The Vampire of the Continent

by Graf E. Reventlow

CHAPTER XIV
THE CATASTROPHE IS MORE CAREFULLY PREPARED
1909–1914

The good Germans breathed more freely, and rejoiced at the political détente. Their astonishment was all the greater when, at the end of 1908 and the beginning of 1909, a terrible cry arose at the other side of the North Sea about an appalling “German peril.” It was stated that the fleet of German Dreadnoughts was in a fair way to out-rivalling that of Great Britain. The cunning tricks of the German Government, and especially of Admiral von Tirpitz, had succeeded in secretly hastening the construction of the German navy. We have already mentioned, in a previous chapter, how skilfully the British Government made use of these lies for the purpose of hoodwinking the Colonies and the United States. The whole story was a falsehood from beginning to end, for there could be no question of the construction of the German fleet being “secretly hastened”; and the British Government knew this perfectly well. The German Government furnished, through its diplomatic representatives and also publicly through the press, more than enough explanations showing that the pretended English reckonings about the number of German battleships were wholly wrong. In the same “year of panic,” 1908–09, a conference of the leading maritime nations was held in London, at the invitation of the British Government. The result of this Conference was the publication of the “London Declaration concerning Maritime Law,” which was subsequently so much commented upon. Its origin was as follows: During the Conference at The Hague in 1907, the leading maritime nations had declared themselves in agreement with the German proposal to institute a permanent international Court of Prizes. It was intended to convert the latter, in future maritime wars, into a Court of Appeal which should be above all the national Prize Courts. But there was no international law corresponding to the proposed international institution. It was the task of the London Conference to create this international law, and it did so in the form of the London Declaration above mentioned. The avowed object of the latter was to draw up provisions for the protection of neutral shipping in time of war. And, as a matter of fact, the contents of the Declaration were such as to furnish, if not a perfect, at all events a very acceptable basis on which the safety and the rights of neutral shipping could be guaranteed. The British Government instructed its delegates to sign the Declaration, just as in 1907 they had signed the Hague Convention concerning the International Prize Court. But no ratification of either agreement ever took place. The British Government, albeit pretending that it was in favor of the ratification, engineered behind the scenes a violent agitation against the London Declaration, and against the establishment of an International Court of Prizes. This agitation lasted several years. The agitators told the credulous and trembling islanders that the whole thing was just simply a base German intrigue. The German Government had succeeded, according to them, in outwitting harmless British statesmen and naval officers in The Hague and in London. The International Court of Prizes and the London Declaration signified nothing else but “Sea Law made in Germany”; it was intended, in the case of an Anglo-German war, to deprive England of all the means which she possessed for defending her own maritime trade, and to prevent her applying in future those time-honored methods which, in the wars of former centuries, had produced such brilliant results. The British nation was naturally most indignant at this unheard-of German infamy; and the consequence was that the House of Lords, by rejecting a Bill which provided that the existing British Prize Law should be modified, frustrated the ratification of the Hague Convention and also of the London Declaration. When war broke out in 1914 the Declaration did not, therefore, possess international validity; but simple-minded persons in Germany and in the neutral countries firmly believed that England would act according to the provisions of the Declaration, since the latter was the fruit of an unanimous agreement among all the maritime nations which took part in the Conference.

Ever since 1909, it is true, British admirals and statesmen had calmly and coldly proclaimed that it was quite immaterial whether the Declaration were ratified or not, for the moment war broke out “it would be torn into rags and thrown into the sea.” The history of the war up to date has proved that the British admirals were well informed. It is true that the rank of an admiral would not have been necessary for that; for it is an old habit of British Governments to announce in the most pathetical tone of voice their readiness to enter into negotiations, and to sign conventions, of this sort. England was always enthusiastic about right and justice in maritime warfare—provided she could by these means bind the hands of other nations without committing herself to anything. We have already shown, in a previous chapter, that England pretended at first to accept the standpoint of the Armed Neutrality League in 1780, and that she afterwards rejected all the desiderata of the League with a sneer. In 1856, in the celebrated Declaration of Paris, Great Britain accepted certain principles to which British naval commanders had not paid the slightest attention during the Crimean War a year or two earlier. The British Admiralty renounced, on the same occasion, its claim to the right of capture—for the times, and the modified conditions of warfare, made it appear unsuitable to raise such a claim. But the Declaration of Paris has never been ratified either, and the British Government did not hesitate for one minute, after war had broken out in 1914, in “tearing it into rags and throwing it into the sea.” Notably were the provisions regarding the freedom of cargoes under neutral flag, and those regarding the right of blockade, trampled under foot.

“International Maritime Law”: for the pirates who rule the seas, these words have never meant anything else than unlimited freedom for themselves. The English were always glad to see other nations bind themselves hand and foot; with sincere satisfaction did they watch the spectacle of the European nations listening with pious credulity to English speeches about international civilisation and the protection of neutral countries; and when learned professors wrote ponderous volumes on the subject of “the progress and development of maritime law in time of war,” the Islanders chuckled with delight. The stupidity of the Continental nations has been as incurable in this case, as in all other cases where the question of the relations between the sacred Island and its European victims has arisen. Great Britain has always been a friend of international parleys, for they have invariably proved a useful instrument for her. At the moment when the Hague Conference of 1907 was being prepared, the British Government endeavored to have a discussion on “the reduction of armaments” inserted in the programme. The object was a double one: firstly, to prevent by means of an international agreement the German fleet from becoming inconveniently strong; secondly, to permit in this way of the British navy maintaining its (at that time crushing) superiority with the least possible expense. King Edward knew that he would have his European coalition unanimously on the side of England. Had the German Government not accepted the decision of the Conference, the German Empire would have been, of course, stamped as the unscrupulous and dangerous disturber of the world’s peace. Prince Bülow saw the trap that was being laid, and declared beforehand that Germany would take no part in a debate of this kind. Thus the cunning plan failed, and the British Premier, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, denied indignantly that the London Cabinet had ever intended setting a trap at all. During the following years, British Ministers often attempted to raise the question of a limitation of armaments, and to induce Germany to fall in with their wishes—sometimes by flattery, sometimes by veiled menaces.

The period under review was, in fact, characterised as a whole by England’s efforts to check the growth of the German navy by means different to those hitherto adopted. The aim remained the same: namely, to weaken and intimidate Germany. “First humiliate, then destroy”: this continued to be the motto. There were many Germans, and amongst them several political men, who did not understand this, who believed in the possibility of Anglo-German friendship, and who understood not the lessons taught by the history of Great Britain. It was about 1909 that the beautiful phrase came into fashion, which we used to hear right up till the outbreak of war: namely, that “Great Britain must and will recognise us as possessing equal rights with herself in Europe and in the whole world.” Then, it was declared, the peace of the world would be definitely assured, and the German and the British merchant would work peacefully together; the two nations, related to each other by ties of blood, would henceforth march together along the path of progress towards the conquest of international solidarity. The English even hinted that, in this rosy future, the customs duties would also be suppressed, for they were a hindrance to the intimacy of the two nations. The enormous expenditure on armaments would be reduced to a minimum, and the gigantic sums thus saved would be employed in order to develop the peaceful work of civilisation, instead of being sacrificed to the naval Moloch. He who refused to believe in this message of great joy was denounced, between 1910 and 1914, as a narrow-minded jingo who, in opposition to the will of “the immense majority of the German people,” desired to bring about a war between the two “cousins.” It was a period which we to-day recall to mind without any pride—a period of self-deception and dangerous illusions on the part of a very large section of the German public. This self-deception was due, in the first place, to the German habit of believing that which it is agreeable to believe; and, in the second place, to a curious misconception concerning the character of the British and the essence of their Empire. When has England, in the whole course of her history, ever recognised a strong and prosperous European maritime nation as possessing equal rights with herself? Never! But, it was argued in Germany, that was in the old times of violence and darkness. Those times were now gone; and England now knew as well as, if not better than, any other nation, that the blessings of peace were much superior even to the advantages reaped from a victorious war. In addition to this, Germany was England’s best client, and the British merchant was far too businesslike to wish to lose such a client by weakening or destroying him. Then we must not forget the international ties which bind the modern nations so closely to each other. And finally—pièce de résistance—the “common ideals of humanity”! Who could forget them? A few months before war broke out, the German Ambassador in London, Prince Lichnowsky, publicly declared that “nations” and “national ideals” were but stepping-stones leading up to the ultimate ideal of “humanity.” So intimately was this diplomatist then convinced of the existence of Anglo-German harmony!

During the last 350 years England has never changed her political and economic aims and methods. Neither the British Empire nor the British nation can be understood unless we know their history. The statesman or diplomatist who does not know or does not understand this history, cannot perceive and cannot understand the unchangeable aim which British policy unswervingly pursues. He must, therefore, infallibly be led astray.

The last alarm was given by the Morocco crisis of 1911. The fundamental reasons underlying this crisis have been, in general, misunderstood in Germany. It is necessary, therefore, that we should briefly dwell on them here. The motive which prompted the German Government to send the Panther to Agadir was not the inauguration of a new Moroccan policy, but simply the liquidation of the old one. Favored by mistakes previously committed by Germany, French expansion in Morocco could no longer be checked by an appeal to existing treaties; the German Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Herr von Kiderlen-Waechter, feared that Germany would one day find herself in a position in which she could no longer claim anything; he therefore decided to have the Panther sent to Agadir in order to compel France to enter into a discussion with the German Government. The latter—we must insist on the fact—intended from the beginning to leave Morocco entirely to France, but desired compensations. As to whether the Agadir demonstration was a well-chosen one, or as to whether the Franco-German negotiations were always conducted as they should have been, this is another question, which we cannot discuss here. However that may be, France proved willing to enter into a discussion; and the negotiations would in all probability have been satisfactorily concluded within a very short time, if England had not suddenly interfered. On the 1st of July, 1911, the Panther appeared in front of Agadir. On July 21st the English Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Lloyd-George, made, after a Cabinet Council had previously been held, a speech at the Mansion House in London. The most important passage of the speech, which was written, was as follows:—

“The potent influence (of England) has many a time been in the past, and may yet be in the future, invaluable to the cause of human liberty. It has more than once in the past redeemed continental nations—who are sometimes too apt to forget that service—from overwhelming disaster and even from national extinction. I would make great sacrifices to preserve peace, I conceive that nothing would justify a disturbance of international goodwill except questions of the gravest national moment. But if a situation were to be forced upon us in which peace would only be preserved by the surrender of the great and beneficent position Britain has won by centuries of heroism and achievement, by allowing Britain to be treated where her interests are vitally affected as if she were of no account in the Cabinet of nations, then I say emphatically that peace at that price would be a humiliation intolerable for a great country like ours to endure.”

Four years separate us from the time when these words were spoken, and we can now judge them with impartiality. The speech, made by Mr. Lloyd-George on behalf of his colleagues in the Cabinet, shows us with unusual clearness the British conception of the part played by England in the history of Europe. We have tried, in the course of this book, to give the reader a bird’s-eye view of some centuries of that history; England, without one single exception, has been found to be the Vampire of Europe. Her economic policy, her political policy, her wars, have invariably had but a single aim: to drain the riches and the life-blood of the Continental nations. In order to do this, she has systematically stirred them up against each other.—But Mr. Lloyd-George, with true English impertinence, speaks about the “invaluable services” rendered by Great Britain to the cause of Continental freedom; he even dares to talk to Europe about “centuries of heroism and achievement,” when the sole object of his country has always been piracy and theft under every conceivable form.

The negotiations between France and Germany in 1911 did not concern England in the least, for they did not touch upon anything belonging to her. Their object was Morocco, which England had long since conceded to France, and also French colonies in Africa. The British statesmen knew perfectly well, however much they may have denied it, that Germany did not intend acquiring anything in Morocco. They knew just as well that Germany only desired to put an end, once and for all, to the friction between herself and France arising from out of the Morocco question. But this was precisely what England could not tolerate. For that reason the passions of the French people were kindled, during the negotiations, by the most idiotic lies manufactured in London. For that reason England interfered with the negotiations, and screamed about the German Empire intending to attack France. All other pretexts and phrases were so many lies, or attempts to conceal the truth. The Moroccan question in itself had only fifth-rate importance for England. But that the two great Continental nations should negotiate together without England, or conclude a treaty without the latter’s authorisation: this is what was incompatible with England’s century-old traditions. Therefore did British statesmen decide to intervene rapidly and resolutely; and, as is usual in such cases, to utter threats of war. French newspapers in English pay denounced imaginary acts of treason; and the Premier, M. Joseph Caillaux, who was inclined to draw up with Germany an Agreement satisfactory to both parties, was got rid of. The lies spread regarding all sorts of German designs on Morocco and on France, were of English origin. The London Cabinet feared that the great European coalition against Germany might be broken up by a Franco-German understanding. The latter had consequently to be prevented at all costs, and this result was obtained.