Let us turn now to France. Since 1870 we find contending there, with varying fortunes and strength, two opposite currents of sentiment and policy. One was that of revanche against Germany, inspired by the old traditions of glory and hegemony, associated with hopes of a monarchist or imperialistic revolution, and directed, in the first place, to a recovery of Alsace-Lorraine. The other policy was that of peace abroad and socialistic transformation at home, inspired by the modern ideals of justice and fraternity, and supported by the best of the younger generation of philosophers, poets, and artists, as well as by the bulk of the working class. Nowhere have these two currents of contemporary aspiration met and contended as fiercely as in France. The Dreyfus case was the most striking act in the great drama. But it was not the concluding one. French militarism, in that affair, was scotched but not killed, and the contest was never fiercer than in the years immediately preceding the war. The fighters for peace were the Socialists, under their leader, Jaurès, the one great man in the public life of Europe. While recognizing the urgent need for adequate national defence, Jaurès laboured so to organize it that it could not be mistaken for nor converted into aggression. He laboured, at the same time, to remove the cause of the danger. In the year 1913, under Swiss auspices, a meeting of French and German pacifists was arranged at Berne. To this meeting there proceeded 167 French deputies and 48 senators. The Baron d'Estournelles de Constant was president of the French bureau, and Jaurès one of the vice-presidents. The result was disappointing. The German participation was small and less influential than the French, and no agreement could be reached on the burning question of Alsace-Lorraine. But the French Socialists continued, up to the eve of the war, to fight for peace with an energy, an intelligence, and a determination shown in no other country. The assassination of Jaurès was a symbol of the assassination of peace; but the assassin was a Frenchman.
For if, in France, the current for peace ran strong in these latter years, so did the current for war. French chauvinism had waxed and waned, but it was never extinguished. After 1870 it centred not only about Alsace-Lorraine, but also about the colonial expansion which took from that date a new lease of life in France, as it had done in England after the loss of the American colonies. Directly encouraged by Bismarck, France annexed Tunis in 1881. The annexation of Tunis led up at last to that of Morocco. Other territory had been seized in the Far East, and France became, next to ourselves, the greatest colonial Power. This policy could not be pursued without friction, and the principal friction at the beginning was with ourselves. Once at least, in the Fashoda crisis, the two countries were on the verge of war, and it was not till the Entente of 1904 that their relations were adjusted on a basis of give-and-take. But by that time Germany had come into the colonial field, and the Entente with England meant new friction with Germany, turning upon French designs in Morocco. In this matter Great Britain supported her ally, and the incident of Agadir in 1911 showed the solidity of the Entente. This demonstration no doubt strengthened the hands of the aggressive elements in France, and later on the influence of M. Delcassé and M. Poincaré was believed in certain quarters to have given new energy to this direction of French policy. This tendency to chauvinism was recognized as a menace to peace, and we find reflections of that feeling in the Belgian dispatches. Thus, for instance, Baron Guillaume, Belgian minister at Paris, writes on February, 21, 1913, of M. Poincaré:—
It is under his Ministry that the military and slightly chauvinistic instincts of the French people have awakened. His hand can be seen in this modification; it is to be hoped that his political intelligence, practical and cool, will save him from all exaggeration in this course. The notable increase of German armaments which supervenes at the moment of M. Poincaré's entrance at the Elysée will increase the danger of a too nationalistic orientation of the policy of France.
Again, on March 3, 1913:—
The German Ambassador said to me on Saturday: "The political situation is much improved in the last forty-eight hours; the tension is generally relaxed; one may hope for a return to peace in the near future. But what does not improve is the state of public opinion in France and Germany with regard to the relations between the two countries. We are persuaded in Germany that a spirit of chauvinism having revived, we have to fear an attack by the Republic. In France they express the same fear with regard to us. The consequence of these misunderstandings is to ruin us both. I do not know where we are going on this perilous route. Will not a man appear of sufficient goodwill and prestige to recall every one to reason? All this is the more ridiculous because, during the crisis we are traversing, the two Governments have given proof of the most pacific sentiments, and have continually relied upon one another to avoid conflicts."
On this Baron Guillaume comments:—
Baron Schoen is perfectly right, I am not in a position to examine German opinion, but I note every day how public opinion in France becomes more suspicious and chauvinistic. One meets people who assure one that a war with Germany in the near future is certain and inevitable. People regret it, but make up their minds to it…. They demand, almost by acclamation, an immediate vote for every means of increasing the defensive power of France. The most reasonable men assert that it is necessary to arm to the teeth to frighten the enemy and prevent war.
On April 16th he reports a conversation with M. Pichon, in which the latter says:—
Among us, too, there is a spirit of chauvinism which is increasing, which I deplore, and against which we ought to react. Half the theatres in Paris now play chauvinistic and nationalistic pieces.
The note of alarm becomes more urgent as the days go on. On January 16, 1914, the Baron writes:—