This last fact deserves a few words of explanation. Some enemies of M. Faure had spread the gossip that his St. Petersburg laurels had not been sufficient for his inordinate vanity, and that as, in spite of all his conversations with Nicholas II. he had not succeeded in inducing the latter to consent to the adoption by Russia of an aggressive policy against Germany, he had tried to bring about some kind of arrangement with the German Emperor, and to persuade him to grant autonomy to Alsace and Lorraine. He knew that such a measure would have largely satisfied a certain section of public opinion in France. Serious politicians, however, knew very well that it was useless to hope that Germany would return without another war, and perhaps not even then, the provinces she had conquered at the cost of such stupendous sacrifices.
Whether M. Félix Faure ever nursed such a dream, it is difficult to say, but it was attributed to him, and for an excitable people like the French such a rumour was sufficient to set the tide against the President. Had he at that juncture pardoned Captain Dreyfus the outcry would have been immense, and the word traitor would undoubtedly have been applied to him. He knew it well, and perhaps this made him keep more aloof than he ought to have done from the net of intrigues which surrounded the tragedy of the Hebrew officer who was to draw on his person the attention of the whole world. But it is also to be regretted, perhaps, that the President found himself with his hands tied on this memorable occasion, and that in his dread of losing his position he forgot his constitutional prerogatives.
CHAPTER XXV
The French Press
In the visit of Nicholas II. to Paris the press played a considerable part. Indeed in no country of the world do newspapers wield such an influence as they do in France, where the bourgeois, the workman, and the peasant believe implicitly in what the papers say, especially if his particular news-sheet has the chauvinistic opinions which he himself espouses. It would hardly have been possible to organise the magnificent reception which was awarded to the Emperor of Russia, if newspapers of all shades had not contributed to it their long articles written in praise of the future visitor and in general of the Russian nation and the Russian army. These were material factors in securing the popular demonstration that took place. Thanks to them the Russian loans were covered several times over, and Russian policy, be it in the East or elsewhere, was warmly supported by the powers that ruled at the Quai d’Orsay.
The Minister for Foreign Affairs at that time was M. Gabriel Hanotaux, himself a writer of no mean talent, and a journalist in his spare moments. A few years later he was to be elected to the Academy for his fine work on the life of Cardinal Richelieu. M. Hanotaux was an excessively shrewd man, and moreover one who had a vast knowledge of the world; he understood better than anyone else the use to which the press, and especially the daily press, can be put. He organised a special service which kept the whole of France informed as to the doings and sayings of the Russian Sovereigns, and was clever enough to give a spontaneous character to the vast manifestation of sympathy which threw France into the arms of Russia.
I don’t remember now who said, very wittily one must admit, that “each country and each epoch has the press which it deserves.” That phrase is far from being the paradox it seems, because it is an undeniable fact, and particularly so in France, that though the press leads public opinion, yet it is public opinion which leads the press into the road where its instincts—political or financial—tell it to go. And in the last twenty-five years the French, and especially the Parisian, press has undergone a total transformation. It is no longer what it was in the time of the Second Empire, when the restraining hand of the government was always more or less over its head. At present independence reigns among the papers that rule the boulevards, though this does not prevent the principal among them from accepting the inspirations which come either from the Quai d’Orsay or from the Place Beauveau. In the latter place, journalists had a good time of it during the few months when M. Clemenceau, the most brilliant among them, reigned as its master, and did not disdain to communicate to the press his views and his opinions on one or other of the questions of the day. The Matin, the Journal, the Débats, and especially the Temps, like to entertain their readers in an atmosphere favourable to the ministry which happens to be in power. The last-named paper has upon its staff men of the rarest literary merit, among others M. Tardieu, who writes the leaders on foreign affairs and of whom Prince von Bülow once said jokingly that there “existed in Europe three great Powers and—M. Tardieu.”
That opinion had been endorsed long before it was uttered by M. Adrien Hébrard, the greatest journalist that France can boast, and of whom she can justly be proud. M. Hébrard, if he had only wished it, might have become an important political personage, a minister, a member of the French Academy, but to all these glories he preferred the editorship of the Temps.
The paper is Republican in its opinions, with sometimes a leaning towards Radicalism, and stronger leanings still towards anti-Clericalism. At the same time, it has constantly displayed coolness in its judgments, and has always abstained from exaggerations either in one sense or the other. It has never failed in courtesy towards its antagonists, and has made itself respected, even when it has caused itself to be disliked. Everyone in political or social circles reads it with interest, and very often the news which it gives en dernière heure, as it is called, has a European importance, and is cabled all over the world. Its chronicles also are something more than those of other papers, and its dramatic weekly letter decides the success or failure of every new theatrical piece which sees the footlights of the principal Paris theatres.
Another serious paper, whose importance is almost as great as that of the Temps, is the old Journal des Débats, which is considered the organ of the Academy, and which certainly has always the last word to say concerning its elections.
In the Débats correct polished French is always to be found. It is grave, pompous, essentially bourgeois in its opinions, and is not read by the multitude.