Czernin.

As a matter of fact, Tisza in this instance allowed himself to be quite converted, and raised no objections as to the Hungarian Social Democrats. The negative result of the Stockholm Congress is known.

As already mentioned, it is at present still impossible to discuss in detail the various negotiations and attempts at peace. Besides the negotiations between Revertera and Armand, other tentative efforts were made. For instance, the interviews already alluded to between the Ambassador Mennsdorff and General Smuts, which were referred to in the English Parliament. I do not consider it right to say more about the matter here. But I can and will repeat the point of view which was at the bottom of all our peace efforts since the summer of 1917, and which finally wrecked them all.

The last report cited reflected the views of the Entente quite correctly. With Germany there was at present no possibility of intercourse. France insisted on the restoration of Alsace-Lorraine, and the entire Entente demanded the abolition of German militarism. Neither would Germany be allowed to retain her colonies. But Germany was not yet "ripe" for this demand to be made. In the opinion of the Entente, therefore, any debate on the subject would be useless. For us the case was different. The impression prevailed that we could conclude a separate peace providing we were ready to make sacrifices. The London terms had created a situation which must be accepted. Concessions to Roumania, the cession of Trieste and the Trentino, as well as the German South Tyrol, to Italy, and concessions to the Southern Slav state would be unavoidable, besides reforms in the Monarchy on a federal basis. Our answer was that a one-sided concession of Austro-Hungarian and German territory in that form was, naturally, not possible. But still we thought that, under certain premises in the territorial questions, an agreement might perhaps not meet with insurmountable difficulties. As a matter of course, however, the Entente were not in a position to make terms such as could only be laid down by the victor to the vanquished, as we were anything but beaten, but, in spite of that, we did not cling so firmly to the frontier posts in the Monarchy.

It might be thought, therefore, that, the Entente being willing, a settlement of the various interests would be possible; but proposals such as the giving up of Trieste, Bozen, and Meran were impossible, as was also the suggestion to make peace behind Germany's back. I referred to the military situation and the impossibility of anyone accepting these views of the Entente. I was full of confidence in the future, and even if that were not the case I could not conclude a peace in the present situation which the Entente could not dictate in other terms, even if we were beaten. To lose Trieste and access to the Adriatic was a totally unacceptable condition, just as much as the unconditional surrender of Alsace-Lorraine.

Neutral statesmen agreed with my views that the Entente demands were not couched in the terms of a peace of understanding, but of victory. Opinion in neutral countries was quite clear on the subject. But in England especially there were various currents of thought; not everyone shared Lloyd George's views. The main point was, however, to lead up to a debate which would tend to clear up many matters, and I seized the idea eagerly. The greatest difficulty, I was assured by some, lay in the Entente's assertion that Germany had shown remarkable military strength, but yet had not been adequately prepared for war; she had not had sufficient stores either of raw materials or provisions, and had not built sufficient U-boats. The Entente's idea was that if peace were made now, Germany might perhaps accept even unfavourable conditions, but it would only be to gain time and make use of the peace to draw breath before beginning a fresh war. She would make up for loss of time and "hit out again." The Entente, therefore, considered the preliminary condition of any peace, or even of a discussion of terms, to be the certainty of the abolition of German militarism. I replied that nobody wished for more war, and that I agreed with the Entente that a guarantee in that connection must be secured, but that a one-sided disarmament and disbanding of men by Austria-Hungary and Germany was an impossibility. It might be imagined what it would be like if one fine day an army, far advanced in the enemy country, full of confidence and hope and certain of victory, had to lay down arms and disappear. No one could accept such a proposal. Meanwhile, a general disarmament of all the Powers was both possible and necessary. Disarmament, the establishment of courts of arbitration under international control: that, according to my idea, would present an acceptable basis. I mentioned my fears that the Entente rulers in this, as in the territorial question, would not mete out the same measure to themselves as they intended for us, and unless I had some guarantee in the matter I should not be in a position to carry the plan through here and with our Allies; anyhow, it would be worth a trial.

Long and frequent were the debates on the Central European question, which was the Entente's terror, as it implied an unlimited increase in Germany's power. In Paris and London it would presumably be preferred that the Monarchy should be made independent of Germany, and any further advances to Berlin on the part of Vienna checked. We rejoined that to us this was not a new Entente standpoint, but that the mutilation caused by the resolutions of the Pact of London forced us to investigate the matter. Apart from the question of honour and duty to the Alliance, as matters now stood, Germany was fighting almost more for us than for herself. If Germany to-day, and we knew it, concluded peace, she would lose Alsace-Lorraine and her military superiority on land; but we, with our territory, would have to pay the Italians, Serbians, and Roumanians for their part in the war.

I heard it said on many sides that there were men in the Entente who readily understood this point of view, but that the Entente nations would do what they had intended. Italy had based her entry into the war on promises from London. Roumania also had been given very solid assurances, and heroic Serbia must be compensated by Bosnia and Herzegovina. Many, both in Paris and London, regretted the situation that had arisen through the conference in London, but a treaty is a treaty, and neither London nor Paris could forsake their Allies. Meanwhile, it was thought likely in Entente circles that both the new Serbian and Polish states, probably Roumania as well, would have certain relations with the Monarchy. Further details respecting such relations were still unknown. Our reply was: we would not give up Galicia to Poland, Transylvania and the Bukovina to Roumania, and Bosnia together with Herzegovina to Serbia, in return for a vague promise of the closer relations of those states with the pitiful remains left to us of the Monarchy. We were not impelled thereto by dynastic interests. I myself had persuaded the Emperor to sacrifice Galicia to Poland; but in Transylvania there lived so many Germans and Magyars who simply could not be made a present of, and above all the concessions, to Italy! I once asked a neutral statesman if he could understand what was meant by making Austria voluntarily give up the arch-German Tyrol as far as the Brenner Pass. The storm that would be let loose by such a peace would uproot more than merely the Minister who had made the peace. I told my visitor that there were certain sacrifices which on no conditions could be expected of any living being. I would not give up German Tyrol, not even though we were still more unfavourably situated. I reminded him of a picture that represented wolves chasing a sledge. One by one the driver threw out fur, coat, and whatever else he had to the pack to check them and save himself—but he could not throw his own child to them: rather would he suffer to the last gasp. That was how I felt about Trieste and the German Tyrol. We were not in the position of the man in the sledge, for, thank God, we had our arms and could beat off the wolves; but even in the extremest emergency, never would I accept a peace that deprived us of Bozen and Meran.

My listener did not disagree with my argument, but could see no end to the war in that way. England was ready to carry on the war for another ten years and, in any case, would crush Germany. Not the German people, for whom no hatred was felt—always the same repetition of that deceptive argument—but German militarism. England was in a condition of constraint. Repeatedly it had been said that if Germany were not defeated in this war she would continue with still more extensive armaments. That was the firm belief in London; she would then, in a few years, have not 100, but 1,000, U-boats, and then England would be lost. Then England was also fighting for her own existence, and her will was iron. She knew the task would be a hard one, but it would not crush her. In London they cite again the example of the wars of Napoleon, and conclude with: "What man has done man can do again."

This fear of Prussian militarism was noticeable on all occasions, and the suggestion constantly was put forward that if we were to declare ourselves satisfied with a general disarmament, that in itself would be a great advantage and an important step towards peace.