Chapter III: Part 3

We know from official sources that Colonel Barnardiston proceeded to Belgium and had interviews with the Chief of the Belgian General Staff concerning combined operations in the event of a German attack directed against Antwerp. Colonel Barnardiston confided to the Belgian Chief of Staff that his Government intended to move the British base of supplies from the French coast to Antwerp as soon as the North Sea had been cleared of all German warships. When the Belgian documents were published in Germany, it was attempted by the press to represent these conversations as an actual convention. These consultations occurred during the first quarter of 1906.

From an official source comes the statement that in July, 1911, the British Government informed the German, that on certain contingencies, Great Britain would support France (if Germany should demand the whole of French-Congo and Agadir as a naval base). What actually happened at this time has never been fully revealed.

In April, 1912, the British military attaché at Brussels informed the Belgian General Jungbluth that Great Britain had 160,000 men available for despatch to the continent, and added that the British Government in certain contingencies during recent events would have immediately landed troops on Belgian territory.

About this time the Cabinet had a discussion of the whole situation and of the special relationship with France; and it was decided that there should be some definite expression in writing, of the latter. Accordingly, in November, 1912, an exchange of notes took place between Sir Edward Grey and the French Ambassador. The British Foreign Minister wrote the following letter:

Nov. 22nd (1912).

“MY DEAR AMBASSADOR:

“From time to time in recent years the French and British Naval
and Military experts have consulted together. It has always
been understood that such consultation does not restrict the
freedom of either Government to decide at any future time
whether or not to assist the other by armed force. We have
agreed that consultation between experts is not and ought not to
be regarded as an engagement that commits either Government to
action in a contingency that has not yet arisen and may never
arise. The disposition, for instance, of the French and British
fleets respectively at the present moment is not based upon
an engagement to coöperate in war. You have, however, pointed
out that if either Government had grave reason to expect an
unprovoked attack by a third Power it might become essential
to know whether it could in that event depend upon the armed
assistance of the other. I agree that if either Government had
grave reason to expect an unprovoked attack by a third Power,
or something that threatened the general peace, it should
immediately discuss with the other whether both Governments
should act together to prevent aggression and to preserve peace,
and, if so, what measures they would be prepared to take in
common. If these measures involved action, the plans of the
General Staffs would at once be taken into consideration and the
Governments would then decide what effect should be given to
them.”

A reply from the French Ambassador accepted this understanding.

Side by side with the Anglo-French military and naval collaboration, there went the making of joint plans by France and Russia which culminated in the Franco-Russian military convention of August, 1912. At the same time Russia had pressed upon France the need of increasing her army by raising the term of service to three years. Concerning the new disposal of the French fleet, according to the desires of Russia, President Poincaré stated to Ambassador Isvolsky in November, 1912:

“This decision has been made in agreement with England, and forms
the further development and completion of arrangements already
made previously between the French and English staffs.”

Thus the chain of coöperation was completed, and England was effectively tied up with the situation in the Balkans, in which only Russia had a primary interest.

Meanwhile, the repeated denials previously set forth kept the British Parliament and public from all knowledge of the exceedingly important relationships which were growing up between the Naval and Military establishments of Great Britain and France.

How these relationships, though only partially known and suspected, were looked upon by outsiders is shown from expressions in the reports of Belgian diplomats. Count de Lalaing wrote from London in 1907: “England is quietly pursuing a policy opposed to Germany and aimed at her isolation.” Baron Greindl wrote from Berlin in 1908: “Call it alliance or what you will, the grouping constitutes, none the less, a diminution of Germany’s security.” Baron Guillaume wrote, in 1911, from Paris: “I have less faith in the desire of Great Britain for peace. She would not be sorry to see the others eat one another up.” These expressions are not, of course, evidences of British policy, but simply of the impression which whatever leaked out concerning that policy, made upon outside diplomats.

In his clear and convincing analysis of the situation created by the gradual formation in secret, of these relationships, Lord Loreburn brings out the following points: Through the communications with the French Ambassador and military and naval conversations concerning plans for joint action, France was encouraged more and more to expect that Great Britain would stand by her in arms if she were attacked by Germany. Such a policy of a defensive understanding with France, no matter how right in itself, was obviously a new departure of tremendous importance. Its execution and effectiveness could be assured only if understood by Parliament as a national policy, with all the risks involved, so that proper preparations could be made. Parliament was, however, never warned of the danger England stood of being thrown suddenly into a European war. Had Germany been told in July, 1914, that Great Britain would support France and Russia, the war would undoubtedly have been prevented; but while the ministers had in fact incurred moral obligations over against France, they had not assured themselves of the necessary Parliamentary support and could therefore not make a statement involving such risk as the above declaration to Germany would have created.

Of Sir Edward Grey’s speech of the 3rd of August, 1914, Lord Loreburn says:

“This remarkable speech began with an elaborate effort to prove
that the House of Commons was perfectly free to determine either
for peace or war. It ended with a passionate declaration that
this country would be disgraced if we did not declare war, and
the reasoning of the speech proved that Sir Edward Grey had
committed himself irretrievably. It left the House of Commons
convinced that it had in honor no choice but to join France in
arms. It is an epitome of the reasoning by which Sir Edward Grey
had been brought to believe that he could say and do what he said
and did without limiting his freedom of action. But if this is
legitimate we ought not to keep up the pretense that we are a
self-governing nation in foreign affairs.”

Thus a minister, to whom national intrigue and duplicity were essentially foreign, who was trusted by his country and who wanted peace, was brought by the methods of secret diplomacy into a position where he had actually incurred the moral obligation to assist another country without having the power for peace which the ability to avow that relationship openly, to take the responsibility, and to confront Germany therewith, would have given him.

As early as November, 1911, Lord Lansdowne, one of the founders of the Entente, in speaking of the secret agreement of 1904 concerning Morocco, which had then just become known to the public, had admitted that in such a case the promise of purely diplomatic support might easily bring on the obligation to assist in other ways; that an entente cordiale creates close relationships between two countries; and that, should one of them get into difficulties without its guilt, it would expect to receive support.

The moral responsibilities in which the Foreign Minister had involved the British Government were not simple, nor did they exist against France alone. Because of the Franco-Russian alliance the relationship established between Great Britain and France virtually involved sharing in the defense of France against the consequences of her alliance with Russia, as the subsequent events showed; any serious situation arising in the Balkans and affecting Russian interests would thereafter involve France, and through her, Great Britain. Accordingly, the effect of this policy was to make the peace of Great Britain depend upon, and to involve it with, the complex struggle for influence in the Balkans.

After Sir Edward Grey’s speech of August 3rd, Mr. T. Edmund Harvey, M.P., said: “I am convinced that this war for the great masses of the countries of Europe is no peoples’ war. It is a war that has been made by men in high places, by diplomatists working in secret, by bureaucrats out of touch with the people, by men who are a remnant of an older evil civilization.”

Lord Loreburn sums up his indictment of secret diplomacy in the following language: “Secret diplomacy has undergone its ‘acid test’ in this country. It had every chance. The voice of party was silent. The Foreign Minister was an English gentleman whom the country trusted and admired, who was wholly free from personal enmities of every kind, and who wanted peace. And secret diplomacy utterly failed. It prevented us from finding some alternative for war, and it prevented us from being prepared for war, because secret diplomacy means diplomacy aloof from Parliament.” The issue is here quite clearly stated. Those who see in the methods and spirit of the old diplomacy the chief cause of war, do not hold, on the one hand, that secret diplomacy involves at all times and in all cases unscrupulous plotting. But they believe that the method of dealing with foreign affairs as a mysterious matter, fit to be handled only by the select, and the reliance on a policy of bargains and compensations, with the aim thus artificially to maintain a balance of power, may be blamed for this great catastrophe; for they stood in the way of dealing with great public affairs in a sounder manner, that is, with more regard of the actual public interest and of the underlying racial and popular factors.

Those British critics who have attacked this method as practised in their own country before and during the war, do not thereby mean to impute to British statesmen a major share in the responsibility for the war. The high-mindedness and public spirit of the responsible statesmen is recognized by all fair critics, and most of them imply that Great Britain has far less to fear from this system than have nations with less responsible governments and a less sound tradition of statesmanship. They attack the system as a whole as it exists throughout European diplomacy, and as it has been used by the British Government.

From the point of view of historic evidence, and of strict reasoning from cause to effect, a great deal of doubt still remains as to how far secret diplomacy in itself,--that is, the failure to publish to parliament and the people, details of the situation as it developed,--could properly be considered the specific cause of the war; no matter how definite may be our judgment and belief that the secrecy and tortuousness of foreign policy are bound to generate an air of uncertainty and suspicion which will so greatly favor militarist intrigues and influence as to render the making of wars far more easy than they would otherwise be, were time and opportunity given to the public to consider the details of a critical situation. Yet it might be difficult to prove by historic evidence, the specific proposition that the war of 1914 was directly due to the fact that the development of international affairs was quite generally kept from the knowledge of the public. Nevertheless, unquestionably the atmosphere of secret diplomacy is a medium exactly suited to the most baneful influences.

Viscount Haldane has made a strong defense of the policy of Sir Edward Grey. He asserts that “the failure of those who had to make the effort to keep the peace, does not show that they would have done better had they discussed delicate details in public.” He continues: “There are topics and conjunctures in the almost daily changing relations between Governments as to which silence is golden. For however proper it may be in point of broad principle that the people should be fully informed of what concerns them vitally, the most important thing is that those to whom they have confided their concerns should be given the best chance of success in averting danger to their interests. To have said more in Parliament and on the platform in the years in question, or to have said it otherwise, would have been to run grave risks of more than one sort.” This defense, however, also makes certain assumptions, particularly the underlying one that the war was not to be avoided by any method. It is based on the traditional concept of foreign affairs which considers that it is best to leave them at the discretion of a few initiated and responsible officials. There can be no question that from the highest plane conceivable under the older ideas and norms of diplomacy, the conduct of foreign relations by Sir Edward Grey must be considered as a model of sagacity and caution. But when Lord Cromer describes the secret arrangements concerning Morocco as “a wise measure of preventive diplomacy,” it is not easy to follow him.

VII

THE CRISIS OF 1914

If secret diplomacy exhibits its drawbacks even in a country where parliamentary government is so highly developed as in England and where political intelligence and independence of judgment exist, we shall not be surprised at the continuous prevalence of devious methods in diplomacy in countries where the conduct of foreign affairs is considered quite frankly a matter only for the initiated, and where little pretense is made of an appeal to public opinion except in the sense of holding it in subjection by vague general ideas of national danger, necessity, and honor. The main faults of German diplomacy were due to its bureaucratic point of view and its lack of contact with public opinion, both at home and abroad. It was distinctly an expression of the authoritative will of the state, guided by a supposed inner knowledge of its dangers and needs, but without any real effort to strengthen itself through contact with the public mind. The Reichstag was indeed occasionally informed of foreign developments, perhaps as frequently as in England, but there was no real mutual influence between the nation and the officials conducting foreign affairs. As has already been pointed out, German diplomacy failed to reassure either the neighbors or the people of Germany; its lack of clear objectives was puzzling and disquieting. It was also hurt by its constant, evident dependence on what should have been only the very last resort--military force. A further disquieting characteristic of German politics was that there seemed to be a cynical approval of certain courses of action which might indeed resemble what some other nations were doing, but which were treated by the latter rather as regrettable necessities. Thus there is, for instance, the conception of _Realpolitik_, of which Frederick the Great’s statement is an extreme instance: “Before declaring my intentions I consider on the one side the adverse incidents which I must risk; on the other, the good fortune which I might hope; and after thorough consideration of pro and con, I decide for war.”

Coming now to the fateful crisis of 1914, it would appear that at this time a great danger was allowed to grow up without the men in control of the government giving themselves a full account as to the fatal probabilities involved, whereas the parliament and the public remained entirely uninformed. Germany had always more or less backed her Austrian ally in the Balkan policy of the latter. Bismarck had indeed been very cautious in this respect, and had been fully aware of the danger inherent in such a policy, of committing Germany through giving Austria too much head. When the Servian question became acute, the heads of the German Government were indeed so reckless in encouraging strong Austrian action as to justify the impression that they desired to push Austria-Hungary into a conflict. It would, however, appear, from a full study of all the data which is now possible, that the Kaiser and Bethmann-Hollweg were quite optimistic in believing that the conflict could be localized and that the solution could be left to Austria and Servia. When it was beginning to become quite clear that Russia would in this instance not stand aside and that therefore France, too, would be thrown into the conflict, the German Chancellor began to make belated efforts to induce Austria to accept the mediation of the Powers on the basis that Belgrade should be occupied to assure compliance with the Servian promises. The Austrian premier, Count Berchtold, however, was not inclined to reverse his engines. He took advantage of the encouragement given to Austria in the first place, to persist in an irreconcilable attitude toward Servia. The documentary material which has so far been published, shows that Berchtold insinuated to the Russian and British embassies that he was favorable to mediation; meanwhile, he did not answer the proposals to that effect made from Berlin, but in fact stubbornly pursued his stern policy against Servia. In turning a deaf ear to all proposals of mediation at this time, Berchtold gave the militarists at Berlin and Petrograd the control of the situation.

Berchtold had inherited the Balkan policy of Aehrenthal, who had in 1909 carried out the ambition of laying the two Slavic Provinces, Bosnia and Herzegovina, “at the feet of Emperor Francis Joseph at his Sixtieth Jubilee.” Count Berchtold himself was not considered a man of strong initiative; he vacillated and was undecided upon questions of great moment; he, however, displayed great stubbornness on the fatal point that the “honor” of Austria-Hungary did not permit of any mediation with Servia. Count Forgach, who was his chief adviser, hated Russia and Servia intensely, and it is believed that he was very influential in spurring Count Berchtold to aggressive action. Countess Leutrum holds him responsible for the war, “next to Aehrenthal.” The German Ambassador at Vienna, Von Tschirsky, also harbored a great deal of personal resentment against Russia. There would appear to be great reason to doubt whether such efforts as Bethmann-Hollweg made to urge moderation upon Berchtold were strongly emphasized by the personal influence of the German ambassador. Count Czernin states that all of Herr von Tschirsky’s private speeches at this time were attuned to “Now or Never,” and he asserts that the German ambassador declared his opinion to be “that at the present moment Germany was prepared to support our point of view with all her moral and military power, but whether this would prove to be the case in future if we accepted the Serbian rebuff appears to me doubtful.” Count Czernin believes that Tschirsky in particular was firmly persuaded that in the very near future Germany would have to go through a war against France and Russia, and that he considered the year 1914 would be more favorable than a later date. Count Czernin adds: “For this reason, because first of all he did not believe in the fighting capacity of either Russia or France, and secondly, because--and this is a very important point--he was convinced that he could bring the Monarchy into this war, while it appeared doubtful to him that the aged and peace-loving Emperor Francis Joseph would draw the sword for Germany on any other occasion where the action would center less round him, he wished to make use of the Servian episode so as to be sure of Austria-Hungary in the decisive struggle. That was his policy, and not Bethmann’s.... I am persuaded, however, that Tschirsky, in behaving as he did, widely overstretched his prescribed sphere of activity. Isvolsky was not the only one of his kind.”

It is not the purpose of this essay to enter into the difficult question of the specific guilt for bringing on the war of 1914. However, in examining the quality and methods of contemporary diplomacy it is not possible to avoid considering some of the phases of this difficult question. The documents and other evidence which have recently been published, make it appear that Bethmann-Hollweg, when the terrible crisis was actually at hand, honestly attempted to bring about a moderation of the course pursued by Austria. The original belief of the German statesman itself could, however, be accounted for, only on one of two alternative reasons, either because of an unbelievable lack of foresight, or the conviction that a threatening attitude would again, as in 1909, be successful, and that Russia would not dare to follow up her constantly declared interest in the Servian situation. And if worst should come to worst, “well then,” the German leaders seemed to think, “now will be better than later.” No matter what reasonable occasion German statesmen had during the years leading up to the war to fear a hostile policy on the part of neighboring governments, yet their attitude and action at a critical time shows uppermost in the minds of these statesmen and diplomats, a narrowly tactical, primarily bureaucratic, view of the factors involved. There was always present in the background the notion of the necessity of a preventive war. Those who make the actual decision to begin a war without any immediate provocation making it plainly defensive, who begin it because of contingent dangers in the future, no matter how great, take a very serious responsibility. As has been said, the indicative “Germany made war,” is far more apt to leave a powerful impression in the record of history than the subjunctive, “If Germany had not made war then the others would have done so later on.”

The fact that military action against Servia would probably involve Russia and thus set in motion the complete chain of international forces involving Europe in a world war, that is, the futility of the attempt to localize the struggle in Servia, is practically admitted in the statement of the German White Book, issued August 3, 1914, to the following effect: “We were aware of the fact that warlike undertaking against Servia would bring Russia into the war and that therefore our duty as an ally might entangle us likewise. We could, however, not advise our Ally to yield in a manner incompatible with its dignity, nor could we deny our assistance at this difficult moment.”

Austria-Hungary had judged that it would be incompatible with its dignity and honor to submit the Servian matter to arbitration. This illustrates a very characteristic feature of contemporary diplomacy, still adhering to the traditions and prejudices of the past. The term “honor” is one that is not translatable into terms which can be reasoned about. It is in fact a direct descendant of the conception of “honor” during the eighteenth century, in the code of the duelist. Men constantly translate the concepts of their private life into public affairs, and to these men who at Vienna, Petersburg and Berlin, had the destiny of the world in their hands, honor was an indefinable term which could be felt but not discussed. In practice, when applied to human affairs of the utmost importance, it cannot be distinguished from the character of the personal duel, in which the conception of justice was entirely subordinate. When it was said that Austria-Hungary found arbitration “beneath its dignity,” there was speaking the mentality of the Feudal junker who considers himself too noble to appeal to a court against a peasant neighbor, but prefers to send his servants to give him a thrashing. The honor of Austria-Hungary is of such a special kind in the mind of these men that it does not suffer arbitration, but sees in war the only possible satisfaction. In this as in many other points, secret diplomacy is a superstition of the past. As late as May, 1916, the _Pester Lloyd_, a semi-official paper, declared: “Even if the Russian Government had stopt its mobilization, which it had secretly begun notwithstanding all its hypocritical assurances, nevertheless Austria-Hungary would not have gone to any conference but would have insisted without interference from third parties to settle its affairs with Servia in consonance with the future security of Austria-Hungary.” It would appear plain that the Austrian leaders wanted war, but with Servia alone; trusting that the formidable power of their great ally would again block outside intervention.

Thus when we look at the men in whose hands at this time such a fateful power of decision was placed, we find them, as the great crisis approaches, themselves stunned by the enormity of the forces about to be unchained, seeking still and hoping for some fortunate escape; yet guided in their specific action, not by a general masterly grasp of the entire situation, such as is ordinarily expected of the diplomatic superman, but just by details happening to be most prominent in their mind, such as the incompatibility of arbitration with the honor of Austria, or the personal judgments and inclinations of individual diplomats. As to a correct estimate of how the forces would work out, as to foresight of determining factors, these men showed no unusual ability; in fact, the guess of the intelligent man on the street would have been as safe as their judgment. They stood on too narrow a base; they believed that Italy would remain neutral, that England would not enter the contest, and later that the United States would never engage in hostilities. When we consider the mental attitude of the controllers of foreign affairs in all countries during this long period of secret manipulations, we can find nothing sacrosanct about the deductions and judgments of secret diplomacy; in fact, the lack of contact with public opinion and the deeper forces of life, is everywhere painfully apparent. A Swiss writer has stated: “The World War is the work of a small minority of men in power. Their power rests on the principle of authority, and on the erroneous supposition of wisdom and foresight exceeding the average. The means of maintaining this erroneous supposition is secret diplomacy, which deprives the people of all possibility of insight and control in the most momentous questions. The result of this system is the ruin of Europe.” It is too great a risk to take, to leave in the hands of individual men, no matter how highly gifted personally, the control of such forces and the playing of such chances.

In Russia, the conduct of foreign affairs under the Empire was in the hands of a narrow group of men of special training and experience, but without an element of responsibility to the public at large, except that involved in the general results of diplomatic policy. It is a notable fact that during the nineteenth century only six men held the position of foreign ministers in Russia. This is by far the longest average tenure in any country. Sazonov, who became foreign minister in 1911, further emphasized the esoteric character of foreign policy by definitely divorcing it from home affairs. He did not consult with the Council of Ministers, but only with men of his own chosen environment, a select group of a few collaborators. Russian foreign policy was therefore controlled by a very small clique, representing the traditions of secret diplomacy, and playing at a game of chance, though never so shrewdly, with the lives, fortunes and interests of vast populations. In the Balkan states Russian diplomacy had for a long time applied all its arts in order to establish the predominance of Russian influence. The secret alliance between Servia and Bulgaria was nurtured by Russia evidently with the desire of raising a barrier to the eastward expansion of Austrian influence. In 1912, the fear was entertained that the alliance might spend its main efforts against Turkey instead of Austria. At this time a loan was arranged for King Ferdinand of Bulgaria, the funds for which were advanced by the Czar. The Russian Foreign Office was fully informed concerning the Balkan alliance, which commenced the war in 1912 with Russian assent and encouragement. What direction the thoughts of Russian diplomats were taking, is apparent from a remark of Sazonov, Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs, to the Servian Minister, on April 29, 1913, reported by the latter as follows:

“Again Sazonov told me that we must work for the future because
we would acquire a great deal of territory from Austria. I
replied that we would gladly give Bulgaria Monastir (Bitollia) if
we could acquire Bosnia and other territory of Austria.”

A Belgian diplomat, in a report written from Berlin in 1913, says that notwithstanding the great Russian influence in the Balkans, Russian diplomacy had vacillated a great deal there since the beginning of the Balkan war; he goes on to say: “In a moment of confidence the French ambassador spoke particularly concerning the influence which M. Isvolsky has maintained, who has a personal desire of revenge against Austria-Hungary, and takes great pains to spoil the game whenever there is any appearance of Austrian success.” (Baron Beyens to the Belgian Minister for Foreign Affairs, March 18, 1913.)

When the great crisis came on, the diplomacy of Russia worked in close connection with the militarists. The irreconcilable stubbornness of Count Berchtold greatly strengthened the hands of the militarists, both in Petersburg and Berlin, and virtually put the decision in their hands. The Russians did their part to bring on the war by first ordering mobilization and making that mobilization general almost immediately. The facts concerning this matter have become known. On July 29, 1914, General Janushkevich, the Russian Minister of War, under directions from the Foreign Minister Sazonov, gave the German military attaché his word of honor as a soldier, to the effect that “no general mobilization had taken place, or was desired.” At the very time, he had with him the Czar’s mobilization order. During the night of July 29th, the Czar gave directions to suspend the execution of the order for general mobilization. Generals Janushkevich and Sukhomlinoff, with the approval of M. Sazonov, made the momentous decision to go on with the execution of the order, in disregard of the Czar’s command. It is quite evident that this action made the peaceful settlement of the crisis far more difficult, and gave full control into the hands of the military party in Berlin. As late as July 31, M. Viviani told the German Ambassador at Paris that he was in no way informed of a general mobilization in Russia. The Russian militarists had got away.

VIII

THE SECRET TREATIES OF THE WAR

While the war lasted, the demands of self-protection required the careful concealment of negotiations and policies from enemy knowledge. But though it is easy to understand the need of secrecy at such a time, yet the spirit displayed in these negotiations had but little in common with the ideals professed in the same breath. Moreover, there was a lack of complete sincerity among the Allies themselves, and particularly was there a concealment from some of them of important facts and agreements affecting their interests. However, the most baneful effect of secret diplomacy during the war is found in the undermining of public confidence in a moral foundation of public action. As Lord Loreburn says: “It was not wholesome that while our people were stimulated to unparalleled exertions by a parade of lofty motives there should be at the same time in existence agreements of this kind, of which no public mention could be made, and from which little has resulted except the right of foreign Powers to demand their fulfilment on our part.” That at a time when the people in the vast armies were actually fighting for ideals of freedom and peace, common to humanity, the chief care of responsible statesmen should have been the division of prospective spoils, did certainly not lay solid foundations for peace.

Japan in her action with respect to Shantung and in secretly making the twenty-one demands on China, was first in the attempt to utilize the great struggle for narrowly selfish gain, in this case not entirely at the expense of the enemy but of a neutral and of her allies. Nor did other governments keep themselves free from the temptations of prospective conquest, with the risk of making war interminable and putting the world face to face with revolution, anarchy and famine. As early as February, 1915, the Russian Foreign Minister informed the French and British ambassadors of the territorial acquisitions which Russia desired to make through the war, including a great part of Turkey in Europe and in Asia. The French and British Governments expressed their readiness to agree, provided a number of claims made by France and England were satisfied. Italy entered the war, as is well known, on condition of her claims for territorial annexations being satisfied. She agreed to the Russian demands on the same condition.

On March 9, 1916, the Russian Foreign Minister instructed the Russian Ambassador at Paris to the following effect: “It is above all necessary to demand that the Polish Question should be excluded from the subjects of international negotiation, and that all attempts to place Poland’s future under the guarantee and control of the Powers should be prevented.” Thus did the Russian Government attempt secretly to lock the door against any chance of Poland regaining her lost national rights. The entry of Roumania in 1916 led to additional arrangements. These agreements were kept strictly secret and the millions who were laying down their lives in the war had no conception of this intricate web of bargains.

An effort to settle at a time when the Allies were united in their main aim in the furnace heat of the war, questions which might divide them when peace had come in sight, could be understood; and that such agreements should be kept secret during the war, might have been considered a necessity. However, the necessity of war in this case was stretched to cover arrangements which in themselves went diametrically contrary to the publicly professed principles for which the war was being fought, and gave rise to the just suspicion that in several cases at least, very specific advantages had been the controlling incentive for entering the war. But these agreements have aroused the greatest resentment because they were in several cases directed against the interests of third parties, and particularly because when the United States was making its enormous and unselfish sacrifices, these treaties were kept from its knowledge. That the American Government should not have been informed of the secret treaties made at the instance of Japan in which American interests were most seriously affected, and that just after these agreements had been concluded the statesmen who had been closely connected with acceding to these arrangements on the part of Great Britain, at the price of the British control of the islands of the South Pacific, came to the United States to stimulate the practical devotion there to the cause of the Allies, is a fact that will unfortunately help to give munition to those who are unfavorable to any real friendly understanding between the two great English-speaking powers. The secret commercial policy pursued by Great Britain during the war is also justly subject to severe criticism as giving food and subsistence to the growth of deep suspicion on the part of even the most faithful of friends.

The secret treaties relating to the division of territories in Europe did not come to the knowledge of the public until 1918. At that time they were republished by one or two British papers, but were suppressed by the remainder. The treaties were, however, distributed in innumerable copies by their own governments among the troops of the Central Powers in order to stimulate them to fight in a spirit of self-defense. It is reported from various reliable sources that the Slovenes were the most eager to fight, of any part of the Austrian army, after the Pact of London had become known to them, with its various promises to Italy.

The secret assurances which had been given to Italy in the Compact of London were probably the cause of prolonging the war, with its enormous slaughter, for more than a year. In the Spring of 1917, secret negotiations were pursued between the Emperor of Austria, the President and Premier of France, and the British Prime Minister. The intermediaries in these negotiations were the Bourbon Princes Sixtus and Xavier, brothers of the Empress of Austria. The negotiations were carried on from Switzerland with a confidential envoy of the Emperor of Austria. Only the Emperor, the Empress and the Duchess of Parma were in the secret. Count Czernin, the Austro-Hungarian Minister of Foreign Affairs at this time, at first knew only of the general fact, not of the details. A note of Count Czernin, with a secret personal note written by the Emperor, were brought to Prince Xavier and taken by him to Paris. The proposals in Count Czernin’s note related to the restoration and indemnification of Belgium, and the German renunciation of Alsace-Lorraine, which “Austria-Hungary naturally would not oppose.” Count Czernin stated that Austria-Hungary could not make a separate peace; that it had no idea of crushing Servia, but needed guarantees against such affairs as led to the murder at Sarajevo; that Austria-Hungary had no desire of crushing Roumania, etc. The secret addenda made by the Emperor, without the knowledge of Count Czernin, stated: “We will support France and exercise pressure on Germany with all means [in connection with Alsace-Lorraine]. We are absolutely not in Germany’s hands; it was against Germany’s will that we did not break with America.”

When President Poincaré received the Prince’s report he stated that the secret note afforded a basis for discussion, that he would communicate the two notes, with arrangements of absolute secrecy, to the Premier, and inform the Czar by personal letter, as well as the King of England, and Mr. Lloyd George, “who is a discrete man.” But the President thought that Italy would be the stumbling block. After this interview the Princes proceeded to Vienna for a personal interview with the Emperor, which took place on the night of March 23rd. The Emperor discussed the whole situation, saying that Servia was naturally the friend of Austria, and that all that Austria needed was the suppression of revolutionary propaganda there. He stated that one of the Entente Powers was secretly conversing with Bulgaria; Bulgaria does not know that the secret has leaked out. “It has not much importance, because all these dreams of empire of the East will have to end in the status quo, or very nearly that.” Count Czernin later joined in the conversation, which is described as “rather glacial.” He expressed his belief that peace must be made at any price, and that it might be necessary for Austria to secure a divorce from Germany because the latter would never abandon Alsace-Lorraine. After a second visit, the Emperor gave Prince Xavier an autographed letter, enjoining absolute secrecy because “an indiscretion would force him to send troops to the French front.” The autographed letter of Emperor Charles, dated March 24th, contains the following proposals: That he will support the just French claims to Alsace-Lorraine by all means, using all his personal influence with his allies; Belgium and Servia are to be restored to full sovereignty; Belgium is to secure indemnities for her losses; and Servia is to have access to the Adriatic Sea. On the basis of this letter, discussions took place among the men concerned in France and in England. But Italy remained the obstacle.

Another trip was taken by Prince Xavier to Vienna, where he met the Emperor on May 8th. The question now was, What compensations should Austria receive for ceding its territory to Italy in accordance with the Pact of London? Count Czernin joined the meeting and on the following day prepared a memorandum, which was based upon the principle, “Austria-Hungary can cede no territory without compensation; but if the territorial question is arranged, then a separate peace with the Entente might be concluded.” When the matter was taken up again at Paris, the Italian difficulty remained. M. Ribot strongly adhered to the idea that without Italy, no result could be had. Meanwhile, the unsuccessful Italian offensive of July, 1917, had supervened, and the war had to go on for another sixteen months, although the acceptance of the proposals of the Emperor would undoubtedly have brought it to an early end.

Count Czernin has given in his book, _In the World War_, an unimpassioned and coldly-balanced view of the diplomacy of the time. He does not relate the details of the secret negotiations of 1917, but he evidently did not approve of the manner in which they were carried out because their effect was to suggest to the Entente a willingness of Austria-Hungary to separate from her allies, without strengthening her position in any way. In a letter written to Count Tisza in the summer of 1917, Czernin said: “It is possible to turn and steer the Entente course if thought feasible; but then courage would be needed to make the turn fully. Nothing is more stupid than trifling with treachery and not carrying it out; we should lose all ground in Berlin and gain nothing either in London or Paris.”

The policy pursued by Japan throughout the war made use of all the devices of secret diplomacy for the attainment of ends narrowly national. After having possessed herself of Tsing-tau, with a marked cold-shouldering of her British allies, Japan set about an attempt to arrange things in China so that no effective resistance might be offered there to Japan’s expansionist desires. In January, 1915, the Japanese minister in an interview with the President of China, after enjoining the strictest secrecy on the pain of most disagreeable consequences, proposed the famous twenty-one demands. That it should have been attempted to dispose of matters so fundamentally important, involving the national rights of a population of 350,000,000 people, through demands secretly forced upon a President, at a time when the national representative body did not function,--that is one of the startling facts of modern history. Strange as it may seem, the Japanese Foreign Office had apparently persuaded itself that secrecy could be maintained in a matter of such transcendent importance. For when contrary to that expectation and in accordance with nature and with the salutary fact that, after all, such tremendous issues can not be thus secretly disposed of, the facts of the case began to leak out, categorical denials were made by the Japanese Foreign Office and by various embassies. In this case, those who had the right to object to the disposal of important interests in which they themselves had a share, were not mere neutrals or outsiders but the allies of Japan, engaged in a life and death struggle at the time. As the twenty-one demands aimed at the establishment of a predominant position in China through control of finance and armament, every other nation there interested would have been adversely affected by the proposed arrangement. The Chinese, though isolated, would not immediately yield to the threatening attitude of their neighbor and the negotiations were strung out over months. Though they were assiduously kept secret, the nature of the transaction in general and in detail became quite well known outside, so that the results could not be kept hidden; yet the whole procedure constituted an affirmation that it was proper to deal with the destinies of a people in a secret council chamber, where the demandant backed by strong military forces, confronted the first official of a vast, peaceful but unmilitant nation, which would never in the world agree to such procedure and the resultant undertakings. Japan did indeed get certain concessions, but at the cost of making her diplomacy and policy universally suspected on account of the methods which had been used.

The policy of Japan at the time did not look with favor upon China associating herself with the Allies. Démarches which were made to bring about the entry of China into the alliance were negatived by Japan. This in itself might have been based on sound reasons, yet the real inwardness of this policy was revealed at the time when the United States had broken off relations with Germany and when the Chinese Government in the days immediately thereafter was considering whether to follow the example of the United States. From a report of the Russian Ambassador at Tokio concerning an interview with the Foreign Minister of Japan, which took place on February 10, 1917, we learn that the Minister for Foreign Affairs alluded to a rumor that an attempt might be made to induce China to join the Allies to the extent of breaking off relations with Germany. The Foreign Minister said in effect: “It would be unwise and dangerous to attempt to bring China to the side of the Allies unless we can be sure that it can be carried through. This is, however, doubtful. Yet the Japanese Government is willing to undertake the task of inducing China to take the step. But before making any such proposal, the Japanese Government desires to be informed as to the attitude of the Russian Government in the matter of Shantung and the Pacific Islands. Will the Russian Government support Japan at the Peace Conference in these matters?” The Russian ambassador was requested to get the opinion of his government on this point. In other words, in return for a commission paid largely by China herself, the Japanese Government was ready to permit that China should join the Allies in the Great War. It was assumed by the Foreign Minister that Japan’s persuasion should be necessary to induce China to take this step; but in fact, at the very time when this conversation between the minister and ambassador was going on, the Cabinet of China was in the all-day session from which resulted the decision to follow the United States in breaking off relations with Germany. This step was taken without compulsion, urgency or the promise of advantages, upon a careful consideration of the underlying conditions and equities, without assurances of gain, merely in the expectation of fair treatment as an ally and associate.

IX

HOPES FOR IMPROVEMENT DEFERRED

The world has not yet recovered from the surprise and disillusionment which overcame it when the secret treaties of the war became known and when it became evident that they would be made the basis of the Treaty of Peace. The secrecy of the procedure of the Peace Conference--which had been heralded as an assembly of the peoples for carrying out and making permanent those great principles for which men had grimly and silently suffered and died and which had been eloquently voiced by the American President--seemed to be so complete a return to the old methods of diplomacy that from the day when the muzzle was clamped on, public faith in the conference and its results was shaken. The motives of the men who made this decision were probably good. It was their desire that the work should be rapidly accomplished and should not be confused by divided counsels. But again the results of the secret method are hardly apt to increase confidence in its usefulness as a procedure for dealing with the affairs of the peoples of the world in such a manner as to place them upon a sound and lasting foundation.

The solemn document which was prepared for the information of the newspaper men on the decision of the peace conference to enforce secrecy, did not satisfy any one. To the public there seemed to be no larger principle at issue than that, on this occasion if ever, open covenants should be openly arrived at, and it was feared that if the peace conference did not base its action upon an appeal to public opinion, no adequate solution could be found at all. When the treaty itself had been framed, it was sedulously kept secret until distributed by the French paper _Bonsoir_. The deliberations of the Council of Five were secret beyond all precedents in public action. No secretaries were admitted and no official minutes were kept, nor were there communications to the public through the press. Doctor Dillon’s description of the Five as “a gang of benevolent conspirators, ignoring history and expertship, shutting themselves up in a room and talking disconnectedly,” unfortunately appears not entirely untrue; particularly as to the ignoring of history and expertship, which was quite patent, although from the nature of things we cannot exactly know how disconnectedly the Five talked.

Unfortunately, after the war the use of secret diplomatic policy has continued without noticeable diminution. The details of certain situations make one feel as if we are after all only a generation removed from the eighteenth century. These matters are so recent and still so controversial that I do not desire to enter upon them in any detail.

It is, however, surely to be regretted, that it should have been found necessary to surround the mandates with peculiar secrecy. This institution was conceived in a desire to create a trusteeship in behalf of the world in general and for the particular benefit of the populations comprised in the mandates. Not only has the assignment of certain mandates given rise to great popular resistance indicating that the local populations were far from ready to trust their interests to a foreign mandatory, but the fact that these arrangements are so carefully guarded with secrecy comes near to destroying all hope that there is any intention to handle them otherwise than from the imperialist point of view and for the benefit of the mandatory.

Among the many things that have happened since the armistice, the Franco-Hungarian intrigues are specially to be noted as emphasizing the great danger of secret methods, in which a government runs the risk of being committed by persons, irresponsible or not properly controlled, into embarrassing and harmful situations. We know of these particular facts through confidential reports discovered and published, officially recognized by certain governments, though formally denied by the Magyar Cabinet. These papers give working details of what was already known in general terms concerning reactionary Hungarian intrigues in Czecho-Slovakia and Austria, including preparations for an armed uprising, and other assistance to monarchists. French interests were at the same time active in Hungary. They made an agreement for a leasing of the Hungarian state railways for fifty years. According to this contract, the Hungarian Government is bound to consult the diplomatic representative of the French Government concerning every measure which may have a bearing on any clause of the agreement. A political compact was simultaneously initialed in which the French Government withdrew its opposition to universal military service in Hungary, and that country was to be assisted in boundary rectifications at the expense of Czecho-Slovakia and Roumania. A third agreement provided for the sending of a Hungarian army against Soviet Russia under French command. These agreements were undoubtedly accepted by many people as fully concluded. The Magyar Premier in open session of the national assembly boasted of having achieved an alliance with France; the same understanding was also accepted by certain Paris newspapers. The French Government, however, did not sanction what secret negotiators had prepared in Hungary and disavowed the agreements, with the exception of the lease of the Hungarian railways. This illustrates how in times of unsettlement and sharp national rivalry, representatives on the spot or agents of powerful interests in close touch with the home government may by secret means try to bring about arrangements which the conscience of their nation does not approve and which serve merely to generate suspicion and distrust.

There is reason to believe that the draft of a secret treaty between France and Yugo-Slavia which was published in 1920 by the _Idea Nazionale_ was at the time actually being considered by the two governments concerned. One of the points of the proposed treaty was that upon the declaration of war between France and any Mediterranean power, Yugo-Slavic troops would be massed along the hostile boundary according to previously determined plans. In connection with this provision the representatives of France made the following suggestion: “In case of a conflict it would be better that the Yugo-Slavic troops, instead of massing on the hostile frontier, should rather provoke a ‘Casus Belli’ on the part of the nation at war with France. Otherwise their intervention might bring on the interference of other powers.” The proposed arrangements, even though not adopted by the two governments, nevertheless illustrate the methods acceptable to secret diplomacy, but which open public opinion would never sanction.