St. Petersburg
XXX—RUSSIA LOSES HER PRESTIGE.
When, in February, 1904, the world was startled by the Japanese guns in the harbor of Chemulpo (Korea), one of Russia's well-known diplomats, speaking in defense of his country, said: "Ours has been a peaceful absorption." Another statesman, pleading for sympathy, remarked pathetically: "We were unprepared for war." The two advocates of Russia's cause spoke the truth, but they did not proclaim the whole truth.
Ever since Muravieff Amoorsky began the peaceful absorption of Manchuria by seizing the coastline of that province, Russia has extended her dominions using no other weapon than her prestige, that is, the dread inspired by her name, power, and resources. Repeated protests from Great Britain remained unheeded, because the czar's government was convinced that they would not be emphasized by a resort to arms. The semi-civilized tribes of Central Asia were unable, of course, to oppose the Russian advance; and China was justly afraid of defying the great northern power. Thus the peaceful absorption continued with such ease that the Russian tchinovnik ended in believing in their country's prestige. Herein lies the principal cause of the astounding history of the war with Japan.
Although Russia repeatedly agreed to evacuate Manchuria, her actions in the construction of railways and other roads, the opening of mines, the enormous capital expended in creating a commercial emporium in Dalny, and her jealousy in excluding foreigners from that territory,—all this was ample evidence that nothing short of compulsion would cause her to withdraw. Besides, Alexander Pavloff, the Russian Minister in Korea, was anxious to emulate Count Cassini, his former chief at Peking. He was constantly plotting to secure a foothold in the Peninsula. In 1903, it was announced that a Russian company had obtained a timber concession on the Yalu River. A few months afterwards, some American newspaper correspondents with the Japanese army discovered the ruins of a Russian fort on that river, securely screened from indiscreet eyes, but in a fine position to control the passage. That was the timber concession.
Russia's policy, therefore, was a serious menace to Japan. But Japan did not purpose to draw ridicule by unavailing protests. Feverishly the preparations for more emphatic action were continued; in the latter part of 1903, Japan was ready. Safe from a possible European intervention by her treaty with Great Britain, Japan reminded Russia of her promise to evacuate Manchuria on October 7, and requested an explanation for not keeping the pledge. Russia, with a blind faith in her prestige, replied that the affair did not concern Japan but China, whereupon Japan made a proposition concerning Manchuria and Korea which would be acceptable. With studied contempt replies from the czar were held back beyond the time permitted by international courtesy. Moreover their tenor was not only unsatisfactory, but was also calculated to exasperate the proud Japanese. When the final preparations were made, Japan instructed her minister to St. Petersburg, to demand his passports,—an act equivalent to a declaration of war.
The tchinovnik doubted their senses. Russia maintained that a severance of diplomatic relations did not necessarily imply an appeal to the sword, when the news flashed over the wires that the Russian war vessels Varyag and Koreyetz had been blown up at Chemulpo to escape being captured. The world was still marveling at Japan's audacity when it was informed that three other Russian war vessels had been disabled owing to a night torpedo attack under Admiral Togo.
Why was the Russian fleet, numerically superior to that of Japan, divided? The answer is found in that fatal word: prestige. Pavloff in Korea had requested the presence of the two doomed ships, to keep the Japanese in awe. Admiral Stark lay under the guns of impregnable Port Arthur, trusting to the prestige, when the illusion vanished. There was still the Vladivostok squadron; it made an effort to induce Togo to leave Port Arthur by making a raid upon the north coast of Japan, but in vain. Beyond sinking a few unarmed merchantmen, nothing of importance was accomplished.