'The only foreigner who is known to the Russian peasantry is the German, and the name for German and for foreigner with the peasantry is the same, and the hatred of the "dumb men," as they call their German neighbours, is intense. The peasantry know little of the English, and if you listen to their sentiments you discover that it is their belief that one day there will be between them and Germany a war compared with which, their soldiers say, that of 1870 will be child's play, and that if Germany wins this will not be the end, but that war after war will follow until Germany is destroyed.'
'Because Russia is very violent in her language and her acts, we often fail to see how a peasantry, which an aristocratic government or a government of political economists could never win, is won over by her to her rule. The Moscow men failed in Bulgaria, but in Poland they succeeded, and in the Baltic provinces, too, their methods and their policy have not been wanting, and the problems that have so long perplexed this country in her relations with Ireland would have been solved in a week by Samarin, or Miliutin, or Prince Teherkasky.' [Footnote: Present Position of European Politics, pp. 125, 134.]
The popular phrases which dubbed Sir Charles Dilke as 'anti-German' or 'anti-Russian' were never more curiously misapplied. The flaw to be found even in the mental constitution of Gambetta's great personality, as shown by his antagonism to Russia, had no part in his friend's outlook; nor did Sir Charles's friendship for all things French make him an enemy to Germany, though the possibility of conjuring 'the German peril' was ever in his mind. But he doubted the wisdom of the wavering counsels which began with 'lying down to Germany,' and were to be marked by the cession of Heligoland. Strong men and strong Governments recognize and respect one another; and in dealing with Germany he believed that it was necessary never to forget this trite yet valuable warning.
If personal friendships and political sympathy made Sir Charles, as the previous chapters have shown, look constantly to France as the natural ally of Great Britain, and also her most desirable ally, neither friendships nor sympathies could blind him to the constant danger arising from the instability of French Administrations, and the consequent difficulty of relying on any certainty in arrangements projected for joint action. Of this the events connected with Egypt had been a most conspicuous illustration. Nor were these the only dangers: for the best friends of France were painfully aware of the immense influence exercised by powerful financial interests both in her domestic and in her foreign affairs, and by the growth of fierce antagonisms on home questions which seemed to tear the country asunder and paralyze her position abroad. Numerous questions, not only in Egypt, but elsewhere in Africa; the old quarrels about the Newfoundland fisheries, on which Sir Charles was constantly putting his finger as a possible cause of a serious quarrel; and increasing jealousies in the Pacific, contributed to produce a condition of permanent tension for many years in the relations of the two countries, until the Fashoda incident in 1898 brought a crisis which cleared the air. Two of the ablest men in France, M. Jules Ferry and M. Hanotaux, were, to say the least, not friendly to Great Britain, and a plan which Sir Julian Pauncefote [Footnote: Then Permanent Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and afterwards Lord Pauncefote and Ambassador at Washington.] had suggested in 1884, of attempting to bring all outstanding questions with France into one great settlement, fell still-born, to be vivified, but twenty years later, by Lord Lansdowne in more favourable circumstances.
In all possible complications Sir Charles relied much on Italy's close friendship for England—notwithstanding her entry into the Triple Alliance—a friendship due to permanent gratitude for the support which she had received from Lord Russell, Mr. Gladstone, and Lord Palmerston, at the crisis of her fate in 1859; and also to the offer to her of a joint occupation of Egypt in 1882—an offer rejected indeed, but fruitful of good feeling.
But more important even than any question of alliances was, he insisted, the necessity that Great Britain should know her own mind, and have a definite policy in regard to the future of Constantinople and of Egypt, and in regard to the Belgian guarantee. Army organization itself obviously depended on policy, and in this connection there was a danger at home greater, perhaps, than any originating abroad.
'It is too much the case with us in England,' he wrote, 'that when we are occupied with the consideration of the Irish problem, or dealing with the circumstances which most often lead to the rise and fall of Ministries, we allow the foreign affairs of the country to be transacted in the dark: with an absence of control which, owing to the efficiency of our Foreign Office, may produce no ill, but also with an absence of knowledge which cannot be advantageous. On the other hand, when some awkward circumstance arises, a disproportionate weight is attached to it by those who have wilfully remained in ignorance of the true position, and the diplomacy of the country is suddenly unduly hampered by criticism which rests on no foundation of fact.'
Speaking from experience, he uttered a warning as to the danger of uninstructed debates and foolish questions—then so frequent—on foreign affairs in the House of Commons, and the harm done by them abroad. He spoke of the tendency to take advantage of some rebuff in foreign affairs for party motives, and urged that, as secrecy was not to be hoped for, members should at least try to inform themselves and the electorate, and avoid 'periods of ignorant calm' or 'equally ignorant panic.' In this connection he never ceased to insist on the weakness of our position abroad, owing to the deficient strength and want of organization of our army; the small results shown for the immense amount spent; the insufficient stock of arms and ammunition, and the poor reserves of rifles; and he urged that, whatever our economies, none should fall upon equipment or reserves of material. Such economies he stigmatized as a 'horrible treachery to the interests of the country.' [Footnote: The military situation as a whole is discussed in chapter vi. of The Present Position of European Politics, 'The United Kingdom.']