Chapter II: Part 2

Metternich, who resembled Talleyrand in the complete self-control of a passionless diplomat, had a long and brilliant, but essentially sterile, career. His correspondence shows a keen and luminous spirit with a great mastery of detail, and capacity for manipulating the human pawns; but there is no deep insight, no real constructive policy. Indeed, he supported Alexander I in his efforts for a Holy Alliance or sacred league among nations, but it was conceived in such a form that it would not have interfered with the traditional game of diplomacy. Metternich indeed often pays his compliments to the ideal, as when he praises the league as resting on the same basis as the great Christian society of man, namely, the precept of the Book of Books, “Do unto others as you would that they should do unto you.” But the details of his policy were governed entirely by the barren principles of balance of power and legitimacy, and showed an utter disregard for the natural and ethnic facts underlying government. Metternich indeed himself at times realized the vanity of political intrigue, as when he wrote to his daughter from Paris in 1815, “This specific weight of the masses will always be the same, while we, poor creatures, who think ourselves so important, live only to make a little show by our perpetual motion, by our dabbling in the mud or in the shifting sand.”

When Alexander himself left the realm of vague ideals and descended to details, his impulses often took a form somewhat like the proposal made to Castlereagh at Vienna, “We are going to do a beautiful and grand thing. We are going to raise up Poland by giving her as king one of my brothers or the husband of my sister.” The British statesman does not seem to have been immediately carried away with this generous design.

It was consistent with the character and temper of the Congress of Vienna that there flowed in it innumerable currents and counter-currents of intrigue. In January, 1815, the representatives of England, France and Austria agreed upon a secret treaty of alliance, directed against Russia and Prussia. When Napoleon returned from Elba he found this document and showed it to the Russian Minister before tearing it up.

The first half of the nineteenth century was dominated by the principles that had prevailed at Vienna. In the details of diplomatic intercourse, indirection, bribery and deceit continue to prevail although in a less flamboyant fashion than in the eighteenth century. As the principle of nationalism comes more clearly to emerge, the secrecy of diplomatic _methods_ is distinguished from the secrecy of diplomatic _policy_ with increasing condemnation of the latter; a greater sense of responsibility to the nation as a whole begins to show itself, and the traditional resources of diplomacy are no longer quite adequate.

Nevertheless, the diplomatic literature of the age still looks upon diplomacy as essentially a tactical pursuit, conditioned by the continuous enmity of states. The French writer, Garden, in his _Traité de diplomatie_, gives the following elucidation: “Put on this plane, diplomacy becomes like a transcendent manœuvering of which the entire globe is the theater, where states are army corps, where the lines of combat change unceasingly, and where one never knows who is a friend, and who is an enemy. It is a political labyrinth in the midst of which ability alone is capable of moving with ease and without being smothered by detail.”

The memoirs and anecdotal literature of the period afford numerous instances of the persistence of that desire for cleverness in dealing with secrets, which often brings about amusing incidents.

At the time when Frankfort was the capital of the North German Confederation, the Austrian government provided its representative there (Count Rechberg) with duplicate instructions; one to the effect that he must exhaust every energy to maintain the most friendly and mutually helpful relations with Prussia; the other of quite the opposite tenor. The former was to be shown to the Prussians. Unfortunately, at the critical moment the Austrian Minister showed the wrong letter to Bismarck, who guessed the situation; suppressing his amusement as best he could, Bismarck tried to console the embarrassed Austrian by promising not to take any advantage of the slip.

A Prussian Minister for Foreign Affairs (Manteuffel) had hired a police agent to sneak into the French Embassy in order to secure some documents there. When he delightedly showed one of the letters secured to General Von Gerlach, the latter said: “I could have written you ten such letters for what this cost you.”

Disraeli, in a letter to his sister, spoke of the Danish Minister at London as his secret agent in the diplomatic corps.

There were also more innocent means of gaining advantages such as are practised in many other branches of human enterprise. For instance, Labouchere relates his discovery, when attaché at Washington, that Secretary Marcy was put in a terrible ill-humor whenever he lost at whist. Upon a hint from Labouchere, the British Minister managed thereafter regularly to lose in his games with Marcy who was immensely pleased at “beating the British at their own game.” Labouchere adds: “Every morning when the terms of the treaty were being discussed we had our revenge and scored a few points for Canada.”

There was all this time an increasing tendency to discount the importance of the traditional arts of diplomacy and to believe that a great deal of this carefully nurtured secrecy was merely a trick of the trade. Bismarck expressed himself in the following language on diplomatic literature: “For the most part it is nothing but paper and ink. If you wanted to utilize it for historical purposes, you could not get anything worth having out of it. I believe it is the rule to allow historians to consult the Foreign Office archives at the expiration of thirty years (after the date of despatches). They might be permitted to examine them much sooner, for the despatches and letters, when they contain any information at all, are quite unintelligible to those unacquainted with the persons and relations treated of in them.” In reporting this statement, Labouchere observes: “If all foreign office telegrams were published they would be curious reading.”[B] He also relates how his youthful efforts at secret diplomacy were received by the Foreign Office. He had succeeded at St. Petersburg in being able quite regularly, through the assistance of a laundress, to get from the government printing office loose sheets of confidential minutes of State Council meetings. When Lord John Russell discovered the method in which this interesting information was obtained, he put a stop to the simple intrigue; Labouchere concludes his account of this experience thus: “For what reason, I wonder, did Russell imagine diplomacy was invented?”

[B] He writes that when “I was an attaché at Stockholm, the
present Queen, the Duchess of Ostrogotha, had a baby, and
a telegram came from the Foreign Office desiring that Her
Majesty’s congratulations should be offered, and that she
should be informed how the mother and child were. The
Minister was away, so off I went to the Palace to convey
the message and to inquire about the health of the pair. A
solemn gentleman received me. I informed him of my orders,
and requested him to say what I was to reply. ‘Her Royal
Highness,’ he replied, ‘is as well as can be expected, but
His Royal Highness is suffering a little internally, and
it is believed that this is due to the fact of the milk
of his nurse having been slightly sour last evening.’ I
telegraphed this to the Foreign Office.”

The term “secret diplomacy” is during this period used in a special sense, referring to a secret intrigue on the part of a monarch or minister without the knowledge of those who have the public responsibility in the matter. Earlier monarchs often played their own game without informing their ministers and attempted to keep the threads of foreign intrigue in their own hands. Louis XV did great injury to his country by pursuing this method.

Napoleon III was a great offender in this respect. Not only was his international policy prone to unscrupulous attempts and proposals, but he acted in these matters frequently without informing those who were responsible before the country. Most of his secret advances to Bismarck were made entirely on his own responsibility; he did not inform the Foreign Minister, Ollivier, of the fateful instructions to Benedetti to the effect that he should demand of Prussia assurances that no German prince should ever again be suggested for the Spanish throne; his Mexican policy, too, was worked out by himself, in conjunction with the Duc de Morny and Jecker, the banker, rather than with his ministers. The disastrous consequences of the secret diplomacy of Napoleon III will be reverted to later on.

It has also repeatedly happened that envoys have incurred a strong suspicion of playing a political game of their own without the authorization or even the knowledge of their Foreign Minister. While a diplomatic representative in taking such action risks disavowal and dismissal, yet the temptation felt by a strong-willed man who is confident that he knows the local situation and the needs of his country there better than any one else, has often been too powerful to be resisted. When the unauthorized action has been successful in gaining some advantage, it has generally been condoned.[C] But though the home government is at all times able theoretically to disavow unauthorized actions of its foreign representatives, yet the latter through their self-willed acts may have set in motion forces which can no longer be controlled. Very often also doubt and confusion is cast on the real causes of important events and a general feeling of suspicion is thus generated.

[C] Frequently, indeed, ministers have been encouraged to make
certain démarches “on their own account”; if successful,
they could be sanctioned after the event. Such is the
procedure which Palmerston criticized in a letter to Lord
Clarendon (May 22, 1853):

“The Russian Government has always had two strings to its
bow--moderate language and disinterested professions at
Petersburg and at London; active aggression by its agents
on the scene of operations. If the aggressions succeed
locally, the Petersburg Government adopts them as a _fait
accompli_ which it did not intend, but cannot, in honor,
recede from. If the local agents fail, they are disavowed
and recalled, and the language previously held is appealed
to as a proof that the agents have overstepped their
instructions.”

One of the most self-willed of British Ministers was Stratford Canning (Lord Stratford de Redcliffe). It is generally accepted that his personal diplomacy at Constantinople, where he began his diplomatic career in 1808 and where he ended it in 1858 after various intervening missions, was one of the causes which brought on the Crimean war. After reciting that Lord Stratford constantly held private interviews with the Sultan and did his utmost to alarm him, urging him to reject accommodation with Russia, and promising him the armed assistance of England, John Bright stated that all this was done without instructions from the home government. Lord Clarendon wrote: “He is bent on war and on playing the first part in settling the great Eastern question.” When the war came on, Lord Granville wrote: “We have generals whom we do not trust, and whom we do not know how to replace. We have an Ambassador at Constantinople, an able man, a cat whom no one cares to bell, whom some think a principal cause of the war, others the cause of some of the calamities which have attended the conduct of the war; and whom we know to have thwarted or neglected many of the objects of his Government.”

Labouchere, who served under Lord Stratford in 1862, wrote afterwards that the despatches of Stratford during the Crimean war could not be recognized as the originals from which Mr. Kinglake drew his material for a narrative of the ambassador’s career.[D] He thought that Stratford’s great power at Constantinople was due to his long stay there which made it necessary for the Turks to remain on good terms with him. Labouchere also claims that Lord Stratford misled his own government by getting the Sultan to publish certain reform decrees which he would send home as evidence of good government, never explaining that such decrees were entirely dead letters.

[D] Labouchere wrote: “Lord Stratford was one of the most
detestable of the human race. He was arrogant, resentful
and spiteful. He hated the Emperor Nicholas because he had
declined to accept him as Ambassador to Russia and the
Crimean war was his revenge. In every way he endeavored to
envenom the quarrel and to make war certain.”

The danger and disadvantage of having a diplomat or ruler inject his personal ambitions and dislikes into his diplomacy have, unfortunately, been frequently exemplified. With respect to the causes of the Crimean war, it will be remembered that Napoleon III had a personal grudge against Emperor Nicholas who had addressed him “Sire and Good Friend” instead of “Brother” as is customary among monarchs. Though Napoleon answered him, acknowledging the compliment implied from the fact that one may choose one’s friends but not one’s brothers, yet he never forgot the slight.

Lord Palmerston as Foreign Minister quite openly regarded himself as a power independent not only of Parliament but of the Cabinet itself, and not bound to consult his colleagues provided he could justify himself later before the House of Commons. But when in December, 1851, he had entirely on his own responsibility approved the _coup d’état_ by which Napoleon III made himself emperor, Lord John Russell instantly dismissed him and thus vindicated the rule that the Foreign Minister must always pay regard to the joint responsibility of the Cabinet.

In 1861 a select committee of Parliament on the diplomatic service was appointed. It took evidence, among other things, on the existence of “secret diplomacy” in the British service. By this term was understood private correspondence or private action affecting the conduct of public affairs, which did not become part of the record in the ministry. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the Earl of Clarendon, Lord Cowley, and Lord John Russell, all gave evidence with respect to the conduct of business by private correspondence. They all seemed to agree that private correspondence between the Foreign Minister and the individual representatives abroad was useful and even necessary for supplementing the formal instructions and reports. But they stated their belief that whenever any such private correspondence should begin to affect the actual conduct of public affairs it would certainly get into the record; if, however, it should come to nothing, then it might not be referred to in public despatches.

IV

NAPOLEON III, DISRAELI, BISMARCK

We have so far been dealing primarily with the methods of diplomacy. During the old régime both the methods and the general policy of diplomatic action were controlled by the secret councils of the monarch and of a few ministers. With the growth of representative government public opinion began to concern itself more directly with foreign affairs. There grew up gradually, although with many relapses and with many breaks of continuity, a consensus that while the methods of diplomatic action might be secret, the general trend of policy should regularly be laid before the representatives of the people who should also be informed of any individual action involving the responsibilities of the nation. When, therefore, in contemplating the history of the last one hundred years, secret diplomacy is spoken of in condemnatory terms, the attempted secrecy of national foreign _policy_, rather than of methods, is usually thought of. When important engagements are undertaken which involve the nation in responsibility to others, particularly for the use of armed forces; when by a series of specific acts a tendency is given to foreign policy which is not avowed to the representatives of the people; then there exists secret diplomacy in a reprehensible sense. A further method of concealment works through a false statement of motives. Often narrowly selfish action has been camouflaged with the avowal of noble aims and high ideals; or there has been fencing for position in order that at the beginning of a war the opprobrium of being the assailant could be thrown on the other party. Undoubtedly sometimes statesmen may persuade themselves of the presence of high motives in matters in which their specific action or that of their successors, working with the same materials, takes on a contrary direction.

At the conclusion of the Crimean war, Lord Palmerston wrote to Lord Clarendon (March 1, 1867) as follows:

“... the alliance of England and France has derived its strength
not merely from the military and naval power of the two states,
but from the force of the moral principle upon which that union
has been founded. Our union has for its foundation resistance to
unjust aggression, the defence of the weak against the strong,
and the maintenance of the existing balance of power. How, then,
could we combine to become unprovoked aggressors, to imitate
in Africa the partition of Poland by the conquest of Morocco
for France, of Tunis and some other state for Sardinia, and of
Egypt for England? And, more especially, how could England and
France, who have guaranteed the integrity of the Turkish Empire,
turn round and wrest Egypt from the Sultan? A coalition for such
a purpose would revolt the moral feelings of mankind, and would
certainly be fatal to any English Government that was a party to
it. Then, as to the balance of power to be maintained by giving
us Egypt, but we do not want the burden of governing Egypt, and
its possession would not, as a political, military, and naval
question, be considered, in this country, as a set-off against
the possession of Morocco by France. Let us try to improve all
these countries by the general influence of our commerce, but let
us all abstain from a crusade of conquest which would call upon
us the condemnation of all other civilized nations.”

This program of liberal principles applied to foreign affairs, of high-toned and high-minded diplomacy, one reads with mixed feelings in view of the things which have come thereafter.

In the period between the Crimean and the Franco-Prussian war, Napoleon pursued a policy, or a series of policies, which fitly illustrate the worst features of secret diplomacy. In 1858 Napoleon III obtained from Cavour a promise that Savoy and Nice should be ceded to France. These arrangements, made without the knowledge or the desire of the French people, involved Napoleon in the war of 1859 and led to a fatal weakening of his position. In 1864 Napoleon secretly suggested to Prussia that she might take Schleswig-Holstein, thus greatly encouraging her to undertake the war of 1864. France at this time was under treaty obligations to Denmark which made such action doubly dishonest. When the war between Austria and Prussia broke out in 1866, Napoleon concluded a secret treaty with Austria which contained a bargain that he would assist Austria to recover Silesia in return for a cession of Venetia to Italy, to compensate the latter for Savoy and thus to eradicate the evil effects of the arrangement of 1858. As this treaty became known, it absolutely alienated Prussia from France. At the same time Napoleon had secretly demanded from Prussia the cession of the Rhenish Palatinate which belonged to Bavaria; this would mean of course that Prussia and France together would first have to take it from Bavaria. Bismarck secretly informed Bavaria of this demand and thus turned her decisively against Napoleon; so that he was enabled to make secret treaties of alliance not only with Bavaria but with Wurtemberg and Baden for their military support in case of war. Napoleon had thus managed unwittingly to bring about the coalition of German states which proved disastrous to him in 1870. Had the French government known of these three German treaties, it would probably have avoided war; as it was, France did not know that she would have all Germany against her. In 1866 Napoleon, through Benedetti, submitted to Bismarck a draft treaty according to which, in case the French Emperor should decide to send his troops to enter Belgium, the King of Prussia would grant armed aid to France and support her with all his forces, military and naval, in the face of and against every other power which might in this eventuality declare war. Though this draft treaty, which became known in Great Britain and caused high excitement there, was not adopted in this form, a secret compact was made between France and Prussia in 1867, one article of which stated that Prussia would not object to the annexation of Belgium by France. The fact that both of these powers had signed the treaty of 1839, guaranteeing the neutrality of Belgium, aggravates the noxiousness of this conspiracy. Early in 1870 Napoleon was secretly negotiating with Austria with a view to a joint war against North Germany. The negotiations were in progress when the war of 1870 broke out. Probably Bismarck was informed of what was going on and was therefore the more anxious to face at once what he considered an inevitable war. As already stated, Napoleon did not communicate to his responsible minister his decision to require of the King of Prussia the absolute assurance that no German prince should ever again be nominated for the throne of Spain. In doing so he put himself in a position where Bismarck could manœuver him into a dilemma from which there seemed no exit except war.

This was done by the famous editing of the Ems dispatch through which, taking advantage of King William’s permission to modify and eliminate, Bismarck gave to the report sent by the king the appearance that nothing further could be said between the king and the French envoy and that therefore the only alternative to the French was retreat or war. This act illustrates one of the most terrible dangers of secret diplomacy in that just at the time when inflammable material is at hand in abundance, one word or phrase may give a decisive turn to developments and force an issue, in a certain direction, without allowing a chance for calm consideration of all that is involved.

Bismarck considered that the unification of Germany required a war because only thus could the feeling of unity among the German people, until then divided into numerous small states, be molded into political oneness. But in bringing on the Franco-Prussian war, no matter how inevitable he might consider such a struggle, he was too confident of his ability to play the part of a Providence and to cut short the slow processes of historic development. Therefore, though he attempted to work in the interest of outstanding national factors, his policy was not of a nature to develop that public confidence in the aims of his nation on which alone a statesman can permanently build. His was the diplomacy of authority, often announcing its aims with great frankness, indeed, but always retaining the old method so that the public mind remained often in the dark. His politics directed German development into a dangerous course. He abhorred German disunion, but tried to cure it with means too forceful and artificial. The solutions brought about further problems. The taking of Alsace-Lorraine was the cause of future war. In 1871, Bismarck offered Mulhouse to Switzerland secretly, but the gift was declined. In the years after 1871, Bismarck always threatened Parliament with the danger of war whenever he wanted to put anything through.

The Russo-Turkish war of 1878, being in its nature a conflict about the merits of which only vague ideas could be current among the Western nations, produced a whole nest of secret treaties. The treaty of San Stefano itself was kept secret by Russia and Turkey. The British Foreign Secretary in a diplomatic note which was much admired at the time, demanded that the treaty must be submitted to the European powers.

Meanwhile a second secret treaty had been made between Russia and Austria wherein, as is customary in such transactions, “compensations” were distributed out of property belonging to neither of the contracting parties, at the cost of somebody else; it was agreed that Austria should have Bosnia and Herzegovina. Meanwhile the British Foreign Office, though it had just declaimed in indignant tones against the secret terms of San Stefano, made an agreement, equally secret, with Russia (May 30, 1878), concerning the points on which Great Britain would insist in the final adjustment. Through the wrongful action of an employee of the Foreign Office this agreement leaked out and a summary of it was published on May 31st. When questioned in the House of Lords, the Marquis of Salisbury, who at all times had a well-deserved reputation for sincerity, nevertheless qualified the statement in the _Globe_ as “wholly unauthenticated and not deserving of any confidence on the part of the House of Lords.” The full text of the agreement was published by the _Globe_ on June 14th, and when challenged by Lord Rosebery concerning his _dementi_, Lord Salisbury calmly stated: “I described it as unauthentic simply because it was so, and because no other adjective actually described it, and I shall be able to state why I so described it.” The explanation which followed was, however, quite lame, and consisted mainly in stating that the document as published did not give a complete view of the situation. The impression produced by these tactics was far from favorable. Lord Granville, with a great deal of justice, wanted to know “where the House of Lords would have been had it not been for the immoral action of the man who gave the secret treaty to the newspaper. They would have had blue books and copies of instructions, protocols and other documents, but they would have been perfectly duped as to the way in which the government had actually proceeded.”

But there followed another, a fourth secret treaty, growing out of the Turkish situation, an agreement between Great Britain and Turkey concluded on June 4th, at Constantinople. As a result of erroneous information having been telegraphed from Constantinople by Mr. Layard, the British envoy, to the effect that in spite of the armistice the Russians were moving on Constantinople, a large war credit was voted in the British House, although against the opposition of the Liberals under Gladstone and Bright. Orders were also given to the Indian Government to send troops to Cyprus. A secret treaty was then concluded in which Great Britain received a protectorate over Cyprus in return for the engagement on her part to protect the Asiatic domains of Turkey. Never was the blood of a nation without its own knowledge and consent risked in a more doubtful adventure than in this famous transaction of Lord Beaconsfield. Gladstone, on July 20th, analyzed the treaty as providing for three things: the occupation and annexation of Cyprus, the defense of Turkey in Asia against any attempt Russia may make (“to go two thousand miles from your own country, alone and single handed, in order to prevent Russia making war at any time upon Turkey in Asia”), and responsibility for the government of Turkish territory in Asia; and all that was undertaken without the consent and knowledge of the British people, to be done at their expense by the blood of their children. Mr. Gladstone concluded: “There is but one epithet which I think fully describes a covenant of this kind. I think it is an insane covenant.”

Disraeli had formerly said of Palmerston: “With no domestic policy, he is obliged to divert the attention of the people from the consideration of their own affairs to the distraction of foreign politics. His scheme of conduct is so devoid of all political principle that when forced to appeal to the people, his only claim to their confidence is his name.” The same language could with equal justice have been applied to Beaconsfield himself. His speeches in defense of his foreign policy are usually a superficial appeal to imperialist passion, and deal in such phrases as “What is our duty at this critical moment?” “To maintain the empire of England.” (Loud cheers.) “Empire” is taken for granted as covering everything desirable, but the actual relationship of these adventurous foreign policies to the welfare and true development of the English people is never reasoned out.

While Beaconsfield had opposed the first Afghan war, he readily changed his views when he came into power and began the second war in 1878 on the avowed ground that the Ameer had refused to receive a British mission. But with a sudden change of tactics, at a dinner at the Mansion House on November 9, Lord Beaconsfield solemnly announced that the war had been made because the frontier of India was “a haphazard and not a scientific one.” Yet a little before, when condemning the first Afghan war, he had described the frontiers of India as “a perfect barrier.” He did not give to any organization of public opinion a chance to influence him in this matter, or even to be heard. On December 9, Lord Derby said in the House of Lords: “We are discussing, and we know we are discussing, an issue upon which we have no real or practical influence.”

V

TRIPLE ALLIANCE DIPLOMACY AND MOROCCO

Toward the end of the nineteenth century the dominating development in the diplomacy of Europe was the actual formation of the two great alliances--the Triple Alliance created by Bismarck, and the Russo-French Alliance which had come into being in 1896 as a counterpoise to the former. The treaties upon which these alliances rested were made secretly; they were part of an authoritative policy based on the theory of balance of power. The texts of the Triple Alliance Treaty were not published until after the beginning of the Great War. The so-called Counter-Insurance Treaty with Russia by which Bismarck attempted to stabilize the situation and isolate France through a mutual neutrality agreement between Russia, Austria and Germany, was one of the most characteristic examples of complicated methods followed by the old diplomacy; it was, of course, also kept secret. When after Bismarck’s retirement the German Government did not renew this secret treaty, it made possible a fundamental change in the grouping of powers with the result that Russia, after a very short interval, identified herself with France in the Dual Alliance.

While Bismarck had been in control of German diplomacy, the main lines of German foreign policy were kept quite clear and their general direction was definite, no matter how complicated and indirect were the means frequently applied to carry it out. Emperor William II sought to free himself from the tutelage of the powerful Chancellor, but from then on the orientation of German diplomacy was far from definite. No one could be clear where its main objective lay; it seemed to seek expansion of influence in Asia Minor, the Far East, Morocco, South Africa, and almost everywhere, even with the inclusion of South America. Germany appeared to have many irons in the fire, although meanwhile she did not make much progress in any specific direction. This uncertainty of her diplomatic aims in an increasing manner aroused the apprehension of her neighbors; none of them felt any assurance about what Germany actually wanted. That her actual wants may not have been unreasonable, that she herself apparently did not know exactly which of her interests should predominate, did not help matters; all those who had more possessions than she felt themselves endangered, and a general suspicion and lack of confidence resulted.

In the years after the Chino-Japanese war the German Government showed a great desire to play a prominent part in Far Eastern affairs. Thus, it took the lead in bringing about the joint intervention of Russia, France and Germany, which obliged Japan to surrender Port Arthur, a part of the spoils of war just taken from China. The three powers who had thus come to the rescue, however, forthwith proceeded to exact from China an enormous commission for their good offices, and forced her to make to them grants of lease-holds and other concessions, in which was included the very territory that they had rescued from Japan. In this keen onset, which amounted to an attempt to divide up the Chinese Empire, Great Britain in her turn also participated. The Far Eastern situation was rendered decidedly unstable, and the frantic and unorganized resistance of the Boxer levies was the result.

After the settlement of these troubles, in 1901, the German Government, as we now know, tentatively suggested the formation of an alliance including Great Britain and Japan. This proposal shows how far German diplomacy at the time had departed from the fundamentals of policy under Bismarck. Japan proceeded most assiduously to work on this suggestion, but Germany was left out when the highly important Anglo-Japanese Alliance was secured by the Japanese Minister in London. Negotiations between Great Britain and Japan were carried on with the greatest secrecy. Lord Lansdowne himself seems at one time to have been very anxious for prompt action; he said to Count Hayashi, as reported by the latter, that “there was great danger in delay, as the news of the proposed treaty might leak out and objections might then be raised.”

It is significant that while Lord Lansdowne and Count Hayashi were in the depth of their negotiations, Marquis Ito, on his return journey from the United States, proceeded to Russia and, entirely in opposition to the express judgment of Count Hayashi, “plunged into conversations on the most delicate of matters” at St. Petersburg. In fact, the Japanese Government allowed almost identical secret negotiations to be carried on in London and St. Petersburg at the same time. Count Hayashi considered this procedure as implying “a lack of faith and a breach of honor.” When the Anglo-Japanese treaty had been actually signed it was, through the indiscretion of some official, published in Japan three days too soon. The Japanese Foreign Office promptly denied its existence, and Baron Rosen, the Russian Minister at Tokyo, who no doubt knew of the Ito negotiations at St. Petersburg, very emphatically denied the very possibility of such a treaty. The effect on Russia of the truth when it became known there, can be readily imagined. In the Anglo-Japanese treaty, England, which had recently joined in the solemn guarantee of the integrity of China and of the independence of Korea, made engagements scarcely consistent with either.

Lord Rosebery, in a public address, October, 1905, expressed his sense of the great importance of this treaty. “The treaty,” he said, “is an engine of tremendous power and tremendous liability. Whatever else is certain, this at least is sure, that it will lead to countless animosities, many counter intrigues, and possibly hostile combinations. But I want to point out to you the enormous importance of the engagements in which this treaty involves you, the reactions which it will cause elsewhere, and to bid you to be vigilant and prepared, and not negligent, as sometimes you are, of the vast bearings of your foreign policy.”

The German Emperor, having failed to obtain a treaty with England, now turned to his Russian cousin with the design of inducing him to make an alliance. The Willy-Nicky correspondence which was published by the Russian Revolutionary Government in 1917, as well as the memoirs of Isvolsky, give us a complete insight into the action of William II in this matter. The correspondence shows that Emperor William neglected no means of arousing resentment and suspicion of England in the mind of Nicholas, particularly in attempting to show a complicity of England with Japan in the war against Russia. In November, 1904, William proposed the immediate signature by Russia, without the knowledge of France, of a defensive treaty of alliance, evidently directed against Great Britain. France was to be invited to join _after_ the signature by Germany and Russia. The Czar, however, insisted that he could not entertain this proposal without first submitting it to his ally. William, in a long telegram, argued insistently upon the danger of informing France before the signature. He said: “Only the absolute, undeniable knowledge that we are both bound by the treaty to give mutual aid to each other, can induce France to exercise pressure upon England to remain tranquil and in peace, for fear of placing France in a dangerous situation. Should France know that a German-Russian agreement is simply in preparation and not yet signed, she would immediately inform England. England and Japan would then forthwith attack Germany.” Therefore, William concluded that if the Czar should persist in refusing to sign the treaty without the previous consent of France, it would be better not to attempt making an agreement at all. He stated that he had spoken only to Prince Buelow about it, and that as undoubtedly the Czar had spoken only to Count Lamsdorff, the foreign minister, it would be easy to keep it an absolute secret. He then congratulated the Czar on having concluded a secret agreement of neutrality with Austria. As a matter of fact, Count Lamsdorff had not been informed by the Czar of the Emperor’s proposal.

In the summer of 1905, Emperor William returned to the charge, taking advantage of the discouragement of the Czar due to many external and internal troubles resulting from the Japanese war. He visited the Czar at the Island Bjorkoe in July, and used every resource of his personal influence to prevail on Nicholas. This time he succeeded, and the two sovereigns signed a secret treaty of alliance, which contained four articles to the following effect:

(1) If any European state shall attack either of the empires the allied party engages itself to aid with all its forces on land and sea.

(2) The contracting parties will not conclude a separate peace.

(3) The present agreement comes in force at the moment of conclusion of peace between Russia and Japan, and may be denounced with one year’s notice.

(4) When the treaty has come into force Russia will take the necessary steps to inform France and to propose to her to adhere to it as an ally.

On this occasion the Emperor was accompanied by Von Tschirsky, who soon after became German Foreign Minister and who countersigned the agreement. The Russian Foreign Minister was not present but Admiral Birileff, the Minister of the Navy, was called in to countersign the Czar’s signature. After his return to St. Petersburg, the Czar allowed fifteen days to pass before informing Count Lamsdorff. When informed, the Czar’s advisers took a very strong position against the agreement, with the result that notwithstanding the insistent arguments of Emperor William, who in his telegram signed himself “Your friend and ally,” the treaty was never given full force. William strongly appealed to the gratefulness of the Czar for having stood by him during the Japanese war, at a time when, “as afterwards the indiscretions of Delcassé have shown, although allied to Russia, France had nevertheless made an agreement with England to attack Germany without warning, in time of peace.” The latter phrase gives the effect upon William’s mind of all he knew or believed to know about the arrangements concluded between France and Great Britain concerning Morocco.

The Moroccan intrigues and secret negotiations, during the first decade of the twentieth century, contributed in no small measure to rendering international relations strained and generating a general sense of insecurity and suspicion. In July, 1901, a protocol was signed between the Sultan of Morocco and the French Government in which the latter declared its respect for the integrity of Morocco. At the same time M. Delcassé began secret negotiations with Spain for a delimitation of spheres of influence in that country. In September, 1902, the first Franco-Spanish secret treaty concerning Morocco was given its final form. It was, however, not ratified because of British opposition at the time. In 1904, the formation of the Anglo-French Entente agreement, in which the French Government declared that it had no intention “of altering the political status of Morocco,” was accompanied by the conclusion of a secret understanding concerning Morocco which was not revealed until 1911. According to the terms of that agreement the British Government was to be informed of any understanding on Morocco which might be concluded between France and Spain. These two countries, in fact, on October 3, 1904, consummated a convention for the partition of Morocco into spheres of influence. A copy of this secret agreement was given to Lord Lansdowne, the British Foreign Minister, who wrote, in acknowledging it: “I need not say that the confidential character of the Convention entered into by the President of the French Republic and the King of Spain in regard to French and Spanish interests in Morocco is fully recognized by us, and will be duly respected.”

The German Government, which had been ignored, now suggested the holding of an international conference. After considerable opposition the conference met at Algeciras, in February, 1906. The Powers represented there again solemnly recognized the independence and integrity of Morocco. Meanwhile, various incidents were brought on by the actions of French and Spanish commissaries in Morocco. The French parliament repeatedly reiterated its intention to observe the act of Algeciras, particularly in the declaration of February, 1909, regarding Morocco, in which declaration Germany joined. In 1911, events happened which induced a serious European crisis. The French Government undertook military operations against Fez, the capital of Morocco, on the ground that the foreign colony there was in danger. In reply to questions in the House of Commons, Sir Edward Grey confirmed that such measures were being undertaken by the French Government “for the succor of Europeans in Fez.” He added: “The action taken by France is not intended to alter the political status of Morocco, and His Majesty’s Government cannot see why any objection should be taken to it.”

The facts of the Fez affair have been thus described by the French publicist, Francis de Pressensé:

“At this point the Comité du Maroc and its organs surpassed
themselves. They organized a campaign of systematic untruth.
Masters of almost the entire press, they swamped the public with
false news. Fez was represented as threatened by siege or sack.
A whole European French Colony was suddenly discovered there,
living in anguish. The ultimate fate of the women and children
was described in the most moving terms.... At all costs the
Europeans--the Sultan, Fez itself must be saved.... As ever from
the beginning of this enterprise, the Government knew nothing,
willed nothing of itself.”

While these events were happening, the Foreign Offices both in Paris and London failed to give any information concerning the aims which underlay the action taken. On May 23d, Mr. Dillon in the House of Commons asked to what extent England was committed to this “ill-omened and cruel expedition.” The Foreign Secretary replied, “We are not committed at all.” The French Foreign Minister declared at the same time that he had never heard of any treaty with Spain concerning Morocco.

When the international crisis came to a head suddenly in July, 1911, through the disconcerting action of the German Government in sending a war vessel to Agadir, the public was totally taken by surprise and was absolutely in the dark as to the issues and interests involved as well as to the commitments which had been made by the British and French foreign offices. The text of the secret treaty between France and Spain had, however, now been secured by the Paris papers _Le Temps_ and _Le Matin_. This revelation led to party attacks on secret diplomacy in the British House of Commons and in the French Parliament. Baron d’Estournelles de Constant, in February, 1912, said:

... “Why was the French Parliament told only half the truth
when it was asked to pass its opinion upon our arrangement with
England? Why was it allowed to suspect that this arrangement had
as its complement and corrective some secret clauses and other
secret treaties? It is this, it is this double game towards
Parliament and towards the world which becomes morally an abuse
of trust.... Now the whole effort of the arrangement of 1904
appears to-day in its truth and in its vanity. It was a treaty of
friendship with England recognizing the freedom of our political
action in Morocco and also proclaiming our will to respect the
integrity of that country; that was what the public knew and
approved. But the public was ignorant that at the same time, by
other Treaties and by contradictory clauses hidden from it, the
partition of Morocco between Spain and France was prepared, of
that Morocco of which we guaranteed the integrity.”

In the House of Commons, Mr. John Dillon charged that “the Foreign Office policy has become during the last ten years progressively more secret every year. For ten years the foreign policy of this country has been conducted behind an elaborate screen of secrecy.”

VI

ENTENTE DIPLOMACY

As the commitments of the British Government gradually became more and more known the question arose as to how deeply and extensively Great Britain had been involved in continental affairs. Lord Rosebery, who was uninformed, with the rest of Parliament and the public, as to the actual details, said in a speech at Glasgow in January, 1912:

“This we do know about our foreign policy, that, for good or for
evil, we are now embraced in the midst of the Continental system.
That I regard as perhaps the gravest fact in the later portion of
my life. We are, for good or for evil, involved in a Continental
system, the merits of which I do not pretend to judge, because
I do not know enough about it, but which, at any rate, may at
any time bring us into conflict with armies numbering millions,
and our own forces would hardly be counted in such a war as they
stand at present.”

Lord Rosebery realized perhaps more fully than most of the leaders of English public life the complications adherent to what had already become public knowledge at the time.

Meanwhile the government, in Parliament, confined itself to plain denials whenever the matter of international undertakings and obligations of a general nature was brought up. The denials could be justified from the point of view that the situation as stated by the uninformed questioner in Parliament, in each case did not exactly correspond to the facts. But the impression created by such denials that no serious obligations had been incurred was, as the result showed, entirely misleading.

On March 8, 1911, Mr. Jowett asked in the House of Commons whether any undertaking, promise or understanding had been given to France that in certain eventualities British troops would be sent to coöperate with the French army. The Undersecretary of State for Foreign Affairs replied: “The answer is in the negative.” On December 6, 1911, the Prime Minister said:

“As has been stated, there were no secret engagements with France
other than those that have now been published, and there are no
secret engagements with any foreign Government that entail upon
us any obligation to render military or naval assistance to any
other Power.”

Upon another occasion Mr. Yerburgh, M.P., inquired:

“May I ask whether or not we are to understand that the
Government arrived at no decision upon this particular question?
Is the right honorable gentleman not aware that this new
definition of the two-Power standard is a question of supreme
importance, and that in arriving at our standard of naval
strength previous Governments had regard to the power of the
fleets of other countries?”

The Prime Minister replied only:

“I think this question shows the inconvenience of dealing with
these matters by way of question and answer.”

In December, 1912, Lord Hugh Cecil made the following inquiry:

“There is a very general belief that this country is under an
obligation, not a treaty obligation, but an obligation arising
out of an assurance given by the Ministry in the course of
diplomatic negotiations, to send a very large armed force out of
this country to operate in Europe. That is the general belief. It
would be very presumptuous of any one who has not access to all
the facts in possession of the Government--”

The Prime Minister interrupted him with: “I ought to say that it is not true.” Lord Cecil thereupon expressed his satisfaction for having elicited this explanation, “because,” he stated, “it was certainly widely believed that the Government has engaged in a military policy of an adventurous kind and that if such a policy had actually been contemplated by the Government it would involve a very serious consideration of the military resources of the country.” As a matter of fact, the latter was a just conclusion from the actual situation as it really existed, notwithstanding the denial by the Prime Minister.

In March, 1913, when during the discussion of the Navy estimates, the Mediterranean situation came up, Lord Beresford suggested that Mr. Churchill (First Lord of the Admiralty) must be trusting to France the duty of guarding the Mediterranean. Mr. Churchill had said in the course of these discussions: “In conjunction with the Navy of France, our Mediterranean Fleet would make a combined force superior to all possible combinations.” Sir C. Kinloch-Cooke referred to this as a remarkable statement, and one “somewhat difficult to reconcile with the recent pronouncement of the Prime Minister as to our understanding with France in the matter of armaments.” He added: “In one case we have the Prime Minister repudiating an obligation on our side of any kind, and in the other we have the First Lord of the Admiralty relying for the safety of our Eastern Empire, our trade and our food supply, upon the assistance which he presumes will be ready at any moment to be given to us by France.”

On March 24, 1913, Mr. Asquith, Prime Minister, made a comprehensive answer to a question of Sir W. Byles in the following terms:

“As has been repeatedly stated, this country is not under any
obligation, not public and known to Parliament, which compels
it to take part in a war. In other words, if war arises between
European Powers, there are no unpublished agreements which will
restrict or hamper the freedom of the Government or Parliament to
decide whether or not Great Britain should participate in a war.”

In August, 1913, Lord Haldane made a statement to the effect that the very friendly relationships with France rendered the situation in the Mediterranean most satisfactory. On June 11, 1914, this same general matter was up again for discussion. Sir Edward Grey, in answering a question, referred back to the statement made by Mr. Asquith on March 24, 1913, and added: “It remains as true to-day as it was a year ago.”

The nation was meanwhile left entirely in the dark with respect to the actual matter of the relationships which had developed between Great Britain and France, and it was only after the Great War had broken out that Sir Edward Grey, in his speech of August 3, 1914, gave to Parliament some account of what had actually happened.

The first important step in the new international policy of Great Britain was taken immediately after the Liberal Government had been formed on December 12, 1905. It appears that Sir Edward Grey consulted in this matter particularly Mr. Asquith and Lord Haldane, informing the Prime Minister, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, but not his other Cabinet colleagues. The above three men were the leaders of the Liberal Imperialist faction, and it is not at all certain that in an aggressive foreign policy they would have been at that moment readily followed by their whole party.

When in consequence of the attempted division of Morocco, relations between France and Germany became somewhat strained, Sir Edward Grey, Foreign Minister, made communications to the French Ambassador to the effect that, while no promises could be given to any Foreign Power, yet in Sir Edward Grey’s opinion, if war was then forced upon France on the question of Morocco, public opinion in England would rally to the material support of France. Sir Edward Grey, as related in his own words, said: “I made no promises and I used no threats, but I expressed that opinion.” The accuracy of that opinion has been questioned, in view of the temper of the House of Commons elected at a time when resentment at the imperialist war in South Africa was powerful.

On the basis of the statement made by Sir Edward Grey, the French Government said to the British Foreign Minister, as reported by him:

“If you think it possible that the public opinion of Great
Britain might, should a sudden crisis arise, justify you in
giving to France the armed support which you cannot promise in
advance, you will not be able to give that support, even if you
wish it when the time comes, unless some conversations have
already taken place between naval and military experts.”

Sir Edward Grey saw merit in this proposal and agreed to it. He authorized that conversations should take place, but with the distinct understanding that nothing which would bind either Government should occur. However, the holding of conversations between two Powers concerning military coöperation is in itself a sufficiently serious matter out of which expectations and relationships are apt to arise that cannot be overlooked in future action. The Cabinet was not informed of the authorization given by Sir Edward Grey until later. He did not state how much later.