Germany alone secures her ends, profits by all the disturbances she creates, waxes and grows fat, and William II smiles at the thought of a world-wide kingdom ruled by himself alone. Once master of the whole earth, he may come to stand face to face with God.
September 11, 1898. [10]
On the occasion of a gala dinner at Hanover, William II, always in a hurry to display his likes and everlastingly parading his dislikes, did not fail to seize the opportunity of being polite to England and uncivil to France. He proposed a toast to the health of the 10th Army Corps, recalling to memory the brotherhood of arms between Englishmen and Germans at Waterloo; he glorified the victory of the Sirdar, Kitchener, in the Soudan.
A few days later, speaking of peace, the German Emperor, King of Prussia, let fly his Parthian arrow at his august brother, the Tzar. At Porta, in Westphalia, he said: "Peace can only be obtained by keeping a trained army ready for battle. May God grant that 'e may always be able to work for the maintenance of peace by the use of this good and sharp-edged weapon."
Nothing could have been more bluntly expressed; it is now perfectly clear that the reduction of armaments has no place in the dreams of William II. I know not by what subterfuge he will pretend to approve of a Congress "to prepare for universal peace," but I know that, for him, the dominating and absorbing interest of life lies in conquest, in victories, in war. Turkey victorious, America victorious, England victorious—these are the lights that lead him on. He excels at gathering in the inheritance won for him by his own people, and he likes to have a share also in the successes of others. He has had his share in Turkey and has filed his application in America. He is already beginning with England in China and speculating with Great Britain in Delagoa Bay, under the eyes of his greatly distressed friends of the Transvaal.
Amidst a hundred other schemes, the German Emperor, King of Prussia, is by no means neglecting his apotheosis at Jerusalem. We are told even the details of his clothes, which combine the military with the civil, "An open tunic of light cloth, brown coloured; tight trousers, boots and sword-scabbard of yellow leather, the insignia of a German General of the Guards, a helmet winged with the Prussian eagle." A truly pious rig-out forsooth, in which to go and kneel before the tomb of Christ! They say that, in order to judge of the effect of this costume, William II has posed for his photograph forty times.
The German Church in Palestine certainly never expected to see the summus episcopus adopting an attitude of extreme humility in that country. If any simple-minded Lutheran were to address the Kaiser in the streets of Jerusalem, after the manner of the Hungarian workman, who saw the archbishop primate, all glittering with gold in his gala coach, passing over the Buda bridge, William II would answer him in the same style as did the archbishop: "That is just the sort of carriage in which Jesus used to drive," exclaimed the workman. The archbishop heard him, and leaning from the carriage door, replied: "Jesus, my good fellow, was the son of a carpenter. I am the son of a magnate, and Archbishop Primate of Hungary."
William II undoubtedly believes that he does Christ an honour in going to visit Him. He goes in the full pride of a personality which sees in itself all the great events of the past, gathered together as in an historic procession. He goes, with all the pomp and circumstance of a glorious omnipotence, he, whose diplomacy has made a protégé of the Khalif and a footstool of the Crescent—he goes, I say, to manifest himself as the Emperor of Christianity.
Was all then to be lost to us at a stroke—the Crusades, all the moral and economic interests of France in the East, that secular protectorate of which we, the possessors, make so light whilst William II devotes to its conquest all the resources of his skill and cunning? Not so! Our Minister of Foreign Affairs was on the alert. William XI, who is an artistic walking advertisement, designed, like a Mucha or a Cheret, for the German market, has now had evidence of the fact that, if religion is an article of export for him, anti-clericalism is nothing of the kind for us. Our interests in the East have been protected and preserved. The Pope of Lutheranism has not been able to silence the Pope of Rome. The radical Republic which represents France remains the grand-daughter of Saint Louis. On hearing the authoritative news of William II's journey to Jerusalem, Cardinal Langénieux, Archbishop of Rheims, begged Leo XIII for "a reassuring word." Up to the present, the Holy See has recognised our Protectorate in the East as a simple fact; to-day it is recognised as a right. Here is the "reassuring word," the answer given by Leo XIII to Cardinal Langénieux:—
"We know that for centuries the French nation's protectorate has been established in Eastern Countries and that it has been confirmed by treaties between governments. Therefore no change whatsoever should be made in this matter. This nation's protectorate, wherever it is exercised, should be religiously maintained and missionaries must be notified accordingly, so that, if they have need of help, they may have recourse to the Consuls and other agents of the French nation."