A scrap of paper

by Emile Joseph Dillon

It is not easy for Western minds, accustomed to truth, honour, and self-respect, to realize how all the usages of international intercourse were thus set at naught during this first stage of the European conflict. Words and forms were employed to mislead. Servia’s answer was wanted only as providing a plausible pretext for the resort to force, which had been decided on from the first. And I was informed—although I must in fairness add that I had no tangible evidence for the assertion, nothing but a strong presumption—that even if M. Pasitch, violating the Constitution of his country, had undertaken to carry out all Austria’s behests unreservedly, and if no internal troubles had resulted from this subservience, the Austrian troops massed on the Servian frontiers would not have been baulked of their prey. Another demand was held in reserve which Servia could not and would not comply with, and her refusal would have afforded the wished-for ground for invasion.

In any and every case, Servia was to have been entered by Austrian troops. That seems to have been a settled and irrevocable resolve. And all the diplomatic notes, conversations, and reports, which Sir Edward Grey, M. Viviani, and M. Sazonoff treated as excusable manifestations of fiercely burning anger, were but cunningly devised expedients to sting the Belgrade Cabinet into some word or act that might serve to justify this set plan. The plan was not at first suspected by the Entente Powers, nor was it fully understood for some time even after its existence had been discovered. It was, as we saw, twofold. First, the “punishment” of the army by the forces of the Dual Monarchy, and of the nation by the levy of a crushing war indemnity, and of the economic energies of the country by the imposition of a commercial treaty which was to lay Servia permanently at the mercy of her powerful navy. And, second, the partition of the newly annexed territories among Servia’s neighbours and the establishment of a Balkan League under the ægis of the Habsburgs. The machinery for bringing about this latter object was in full movement at the very time that the British, French, and Russian Governments were basing their moderation and self-containment on Austria’s voluntary undertaking not to annex any portion of Servian territory. Here, again, was a case of juggling with phrases which the Chancelleries of the Entente Powers were taking at their face value. Pressure was even then being put upon Turkey, Bulgaria, and Greece to assist in this underhand scheme, and reliance was being placed in the Hohenzollern King Carol, who would, it was assumed, make full use of his authority to hinder Roumania from taking sides against Austria-Hungary. The Treaty of Bucharest was to be proclaimed a scrap of waste paper.

Had the Governments of the Entente realized the impossibilities that beset them when zealously endeavouring to hit upon a formula which would have satisfied Vienna and insured the quiescence of St. Petersburg, they would unquestionably have bent their efforts in quite other directions. But this vital aspect of the matter lay hidden from their vision. They were further imposed upon by Germany’s evident anxiety that the war area should be restricted to Servian territory. Indeed, one of the most caustic ironies of the crisis lay in the eager co-operation of the Entente Powers with Germany for what they all termed the peace of Europe, but which the Teutonic States knew to be the smooth execution of their own sinister designs. The combined moral pressure of all Europe was accordingly brought to bear upon Russia to oblige or constrain her to passivity for the sake of the general peace.

And it must be confessed that the Tsar’s Ministers came up to the highest expectations conceived of them. Defence, not offence, was their watchword. They would follow the lead of their future adversaries and content themselves with parrying their thrusts. M. Sazonoff’s first step, although he may have foreseen the coming hurricane, was to ask for an extension of the time-limit. “If you want to localize the quarrel,” he argued, “you must adopt suitable measures. You say that our co-operation is essential. Well, we are willing to accord it. Let us get to work at once. Some of your demands involve a change in the Servian Constitution. No Minister and no Cabinet can accomplish this without a law passed by the Legislature. And this cannot be done in a few hours. But give Servia a few days to turn your demands over in her mind, and give us time to advise and to urge her to prudence and compromise.” Now if, as France and Great Britain assumed, Austria wanted only to punish Servia for her past attitude and obtain guarantees of future good behaviour, she would have complied with this common-sense request. But as that was not her entire plan, she refused, congruously with her preliminary arrangement with the German Kaiser, and relying on the axiom that Russia would not fight.

This negative answer disclosed the fact that the two allies’ plans went further than had been assumed. Thereupon the Tsar’s Government issued orders countermanding the manœuvres, promoting officers, summarily terminating the camp gatherings, prohibiting aviation over the frontiers, and proclaiming the two capitals in a state of “extraordinary protection.” Notwithstanding, or by reason of this, Berlin put in a plea that she should not be confounded with Vienna. “It was not we who sent the ultimatum. Neither did we know the text of it. That was Austria’s handiwork, and, what is more to the point, she has acted at her own risk and peril. Please bear that in mind.” “We certainly will. But are we to take it that, having acted at her own risk and peril, Austria is proceeding alone?” “Ah, well, she is our ally, you know, and we are bound to second her demands and stand by her to the end.” “Well, will you exercise an ally’s right and counsel her to postpone military operations until Europe has had time to secure for her ample satisfaction.” “No, we do not see our way to comply with this request.” That was Germany’s mode of speech and action. Thereupon Russia introduced a modification of the law of military conscription in so far as it deals with officers of the reserve and the militia. The practical result of this innovation was to facilitate mobilization should that measure be subsequently resorted to.

Soon after the expiry of the time-limit Austria declared war on the realm of King Peter. M. Sazonoff, having from the start defined his country’s position in the words, “Russia cannot adopt an attitude of unconcern in a struggle between Austria-Hungary and Servia,” continued to give striking proofs of the Tsar’s will to save Europe from a general war. Sir Edward Grey had offered to get satisfaction for the Dual Monarchy through the Powers, and he would have accomplished his purpose without a doubt. But Austria was bent on getting something more than satisfaction for herself and for Germany in spite of Russia, whom she stigmatized as the mischief-maker. Hence all the heavy guns of European diplomacy were levelled against the Tsardom, while the St. Petersburg Foreign Office went beyond the Hercules’ pillars of conciliation. Not only had Russia induced Servia to consent to terms which were onerous and humiliating, but the Russian Ambassador in Vienna said it was probable that his Government would, if properly approached, go still further.[18] Our own Ambassador in that capital assured his chief that he had gathered that Russia “would go a long way to meet Austrian demands on Servia.”[19] M. Sazonoff did not stop even here. He was careful to explain that mobilization should be envisaged as what it really was, namely, a mere intimation that Russia must be consulted regarding the fate of Servia, not as a threat of war.[20]

The German Kaiser, celebrating the 200th anniversary of the Kingdom of Prussia, had laid down the principle that “in this world nothing must be settled without the intervention of Germany and of the German Emperor,” yet the fate of a Slav State, which Russia had, so to say, created and watched over and protected, was about to be decided without her consent, nay, without her knowledge. Russia was to be ostentatiously ignored and the Balkan States to be impressed by the fact that she was worse than powerless as a friend. That the Tsar’s Government, however ready for compromise, would not brook this deadly affront was manifest to all excepting those who had settled it to their own satisfaction that she was too helpless to move. And the two Teutonic allies were of this opinion. That is why their answers to Russia’s demands for a conference, or at any rate for an exchange of views, were not only negative in substance, but wantonly insolent in form. All that M. Sazonoff demanded was an assurance that Servia would not be utterly crushed. It was refused. He would, he said, understand that Austria-Hungary is compelled to exact from Servia measures which will secure her Slav provinces from the continuance of hostile propaganda from Servian territory.[21] And that was what every statesman in Europe was also saying. If Austria’s demands had been, as they seemed, inspired by a legitimate desire to safeguard herself from a real Servian danger, the undertakings of Servia and Russia ought to have afforded her a broad enough basis for a pacific settlement. But all these colloquies, assurances, and claims were but the screen behind which a huge anti-European conspiracy was being hatched. And as yet the truth had not dawned on the statesmen of the Entente, who, still hypnotized by the crime of Sarajevo, were honestly working to obtain amends and guarantees for Austria-Hungary and ward off the growing peril of a general war.

Germany, ever alert and watchful, was the first to note that Russia’s attitude differed from what it should be according to programme. She did not appear disposed to take with resignation the humiliation devised for her. She declared that she would not be indifferent to a conflict between Austria and Servia. She demanded a hearing in the councils of those who arrogated to themselves the right of life and death over her Slav protégé. As soon as this discrepancy between the actual and the expected became evident, the Berlin Government, which had made provision for this eventuality, commenced elaborate preparations against Russia, particularly in the Finnish Gulf. And as is the wont of Prussia, these preparations were secret. But the Russian authorities got wind of them, and apprized our Ambassador in St. Petersburg of what was taking place.[22]

Russia’s spirited determination, coupled with her dignified conciliatory disposition, caused painful heartburnings in Vienna. It constituted the first hitch in the official programme. What was the good of having agents in St. Petersburg, who supplied exact copies of State papers and faithful narratives of private conversations, if the legitimate deductions from these data were upset at the very outset?

To me, who witnessed the gradual breaking in of this painful light on the systematic mind of Teutonic diplomacy, there was something intensely ludicrous in the tragic spirit in which it was received. Could nothing, it was asked, be done to keep Russia in bounds? Was France fully alive to the issues which Russia’s intervention would raise? Where was the love of peace so lately and so loudly professed by the Tsar and M. Poincaré?