Chapter VI: The Position of Italy

Why this differential treatment as between Germany and Italy? one may ask. Both being Austria’s allies, each might reasonably claim the same degree of confidence as the other. Whence, then, this one-sided distrust? To this query the answer came pat and plausible. There was no difference in the degrees of confidence displayed by Austria towards the Governments of her allies, no more information having been vouchsafed to one than to the other. To the Berlin Foreign Office was dealt out the same meed of intelligence as to the Consulta. Consequently there is no ground for complaint. The matter being a concern of Austria’s, with no direct bearings on the Triple Alliance, was communicated to the other two members of the Alliance in exactly the same measure. And I have good grounds for believing that the _Berlin Foreign Office_ did not receive directly from the Ballplatz in Vienna the text of the ultimatum to Servia. The Kaiser was the sole direct recipient.

None the less, Italy’s position was necessarily shaped in part by Austria’s failure to keep her informed of a move which might entail a European war, and might, therefore, warrant a claim on her for her services as an active ally in that war. The Consulta argued that if Italy was deemed not to have a sufficient interest in a transaction which was calculated to lead to an armed conflict, neither could she be considered to have a corresponding interest in the upshot of that transaction. For the duties of an ally during war presuppose certain corresponding rights in peace, and foremost among these is her claim to be consulted, to offer advice, and to exercise a moderating influence. And as she was deprived of those rights, so she was _ipso facto_ relieved of the corresponding duties. And to this line of reasoning there is no convincing answer. That, however, is but the formal aspect of Italy’s justification of her neutrality. She can and does take her stand on higher ground. Bound to aid her allies only if these are attacked, she is under no obligation to co-operate with them in the field if they themselves are the aggressors. And as Austria and Germany deliberately provoked hostilities, they have no real claim on their ex-ally.

In France, and to a lesser extent in Great Britain, much--too much, to my thinking--has been written about the strong motives which appeal to King Victor Emanuel’s Government to abandon its neutrality and throw in its lot with the Entente Powers. It was a deplorable blunder, we are told, on the part of the short-sighted statesmen of the Consulta to have ever entered into partnership with the military States of Europe. Worse than this, it was an act of the blackest ingratitude towards France, and in a lesser degree towards Russia. But the belligerents of the Entente are generous, and Italy, if she repents and makes amends by joining hands with France and Great Britain before it is too late, will be magnanimously forgiven and lavishly rewarded. Unredeemed Italy--_Italia irredenta_--now under the Austrian yoke, will be presented to her at the close of hostilities. She may also take possession of Valona and supreme command of the Adriatic. But these rewards are for timely action. If she waits too long she will have waited in vain.

Exhortations of this kind are to be deprecated as mischievous. They are likely--if they produce any effect at all--to damage the cause which they are meant to further. Italy must be allowed to understand her own vital and secondary interests at least as well as the amateur diplomatists who so generously undertake to ascertain and promote them, and all of whom have an axe of their own to grind. In the eyes of the world, though not in those of her ex-allies, Germany and Austria, she has completely vindicated her right to hold aloof from her allies in a war of pure aggression, waged for the hegemony of the Teutonic race. But to pass from neutrality to belligerency, to treat the allies of yesterday as the enemies of to-day, without transition and without adequate provocation, would be in accordance neither with the precepts of ethics nor the promptings of statesmanship.

The reproach hurled at Italy for her long co-partnership with Austria and Germany appears to me to be unmerited. It was neither a foolish nor an ungrateful move. On the contrary, I feel, and have always felt, convinced that it was the act of an able statesman whose main merit in the matter was to discern its necessity and to turn that necessity into a work of apparent predilection. As a member of the Triple Alliance, Italy discharged a twofold function, national and international. She avoided a war against Austria-Hungary which, whatever the military and naval upshot, would have secured for her no advantages, political or territorial, and would have exhausted her resources financial and military. And in this way, while directly pursuing her own interests, she indirectly furthered those of all Europe. Even under the favourable conditions realized by her membership of the Alliance, it was no easy task to repress popular feeling against Austria. At one time, indeed, when Count Aehrenthal was Minister of Foreign Affairs in Vienna, an Austro-Italian war was on the point of breaking out. The late Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his protégé, Baron Conrad von Hoetzendorff, who was then, and is now, Chief of the General Staff, were strongly in favour of severing the links that bound the Habsburg Monarchy to Italy and delivering an ultimatum to the Consulta. Between their quarrel and overt war stood a solitary individual, Count Aehrenthal, who had the courage of his opinion and refused to countenance the projected breach. His resignation or a pacific settlement were the alternatives which he laid before his sovereign, and this perspective, together with his lucid exposé of the sinister results of the proposed plunge, enlisted the aged Emperor on his side, and Baron Conrad von Hoetzendorff was gently removed--for a time--from the General Staff and appointed to a different post of trust.

Another function discharged by Italy while she retained her membership of the Alliance was purely international. She continued steadfastly to cultivate cordial relations with Great Britain, turning a deaf ear to the admonitions, exhortations, and blandishments of Berlin. No competent student of international politics who has watched the growth of Italy ever since she entered the Alliance, and has had the means of acquainting himself with the covert threats, overt seductions, and finely spun intrigues by which her fidelity to Great Britain was tested, will refuse to her statesmen the palm of European diplomacy or to her Government a sincere tribute for her steadfast loyalty to her British friends. Her policy during this chequered period has been a masterpiece of political wisdom and diplomatic deftness. In the Triple Alliance her influence was, and was intended to be, of a moderating character. It was thus that it was regarded by her statesmen and employed by her diplomatists. Whenever a quarrel between one of her own allies and one of ours grew acute, Italy’s endeavour was to compose it. She was at least as much averse to war as we were ourselves, and she cheerfully made heavy sacrifices to avert it. So long, therefore, as she was treated as a fully qualified member of the Alliance, we could feel assured that European peace had a powerful intercessor among its most dangerous enemies.

That is why, before the war, I always shared the view of the statesmen of the Consulta that Italy should do nothing calculated to sever her connection with Austria and Germany. I went further than this, and maintained that it was to our interest to support her diplomatically in the Near East and elsewhere, on the ground that the stronger she became the greater would her influence for peace grow, and the more valuable the services she could and would confer upon us without impairing her own interests.[14]

But by means of poisonous insinuations diplomatic and journalistic, the Wilhelmstrasse strove hard to sow suspicion and breed dissension between her and her western friends. It was, for instance, asserted by Germany that when last the Triple Alliance was prematurely renewed, the terms of the treaty had been extended, and an agreement respecting the sea-power of the allies in the Mediterranean had been concluded by all three. This was a falsehood concocted presumably for the purpose of embroiling France, Russia, and Great Britain with Italy. Its effect upon Russia was certainly mischievous. And having ascertained from two of the allies that it was an invention, I publicly stigmatized it as such, and affirmed that the treaty had been signed without modification. And events have proved the accuracy of my information.

Another and much more insidious untruth, emanating from the same source and fabricated for a like purpose, turned upon the withdrawal of our warships from the Mediterranean, where our interests were confided to the care of the French navy. This disposition was, of course, taken with a view to the general sea-defences of Great Britain and France in case of an emergency such as that which has since had to be faced. It was certainly not directed against Italy, with whom our Government neither had nor expected to have any grounds for a quarrel. None the less, it supplied too attractive an occasion to be lost by the ever-ready Prussian, who made haste to use it in order to generate mistrust between Italy and her friends of the Entente. Sundry Italian diplomatists were initiated, in seemingly casual ways, into the “true meaning” of that “insidious” move. It was not directed against Germany and Austria, they were assured, but had Italy, and Italy alone, for its object. France, jealous of the growing power and prestige of Italy in the Midland Sea, had sought and obtained Great Britain’s assent to the concentration of France’s warships there. This innovation constituted, and was meant to constitute, a warning to Italy to slacken her speed in the Midland Sea. And I was requested to make private representations to our Foreign Office, accompanied by a request that this unfriendly measure should be discontinued. My assurances that it contained neither a threat nor a warning to Italy were but wasted breath. Information of a “trustworthy” character had been obtained--it was not volunteered, and could not, therefore, be suspected--that the initiative had been taken by France, whose dominant motive was jealousy of Italy.

To my mind this misstatement, which derived the poison of its sting from the truly artful way in which it was conveyed through “a disinterested source,” was one of the most mischievous of Prussian wiles. Italy was led to believe that the real design of the Republic was the establishment of French hegemony in the Mediterranean; that M. Poincaré, whose regrettable speech about the French steamers _Carthage_ and _Manuba_, which had been detained by Italy during the Lybian campaign, stung Italians to the quick, was the promoter of the scheme, and that the shelving of M. Pichon, who was a friend of Italy’s, was its corollary.

Italy was made to feel that France’s attitude towards her was systematically semi-hostile. No one act, excepting the concentration of the French fleet in the Mediterranean, was deemed radically serious, but the endless sequence of pin pricks was construed as evidence of a disposition which was as unfriendly as seemed compatible with neighbourly relations. Among these things, the protection of Italian religious communities in the East was taken by the Germans as the text for repeated diatribes against France for her unfriendly conduct towards her Latin sister. Atheistic France, it was sneeringly remarked, insists on protecting in the East the very communities which she has driven from her own territories in Europe, not because of the love she bears them, but by reason of her jealousy and hatred of Italy.

I remember one dispute of the kind which arose about the house of an Italian religious congregation in Tripoli of Syria. All the members save one being Italians, and having demanded the protection of their own Government, were entitled to have it, in virtue of a convention on the subject between France and Italy a few years before. The French Ambassador in Rome was anxious to have the question put off indefinitely, although at bottom there was no question at all, seeing that the case had been provided for. During the negociations and discussions that needlessly went on for fully two years, Germany lost no opportunity to rub France’s unfriendliness into Italy’s memory, and to prove that Italy’s one natural ally is Austria-Hungary.

These things are of yesterday, and it needs some little time to deaden the recollection of them.

When the present war was on the point of breaking out, one of the first misstatements spread by the diplomacy of the two Prussianized allies was Italy’s promise to co-operate with them against France, in return for the stipulated cession to her--as her share of the spoils of war--of Tunis, Savoy, and Nice. That this proposal was to have been made is certain. Whether the intention was actually carried out I am unable to say. But the archives of the French Foreign Office possess an interesting and trustworthy report on the subject, only one item of which is erroneous, to the effect that Italy had succumbed to the temptation.

Writing in the first half of June last on the subject of Italy’s foreign policy, I expressed myself in the following terms:

The problems with which Italian statesmen have for several decades
been grappling are uncommonly difficult and delicate. Probably
no European Government has in recent times been confronted with
a task so thorny as that with which the responsible advisers of
the three kings of United Italy have had to deal. And the tact,
resourcefulness, and suppleness with which they have achieved a set
of results which theoretically seemed unattainable and incompatible
with each other command the admiration of competent judges. Italy’s
foreign policy resembles nothing so much as one of those egg-dances
which Pope Leo X. delighted to witness after his Lucullan banquets.
And the deftness and rapidity with which the moves are made and
steps taken that seem certain to crush this egg or that, yet do no
damage to any of them, are amazing. But unlike the papal dancers,
the statesmen of the Consulta can look forward to no prize, to no
popular applause. Abroad they are accused of double-dealing, and at
home of pursuing a costly policy of adventure. France charges them
with ingratitude and perfidy. In Great Britain they are sometimes
set down as schemers. In Vienna they are mistrusted, while Berlin
indulges in scepticism or holds its judgment in suspense. And to
crown all, they are blamed or repudiated by a certain section
of their own people, whose welfare they have been laboriously
endeavouring to promote.

Italy’s policy in its general lines has been imposed by
circumstances and tempered by statesmanship. Far from embodying
Utopian notions or manifesting herself in dubious ventures, she has
kept well within the limits of the essential, the indispensable. By
making common cause with the two military Powers of Central Europe
and forming the Triple Alliance, she steered clear of a conflict
with Austria-Hungary which, so far as one can discern, there was
no other way of avoiding. Italian irredentism in the Dual Monarchy
and the rivalry of the two States in the Adriatic had confronted
them both with the dilemma of choosing between a formal alliance
and open antagonism. The decision took the form of a bold move, but
a necessary one. Italy’s adherence to the League gave deep offence
to France, and led to their estrangement, which was followed by
several press campaigns and one damaging tariff war. And in spite
of the subsequent reconciliation, the relations between the two
Latin nations have never since been marked by genuine cordiality.
The press of France and many eminent politicians there resent it as
a sort of racial treason that Italy should be bound by treaty to
Germany and Austria-Hungary. Russia, who for a time cultivated a
close friendship with the Italian people, was surprised and pained
by the seemingly needless and ostentatious renewal of the Triple
Alliance in the year 1912, a twelvemonth before it had terminated.
Even British publicists have found much to condemn in the attitude
of the Italian Government during the Balkan war and down to the
present moment. During all this time the cultivation of rudimentary
neighbourliness, to say nothing of friendship between the Italian
and the Austrian peoples as distinguished from their Governments,
has been for the statesmen of both countries, and in particular
for those of Rome, a work of infinite care, ingenious expedients,
and painful self-discipline, openly deprecated by an influential
section of the Italian press.

The alpha and omega of Italy’s foreign policy in the present is
the maintenance of her actual position in the Mediterranean, and
in the future the seasonable improvement of that position, and in
every case the prevention of a shifting of the equilibrium such
as would alter it to her disadvantage. To attain these objects is
an essential condition of Italy’s national existence, and calls
for the constant exercise of vigilance and caution alternating
with push and daring by her responsible rulers. It behoves her,
therefore, to be well affected towards France, friendly with
Austria, amicable with Great Britain, to hold fast to the Triple
Alliance, and to give no cause for umbrage to the Triple Entente.
In a word, it is the prestidigitation of statesmanship. And her
diplomacy has acquitted itself well of the task. The sum of the
efforts of successive Governments has been to raise Italy to a
unique position in Europe, to make her a link between the two
rival groups of Powers, to one of which she herself belongs, to
bestow upon her the second place in the Triple Alliance, and to
invest her with enormous influence for peace in the councils of
Europe. To grudge her this influence, which has been uniformly
exerted for the best interests of Europe and her own, implies
imperfect acquaintance with those interests or else a leaning
towards militarism. Every development which tends to strengthen
Italy, diplomatically and politically, tends also to augment the
safeguards of public peace and to lessen the chances of a European
conflict. On these grounds, therefore, were there none other, a
violent domestic reaction against the policy that has scored such
brilliant results would be an international calamity. Happily,
there is good hope that the bulk of the nation is wiser and also
stronger than the section which is answerable for, and in secret
sympathy with, the recent excesses.[15]

As the Mediterranean State _par excellence_, Italy cannot
contemplate the present distribution of power on the shores of
that sea with genuine complacency. The grounds for dissatisfaction
are rooted in the history of her past and in her apprehensions
for the future. None the less, the _status quo_ in Europe being
hallowed must be respected under heavy pains and penalties.
And the policy of the Consulta is directed to its maintenance,
because any modification of it in favour of another State, great
or small, would infallibly drive Italy out of her quiescence and
strain her to press with all her energies and at all risks in the
direction of a favourable readjustment. That is why seventeen
years ago the Austrian and the Italian Foreign Secretaries
concluded the so-called _noli me tangere_ Convention, by which
each of the two allies undertook to abstain from meddling with
Albania, to uphold Turkish rule there, and, failing that, to
establish self-government. It was in virtue of the same principle
that during the Balkan war Italy supported Austria-Hungary in
frustrating Servia’s attempt to divide up Albania among the allies
and obtain for herself access to the Adriatic. As long as the
Adriatic continues to present the same essential factors as to-day,
the Italian Government will not swerve from its present attitude.
But if once those factors or their relative positions towards each
other underwent a change, the whole scaffolding of self-denial and
everything that rested upon that would fall to pieces like a house
of cards. And that scaffolding supports the peace of Europe.

On her Eastern shore Italy possesses no port capable of serving
as a thoroughly suitable base for naval operations. Brindisi is
at best a mere makeshift; Venice is no better. Italy’s rival,
Austria, on the other hand, is luckier. Cattaro, Sebenico, and Pola
serve the purpose admirably, giving the Austrian navy a distinct
advantage in this respect. It must, therefore, be gall and wormwood
to Italian politicians to think that an ideal port, Valona, on the
Albanian coast, a few hours from Italy, lies unutilized because
each State grudges it to the other on grounds which cannot be
reasoned away. Valona, incorporated in the Habsburg Monarchy, which
is already so well equipped on the Adriatic both for defence and
attack, would turn the scale against Italy, upset the equilibrium
which is at present accepted as a stern necessity, and might even
unchain the forces of war. The prospect of kindred eventualities
forbids Austria to allow that magnificent naval base to fall into
the hands of her rival, who, holding the key to the Adriatic,
could close the Otranto Canal and immobilize the fleet of the Dual
Monarchy.

It would be unfair, therefore, to contend that the mainspring
of Italy’s seemingly anti-Slav policy is racial bitterness
or political narrow-mindedness. A natural instinct of
self-preservation underlies it which neither argument nor sentiment
can affect. Her present wish and the object of her endeavours is
to enable Albania to maintain her independence and to keep the
equilibrium in the Adriatic intact. And it is sheer inconceivable
that any Italian Government should deviate from this line of
action....

It is entirely misleading, therefore, to assert that Italy’s
alliance with the two military Powers of Central Europe is the
result of eclectic affinities or to fancy that by cajolery or
threats she can be moved to sever the links that bind her to the
concern. I entertain not the slightest doubt that the French
Ambassador in Rome, M. Barère, whose infinite patience and
marvellous tact drew France and Italy very close together for
a while, would be the first to recognize that the breaking-up
of the Triple Alliance is a hopeless enterprise, and an aim of
questionable utility from any point of view. Outsiders, whose
opinions are moulded by the daily press, may be excused for
thinking otherwise. The renewal of the treaty in the year 1912,
a full year before its expiry, has been uniformly construed as
an indication of Italy’s resolve to emphasize her friendship
with her allies, and this interpretation appeared to be borne
out by a number of concomitant circumstances and in particular
by the comments of the European press. It was likewise assumed
that at the same time the Treaty was supplemented by a naval
convention turning upon the future action of the Triple Alliance
in the Mediterranean. I investigated these reports in Rome and
elsewhere, and I received convincing evidence that they were both
equally groundless. No new clause touching the naval forces of the
Alliance, or indeed dealing with anything else, was added to the
Treaty. It was renewed as it stood. And the early date at which
it was signed was credibly explained to me as the outcome of a
legitimate eagerness on the part of Italy to see reaffirmed by
Austria-Hungary the _noli me tangere_ Convention which acted as a
bar to encroachments, territorial or other, on Albania.

Between France and Italy the cordiality established mainly by the
exertions of M. Barère has of late years undergone a marked change,
and while the two Governments were endeavouring to smooth over
their differences and deal amicably with each contentious matter as
it cropped up, the press of each country was bombarding the other
with taunts and reproaches which rendered the task of diplomacy
unnecessarily difficult. And British publicists, for reasons which
lie near the surface, felt inclined to take sides with their
French colleagues, without perhaps investigating with sufficient
closeness and care the origin of the estrangement. Those unfriendly
utterances, some of them the effects of mere misunderstandings, run
through contemporary political history like a red thread through a
piece of white cambric.

Italy’s solicitude for friendship with France and Great Britain is
prompted by interest as well as sentiment. For she sorely needs
peace, recognizes the need, and is exerting herself to the utmost
to insure it. And this indisputable fact might profitably serve as
the starting-point of one’s reasoning on the subject, and likewise
as a safe basis for the attitude of the statesmen interested. For
a long time, it is true, the occupation of Tunis by France in 1887
was resented by every public man in the Peninsula. The ensuing
tension was accentuated as much by the manner as by the policy of
Crispi. The Abyssinian campaign made matters worse, seeing that
the Abyssinians were believed to have received their arms and
ammunition from the French. During all those untoward incidents,
Great Britain was found on Italy’s side. The Franco-Italian war of
tariffs raised mutual animosity to its highest power, after which
a reaction set in which led to the conclusion of the Mediterranean
agreements with France and England.

During the Lybian war Italy seized two French steamers, the
_Manuba_ and the _Carthage_, for alleged contravention of
international law, and sent them to Cagliari. France protested, and
M. Poincaré took up such a decided position in the matter and gave
it such vehement expression that all Italy was unanimous in holding
him as the destroyer of the good relations laboriously established
by M. Barère and the Consulta. And the affront has not yet been
forgotten. The next grievance had its source in the action of the
British Government, which confided to France the protection of
her Mediterranean interests, and encouraged the Republic to keep
the bulk of its warships in that sea. This preponderance of the
French fleet in Italy’s own sea was regarded by the Government of
the Peninsula as an unfriendly act, owing to its special bearings
on their relative naval strength there. And the author of this
obnoxious innovation was believed to be the Republic, which had
induced Great Britain to acquiesce.

Lately Italy asked for an economic opening in Asia Minor, into
which every Great Power of Europe was penetrating. That the demand
was not unreasonable is shown by the fact that it has since been
complied with. In view of that contingency, therefore, it would
have been well to examine it without bias, instead of opposing it
with vehemence. For Great Britain is no longer the most puissant
State in the Midland Sea, and circumstances may one day arise in
which she will be in want of an ally there. And Italy is her most
natural partner. The circumstances that she is a member of the
Triple Alliance is no bar to this prospective co-operation. For
the Triple Alliance is a defensive combination. It provides for a
certain well-defined eventuality, but outside that sphere Italy is
untrammelled.

The pith of the matter, then, is that British and French publicists
are wont to lay undue stress on Italy’s alliance with Germany and
Austria-Hungary. That engagement is but a single facet of her
activity. There are others more enduring. She is obliged to protect
her special interests and is also free to cultivate her special
friendships. Paramount among those interests is the maintenance of
peace, and chief of those friendships is that with Great Britain
and France. Even the Triple Alliance was founded as an association
for the prevention of war, and hitherto it has not drifted into
aggression. Italy’s influence in that concern is growing, and
together with it her facilities for upholding the pacific policy
with which she has uniformly identified herself. And the more
steadily her economic well-being and her political prestige
develop, the greater will be the weight which as second member of
the Alliance she can throw into the scale of peace.[16]

Italy occupies a unique position in the polity of Continental Europe. Whereas all other Great Powers owe much of what they have and are to successful wars, Italy is indebted for her rapid progress and growth chiefly to the arts of peace and the triumphs of diplomacy. And as she is an essentially pacific and cultured State, whose policy is inspired solely by national interests, it stands to reason that her statesmen will take heed not to endanger what she already possesses and what she may reasonably hope for in the future by any hasty move, and least of all by impulsively exchanging peace for war. In plain English, she will be guided by events, and it would be mere childishness to expect to see her rush into the arena, moved by a sudden outburst of sentimentality. And as yet the national interest is not deemed to have become a decisive motive. For this reason the importunity of her ex-allies is more likely to damage than help the cause in which it is employed. The Teutonic belligerents, too, are wasting their breath when they hold out the annexation of Tunis, Savoy, and Nice as the price of her co-operation, just as the Entente Powers would be doing were they to endeavour to entice her to their side by dangling maps of _Italia irredenta_ and Valona before her eyes. Italian statesmen may be trusted to gauge the situation aright, and when the upshot of the mighty struggle can be forecast, to make no miscalculation. They may also be credited with decision enough to take their final stand in good time. But above all else, it should be borne in mind that Italy will be guided solely by the promptings of her national interests. She will hardly consider these sufficiently guaranteed by a scrap of paper, and still less by a German promise of one.

Respecting one important consideration Italian statesmen will hardly be content to suspend their judgment or to cherish illusions. However satisfied in mind they may be that their neutrality was warranted by the aggression of their German and Austrian allies, they cannot ignore the contrary thesis which is firmly held by every thinking German and Austrian in the two Empires. The Kaiser, his Chancellor, the Evangelical theologians, the men of letters of the Fatherland, Count Bernstorff in Washington, all hold that Germany and Austria are but defending themselves against unprincipled aggression. And the corollary of this declaration is that Italy is guilty of the monstrous crime of regarding her treaty obligations as a worthless scrap of paper. For the moment impunity is the result of powerlessness to punish the criminal, and will continue only as long as its cause is operative.

That this and other equally momentous aspects of the thorny problem are receiving due consideration may be taken for granted.