Chapter VI: Attempts at Peace (3)

At the time of writing these lines, in June, 1919, Austria has long ceased to exist. There is only left now a small, impoverished, wretched land called German-Austria, a country without army or money; helpless, starving, and wellnigh in despair. This country has been told of the peace terms at St. Germain. It has been told it must give up the Tyrol as to be handed over to Italy. And defenceless and helpless as it is, it sends up a cry of despair and frantic grief. One voice only is heard--such peace is impossible!

How could an Austrian Government accept the dictates of London at a time when our armies stood far advanced in enemy country, unvanquished and unbroken, when we had for Ally the strongest land Power in the world, and when the greatest generals of the war so firmly believed in the break-through and in final victory?

To demand that in 1917 or 1918 I should have accepted peace terms which in 1919 were rejected by the whole of the German-Austrian people is sheer madness. But it may be there is method in such madness. The method of using every means to discredit the "old régime."

* * * * *

In the beginning of August, 1917, an effort was made at a _rapprochement_ between England and Germany which, unfortunately, almost immediately broke down.

At the suggestion of England a neutral Power had sounded Germany with regard to Belgium. Germany replied that she was ready for direct verbal negotiations with England on the Belgian question. In transmitting this favourable answer, Germany did not entrust it to the same neutral Power that had brought the message, but for some unknown reason confided it to a trusted messenger from another neutral country. This latter appears to have been guilty of some indiscreet dealings, and when rumours of the affair reached Paris it caused some anxiety. It was probably thought there that England was more interested in the Belgian than in the Alsace-Lorraine question.

The messenger sent from Berlin thought that his task had failed, and sent word to Berlin that, owing to his errand having been made known, the opinion among the Entente was that every step taken by Germany was condemned beforehand to failure.

The Government which had employed the messenger took up the case on its own initiative, and transmitted the German reply to London. No answer was ever received from England.

This is the account as given to me _post festum_ by Berlin, and doubtless reflects Berlin's views. Whether the incident in detail was exactly as described, or whether many more hitherto unknown events took place, has not been proved.

During the war all happenings on the other side of the trenches were looked upon with dim and gloomy eyes as through a veil, and, according to news received by me later, it was not clear whether England had sent an answer. Whether it was dispatched and held up on the way, or what became of it I never knew. It is said never to have reached Berlin.

A warlike speech by Asquith on September 27 appears to be connected with this unsuccessful attempt, and served to calm the Allies.

It appears extremely doubtful to me, however, whether this advance would have led to anything, had the occasion been more favourable. The previously mentioned letter of the Imperial Chancellor Michaelis dates from those August days, a letter referring to Belgian projects which were very far removed from the English ideas on the subject. And even if it had been possible to settle the Belgian question, there would have been that of Alsace-Lorraine, which linked France and England together, and, first and foremost, the question of disarmament. The chasm that divided the two camps would have grown so wide that no bridge could possibly have spanned it.

Not until January, 1918, did I learn the English version. According to that, the Germans are said to have taken the first steps, and the English were not disinclined to listen, but heard nothing further. It was stated in _Vorwärts_ that the suggestion was made at the instigation of the Cabinet Council, but that subsequently military influence gained the upper hand. The episode did not tend to improve the frame of mind of the leading men in England.

In the early summer of 1917 conditions seemed favourable for peace and the hope of arriving at an understanding, though still far distant, was not exactly a Utopian dream. How far the hope of splitting our group and the failure of the U-boat warfare may have contributed to stiffen the desire for war in the Entente countries cannot definitely be stated. Both factors had a share in it. Before we came to a deadlock in the negotiations, the position was such that even in case of a separate peace we should have been compelled to accept the terms of the conference of London. Whether the Entente would have abandoned that basis if we had not veered from the straight course, and by unofficial cross-purposes become caught in the toils of separatist desires, but had quickly and consistently carried out our task, is not proved, and never will be. After the débâcle in the winter of 1918-19 it was intimated to me as a fact that when Clemenceau came into power a peace of understanding with Germany became out of the question. His standpoint was that Germany must be definitely vanquished and crushed. Our negotiations, however, had begun under Briand, and Clemenceau only came into power when the peace negotiations had become entangled and were beginning to falter.

With regard to Austria-Hungary, both France and England would have welcomed a separate peace on our part, even during Clemenceau's period of office; but in that case we should have had to accept the terms of the London conference.

Such was the peace question then. How it would have developed if no misleading policy had come into being naturally cannot be stated.

I am not putting forward suppositions but confirming facts. And the fact remains that the failure of the U-boat campaign on the one hand, and a policy carried on behind the backs of the responsible men on the other hand, were the reasons why the favourable moment passed and the peace efforts were checked. And I herewith repeat that this fact does not in itself prove that peace negotiations would not also have failed later if the two reasons mentioned above had not existed.

It became quite clear in the autumn that the war would have to continue. In my speeches to delegations I endeavoured to leave no doubt that we were faithful to our Allies. When I said "I see no difference between Strassburg and Trieste," I said it chiefly for Sofia and Constantinople, for the overthrow of the Quadruple Alliance was the greatest danger. I still hoped to be able to prop the trembling foundations of the Alliance policy, and either to secure a general peace in the East, where the military opposition was giving way, or to see it draw nearer through the anticipated German break-through on the Western front.

Several months after my dismissal in the summer of 1918 I spoke in the Herrenhaus on foreign policy, and warned everyone present against trying to undermine the Quadruple Alliance. When I declared that "honour, duty to the Alliance, and the call for self-preservation compel us to fight by the side of Germany," I was misunderstood. It did not seem as though the public realised that the moment the Entente thought the Quadruple Alliance was about to break up, from that moment our cause was lost. Had the public no knowledge of the London agreement? Did they not know that a separate peace would hand us over totally defenceless to those cruel conditions? Did they not realise that the German army was the shield that afforded us the last and only possibility of escaping the fate of being broken up?

My successor steered the same course as I had done, doubtless from the same reasons of honour and the call for self-preservation. I have no particulars as to what occurred in the summer of 1918.

Afterwards events followed in rapid succession. First came our terrible defeat in Italy, then the Entente break-through on the Western front, and finally the Bulgarian secession, which had gradually been approaching since the summer of 1917.

3

As is the case in all countries, among the Entente during the war there were many and varied currents of thought. When Clemenceau came into office the definite destruction of Germany was the dominant war aim.

To those who neither see nor hear the secret information which a Foreign Minister naturally has at his disposal, it may appear as though the Entente, in the question of crushing Germany's military strength, had sometimes been ready to make concessions. I think that this may have been the case in the spring of 1917, but not later, when any such hope was deceptive. Lansdowne in particular spoke and wrote in a somewhat friendly tone, but Lloyd George was the determining influence in England.

When sounding England on different occasions, I endeavoured to discover by what means the dissolution of the military power in Germany was to be or could be guaranteed--and I invariably came to an _impasse_. It was never explained how England intended to carry out the proposal.

The truth is that there is no way of disarming a strong and determined people except by defeating them, but such an aim was not to be openly admitted to us in the preliminary dealings. The delegates could not suggest any suitable mode of discussion, and no other proposals could lead to a decision.

Lansdowne, and perhaps Asquith as well, would have been content with a parliamentary régime which would have deprived the Emperor of power and given it to the Reichstag. Not so Lloyd George; at least, not later. The English Prime Minister's well-known speech, "A disarmament treaty with Germany would be a treaty between a fox and many geese," conveyed what he really thought.

After my Budapest speech, which was treated with such scorn and contempt in the Press and by public opinion on the other side of the Channel, word was sent to me from an English source that it was said the "Czernin scheme" might settle the question. But again it was not Lloyd George who said that.

Owing to the extreme distrust that Clemenceau, the English Prime Minister, and with them the great majority in France and England, had of Germany's intentions, no measure could be devised that would have given London and Paris a sufficient guarantee for a future peaceful policy. From the summer of 1917, no matter what Germany had proposed, Lloyd George would always have rejected it as inadequate.

In consequence of this it was quite immaterial later to the course of the war that Germany not only did nothing whatever to allay English fears, but, on the contrary, poured oil in the fire and fanned the flames.

Germany, the leading military Power in the war, never for one moment thought of agreeing to disarmament under international control. After my speech in Budapest I was received in Berlin not in an unfriendly manner, but with a sort of pity, as some poor insane person might be treated. The subject was avoided as much as possible. Erzberger alone told me of his complete agreement with me.

Had Germany been victorious her militarism would have increased enormously. In the summer of 1917 I spoke to several generals of high standing on the Western front, who unanimously declared that after the war armaments must be maintained, but on a very much greater scale. They compared this war with the first Punic War. It would be continued and its continuation be prepared for; in short, the tactics of Versailles. The standard of violence must be planted, and would be the banner of the generals, the Pan-Germans, the Fatherland Party, etc. etc. They thought as little about a reconciliation of the nations after the war as did the Supreme Council of Four at Versailles, and Emperor, Government and Reichstag floundered helplessly in this torrent of violent purpose.

The military spirit flourished on the Spree as it is doing now on the Seine and the Thames. Lloyd George and Unter den Linden in Berlin. The only difference between Foch and Ludendorff is that the one is a Frenchman and the other a German; as men they are as like as two peas.

The Entente is victorious, and many millions are delighted and declare that the policy of Might is justified. The future only can show whether this is not a terrible mistake. The lives of hundreds of thousands of young, hopeful men who have fallen might have been saved if in 1917 peace had been made possible for us. The triumph of victory cannot call them back to life again. It appears to me that the Entente has conquered too much, too thoroughly. The madness of expiring militarism, in spite of all its orgies, has perhaps celebrated its last triumph at Versailles.

Postscript.

Taking it altogether, the real historical truth concerning the peace movement is that, in general, neither the Entente nor the ruling, all-powerful military party in Germany wished for a peace of understanding. They both wished to be victorious and to enforce a peace of violence on the defeated adversary. The leading men in Germany--Ludendorff above all--never had a genuine intention of releasing Belgium in an economic and political sense; neither would they agree to any sacrifices. They wished to conquer in the East and the West, and their arbitrary tendencies counteracted the pacifist leaning of the Entente as soon as there were the slightest indications of it. On the other hand, the leading men in the Entente--Clemenceau from the first and Lloyd George later--were firmly resolved to crush Germany, and therefore profited by the continuous German threats to suppress all pacifist movements in their own countries, always ready to prove that a peace of understanding with Berlin would be a "pact between the fox and the geese."

Thanks to the attitude of the leading Ministers in Germany, the Entente was fully persuaded that an understanding with Germany was quite out of the question, and insisted obstinately on peace terms which could not be accepted by a Germany still unbeaten. This closes the _circular vitiosus_ which paralysed all negotiating activities.

_We_ were wedged in between these two movements and unable to strike out for ourselves, because the Entente, bound by their promises to their Allies, had already disposed of us by the Pact of London and the undertakings to Roumania and Serbia. We therefore _could_ not exercise extreme pressure on Germany, as we were unable to effect the annulment of those treaties.

In the early summer of 1917 the possibility of an understanding _seemed_ to show itself on the horizon, but it was wrecked by the previously mentioned events.

FOOTNOTES:

[8] Helfferich's _exposé_ is reproduced in the Appendix. (See p. 288.)

[9] At this time I did not know that my secret report to the Emperor was handed over to Herr Erzberger and not kept secret by him. (Later it was made public through the revelations of Count Wedel.)

[10] The disclosures made by Count Wedel and Helfferich concerning Erzberger are only a link in the chain.