"It would be, gentlemen,"
the Chancellor continued,
"in the interests of appeasement between both countries, it would be in the interest of the general peace of the world, that this polemic should cease. As little as we challenge England's right to set up the naval standard her responsible statesmen consider necessary for the maintenance of British power in the world without our seeing therein a threat against ourselves, so little can she take it ill of us if we do not wish our naval construction to be wrongly represented as a challenge against England (hear, hear, on the Right and Left). Gentlemen, these are the thoughts, as I judge from your assent, which we all entertain, which find expression in the statements of all speakers, and which are in harmony with all our views. Accept my additional statement that in the letter of his Majesty to Lord Tweedmouth one gentleman, one seaman, talks frankly to another, that our Kaiser highly appreciates the honour of being an admiral of the British navy, and that he is a great admirer of the political education of the British people and of their fleet, and you will have a just view of the tendency, tone, and contents of the imperial letter to Lord Tweedmouth. His Majesty consequently finds himself in this letter not only in full agreement with the Chancellor—I may mention this specially for the benefit of Herr Bebel—but, as I am convinced, in agreement with the entire nation. It would be deeply regrettable if the honourable opinions by which our Kaiser was moved in writing this letter should be misconstrued in England. With satisfaction I note that the attempts at such misconstruction have been almost unanimously rejected in England ('Bravo!' on the Right and Left). Above all, gentlemen, I believe that the admirable way in which the English Parliament has exemplarily treated the question will have the best effect in preventing a disturbance of the friendly relations between Germany and England and in removing all hostile intention from the discussions over the matter (agreement, Right and Left).
"Gentlemen, one more observation of a general nature. Deputies von Hertling and Bassermann have recommended us, in view of the suspicions spread about us abroad, a calm and watchful attitude of reserve, and for the treatment of the country's foreign affairs consistency, union, and firmness. I believe that the foreign policy we must follow cannot be characterized better or more rightly (applause)."
A German saying has it that one is wiser coming from, than going to, the Rathaus, the place of counsel. It is easy to see now that it would have been better had the Emperor not written the letter, better had the Times not brought it to public notice, better, also, had the Emperor or Lord Tweedmouth or Sir Edward Grey—for one of them must have spoken of it to a third person—not let its existence become known to anyone save themselves, at least not until the international situation which prompted it had ceased. As regards the Emperor in particular, judgment must be based on the answer to the question, Was the letter a private letter or a public document? The Times regarded it as the latter, and many politicians took that view, but probably nine people out of ten now regard it as the former. For such, the reflection that it was part of a private correspondence between two friendly statesmen, both well known to be sincere in their views that a country's navy—that all military preparations—are based on motives of national defence, not of high-handed aggression, must absolve the Emperor from any suspicion of political immorality. It was unfortunate that the letter was written, unfortunate that it was made known publicly, but, as it is an ill wind that blows nobody good, the episode may profit monarchs as well as meaner folk as an object lesson in the advantages of discretion.
Discussion of the Tweedmouth letter had hardly ceased when the whole question of the "personal regiment" was again, and as it now, five years after, appears, finally thrashed out between the Emperor and his folk. Before, however, considering the Daily Telegraph interview and the Emperor's part in it, something should be said as to the state of international ill-feeling which caused him to sanction its publication.
The ill-feeling was no sudden wave of hostility or pique, but a sentiment which had for years existed in the minds of both nations—a sentiment of mutual suspicion. The Englishman thought Germany was prepared to dispute with him the maritime supremacy of Great Britain, the German that England intended to attack Germany before Germany could carry her great design into execution. The proximate cause of the irritation—for it has not yet got beyond that—was the decision, as announced in her Navy Law of 1898, to build a fleet of battleships which Germany, but especially the Emperor, considered necessary to complete the defences, and appropriate for affirming the dignity, of the Empire.
This was the origo, but not the fons. The source was the Boer War and the Kruger telegram, though the philosophic historian might with some reason refer it in a large measure also to the surprise and uneasiness with which the leading colonial and commercial, as well as maritime, nation of the world saw the material progress, the waxing military power, and the longing for expansion of the not yet forty-year-old German Empire. Forty years ago the word "Germany" had no territorial, but only a descriptive and poetical, significance; certainly it had no political significance; for the North German Union, out of which the modern German Empire grew, meant for Englishmen, and indeed for politicians everywhere, only Prussia. Prussia was less liked by the world then than she is now, when she is not liked too well; and accordingly there was already in existence the disposition in England to criticize sharply the conduct of Prussia and to apply the same criticism to the Empire Prussia founded. In this condition of international feeling England's long quarrel with the Transvaal Republic came nearer to the breaking-point; at the same time there was an idea prevalent in England that Germany was coquetting with the Boers—if not looking to a seizure of Transvaal territory, at least hoping for Boer favour and Boer commercial privileges. The Jameson Raid was made and failed; the Emperor and his advisers sent the fateful telegram to President Kruger; and the peace of the world has been in jeopardy ever since!
The "storm" arose from the publication, in the London Daily Telegraph of October 28, 1908, of an interview coming, as the editor said in introducing it, "from a source of such unimpeachable authority that we can without hesitation commend the obvious message which it conveys to the attention of the public." As to the origin and composition of the interview a good deal of mystery still exists. All that has become known is that some one, whose identity has hitherto successfully been concealed, with the object of demonstrating the sentiments of warm friendship with which the Emperor regarded England, put together, in England or in Germany, a number of statements made by the Emperor and sanctioned by him for publication. Whether the Emperor read the interview previous to publication or not, no official statement has been made; it is, however, quite certain that he did. At all events it was sent, or sent back, to England and published in due course. The immediate effect was a hubbub of discussion, accompanied with general astonishment in England, a storm of popular resentment and humiliation in Germany, and voluminous comment in other countries, some of it favourable, some of it unfavourable, to the Emperor.
The text of the interview in the Daily Telegraph was introduced, as mentioned, with the words:—