Meanwhile, Servia, under pressure from the Entente, had decided to promise Bulgaria territorial concessions, and the communication of this decision to the Hellenic Government formed the occasion of M. Venizelos's first official act. Greece, he wrote in reply, not wishing to embarrass her friend and ally at a moment when imperative necessity forced the latter to submit to painful sacrifices, abandoned her objections. But she would be lacking in sincerity if she failed to tell Servia straightway that "the raison d'être of the Alliance—namely, the territorial equilibrium and the mutual guarantee of their respective possessions—being profoundly affected by the contemplated changes, the reciprocal obligations of the Alliance could not survive except by virtue of a renewal." M. Passitch replied verbally that he thought like M. Venizelos. But, as it happened, the question did not arise; Servia's promise was coupled with so many stipulations and reservations, that, in the opinion of the Entente Powers, {52} it amounted almost to a refusal;[4] and the thread of the negotiations was very soon broken by events. Destiny moved too fast for diplomacy.
Hardly had these dispatches been exchanged, when Colonel Vlachopoulos, the emissary of the Greek General Staff to Servia, arrived in Athens, bringing a report of the gravest nature. After twelve months' evasions, the Servian Minister of War had at last mentioned to him the need for an understanding between the two Staffs, and the Servian Director of Military Operations stated that Servia, far from being able to contribute to a common struggle against Bulgaria the 150,000 combatants stipulated by the Graeco-Servian Convention, could not at the moment transport to the northern parts of the Bulgarian frontier more than one or two divisions, while as to the southern parts, which most immediately concerned Greece, they would have to be left with the eight regiments of 1915 conscripts—that is, raw recruits. Simultaneously, the fear which the Greek military authorities had expressed to their Servian colleagues in the previous spring—that delay might prove fatal—was being realized: from all sides came intelligence of the concentration of large Austro-German forces towards the Danube.
In the circumstances, after studying Colonel Vlachopoulos's report, the Greek General Staff submitted to the Government (14 September) the opinion that for Greece to embark on a war against Bulgaria, so long as she was not assured of the co-operation of adequate Servian forces, was tantamount to courting annihilation; and of such co-operation there was no prospect: the moment the Serbs found themselves faced by a superior Austro-German army, the Greeks would have to fight the Bulgars as well as, in all probability, the Turks alone.
As if in confirmation of this forecast, a week later (21 September), the Hellenic Government received from Sofia the official announcement of the conclusion of a Turco-Bulgarian agreement and of Bulgarian mobilization; the latter measure being, according to the Bulgarian Premier, purely precautionary: as the Austro-German {53} armies had just begun an attack on Servia, and the theatre of war approached the Bulgarian frontiers, his country was obliged to take up an attitude of armed neutrality.[5]
The news threw M. Venizelos into a fever of excitement. He had, meanwhile, become most solicitous about Greece-Servian co-operation, and had not permitted his mind to be impressed by Colonel Vlachopoulos's report. When Austria and Germany had their hands full elsewhere, Servia's peril had left him cold; it set him on fire now when they were ready to hurl their legions into the Balkan Peninsula—when it was no longer for Greece a question of fighting Bulgaria only, but Bulgaria and Turkey and the Central Empires. M. Venizelos was a statesman of broad ideas, a hater of dry facts, and an impenitent believer in his own star. For the matter of time he cared very little; considerations of odds did not weigh with him unduly; and he cherished a sovereign contempt for the cautious attitude of professional soldiers and other uninspired persons. Never did these qualities appear more vividly than on this 21st of September.
At 5 p.m. M. Venizelos went to Tatoi, the King's country residence, to confer with him, having previously arranged that a mobilization Order should be drawn up and presented to his Majesty for signature at 6.30 p.m., by which time he expected to have finished his conversation. The following is a synopsis of that memorable interview based on a report from M. Venizelos's own lips.[6]
The King readily agreed to mobilize, but firmly resisted the proposal to enter the war, on the ground that the odds were too heavy. M. Venizelos argued that, even if Germany had five million men available on other fronts, she could not bring them to the Balkans, and consequently there was no cause for fear: he spoke learnedly and at enormous length of geographical conditions and means of transport, of victualling, of guns and bayonets, of morale—he had allowed himself an hour and a half. How the King must have felt under this harangue, any expert who has had to listen to an amateur laying down the law to him on his own subject may imagine. On finding his military arguments fruitless, M. Venizelos shifted his ground; though, the military habit being too strong, he {54} could not get away from military phraseology: "I was then obliged," he tells us, "to bring forward my heavy artillery."
"Majesty," I said, "I have not succeeded in persuading you. I am very sorry; but it is my duty, as representing at this moment the Sovereignty of the People, to tell you that you have no right to disagree with me this time. The people by the last elections has approved my policy and given me its confidence. It knew that the basis of my policy was not to let Bulgaria, by crushing Servia, become too big and crush us to-morrow. You cannot therefore at this moment depart from this policy—unless you decide to set aside the Constitution; in which case you must say so clearly, abrogating the Constitution by a Decree and assuming the responsibility."
The King replied: "You know I recognize that I am bound to obey the popular verdict when it is a question of the internal affairs of the country; but when it is a question of foreign affairs—the great national questions—my view is that, so long as I consider a thing right or wrong, I must insist that it shall or shall not be done, because I feel responsible before God."
At this utterance, M. Venizelos narrates, "I remember that a feeling of distress came over me, and with clasped hands, I shook my head in a melancholy manner, saying: 'Alas! we are before the theory of kingship by the grace of God: poor Greece!'" [7] After a little, he told the King that, in the actual circumstances, he could not undertake a struggle for the Constitution; he could only tender his resignation.