If we consider the above-discussed attempt to “outbuild” the German navy in the light of England’s general policy, we shall see that the former was entirely consistent with all British historical traditions. The German Empire had never done England any harm, it pursued no hostile aims, it had not intrigued against British interests, it had not endeavored to engineer an anti-British coalition. The German Empire had, on the contrary, invariably acted in pure self-defence, whether from a political or from an economic point of view. History has never known a policy more peaceful than that pursued by German statesmen. The German fleet could not possibly, either in its conception or in its development, constitute a danger for Great Britain. None the less Germany was a great Continental Power, her trade and industry flourished, she claimed the right of protecting her national production, she tried to build herself a fleet: therefore must she be destroyed. How monstrous the English lies about the “German danger on the sea” were, is proved—but this is merely en passant—by the fact that in August 1914, after fifteen years’ activity, the German fleet, viewed as a whole, was not even half as strong as the British.
CHAPTER XIII
KING EDWARD’S UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT TO SET THE NEAR EAST ABLAZE
THE BOSNIAN CRISIS
The policy of Great Britain in the Near East has undergone frequent and apparently unaccountable modifications. At times England supported the Sultan, at others she was against him; she would one day preach the doctrine of the sanctity and inviolability of the Dardanelles treaties, and the next day she would herself send a fleet into the Dardanelles. The same Power which was full of enthusiasm for the integrity of the Ottoman Empire would later on, amidst plentiful groans and sighs, steal a piece of that Empire for itself. With a stentorian voice which could be heard over the whole world, the British Government denounced the “atrocities” in Armenia or Macedonia; and at the very same moment emissaries sent out from London, and notably the famous “Balkan Committee,” were busy, in Armenia or Macedonia or elsewhere, stirring up trouble and creating disturbances which caused the very “atrocities” in question to be perpetrated. We see England working hand-in-hand alternately with Russia and with Austria-Hungary. Where is the thread connecting the whole of British policy in the Near East during the last twenty-five years?
Sultan Abdul Hamid was, for British statesmen, the incorporation of everything bad and detestable. They pretended to feel disgusted even when pronouncing his name. He had failed to carry out the reforms which he promised after the Russo-Turkish war; he was an “oppressor,” he allowed “atrocities” to be committed in Armenia and Macedonia. The English even declared, with an expression of unutterable disgust, that Abdul Hamid occasionally caused “undesirable” persons to be done away with. In reality, this intensely virtuous indignation was due chiefly to the knowledge that Abdul Hamid was an extremely clever politician and diplomatist, and to the fact that he would not consent to renounce his claims to Egypt. Abdul Hamid had the most disagreeable habit of raising the Egyptian question from time to time, and precisely at the very moment when it was least convenient for the British Government. He had the further extremely disagreeable habit of keeping up, with the utmost skill, a game of ball between the Great Powers, in which the ball was never definitely caught and always rebounced. The Sultan used to play off the one against the other, and in his able hands Turkey’s chronic “sickness” became a valuable diplomatic asset. England’s aim was, of course, to bring the Turkish Empire entirely under British influence, and then to deal with its various component parts according as circumstances required. The first object of British statesmen was to combat Russia’s efforts to obtain possession of Constantinople and the Dardanelles. In order to attain this object, it was necessary to treat the Porte alternately as a friend and as an adversary. Albeit, mistress of the oceans and of the Mediterranean, Great Britain was, until the conclusion of the Entente Cordiale, seriously uneasy about Russia’s desire to obtain, in conjunction with France, a solution—if need be by force of arms—of the Dardanelles question.
Shortly after the accession of the Emperor William II to the throne, an entirely new factor in the politics of the Near East arose. The first journey of the German Emperor to Constantinople attracted the attention of Europe. This journey was displeasing to Russia, and consequently gave satisfaction to England. The German Government declared that its friendship with Turkey aimed exclusively at the obtention of economic advantages, and that it entertained no political ambitions whatsoever. The first railroad concessions to German companies in Turkey followed, and formed the beginning of the future great Bagdad undertaking. Ever since that first visit of the German Emperor to Constantinople, the friendship between Germany and Turkey has continued almost without interruption. The explanation is to be found in the simple fact that the German Empire is the only Power which did not wish to increase its influence or its possessions at the expense of the sovereignty of the Sultan, of the financial and economic strength of the Ottoman Empire, and of the latter’s territorial integrity.
It is evident that England’s traditional policy in the Near East could not but make her regard the friendly and confidential relations between Germany and Turkey with the greatest dissatisfaction. It was, in the first place, an insult to England that the new Power Germany should venture to enter the ranks of the nations which were interested in Turkey. England was all the more uneasy, because her statesmen clearly recognised that Germany’s policy of maintaining and strengthening Turkey was not a mere pretext, but honest truth. England did not want a strong Turkey, and did not dream of tolerating one. The stronger Turkey became, the less could Egypt be relied on—and the more intimate, also, must become the connection between Constantinople and the Islamitic world. Precisely this connection appeared to England, who rules over so many millions of Mussulmans, as a grave danger for her in India, Central Asia, and Africa. And we know that British statesmen are extraordinarily far-sighted in all matters where danger of any sort is to be detected.
In addition to all this there remained the main source, as usual, of British anxiety: the market. It was disgraceful and unheard-of, an insult and an unfriendly act, that German industry should dare to penetrate ever more and more into the Ottoman Empire. British industry had already a hard struggle to maintain itself here against the French and the Austro-Hungarians. And now the Germans came on the scene! England’s uneasiness was increased by the projected German railroads; and ever since the beginning of the new century she did all she could during ten years, in conjunction with France and Russia, to hinder the construction of the Bagdad line. The Germans encountered here a fundamental principle of British policy; and all such principles, as we have often shown, have their roots in British trade. England has invariably been the most decided adversary of all great railroad undertakings—in so far as they were not in British hands or under British control. British statesmen have always been well aware of the fact that every important railroad which is withdrawn from British control, diminishes British sea power and British maritime trade. The mistress of the seas controlled all the waterways of the world, which she could shut or open as she pleased. The “world’s carrier” had at her disposal a trading fleet vastly superior to all others, an immense quantity of harbors owned by herself, to say nothing of all the other harbors in the whole world. Through these harbors British goods find their way into the markets all over the globe; each one of such harbors constitutes a basis for the conquest of new markets. As far as railroads were of use in assisting British goods to conquer the markets, they were naturally welcomed by Great Britain as instruments of civilisation and progress, and as preparing the way for international fraternity. But whenever it so happened that a railroad did not start from a harbor—that is to say whenever it served to open up directly a Continental market for a Continental State—British indignation knew no bounds; for money was now being earned, and the English had no share in the profits. Thus was England deeply incensed by the construction of the Siberian railroad, and still more so by the prolongation of the latter through Manchuria to Port Arthur. As for the German plan of a Bagdad railroad, i. e. of a line connecting Constantinople (or, if you will, Berlin) with the Persian Gulf, it was in the eyes of the English a direct challenge. It was also an unheard-of insolence, and an “unfriendly act” on the part of the German Government.
The time-honored antagonism of England and Russia in the Near East was bridged over by the Triple Entente. The latter had more than one basis. On the one hand, there was England’s hatred, and the coalition which that hatred had forged against Germany; on the other hand, there was Russia’s detestation of Austria, and her traditional need of expansion towards Constantinople and the Dardanelles. In addition to these factors there came the doctrine of Panslavism, and this doctrine proved a most useful auxiliary of the above-mentioned “expansive tendencies” of the Russian Government; last but not least came the “guardianship” of all the Balkan peoples, which Russia regarded as a part of her historical mission. British policy had succeeded in checking Russia by means of the Japanese War, and of the conventions concerning Persia and Central Asia; with rare skill had England then managed to concentrate the entire expansive activity of Russia in the Near East. England was here in need of the Russian army. Russia, whom we may well call, as far as Oriental politics are concerned, the hereditary enemy of England, was now employed by the London Cabinet as a battering-ram against Germany and Austria-Hungary.
During many years Russia and Austria-Hungary had maintained a compromise in the Balkans, whereby the solution of the thorny questions at issue was postponed. The same remark applies to the relations between Austria-Hungary and Italy. The latter country’s interest in the Balkans had up till now been limited, albeit France, after her reconciliation with Italy, steadily endeavored to distract Italy’s attention from Tripoli and Tunis, and to turn it towards Albania. On the other hand, the marriage of the King of Italy with a Montenegrin Princess had ipso facto drawn Italy and Russia nearer each other, for the princely House of Montenegro is connected by marriage with the Russian imperial Family. The ancient quarrels between Vienna and Rome, and especially the ever-present hatred of the Irredentists, furnished England likewise with admirable instruments for her “policy of sowing dissension.” Finally did Turkey herself become an aim—and an important aim—of Italian policy.
The center-points of the Young Turk movement, of the political importance of which Germany took no notice until a very late period, and which she probably underestimated up till the last minute—the center-points of this movement were in Paris and London. The Young Turks received in these cities their political education, and to a large extent also the resources necessary for their propaganda. The latter had as its object the introduction of more liberal conditions into the Turkish Empire. A conditio sine qua non of this introduction was the putting aside of Abdul Hamid. England had always intensely hated Abdul Hamid, especially since he had become a friend of the German Emperor. The London Cabinet was of opinion that the cordial relations between Germany and Turkey were due exclusively to Abdul Hamid, and that the personal friendship between the two Sovereigns had alone rendered possible the railroad and other concessions to Germany. The aim of British policy was, consequently, to get rid of Abdul Hamid as soon as possible. The Balkan Committee and other British emissaries set about stirring up dissatisfaction in the Turkish Empire against him, wherever it was possible to do so; no expenditure was too great for them; it must be admitted that, in such cases, England and her agents are never “stingy” as regards money.