What was to be done with this new state, foster child of all Europe, with indefinite boundaries, with guardians each jealous of the other, and neighbours waiting only for a favourable moment to throw themselves upon her and extinguish her life?
I visited Albania in July, 1913, during the second Balkan War. At Valona, in the south, I found a provisional government, self-constituted during the previous winter, whose authority was problematical outside of Valona itself. At the head of the government was Ismail Kemal, whom I had known as the champion of Albanian autonomy in the Ottoman Parliament at Constantinople. He talked passionately of Albania, the new State in Europe, with its united population and its national aspirations. He was eager to have the claims of Albania to a generous southern frontier presented at London. He assured me that I could write with perfect confidence in glowing terms concerning the future of Albania, that a spirit of harmony reigned throughout the country, and that the Albanians of all creeds, freed from Turkish oppression, were looking eagerly to their new life as an independent nation. When I expressed misgivings as to the rôle of Essad pasha, the provisional president asserted that the former commander of Scutari was wholly in accord with him, and cited as proof the fact that he had that very day received from Essad pasha his acceptance of the portfolio of Minister of the Interior.
But that indefinable feeling of misgiving, which one always has over the enthusiasm of Orientals, caused me to withhold judgment as to the liability of Albania until I had seen how things were going in other portions of the new kingdom.
At Durazzo, the northern port of Albania, the friends of Essad pasha were in control of the government. Things were still being done à la turque, and there was a feeling of great uncertainty concerning the future. Few had any faith whatever in the provisional government at Valona, and it was declared that the influence of Essad pasha would decide the attitude of the Albanians in Durazzo, Tirana, and Elbassan. Essad was chief of the Toptanis, the most influential family in the neighbourhood of Durazzo. He had "made his career" in the gendarmerie, and had risen rapidly through the approval and admiration of Abdul Hamid. This is an indication of his character. He was credited with the ambition of ruling Albania. To withdraw his forces and his munitions of war intact, so that he could press these claims, is the only explanation of his "deal" with King Nicholas of Montenegro to surrender Scutari. Essad had sacrificed the pride and honour of Albania to his personal ambition.
From Durazzo, I went to San Giovanni di Medua, which was occupied by the Montenegrins, just as I had found Santi Quaranta in the south occupied by the Greeks. Going inland from this port (one must use his imagination in calling San Giovanni di Medua a port) by way of Alessio, I reached Scutari, from whose citadel flew the flags of the Powers. In every quarter of this typically and hopelessly Turkish town, one ran across sailors from various nations. Each Power had its quarter, and had named the streets with some curious results. The Via Garibaldi ran into the Platz Radetzky. On the Catholic cathedral was a sign informing you that you were in the Rue Ernest Renan.
This accidental naming of streets was a prophecy of the hopelessness of trying to reconcile the conflicting aims and ideals of the Powers whose bands were playing side by side in the public garden. In the dining-room of the hotel, when I saw Austrians, Italians, Germans, British, and French officers eating together at the long tables, instead of rejoicing at this seeming spirit of European harmony, I had the presentiment of the inevitable result of the struggle between Slav and Teuton, to prevent which these men were there. Just a year later, I stood in front of the Gare du Montparnasse in Paris reading the order for General Mobilization. There came back to me as in a dream the public garden at Scutari, and the mingled strains of national anthems, with officers standing rigidly in salute beside their half-filled glasses.
In the palatial home of a British nobleman who had loved the Albanians and had lived long in Scutari, Admiral Burney established his headquarters. I talked with him there one afternoon concerning the present and the future of Albania, and the relationship of the problem which he had before him with the peace of Europe. Never have I found a man more intelligently apprehensive of the possible outcome of the drama in which he was playing a part, and at the same time more determinedly hopeful to use all his ability and power to save the peace of Europe by welding together the Albanians into a nation worthy of the independence that has been given to them by the European concert. Such men as Admiral Burney are more than the glory of a nation: they are the making of a nation. The greatness of Britain is due to the men who serve her. High ideals, self-sacrifice, ability, and energy are the corner-stones of the British overseas Empire.
There was little, however, that Admiral Burney, or anyone in fact, could do for Albania. No nation can exist in modern times, when national life is in the will of the people rather than in the unifying qualities of a ruler, if there are no common ideals and the determination to attain them. Albania is without a national spirit and a national past. It is, therefore, no unit, capable of being welded into a state. The creation by the Ambassadors of the Powers in London may have been thought by them to be a necessity. But it was really a makeshift. If the Albanians had done their part, and had shown the possibility of union, the makeshift might have developed into a new European state. As things have turned out, it has stayed what it was in the beginning,—a fiasco.
Among the many candidates put forward for the new throne, Prince William of Wied was finally decided upon. He was a Protestant, and could occupy a position of neutrality among his Moslem, Orthodox, and Catholic subjects. He was a German, and could not be suspected of Slavic sympathies. He was a relative of the King of Rumania, and could expect powerful support in the councils of the Balkan Powers.