The King called the Admiral (19 November) and, with perfect courtesy, yet with a visible change in his attitude, expressed his astonishment at so unexpected a version of the "Summons" agreed upon. The Admiral had no explanation to give to the King. But to us he explains everything. The French Minister at Athens was hostile to M. Benazet's amicable arrangement, and repudiated his pledges, notably the one concerning the spread of sedition. "We are not made to defend kings against their peoples," he said. The French Government likewise completely ignored the agreement, and the French Minister of War had dictated the lines on which the claim was drafted. Admiral Dartige's comments on this volte-face are interesting: "Without wanting to give the Greek Government the two guarantees which it demanded, they claimed from it the fulfilment of the engagements of which those guarantees were the counter-part. It was a truly draconian and unexpected pretension," he says, and to base that pretension on the Cavalla affair was "to misconstrue in part the reality of facts." [2]
Why, then, was M. Benazet encouraged to negotiate? Probably there were in France moderate elements strong enough to make it necessary to throw a sop to them. But the extremists were the stronger party; and when it came {153} to a decision they carried the day. However, be the motive of the mission what it may, its repudiation meant that the old policy still held the field. It was an essential part of that policy not to allow Greece any attitude other than that of a belligerent. So, while the Entente Cabinets continued disclaiming all desire to drag an unwilling country into war and declaring that the only thing they asked for was the observance of a benevolent neutrality, the practical exponents of their policy on the spot continued to take steps in which Greece could acquiesce only if she contemplated a rupture with the Central Powers.
In the evening of the same day (19 November) Admiral Dartige, at the instance of the Entente Ministers, ordered their German, Austrian, Turkish, and Bulgarian colleagues to quit the country in three days.[3] The Hellenic Government, to whom the Admiral communicated his decree, protested against this blow at the representatives of Powers with whom Greece, in virtue of her neutrality recognized by the Entente, was on terms of friendship and peace; pointing out that the step was a breach not only of the inviolability assured to diplomats by International Law, but also of a formal promise given by the French and British Ministers to Premier Zaimis when the Allied Fleet arrived at the Piraeus—viz. that the missions of the Powers at war with the Entente had absolutely nothing to fear. It asked that the decision might be revoked.[4]
Our representatives experienced no difficulty in disposing of this protest. The promise given was merely "an act of spontaneous courtesy"—it had not "any character of a definite, irrevocable engagement"—"and could not, in any case, have for effect to guarantee the Ministers of countries at war with the Entente against the consequences of hostile acts foreign to their diplomatic functions and contrary to the neutrality of Greece"—acts of espionage and intrigue which, as a matter of fact, form an integral part of a diplomat's functions. They did not, therefore, "deem it possible to ask Admiral Dartige du Fournet to revoke the decision taken by him in virtue of the powers with which he was invested." [5]
{154}
Thus the Ministers of Germany, Austria, Turkey, and Bulgaria were bundled off (22 November), protesting vigorously "against the outrages committed on four diplomatic representatives in neutral territory," characterising the things which took place at Athens as "beyond all comment," and wondering "whether a firmer attitude would not have spared the country these affronts on its sovereignty." [6]
This unprecedented measure added still further to the irritation of the Greeks, and the manner in which it was executed—without even a show of the courtesies prescribed between diplomats by the tradition of centuries—shocked the very man who acted as the executioner. Not for the first time had Admiral Dartige been made to serve ends which he did not understand, by means which he did not approve, in association with persons whom he could not respect. But the worst was yet to come.
The Greek Premier delivered his answer to the Admiral's claim on 22 November. In that answer M. Lambros showed that the Allies had already "compensated themselves" amply: the war material which they had appropriated—not to mention the light flotilla—being superior both in quantity and in quality to anything that had been abandoned to their enemies. Then he went on to state that the surrender of any more material would be equivalent to a departure from neutrality; and the Central Powers, which had already protested against the light flotilla's passing into the hands of the Entente, would so regard it. Lastly, public opinion would never tolerate that Greece should so denude herself of arms as to be unable to defend herself in case of need. For all these reasons, the Hellenic Government categorically refused the Admiral's claim.[7]
The Admiral felt keenly the iniquity of compelling a neutral country to give up, without conditions, the arms which constituted its safeguard at once against invasion and against insurrection. But what could he do? He had his orders, and it was his duty to carry them out as soon as possible.[8] So, making use of the plenary authority {155} thrust upon him, he retorted (24 Nov.) with an Ultimatum: ten mountain batteries should be handed over to him by 1 December at the latest, and the remainder by 15 December. Failing obedience to his command, suitable steps would be taken on 1 December to enforce it. He declined to believe that "the public opinion of a country so enlightened as Greece could regard as intolerable the idea of handing over to Powers towards whom it professed a benevolent neutrality a stock of arms and munitions destined for the liberation of territory saturated with the noblest Greek blood: their place was, not at the bottom of magazines, but at the front." [9]
There is always a limit beyond which human intelligence cannot be insulted with success, or human patience tried with impunity. France had long since overstepped that limit. Across all the self-contradictory subtleties of her statesmen, the Greeks, thanks to the self-revealing acts of her soldiers, sailors, and agents, had discerned the real object of her diplomacy: to force upon them M. Venizelos and to rule them through him: she had already helped M. Venizelos to establish his sway over New Greece, and was now attempting to extend it over Old Greece. The creation of a "neutral zone" did not blind them: they had only too much reason to know what neutrality meant in the vocabulary of the Allies: they had taken the King's ships: all that remained was to take his arms and to hand them over to their protégé. Such was the true significance of the fresh "pledges of friendship" claimed from them; and the claim aroused unanimous indignation: we will not submit to any further robbery, they cried. What have we gained by submission so far? Our conciliatory attitude towards the Allies and our efforts for a friendly settlement of the questions daily raised by them are regarded as signs of fear and rewarded accordingly: their arrogance increases with our compliance. No more compliance. The indignation was, naturally, most pronounced in military circles, and the officers of the Athens garrison took a vow to lay down their lives in defence of the King's and country's honour.