms laid down, some of which could only be complied with by his treating the Constitution as a worthless scrap of paper. It was felt that if he yielded an indignant people would sweep away his Government, return a negative answer, and possibly inaugurate a saturnalia of anarchy, to which the Emperor Franz Josef’s troops would put a speedy end.
Sir Maurice de Bunsen, the British Ambassador in Vienna, in one of his despatches, writes of this ultimatum: “Its integral acceptance by Servia was neither expected nor desired, and when, on the following afternoon, it was at first rumoured in Vienna that it had been unconditionally accepted, there was a moment of keen disappointment.” I was in Vienna at the time, and I know that that is a correct presentment of the facts.
A long period of anxious suspense had preceded the publication of the Note. In diplomatic circles curiosity became painfully intense. Every hint of what was coming was eagerly snatched up, commented, and transmitted to headquarters. Italian diplomacy, weighed down by a sense of heavy responsibility and intuitive apprehension of imminent danger, was treated to vague phrases about the heinous nature of the crime, the necessity of preventing its recurrence, and Austria’s resolve to have her relations with the Slav kingdom placed on a new and stable basis. But beyond these generalities nothing concrete was submitted either to the Duke of Avarna in Vienna or to the Marquis di San Giuliano in Rome.
The Russian Ambassador in the Austrian capital was led to infer that no sweeping stroke would be dealt against Servia, and that the demands contemplated would be compatible with her integrity, independence, and honour. And he accordingly took a fortnight’s leave of absence a few days before the Note was presented.
Very different was the attitude of the Austrian Government towards Germany, who was vigilantly watching for every new phase of the historic transaction in order to subordinate the whole to her own vaster design. Nothing was kept back from the politicians of the Wilhelmstrasse but the rough draft of the Note. The German Ambassador, von Tschirschky, however, was one of the few who were initiated into that mystery. This, it must be confessed, was natural. For without the resolute backing of Germany the position taken up by Austria-Hungary would have been untenable. Congruously with this privileged position, Germany’s representative, von Tschirschky, saw the proposed text of the ultimatum. Not that his advice on the subject was taken or solicited. His views were known in advance. But it was he who telegraphed the wording of the document to the Kaiser, who was then ostentatiously absent from Germany. I advance this statement with full knowledge of what actually took place. This communication was made not merely for the purpose of keeping the War Lord informed of what it behoved him to know, but also and mainly in order to secure his express assent to the set terms of an official paper which was intended to bring about hostilities between Austria and Servia, and might incidentally precipitate a European conflict.
Well, the rough draft as originally drawn up by Count Tisza did not obtain the Emperor’s unconditional approval. The versatile monarch suggested a certain amendment to the wording and fixed the time-limit, the alleged object of which was to leave no room for evasion, no loophole for escape. And as a matter of course the verbal modifications he proposed—I only know that their purpose was to sharpen (scharfmachen) the terms—were embodied in the ultimatum which, thus amended and sanctioned, was duly presented. I further had it on the same indisputable authority that the time-limit of forty-eight hours was the result of a proposal coming direct from Kaiser Wilhelm, who held that Servia must not be allowed to deliberate or to take counsel with Russia, but should be confronted with the necessity of giving a categorical answer at once. His own mode of action towards Russia and Belgium, to each of which States he allowed but twelve hours for deliberation, was conceived in the same spirit and prompted by a like calculation.
CHAPTER VI
THE POSITION OF ITALY
Why this differential treatment as between Germany and Italy? one may ask. Both being Austria’s allies, each might reasonably claim the same degree of confidence as the other. Whence, then, this one-sided distrust? To this query the answer came pat and plausible. There was no difference in the degrees of confidence displayed by Austria towards the Governments of her allies, no more information having been vouchsafed to one than to the other. To the Berlin Foreign Office was dealt out the same meed of intelligence as to the Consulta. Consequently there is no ground for complaint. The matter being a concern of Austria’s, with no direct bearings on the Triple Alliance, was communicated to the other two members of the Alliance in exactly the same measure. And I have good grounds for believing that the Berlin Foreign Office did not receive directly from the Ballplatz in Vienna the text of the ultimatum to Servia. The Kaiser was the sole direct recipient.
None the less, Italy’s position was necessarily shaped in part by Austria’s failure to keep her informed of a move which might entail a European war, and might, therefore, warrant a claim on her for her services as an active ally in that war. The Consulta argued that if Italy was deemed not to have a sufficient interest in a transaction which was calculated to lead to an armed conflict, neither could she be considered to have a corresponding interest in the upshot of that transaction. For the duties of an ally during war presuppose certain corresponding rights in peace, and foremost among these is her claim to be consulted, to offer advice, and to exercise a moderating influence. And as she was deprived of those rights, so she was ipso facto relieved of the corresponding duties. And to this line of reasoning there is no convincing answer. That, however, is but the formal aspect of Italy’s justification of her neutrality. She can and does take her stand on higher ground. Bound to aid her allies only if these are attacked, she is under no obligation to co-operate with them in the field if they themselves are the aggressors. And as Austria and Germany deliberately provoked hostilities, they have no real claim on their ex-ally.