A scrap of paper

by Emile Joseph Dillon

These things are of yesterday, and it needs some little time to deaden the recollection of them.

When the present war was on the point of breaking out, one of the first misstatements spread by the diplomacy of the two Prussianized allies was Italy’s promise to co-operate with them against France, in return for the stipulated cession to her—as her share of the spoils of war—of Tunis, Savoy, and Nice. That this proposal was to have been made is certain. Whether the intention was actually carried out I am unable to say. But the archives of the French Foreign Office possess an interesting and trustworthy report on the subject, only one item of which is erroneous, to the effect that Italy had succumbed to the temptation.

Writing in the first half of June last on the subject of Italy’s foreign policy, I expressed myself in the following terms:

The problems with which Italian statesmen have for several decades been grappling are uncommonly difficult and delicate. Probably no European Government has in recent times been confronted with a task so thorny as that with which the responsible advisers of the three kings of United Italy have had to deal. And the tact, resourcefulness, and suppleness with which they have achieved a set of results which theoretically seemed unattainable and incompatible with each other command the admiration of competent judges. Italy’s foreign policy resembles nothing so much as one of those egg-dances which Pope Leo X. delighted to witness after his Lucullan banquets. And the deftness and rapidity with which the moves are made and steps taken that seem certain to crush this egg or that, yet do no damage to any of them, are amazing. But unlike the papal dancers, the statesmen of the Consulta can look forward to no prize, to no popular applause. Abroad they are accused of double-dealing, and at home of pursuing a costly policy of adventure. France charges them with ingratitude and perfidy. In Great Britain they are sometimes set down as schemers. In Vienna they are mistrusted, while Berlin indulges in scepticism or holds its judgment in suspense. And to crown all, they are blamed or repudiated by a certain section of their own people, whose welfare they have been laboriously endeavouring to promote.

Italy’s policy in its general lines has been imposed by circumstances and tempered by statesmanship. Far from embodying Utopian notions or manifesting herself in dubious ventures, she has kept well within the limits of the essential, the indispensable. By making common cause with the two military Powers of Central Europe and forming the Triple Alliance, she steered clear of a conflict with Austria-Hungary which, so far as one can discern, there was no other way of avoiding. Italian irredentism in the Dual Monarchy and the rivalry of the two States in the Adriatic had confronted them both with the dilemma of choosing between a formal alliance and open antagonism. The decision took the form of a bold move, but a necessary one. Italy’s adherence to the League gave deep offence to France, and led to their estrangement, which was followed by several press campaigns and one damaging tariff war. And in spite of the subsequent reconciliation, the relations between the two Latin nations have never since been marked by genuine cordiality. The press of France and many eminent politicians there resent it as a sort of racial treason that Italy should be bound by treaty to Germany and Austria-Hungary. Russia, who for a time cultivated a close friendship with the Italian people, was surprised and pained by the seemingly needless and ostentatious renewal of the Triple Alliance in the year 1912, a twelvemonth before it had terminated. Even British publicists have found much to condemn in the attitude of the Italian Government during the Balkan war and down to the present moment. During all this time the cultivation of rudimentary neighbourliness, to say nothing of friendship between the Italian and the Austrian peoples as distinguished from their Governments, has been for the statesmen of both countries, and in particular for those of Rome, a work of infinite care, ingenious expedients, and painful self-discipline, openly deprecated by an influential section of the Italian press.

The alpha and omega of Italy’s foreign policy in the present is the maintenance of her actual position in the Mediterranean, and in the future the seasonable improvement of that position, and in every case the prevention of a shifting of the equilibrium such as would alter it to her disadvantage. To attain these objects is an essential condition of Italy’s national existence, and calls for the constant exercise of vigilance and caution alternating with push and daring by her responsible rulers. It behoves her, therefore, to be well affected towards France, friendly with Austria, amicable with Great Britain, to hold fast to the Triple Alliance, and to give no cause for umbrage to the Triple Entente. In a word, it is the prestidigitation of statesmanship. And her diplomacy has acquitted itself well of the task. The sum of the efforts of successive Governments has been to raise Italy to a unique position in Europe, to make her a link between the two rival groups of Powers, to one of which she herself belongs, to bestow upon her the second place in the Triple Alliance, and to invest her with enormous influence for peace in the councils of Europe. To grudge her this influence, which has been uniformly exerted for the best interests of Europe and her own, implies imperfect acquaintance with those interests or else a leaning towards militarism. Every development which tends to strengthen Italy, diplomatically and politically, tends also to augment the safeguards of public peace and to lessen the chances of a European conflict. On these grounds, therefore, were there none other, a violent domestic reaction against the policy that has scored such brilliant results would be an international calamity. Happily, there is good hope that the bulk of the nation is wiser and also stronger than the section which is answerable for, and in secret sympathy with, the recent excesses.[15]

As the Mediterranean State par excellence, Italy cannot contemplate the present distribution of power on the shores of that sea with genuine complacency. The grounds for dissatisfaction are rooted in the history of her past and in her apprehensions for the future. None the less, the status quo in Europe being hallowed must be respected under heavy pains and penalties. And the policy of the Consulta is directed to its maintenance, because any modification of it in favour of another State, great or small, would infallibly drive Italy out of her quiescence and strain her to press with all her energies and at all risks in the direction of a favourable readjustment. That is why seventeen years ago the Austrian and the Italian Foreign Secretaries concluded the so-called noli me tangere Convention, by which each of the two allies undertook to abstain from meddling with Albania, to uphold Turkish rule there, and, failing that, to establish self-government. It was in virtue of the same principle that during the Balkan war Italy supported Austria-Hungary in frustrating Servia’s attempt to divide up Albania among the allies and obtain for herself access to the Adriatic. As long as the Adriatic continues to present the same essential factors as to-day, the Italian Government will not swerve from its present attitude. But if once those factors or their relative positions towards each other underwent a change, the whole scaffolding of self-denial and everything that rested upon that would fall to pieces like a house of cards. And that scaffolding supports the peace of Europe.

On her Eastern shore Italy possesses no port capable of serving as a thoroughly suitable base for naval operations. Brindisi is at best a mere makeshift; Venice is no better. Italy’s rival, Austria, on the other hand, is luckier. Cattaro, Sebenico, and Pola serve the purpose admirably, giving the Austrian navy a distinct advantage in this respect. It must, therefore, be gall and wormwood to Italian politicians to think that an ideal port, Valona, on the Albanian coast, a few hours from Italy, lies unutilized because each State grudges it to the other on grounds which cannot be reasoned away. Valona, incorporated in the Habsburg Monarchy, which is already so well equipped on the Adriatic both for defence and attack, would turn the scale against Italy, upset the equilibrium which is at present accepted as a stern necessity, and might even unchain the forces of war. The prospect of kindred eventualities forbids Austria to allow that magnificent naval base to fall into the hands of her rival, who, holding the key to the Adriatic, could close the Otranto Canal and immobilize the fleet of the Dual Monarchy.

It would be unfair, therefore, to contend that the mainspring of Italy’s seemingly anti-Slav policy is racial bitterness or political narrow-mindedness. A natural instinct of self-preservation underlies it which neither argument nor sentiment can affect. Her present wish and the object of her endeavours is to enable Albania to maintain her independence and to keep the equilibrium in the Adriatic intact. And it is sheer inconceivable that any Italian Government should deviate from this line of action....

It is entirely misleading, therefore, to assert that Italy’s alliance with the two military Powers of Central Europe is the result of eclectic affinities or to fancy that by cajolery or threats she can be moved to sever the links that bind her to the concern. I entertain not the slightest doubt that the French Ambassador in Rome, M. Barère, whose infinite patience and marvellous tact drew France and Italy very close together for a while, would be the first to recognize that the breaking-up of the Triple Alliance is a hopeless enterprise, and an aim of questionable utility from any point of view. Outsiders, whose opinions are moulded by the daily press, may be excused for thinking otherwise. The renewal of the treaty in the year 1912, a full year before its expiry, has been uniformly construed as an indication of Italy’s resolve to emphasize her friendship with her allies, and this interpretation appeared to be borne out by a number of concomitant circumstances and in particular by the comments of the European press. It was likewise assumed that at the same time the Treaty was supplemented by a naval convention turning upon the future action of the Triple Alliance in the Mediterranean. I investigated these reports in Rome and elsewhere, and I received convincing evidence that they were both equally groundless. No new clause touching the naval forces of the Alliance, or indeed dealing with anything else, was added to the Treaty. It was renewed as it stood. And the early date at which it was signed was credibly explained to me as the outcome of a legitimate eagerness on the part of Italy to see reaffirmed by Austria-Hungary the noli me tangere Convention which acted as a bar to encroachments, territorial or other, on Albania.