Chapter II: Part 2

It is in this intoxicating atmosphere of temperament and mood that the ideas and ambitions of German imperialists work and move. They are essentially the same as those of imperialists in other countries. Their philosophy of history assumes an endless series of wars, due to the inevitable expansion of rival States. Their ethics means a belief in force and a disbelief in everything else. Their science is a crude misapplication of Darwinism, combined with invincible ignorance of the true bearings of science upon life, and especially of those facts and deductions about biological heredity which, once they are understood, will make it plain that war degrades the stock of all nations, victorious and vanquished alike, and that the decline of civilizations is far more plausibly to be attributed to this cause than to the moral decadence of which history is always ready, after the event, to accuse the defeated Power. One peculiarity, perhaps, there is in the outlook of German imperialism, and that is its emphasis on an unintelligible and unreal abstraction of "race." Germans, it is thought, are by biological quality the salt of the earth. Every really great man in Europe, since the break-up of the Roman Empire, has been a German, even though it might appear, at first sight, to an uninstructed observer, that he was an Italian or a Frenchman or a Spaniard. Not all Germans, however, are, they hold, as yet included in the German Empire, or even in the German-Austrian combination. The Flemish are Germans, the Dutch are Germans, the English even are Germans, or were before the war had made them, in Germany's eyes, the offscouring of mankind. Thus, a great task lies before the German Empire: on the one hand, to bring within its fold the German stocks that have strayed from it in the wanderings of history; on the other, to reduce under German authority those other stocks that are not worthy to share directly in the citizenship of the Fatherland. The dreams of conquest which are the real essence of all imperialism are thus supported in Germany by arguments peculiar to Germans. But the arguments put forward are not the real determinants of the attitude. The attitude, in any country, whatever it may be called, rests at bottom on sheer national vanity. It is the belief in the inherent superiority of one's own civilization, and the desire to extend it, by force if need be, throughout the world. It matters little what arguments in its support this passion to dominate may garner from that twilight region in which the advanced guard of science is labouring patiently to comprehend Nature and mankind. Men take from the treasury of truth what they are able to take. And what imperialists take is a mirror to their own ambition and pride.

Now, as to the ambitions of this German jingoism there is no manner of doubt. Germans are nothing if not frank. And this kind of German does want to conquer and annex, not only outside Europe but within it. We must not, however, infer that the whole of Germany has been infected with this virus. The summary I have set down in the last few pages represents the impression made on an unsympathetic mind by the literature of Pangermanism. Emerging from such reading--and it is the principal reading of German origin which has been offered to the British public since the war--there is a momentary illusion, "That is Germany!" Of course it is not, any more than the _Morning Post_ or the _National Review_ is England. Germans, in fact, during recent years have taken a prominent place in pacifism as well as in imperialism. Men like Schücking and Quidde and Fried are at least as well known as men like Treitschke and Bernhardi. Opinion in Germany, as in every other country, has been various and conflicting. And the pacific tendencies have been better organized, if not more active, there than elsewhere, for they have been associated with the huge and disciplined forces of the Social-Democrats. Indeed, the mass of the people, left alone, is everywhere pacific. I do not forget the very important fact that German education, elementary and higher, has been deliberately directed to inculcate patriotic feeling, that the doctrine of armed force as the highest manifestation of the State has been industriously propagated by the authorities, and that the unification of Germany by force has given to the cult of force a meaning and a popularity probably unknown in any other country. But in most men, for good or for evil, the lessons of education can be quickly obliterated by the experience of life. In particular, the mass of the people everywhere, face to face with the necessities of existence, knowing what it is to work and to struggle, to co-operate and to compete, to suffer and to relieve suffering, though they may be less well-informed than the instructed classes, are also less liable to obsession by abstractions. They see little, but they see it straight. And though, being men, with the long animal inheritance of men behind them, their passions may be roused by any cry of battle, though they are the fore-ordained dupes of those who direct the policy of nations, yet it is not their initiative that originates wars. They do not desire conquest, they do not trouble about "race" or chatter about the "survival of the fittest." It is their own needs, which are also the vital needs of society, that preoccupy their thoughts; and it is real goods that direct and inspire their genuine idealism.

We must, then, disabuse ourselves of the notion so naturally produced by reading, and especially by reading in time of war, that the German Jingoes are typical of Germany. They are there, they are a force, they have to be reckoned with. But exactly how great a force? Exactly how influential on policy? That is a question which I imagine can only be answered by guesses. Would the reader, for instance, undertake to estimate the influence during the last fifteen years on British policy and opinion of the imperialist minority in this country? No two men, I think, would agree about it. And few men would agree with themselves from one day or one week to another. We are reduced to conjecture. But the conjectures of some people are of more value than those of others, for they are based on a wider converse. I think it therefore not without importance to recall to the reader the accounts of the state of opinion in Germany given by well-qualified foreign observers in the years immediately preceding the war.

[Footnote 1: As I write I come across the following, cited from a book of songs composed for German combatants under the title "Der deutsche Zorn":--

Wir sind die Meister aller Welt
In allen ernsten Dingen,
* * * * *
Was Man als fremd euch höchlichst preist
Um eurer Einfalt Willen,
Ist deutschen Ursprungs allermeist,
Und trägt nur fremde Hüllen.]

9. _Opinion about Germany_.

After the crisis of Agadir, M. Georges Bourdon visited Germany to make an inquiry for the _Figaro_ newspaper into the state of opinion there. His mission belongs to the period between Agadir and the outbreak of the first Balkan war. He interviewed a large number of people, statesmen, publicists, professors, politicians. He does not sum up his impressions, and such summary as I can give here is no doubt affected by the emphasis of my own mind. His book,[1] however, is now translated into English, and the reader has the opportunity of correcting the impression I give him.

Let us begin with Pangermanism, on which M. Bourdon has a very interesting chapter. He feels for the propaganda of that sect the repulsion that must be felt by every sane and liberal-minded man:--

Wretched, choleric Pangermans, exasperated and unbalanced, brothers
of all the exasperated, wretched windbags whose tirades, in all
countries, answer to yours, and whom you are wrong to count your
enemies! Pangermans of the Spree and the Main, who, on the other side
of the frontier, receive the fraternal effusions of Russian Pan-Slavism,
Italian irredentism, English imperialism, French nationalism! What is it
that you want?

They want, he replies, part of Austria, Switzerland, Flanders, Luxemburg, Denmark, Holland, for all these are "Germanic" countries! They want colonies. They want a bigger army and a bigger navy. "An execrable race, these Pangermans!" "They have the yellow skin, the dry mouth, the green complexion of the bilious. They do not live under the sky, they avoid the light. Hidden in their cellars, they pore over treaties, cite newspaper articles, grow pale over maps, measure angles, quibble over texts or traces of frontiers." "The Pangerman is a propagandist and a revivalist." "But," M. Bourdon adds, "when he shouts we must not think we hear in his tones the reverberations of the German soul." The organs of the party seemed few and unimportant. The party itself was spoken of with contempt. "They talk loud," M. Bourdon was told, "but have no real following; it is only in France that people attend to them." Nevertheless, M. Bourdon concluded they were not negligible. For, in the first place, they have power to evoke the jingoism of the German public--a jingoism which the violent patriotism of the people, their tradition of victorious force, their education, their dogma of race, continually keep alive. And, secondly, the Government, when it thinks it useful, turns to the Pangermans for assistance, and lets loose their propaganda in the press. Their influence thus waxes and wanes, as it is favoured, or not, by authority. "Like the giant Antaeus," a correspondent wrote to M. Bourdon, "Pangermanism loses its force when it quits the soil of government."

It is interesting to note, however, that the Pangerman propaganda purports to be based upon fear. If they urge increased armaments, it is with a view to defence. "I considered it a patriotic duty," wrote General Keim, "in my quality of president of the German League for Defence, to demand an increase of effectives such that France should find it out of the question to dream of a victorious war against us, even with the help of other nations." "To the awakening of the national sentiment in France there is only one reply--the increase of the German forces." "I have the impression," said Count Reventlow, "that a warlike spirit which is new is developing in France. There is the danger." Thus in Germany, as elsewhere, even jingoism took the mask of necessary precaution. And so it must be, and will be everywhere, as long as the European anarchy continues. For what nation has ever admitted an intention or desire to make aggressive war? M. Bourdon, then, takes full account of Pangermanism. Nor does he neglect the general militaristic tendencies of German opinion. He found pride in the army, a determination to be strong, and that belief that it is in war that the State expresses itself at the highest and the best, which is part of the tradition of German education since the days of Treitschke. Yet, in spite of all this, to which M. Bourdon does full justice, the general impression made by the conversations he records is that the bulk of opinion in Germany was strongly pacific. There was apprehension indeed, apprehension of France and apprehension of England. "England certainly preoccupies opinion more than France. People are alarmed by her movements and her armaments." "The constant interventions of England have undoubtedly irritated the public." Germany, therefore, must arm and arm again. "A great war may be delayed, but not prevented, unless German armaments are such as to put fear into the heart of every possible adversary."

Germany feared that war might come, but she did not want it--that, in sum, was M. Bourdon's impression. From soldiers, statesmen, professors, business men, again and again, the same assurance. "The sentiment you will find most generally held is undoubtedly that of peace." "Few think about war. We need peace too much." "War! War between us! What an idea! Why, it would mean a European war, something monstrous, something which would surpass in horror anything the world has ever seen! My dear sir, only madmen could desire or conceive such a calamity! It must be avoided at all costs." "What counts above all here is commercial interest. All who live by it are, here as elsewhere, almost too pacific." "Under the economic conditions prevailing in Germany, the most glorious victory she can aspire to--it is a soldier who says it--is peace!"

The impression thus gathered from M. Bourdon's observations is confirmed at every point by those of Baron Beyens, who went to Berlin as Belgian minister after the crisis of Agadir.[2] Of the world of business he says:--

All these gentlemen appeared to be convinced partisans of peace....
According to them, the tranquillity of Europe had not been for a moment
seriously menaced during the crisis of Agadir.... Industrial Germany
required to live on good terms with France. Peace was necessary to
business, and German finance in particular had every interest in the
maintenance of its profitable relations with French finance.[3] At the
end of a few months I had the impression that these pacifists personified
then--in 1912--the most common, the most widely spread, though the least
noisy, opinion, the opinion of the majority, understanding by the
majority, not that of the governing classes but that of the nation
as a whole (p. 172).

The mass of the people, Beyens held, loved peace, and dreaded war. That was the case, not only with all the common people, but also with the managers and owners of businesses and the wholesale and retail merchants. Even in Berlin society and among the ancient German nobility there were to be found sincere pacifists. On the other hand, there was certainly a bellicose minority. It was composed largely of soldiers, both active and retired; the latter especially looking with envy and disgust on the increasing prosperity of the commercial classes, and holding that a "blood-letting would be wholesome to purge and regenerate the social body"--a view not confined to Germany, and one which has received classical expression in Tennyson's "Maud." To this movement belonged also the high officials, the Conservative parties, patriots and journalists, and of course the armament firms, deliberate fomenters of war in Germany, as everywhere else, in order to put money into their pockets. To these must be added the "intellectual flower of the universities and the schools." "The professors at the universities, taken _en bloc_, were one of the most violent elements in the nation." "Almost all the young people from one end of the Empire to the other have had brought before them in the course of their studies the dilemma which Bernhardi summed up to his readers in the three words 'world-power or decadence.' Yet with all this, the resolute partisans of war formed as I thought a very small minority in the nation. That is the impression I obstinately retain of my sojourn in Berlin and my excursions into the provinces of the Empire, rich or poor. When I recall the image of this peaceful population, journeying to business every week-day with a movement so regular, or seated at table on Sundays in the cafés in the open air before a glass of beer, I can find in my memories nothing but placid faces where there was no trace of violent passions, no thought hostile to foreigners, not even that feverish concern with the struggle for existence which the spectacle of the human crowd has sometimes shown me elsewhere."

A similar impression is given by the dispatch from M. Cambon, French Ambassador to Berlin, written on July 30, 1913.[4] He, too, finds elements working for war, and analyses them much as Baron Beyens does. There are first the "junkers," or country squires, naturally military by all their traditions, but also afraid of the death-duties "which are bound to come if peace continues." Secondly, the "higher bourgeoisie"--that is, the great manufacturers and financiers, and, of course, in particular the armament firms. Both these social classes are influenced, not only by direct pecuniary motives but by the fear of the rising democracy, which is beginning to swamp their representatives in the Reichstag. Thirdly, the officials, the "party of the pensioned." Fourthly, the universities, the "historians, philosophers, political pamphleteers, and other apologists of German Kultur." Fifthly, rancorous diplomatists, with a sense that they had been duped. On the other hand, there were, as M. Cambon insists, other forces in the country making for peace. What were these? In numbers the great bulk, in Germany as in all countries. "The mass of the workmen, artisans and peasants, who are peace-loving by instinct." Such of the great nobles as were intelligent enough to recognize the "disastrous political and social consequences of war." "Numerous manufacturers, merchants, and financiers in a moderate way of business." The non-German elements of the Empire. Finally, the Government and the governing classes in the large southern States. A goodly array of peace forces! According to M. Cambon, however, all these latter elements "are only a sort of make-weight in political matters with limited influence on public opinion, or they are silent social forces, passive and defenceless against the infection of a wave of warlike feeling." This last sentence is pregnant. It describes the state of affairs existing, more or less, in all countries; a few individuals, a few groups or cliques, making for war more or less deliberately; the mass of the people ignorant and unconcerned, but also defenceless against suggestion, and ready to respond to the call to war, with submission or with enthusiasm, as soon as the call is made by their Government.

On the testimony, then, of these witnesses, all shrewd and competent observers, it may be permitted to sum up somewhat as follows:--

In the years immediately preceding the war the mass of the people in Germany, rich and poor, were attached to peace and dreaded war. But there was there also a powerful minority either desiring war or expecting it, and, in either case, preparing it by their agitation. And this minority could appeal to the peculiarly aggressive form of patriotism inculcated by the public schools and universities. The war party based its appeal for ever fresh armaments on the hostile preparations of the Powers of the Entente. Its aggressive ambition masqueraded, perhaps even to itself, as a patriotism apprehensively concerned with defence. It was supported by powerful moneyed interests; and the mass of the people, passive, ill-informed, preoccupied, were defenceless against its agitation. The German Government found the Pangermans embarrassing or convenient according as the direction of its policy and the European situation changed from crisis to crisis. They were thus at one moment negligible, at another powerful. For long they agitated vainly, and they might long have continued to do so. But if the moment should come at which the Government should make the fatal plunge, their efforts would have contributed to the result, their warnings would seem to have been justified, and they would triumph as the party of patriots that had foretold in vain the coming crash to an unbelieving nation.

[Footnote 1: "L'Enigme Allemande," 1914.]

[Footnote 2: See "L'Allemagne avant la guerre," pp. 97 seq. and 170 seq. Bruxelles, 1915.]

[Footnote 3: A Frenchman, M. Maurice Ajam, who made an inquiry among business men in 1913 came to the same conclusion. "Peace! I write that all the Germans without exception, when they belong to the world of business, are fanatical partisans of the maintenance of European peace." See Yves Guyot, "Les causes et les conséquences de la guerre," p. 226.]

[Footnote 4: See French Yellow Book, No. 5.]

10. _German Policy, from 1890-1900_.

Having thus examined the atmosphere of opinion in which the German Government moved, let us proceed to consider the actual course of their policy during the critical years, fifteen or so, that preceded the war. The policy admittedly and openly was one of "expansion." But "expansion" where? It seems to be rather widely supposed that Germany was preparing war in order to annex territory in Europe. The contempt of German imperialists, from Treitschke onward, for the rights of small States, the racial theories which included in "German" territory Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, and the Scandinavian countries, may seem to give colour to this idea. But it would be hazardous to assume that German statesmen were seriously influenced for years by the lucubrations of Mr. Houston Stewart Chamberlain and his followers. Nor can a long-prepared policy of annexation in Europe be inferred from the fact that Belgium and France were invaded after the war broke out, or even from the present demand among German parties that the territories occupied should be retained. If it could be maintained that the seizure of territory during war, or even its retention after it, is evidence that the territory was the object of the war, it would be legitimate also to infer that the British Empire has gone to war to annex German colonies, a conclusion which Englishmen would probably reject with indignation. In truth, before the war, the view that it was the object of German policy to annex European territory would have found, I think, few, if any, supporters among well-informed and unprejudiced observers. I note, for instance, that Mr. Dawson, whose opinion on such a point is probably better worth having than that of any other Englishman, in his book, "The Evolution of Modern Germany,"[1] when discussing the aims of German policy does not even refer to the idea that annexations in Europe are contemplated.

So far as the evidence at present goes, I do not think a case can be made out for the view that German policy was aiming during these years at securing the hegemony of Europe by annexing European territory. The expansion Germany was seeking was that of trade and markets. And her statesmen and people, like those of other countries, were under the belief that, to secure this, it was necessary to acquire colonies. This ambition, up to a point, she was able, in fact, to fulfil, not by force but by agreement with the other Powers. The Berlin Act of 1885 was one of the wisest and most far-seeing achievements of European policy. By it the partition of a great part of the African continent between the Powers was peaceably accomplished, and Germany emerged with possessions to the extent of 377,000 square miles and an estimated population of 1,700,000. By 1906 her colonial domain had been increased to over two and a half million square miles, and its population to over twelve millions; and all of this had been acquired without war with any civilized nation. In spite of her late arrival on the scene as a colonial Power, Germany had thus secured without war an empire overseas, not comparable, indeed, to that of Great Britain or of France, but still considerable in extent and (as Germans believed) in economic promise, and sufficient to give them the opportunity they desired to show their capacity as pioneers of civilization. How they have succeeded or failed in this we need not here consider. But when Germans demand a "place in the sun," the considerable place they have in fact acquired, with the acquiescence of the other colonial Powers, should, in fairness to those Powers, be remembered. But, notoriously, they were not satisfied, and the extent of their dissatisfaction was shown by their determination to create a navy. This new departure, dating from the close of the decade 1890-1900, marks the beginning of that friction between Great Britain and Germany which was a main cause of the war. It is therefore important to form some just idea of the motives that inspired German policy to take this momentous step. The reasons given by Prince Bülow, the founder of the policy, and often repeated by German statesmen and publicists,[2] are, first, the need of a strong navy, to protect German commerce; secondly, the need, as well as the ambition, of Germany to play a part proportional to her real strength in the determination of policy beyond the seas. These reasons, according to the ideas that govern European statesmanship, are valid and sufficient. They are the same that have influenced all great Powers; and if Germany was influenced by them we need not infer any specially sinister intentions on her part. The fact that during the present war German trade has been swept from the seas, and that she is in the position of a blockaded Power, will certainly convince any German patriot, not that she did not need a navy, but that she needed a much stronger one; and the retort that there need have been no war if Germany had not provoked it by building a fleet is not one that can be expected to appeal to any nation so long as the European anarchy endures. For, of course, every nation regards itself as menaced perpetually by aggression from some other Power. Defence was certainly a legitimate motive for the building of the fleet, even if there had been no other. There was, however, in fact, another reason avowed. Germany, as we have said, desired to have a voice in policy beyond the seas. Here, too, the reason is good, as reasons go in a world of competing States. A great manufacturing and trading Power cannot be indifferent to the parcelling out of the world among its rivals. Wherever, in countries economically undeveloped, there were projects of protectorates or annexations, or of any kind of monopoly to be established in the interest of any Power, there German interests were directly affected. She had to speak, and to speak with a loud voice, if she was to be attended to. And a loud voice meant a navy. So, at least, the matter naturally presented itself to German imperialists, as, indeed, it would to imperialists of any other country.

The reasons given by German statesmen for building their fleet were in this sense valid. But were they the only reasons? In the beginning most probably they were. But the formation and strengthening of the Entente, and Germany's consequent fear that war might be made upon her jointly by France and Great Britain, gave a new stimulus to her naval ambition. She could not now be content with a navy only as big as that of France, for she might have to meet those of France and England conjoined. This defensive reason is good. But no doubt, as always, there must have lurked behind it ideas of aggression. Ambition, in the philosophy of States, goes hand in hand with fear. "The war may come," says one party. "Yes," says the other; and secretly mutters, "May the war come!" To ask whether armaments are for offence or for defence must always be an idle inquiry. They will be for either, or both, according to circumstances, according to the personalities that are in power, according to the mood that politicians and journalists, and the interests that suborn them, have been able to infuse into a nation. But what may be said with clear conviction is, that to attempt to account for the clash of war by the ambition and armaments of a single Power is to think far too simply of how these catastrophes originate. The truth, in this case, is that German ambition developed in relation to the whole European situation, and that, just as on land their policy was conditioned by their relation to France and Russia, so at sea it was conditioned by their relation to Great Britain. They knew that their determination to become a great Power at sea would arouse the suspicion and alarm of the English. Prince Bülow is perfectly frank about that. He says that the difficulty was to get on with the shipbuilding programme without giving Great Britain an opportunity to intervene by force and nip the enterprise in the bud. He attributes here to the British Government a policy which is all in the Bismarckian tradition. It was, in fact, a policy urged by some voices here, voices which, as is always the case, were carried to Germany and magnified by the mega-phone of the Press.[3] That no British Government, in fact, contemplated picking a quarrel with Germany in order to prevent her becoming a naval Power I am myself as much convinced as any other Englishman, and I count the fact as righteousness to our statesmen. On the other hand, I think it an unfounded conjecture that Prince Bülow was deliberately building with a view to attacking the British Empire. I see no reason to doubt his sincerity when he says that he looked forward to a peaceful solution of the rivalry between Germany and ourselves, and that France, in his view, not Great Britain, was the irreconcilable enemy.[4] In building her navy, no doubt, Germany deliberately took the risk of incurring a quarrel with England in the pursuit of a policy which she regarded as essential to her development. It is quite another thing, and would require much evidence to prove that she was working up to a war with the object of destroying the British Empire.

What we have to bear in mind, in estimating the meaning of the German naval policy, is a complex series of motives and conditions: the genuine need of a navy, and a strong one, to protect trade in the event of war, and to secure a voice in overseas policy; the genuine fear of an attack by the Powers of the Entente, an attack to be provoked by British jealousy; and also that indeterminate ambition of any great Power which may be influencing the policy of statesmen even while they have not avowed it to themselves, and which, expressed by men less responsible and less discreet, becomes part of that "public opinion" of which policy takes account.

[Footnote 1: Published in 1908.]

[Footnote 2: See, e.g., Dawson, "Evolution of Modern Germany," p. 348.]

[Footnote 3: Some of these are cited in Bülow's "Imperial Germany," p. 36.]

[Footnote 4: See "Imperial Germany," pp. 48, 71, English translation.]

11. _Vain Attempts at Harmony_.

It may, however, be reasonably urged that unless the Germans had had aggressive ambitions they would have agreed to some of the many proposals made by Great Britain to arrest on both sides the constantly expanding programmes of naval constructions. It is true that Germany has always opposed the policy of limiting armaments, whether on land or sea. This is consonant with that whole militarist view of international politics which, as I have already indicated, is held in a more extreme and violent form in Germany than in any other country, but which is the creed of jingoes and imperialists everywhere. If the British Government had succeeded in coming to an agreement with Germany on this question, they would have been bitterly assailed by that party at home. Still, the Government did make the attempt. It was comparatively easy for them, for any basis to which they could have agreed must have left intact, legitimately and necessarily, as we all agree, the British supremacy at sea. The Germans would not assent to this. They did not choose to limit beforehand their efforts to rival us at sea. Probably they did not think it possible to equal, still less to outstrip us. But they wanted to do all they could. And that of course could have only one meaning. They thought a war with England possible, and they wanted to be as well prepared as they could be. It is part of the irony that attaches to the whole system of the armed peace that the preparations made against war are themselves the principal cause of war. For if there had been no rival shipbuilding, there need have been no friction between the two countries.

"But why did Germany fear war? It must have been because she meant to make it." So the English argue. But imagine the Germans saying to us, "Why do you fear war? There will be no war unless you provoke it. We are quite pacific. You need not be alarmed about us." Would such a promise have induced us to relax our preparations for a moment? No! Under the armed peace there can be no confidence. And that alone is sufficient to account for the breakdown of the Anglo-German negotiations, without supposing on either side a wish or an intention to make war. Each suspected, and was bound to suspect, the purpose of the other. Let us take, for example, the negotiations of 1912, and put them back in their setting.

The Triple Alliance was confronting the Triple Entente. On both sides were fear and suspicion. Each believed in the possibility of the others springing a war upon them. Each suspected the others of wanting to lull them into a false security, and then take them unprepared. In that atmosphere, what hope was there of successful negotiations? The essential condition--mutual confidence--was lacking. What, accordingly, do we find? The Germans offer to reduce their naval programme, first, if England will promise an unconditional neutrality; secondly, when that was rejected, if England will promise neutrality in a war which should be "forced upon" Germany. Thereupon the British Foreign Office scents a snare. Germany will get Austria to provoke a war, while making it appear that the war was provoked by Russia, and she will then come in under the terms of her alliance with Austria, smash France, and claim that England must look on passively under the neutrality agreement! "No, thank you!" Sir Edward Grey, accordingly, makes a counter-proposal. England will neither make nor participate in an "unprovoked" attack upon Germany. This time it is the German Chancellor's turn to hang back. "Unprovoked! Hm! What does that mean? Russia, let us suppose, makes war upon Austria, while making it appear that Austria is the aggressor. France comes in on the side of Russia. And England? Will she admit that the war was 'unprovoked' and remain neutral? Hardly, we think!" The Chancellor thereupon proposes the addition: "England, of course, will remain neutral if war is forced upon Germany? That follows, I presume?" "No!" from the British Foreign Office. Reason as before. And the negotiations fall through. How should they not under the conditions? There could be no understanding, because there was no confidence. There could be no confidence because there was mutual fear. There was mutual fear because the Triple Alliance stood in arms against the Triple Entente. What was wrong? Germany? England? No. The European tradition and system.

The fact, then, that those negotiations broke down is no more evidence of sinister intentions on the part of Germany than it is on the part of Great Britain. Baron Beyens, to my mind the most competent and the most impartial, as well as one of the best-informed, of those who have written on the events leading up to the war, says explicitly of the policy of the German Chancellor:--

A practicable _rapprochement_ between his country and Great Britain
was the dream with which M. de Bethmann-Hollweg most willingly soothed
himself, without the treacherous _arrière-pensèe_ which the Prince von
Bülow perhaps would have had of finishing later on, at an opportune
moment, with the British Navy. Nothing authorizes us to believe that
there was not a basis of sincerity in the language of M. de Jagow when he
expressed to Sir E. Goschen in the course of their last painful interview
his poignant regret at the crumbling of his entire policy and that of the
Chancellor, which had been to make friends with Great Britain, and then
through Great Britain to get closer to France.[1]

Meantime the considerations I have here laid before the reader, in relation to this general question of Anglo-German rivalry, are, I submit, all relevant, and must be taken into fair consideration in forming a judgment. The facts show clearly that Germany was challenging as well as she could the British supremacy at sea; that she was determined to become a naval as well as a military Power; and that her policy was, on the face of it, a menace to this country; just as the creation on our part of a great conscript army would have been taken by Germany as a menace to her. The British Government was bound to make counter-preparations. I, for my own part, have never disputed it. I have never thought, and do not now think, that while the European anarchy continues, a single Power can disarm in the face of the others. All this is beyond dispute. What is disputable, and a matter of speculative inference, is the further assumption that in pursuing this policy Germany was making a bid to destroy the British Empire. The facts can certainly be accounted for without that assumption. I myself think the assumption highly improbable. So much I may say, but I cannot say more. Possibly some day we may be able to check conjecture by facts. Until then, argument must be inconclusive.

This question of the naval rivalry between Germany and Great Britain is, however, part of the general question of militarism. And it may be urged that while during the last fifteen years the British Government has shown itself favourable to projects of arbitration and of limitation of armaments, the German Government has consistently opposed them. There is much truth in this; and it is a good illustration of what I hold to be indisputable, that the militaristic view of international politics is much more deeply rooted in Germany than in Great Britain. It is worth while, however, to remind ourselves a little in detail what the facts were since they are often misrepresented or exaggerated.

The question of international arbitration was brought forward at the first Hague Conference in 1899.[2] From the beginning it was recognized on all sides that it would be idle to propose general compulsory arbitration for all subjects. No Power would have agreed to it, not Great Britain or America any more than Germany. On the other hand, projects for creating an arbitration tribunal, to which nations willing to use it should have recourse, were brought forward by both the British and the American representatives. From the beginning, however, it became clear that Count Münster, the head of the German delegation, was opposed to any scheme for encouraging arbitration. "He did not say that he would oppose a moderate plan of voluntary arbitration, but he insisted that arbitration must be injurious to Germany; that Germany is prepared for war as no other country is, or can be; that she can mobilize her army in ten days; and that neither France, Russia, nor any other Power can do this. Arbitration, he said, would simply give rival Powers time to put themselves in readiness, and would, therefore, be a great disadvantage to Germany." Here is what I should call the militarist view in all its simplicity and purity, the obstinate, unquestioning belief that war is inevitable, and the determination to be ready for it at all costs, even at the cost of rejecting machinery which if adopted might obviate war. The passage has often been cited as evidence of the German determination to have war. But I have not so often seen quoted the exactly parallel declaration made by Sir John (now Lord) Fisher. "He said that the Navy of Great Britain was and would remain in a state of complete preparation for war; that a vast deal depended on prompt action by the Navy; and that the truce afforded by arbitration proceedings would give other Powers time, which they would not otherwise have, to put themselves into complete readiness."[3] So far the "militarist" and the "marinist" adopt exactly the same view. And we may be sure that if proposals are made after the war to strengthen the machinery for international arbitration, there will be opposition in this country of the same kind, and based on the same grounds, as the opposition in Germany. We cannot on this point condemn Count Münster without also condemning Lord Fisher.

Münster's opposition, however, was only the beginning. As the days went on it became clear that the Kaiser himself had become actively opposed to the whole idea of arbitration, and was influencing Austria and Italy and Turkey in that sense. The delegates of all the other countries were in favour of the very mild application of it which was under consideration. So, however, be it noted, were all the delegates from Germany, except Count Münster. And even he was, by now, so far converted that when orders were received from Germany definitely to refuse co-operation, he postponed the critical sitting of the committee, and dispatched Professor Zorn to Berlin to lay the whole matter before the Chancellor. Professor Zorn was accompanied by the American Dr. Holls, bearing an urgent private letter to Prince Hohenlohe from Mr. White. The result was that the German attitude was changed, and the arbitration tribunal was finally established with the consent and co-operation of the German Government.

I have thought it worth while to dwell thus fully upon this episode because it illustrates how misleading it really is to talk of "Germany" and the "German" attitude. There is every kind of German attitude. The Kaiser is an unstable and changeable character. His ministers do not necessarily agree with him, and he does not always get his way. As a consequence of discussion and persuasion the German opposition, on this occasion, was overcome. There was nothing, in fact, fixed and final about it. It was the militarist prejudice, and the prejudice this time yielded to humanity and reason.

The subject was taken up again in the Conference of 1907, and once more Germany was in opposition. The German delegate, Baron Marschall von Bieberstein, while he was not against compulsory arbitration for certain selected topics, was opposed to any general treaty. It seems clear that it was this attitude of Germany that prevented any advance being made beyond the Convention of 1899. Good reasons, of course, could be given for this attitude; but they are the kind of reasons that goodwill could have surmounted. It seems clear that there was goodwill in other Governments, but not in that of Germany, and the latter lies legitimately under the prejudice resulting from the position she then took. German critics have recognized this as freely as critics of other countries. I myself feel no desire to minimize the blame that attaches to Germany. But Englishmen who criticize her policy must always ask themselves whether they would support a British Government that should stand for a general treaty of compulsory arbitration.

On the question of limitation of armaments the German Government has been equally intransigeant. At the Conference of 1899, indeed, no serious effort was made by any Power to achieve the avowed purpose of the meeting. And, clearly, if anything was intended to be done, the wrong direction was taken from the beginning. When the second Conference was to meet it is understood that the German Government refused participation if the question of armaments was to be discussed, and the subject did not appear on the official programme. Nevertheless the British, French, and American delegates took occasion to express a strong sense of the burden of armaments, and the urgent need of lessening it.

The records of the Hague Conferences do, then, clearly show that the German Government was more obstinately sceptical of any advance in the direction of international arbitration or disarmament than that of any other Great Power, and especially of Great Britain or the United States. Whether, in fact, much could or would have been done, even in the absence of German opposition, may be doubted. There would certainly have been, in every country, very strong opposition to any effective measures, and it is only those who would be willing to see their own Government make a radical advance in the directions in question who can honestly attack the German Government. As one of those who believe that peaceable procedure may and can, and, if civilization is to be preserved, must be substituted for war, I have a right to express my own condemnation of the German Government, and I unhesitatingly do so. But I do not infer that therefore Germany was all the time working up to an aggressive war. It is interesting, in this connection, to note the testimony given by Sir Edwin Pears to the desire for good relations between Great Britain and Germany felt and expressed later by the same Baron Marschall von Bieberstein who was so unyielding in 1907 on the question of arbitration. When he came to take up the post of German Ambassador to Great Britain, Sir Edwin reports him as saying:--

I have long wanted to be Ambassador to England, because, as you know,
for years I have considered it a misfortune to the world that our two
countries are not really in harmony. I consider that I am here as a man
with a mission, my mission being to bring about a real understanding
between our two nations.

On this Sir Edwin comments (1915):--

I unhesitatingly add that I am convinced he was sincere in what he said.
Of that I have no doubt.[4]

It must, in fact, be recognized that in the present state of international relations, the general suspicion and the imminent danger, it requires more imagination and faith than most public men possess, and more idealism than most nations have shown themselves to be capable of, to take any radical step towards reorganization. The armed peace, as we have so often had to insist, perpetuates itself by the mistrust which it establishes.

Every move by one Power is taken to be a menace to another, and is countered by a similar move, which in turn produces a reply. And it is not easy to say "Who began it?" since the rivalry goes so far back into the past. What, for instance, is the real truth about the German, French, and Russian military laws of 1913? Were any or all of them aggressive? Or were they all defensive? I do not believe it is possible to answer that question. Looking back from the point of view of 1914, it is natural to suppose that Germany was already intending war. But that did not seem evident at the time to a neutral observer, nor even, it would seem, to the British Foreign Office. Thus the Count de Lalaing, Belgian Minister in London, writes as follows on February 24, 1913:--

The English Press naturally wants to throw upon Germany the
responsibility for the new tension which results from its proposals,
and which may bring to Europe fresh occasions of unrest. Many journals
consider that the French Government, in declaring itself ready to impose
three years' service, and in nominating M. Delcassé to St. Petersburg,
has adopted the only attitude worthy of the great Republic in presence
of a German provocation. At the Foreign Office I found a more just and
calm appreciation of the position. They see in the reinforcement of
the German armies less a provocation than the admission of a military
situation weakened by events and which it is necessary to strengthen.
The Government of Berlin sees itself obliged to recognize that it cannot
count, as before, on the support of all the forces of its Austrian ally,
since the appearance in South-east Europe of a new Power, that of the
Balkan allies, established on the very flank of the Dual Empire. Far
from being able to count, in case of need, on the full support of the
Government of Vienna, it is probable that Germany will have to support
Vienna herself. In the case of a European war she would have to make
head against her enemies on two frontiers, the Russian and the French,
and diminish perhaps her own forces to aid the Austrian army. In these
conditions they do not find it surprising that the German Empire should
have felt it necessary to increase the number of its Army Corps. They add
at the Foreign Office that the Government of Berlin had frankly explained
to the Cabinet of Paris the precise motives of its action.

Whether this is a complete account of the motives of the German Government in introducing the law of 1913 cannot be definitely established. But the motives suggested are adequate by themselves to account for the facts. On the other hand, a part of the cost of the new law was to be defrayed by a tax on capital. And those who believe that by this year Germany was definitely waiting an occasion to make war have a right to dwell upon that fact. I find, myself, nothing conclusive in these speculations. But what is certain, and to my mind much more important, is the fact that military preparations evoke counter-preparations, until at last the strain becomes unbearable. By 1913 it was already terrific. The Germans knew well that by January 1917 the French and Russian preparations would have reached their culminating point. But those preparations were themselves almost unendurable to the French.

I may recall here the passage already cited from a dispatch of Baron Guillaume, Belgian Ambassador at Paris, written in June 1914 (p. 34). He suspected, as we saw, that the hand of Russia had imposed the three years' service upon France.

What Baron Guillaume thought plausible must not the Germans have thought plausible? Must it not have confirmed their belief in the "inevitability" of a war--that belief which, by itself, has been enough to produce war after war, and, in particular, the war of 1870? Must there not have been strengthened in their minds that particular current among the many that were making for war? And must not similar suspicions have been active, with similar results, on the side of France and Russia? The armaments engender fear, the fear in turn engenders armaments, and in that vicious circle turns the policy of Europe, till this or that Power precipitates the conflict, much as a man hanging in terror over the edge of a cliff ends by losing his nerve and throwing himself over. That is the real lesson of the rivalry in armaments. That is certain. The rest remains conjecture.

[Footnote 1: "L'Allemagne avant la guerre," p. 75, and British White Paper, No. 160.]

[Footnote 2: The account that follows is taken from the "Autobiography" of Andrew D. White, the chairman of the American delegation. See vol. ii., chap. xiv. and following.]

[Footnote 3: Mr. Arthur Lee, late Civil Lord of the Admiralty, at Eastleigh:--

"If war should unhappily break out under existing conditions the British Navy would get its blow in first, before the other nation had time even to read in the papers that war had been declared" (_The Times_, February 4, 1905).

"The British fleet is now prepared strategically for every possible emergency, for we must assume that all foreign naval Powers are possible enemies" (_The Times_, February 7, 1905).]

[Footnote 4: Sir Edwin Pears, "Forty Years in Constantinople," p.330.]

12. _Europe since the Decade 1890-1900_.

Let us now, endeavouring to bear in our minds the whole situation we have been analysing, consider a little more particularly the various episodes and crises of international policy from the year 1890 onwards. I take that date, the date of Bismarck's resignation, for the reason already given (p. 42). It was not until then that it would have occurred to any competent observer to accuse Germany of an aggressive policy calculated to disturb the peace of Europe. A closer _rapprochement_ with England was, indeed, the first idea of the Kaiser when he took over the reins of power in 1888. And during the ten years that followed British sympathies were actually drawn towards Germany and alienated from France.[1] It is well known that Mr. Chamberlain favoured an alliance with Germany,[2] and that when the Anglo-Japanese treaty was being negotiated the inclusion of Germany was seriously considered by Lord Lansdowne. The telegram of the Kaiser to Kruger in 1895 no doubt left an unpleasant impression in England, and German feeling, of course, at the time of the Boer War, ran strongly against England, but so did feeling in France and America, and, indeed, throughout the civilized world. It was certainly the determination of Germany to build a great navy that led to the tension between her and England, and finally to the formation of the Triple Entente, as a counterpoise to the Triple Alliance. It is 1900, not 1888, still less 1870, that marks the period at which German policy began to be a disturbing element in Europe. During the years that followed, the principal storm-centres in international policy were the Far and Near East, the Balkans, and Morocco. Events in the Far East, important though they were, need not detain us here, for their contribution to the present war was remote and indirect, except so far as concerns the participation of Japan. Of the situation in the other areas, the tension and its causes and effects, we must try to form some clear general idea. This can be done even in the absence of that detailed information of what was going on behind the scenes for which a historian will have to wait.