Prime Minister.
The point I am anxious to safeguard is our freedom of choice if the occasion arises, and consequent power to influence French policy beforehand. That freedom will be sensibly impaired if the French can say that they have denuded their Atlantic seaboard, and concentrated in the Mediterranean on the faith of naval arrangements made with us. This will not be true. If we did not exist, the French could not make better dispositions than at present. They are not strong enough to face Germany alone, still less to maintain themselves in two theatres. They therefore rightly concentrate their Navy in the Mediterranean where it can be safe and superior and can assure their African communications. Neither is it true that we are relying on France to maintain our position in the Mediterranean.... If France did not exist, we should make no other disposition of our forces.
Circumstances might arise which in my judgment would make it desirable and right for us to come to the aid of France with all our force by land and sea. But we ask nothing in return. If we were attacked by Germany, we should not make it a charge of bad faith against the French that they left us to fight it out alone; and nothing in naval and military arrangements ought to have the effect of exposing us to such a charge if, when the time comes, we decide to stand out.
This is my view, and I am sure I am in line with you on the principle. I am not at all particular how it is to be given effect to, and I make no point about what document it is set forth in. But [consider] how tremendous would be the weapon which France would possess to compel our intervention, if she could say, ‘On the advice of and by arrangement with your naval authorities we have left our Northern coasts defenceless. We cannot possibly come back in time.’ Indeed [I added somewhat inconsequently], it would probably be decisive whatever is written down now. Every one must feel who knows the facts that we have the obligations of an alliance without its advantages, and above all without its precise definitions.
W.S.C.
The difficulty proved a real one. The technical naval discussions could only be conducted on the basis that the French Fleet should be concentrated in the Mediterranean, and that in case of a war in which both countries took part, it would fall to the British fleet to defend the Northern and Western coasts of France. The French, as I had foreseen, naturally raised the point that if Great Britain did not take part in the war, their Northern and Western coasts would be completely exposed. We however, while recognising the difficulty, steadfastly declined to allow the naval arrangements to bind us in any political sense. It was eventually agreed that if there was a menace of war, the two Governments should consult together and concert beforehand what common action, if any, they should take. The French were obliged to accept this position and to affirm definitely that the naval conversations did not involve any obligation of common action. This was the best we could do for ourselves and for them.
I commend these discussions and the document I have printed above to German eyes. The German Naval Minister exults in a policy which has had the effect of uniting in common defence against Germany, in spite of themselves, two powerful Fleets till then rivals. The British Ministers so far from welcoming this consolidation of forces in the opposite balance to Germany, are anxious to preserve their freedom of action and reluctant to become entangled with continental Powers. Germany was, in fact, forging a coalition against herself, and Britain was seeking to save her from the consequences of her unwisdom. It is not often that one can show so plainly the workings of events. But all was lost on Admiral von Tirpitz.
This sincere, wrongheaded, purblind old Prussian firmly believed that the growth of his beloved navy was inducing in British minds an increasing fear of war, whereas it simply produced naval rejoinders and diplomatic reactions which strengthened the forces and closed the ranks of the Entente. It is almost pathetic to read the foolish sentences in which on page after page of his Memoirs he describes how much Anglo-German relations were improved in 1912, 1913 and 1914 through the realisation by the British people of Germany’s great and growing naval power. He notices that the violent agitations against German naval expansion which swept England in 1904 and again in 1908 were succeeded by a comparatively calm period in which both Powers were building peacefully and politely against each other. This he thinks was a proof that his treatment was succeeding, and that all friction was passing away—another dose or two and it would be gone altogether. The violent agitations in England were, however, the symptom of doubt and differences of opinion in our national life about whether the German menace was real or not, and whether the right measures were being taken to meet it. As doubts and differences on these points were gradually replaced by general agreement among the leading men in all parties to meet a grave danger, the agitations subsided. The excitement in the Press and in Parliament, the warning speeches and counter-speeches were not intended for foreign consumption. England was not trying to make an impression upon Germany. She was trying to make up her own mind: and in proportion as this mind arrived at solid and final conclusions, silence was again restored. But it was not the silence of sleep. With every rivet that von Tirpitz drove into his ships of war, he united British opinion throughout wide circles of the most powerful people in every walk of life and in every part of the Empire. The hammers that clanged at Kiel and Wilhelmshaven were forging the coalition of nations by which Germany was to be resisted and finally overthrown. Every threatening gesture that she made, every attempt to shock or shake the loosely knit structure of the Entente made it close and fit together more tightly. Thus Tirpitz:—
‘British statesmen naturally did not stress the fact in their conversations with Germans that it was mainly the presence of our nearly completed fleet in the North Sea that had produced their respectful tone, and had lessened the probability of a British attack. Of course they only spoke of their peaceful inclinations and not so much of the facts which strengthened these inclinations.’ And again (p. 192): ‘Seventeen years of fleet-building had, it is true, improved the prospects of an acceptable peace with England.’
Is it possible to be further from the truth than this? There never had been any probability or possibility of a British attack on Germany. Why should we attack Germany for building ships when we could ourselves build more ships quicker and cheaper? Why incur the guilt, cost and hazard of war, when a complete remedy was obvious and easy? But the ‘respectful tone’ was that of men who felt how serious the position had become, and were anxious to avoid any responsibility for causing a crisis. It was not restraint imposed by fear of the ‘nearly completed fleet in the North Sea,’ but the calm resulting from resolve to be prepared.