Chapter IV: Foreign Affairs (2)
This affair threw into great relief the habits of English, and particularly of Palmerstonian, diplomacy: the feature is worth quoting. Since the commencement of the negociation, the British Government had never ceased to show great animosity against Austria, and loudly to encourage the Piedmontese not to submit to the conditions which she sought to force upon them. My first care, after taking the resolutions I have described, was to communicate them to England, and to endeavour to persuade her to take up the same line of conduct. I therefore sent a copy of my despatch to Drouyn de Lhuys, who was then Ambassador in London, and instructed him to show it to Lord Palmerston, and to discover that minister's intentions. Drouyn de Lhuys replied:[26]
"While I was informing Lord Palmerston of your resolutions and of
the instructions you had sent M. de Boislecomte, he listened with
every sign of eager assent; but when I said, 'You see, my lord, how
far we wish to go; can you tell me how far you will go yourself?'
Lord Palmerston at once replied, 'The British Government, whose
interest in this business is not equal to yours, will not lend the
Piedmontese Government more than a diplomatic assistance and a
moral support."
[26: Despatches of the 25th and 26th of June 1849.]
Is not this characteristic? England, protected against the revolutionary sickness of nations by the wisdom of her laws and the strength of her ancient customs, and against the anger of princes by her power and her isolation in the midst of us, is always pleased to play the part of the advocate of liberty and justice in the internal affairs of the Continent. She likes to censure and even to insult the strong, to justify and encourage the weak; but it seems that she does not care to go further than to assume virtuous airs and discuss honourable theories. Should her _proteges_ come to need her, she offers her moral support.
I add, in order to finish the subject, that these tactics succeeded remarkably well. The Piedmontese remained convinced that England alone had defended them, and that we had very nearly abandoned them. She remained very popular in Turin, and France very much suspected. For nations are like men, they love still more that which flatters their passions than that which serves their interests.
Hardly had we emerged from this bad pass, before we fell into a worse one. We had witnessed with fear and regret what was happening in Hungary. The misfortunes of this unlucky people excited our sympathies. The intervention of the Russians, which for a time subordinated Austria to the Tsar, and caused the hand of the latter to be more and more active in the management of the general affairs of Europe, was not calculated to please us. But all these events happened beyond our reach, and we were helpless.
"I need not tell you," I wrote in the instructions I sent
Lamoriciere, "with what keen and melancholy interest we follow
events in Hungary. Unfortunately, for the present, we can only take
a passive part in this question. The letter and spirit of the
treaties open out to us no right of intervention. Besides, our
distance from the seat of war must impose upon us, in the present
state of our affairs and of those of Europe, a certain reserve.
Since we are not able to speak or act to good purpose, it is due to
our dignity not to display, in respect to this question, any
sterile excitement or impotent good-feeling. Our duty with regard
to Hungarian events is to limit ourselves to carefully observing
what happens and seeking to discover what is likely to take place."
Overwhelmed by numbers, the Hungarians were either conquered or surrendering, and their principal leaders, as well as a certain number of Polish generals who had joined their cause, crossed the Danube at the end of August, and threw themselves into the arms of the Turks at Widdin. From there, the two principal ones, Dembinski and Kossuth, wrote to our Ambassador in Constantinople.[27] The habits and peculiarities of mind of these two men were betrayed in their letters. The soldier's was short and simple; the lawyer-orator's long and ornate. I remember one of his phrases, among others, in which he said, "As a good Christian, I have chosen the unspeakable sorrow of exile rather than the peacefulness of death." Both ended by asking for the protection of France.
[27: Letters of the 22nd and 24th of August 1849.]
While the outlaws were imploring our aid, the Austrian and Russian Ambassadors appeared before the Divan and asked that they might be given up. Austria based her demand upon the treaty of Belgrade, which in no way established her right; and Russia hers upon the treaty of Kainardji (10 July 1774), of which the meaning, to say the least of it, was very obscure. But at bottom they neither of them appealed to an international right, but to a better known and more practical right, that of the strongest. This was made clear by their acts and their language. The two embassies declared from the commencement that it was a question of peace or war. Without consenting to discuss the matter, they insisted upon a reply of yes or no, and declared that if this reply was in the negative, they would at once cease all diplomatic relations with Turkey.
To this exhibition of violence, the Turkish ministers replied, with gentleness, that Turkey was a neutral country; that the law of nations forbade them to hand over outlaws who had taken refuge on their territory; and that the Austrians and Russians had often quoted the same law against them when Mussulman rebels had sought an asylum in Hungary, Transylvania or Bessarabia. They modestly submitted that what was permitted on the left bank of the Danube seemed as though it should also be permitted on the right bank. They ended by protesting that what they were asked to do was opposed to their honour and their religion, that they would gladly undertake to keep the refugees under restraint and place them where they could do no mischief, but that they could never consent to deliver them to the executioner.
"The young Sultan," our ambassador wrote to me, "replied yesterday
to the Austrian Envoy that, while denouncing what the Hungarian
rebels had done, he could now only regard them as unhappy men
seeking to escape death, and that humanity forbade him to surrender
them. Rechid Pasha, on his part, the Grand Vizier," added our
Minister, "said to me, 'I shall be proud if I am driven from power
for this;' and he added, with an air of deep concern, 'In our
religion, every man who asks for mercy is bound to obtain it.'"
This was talking like civilized people and Christians. The Ambassadors were content to reply like real Turks, saying that they must give up the fugitives or undergo the consequences of a rupture which would probably lead to war. The Mussulman population itself took fire; it approved of and supported its Government; and the Mufti came to thank our Ambassador for the support he had given to the cause of humanity and good law.
From the commencement of the discussion, the Divan had addressed itself to the Ambassadors of France and England. It appealed to public opinion in the two great countries which they represented, asked their advice, and besought their help in the event of the Northern Powers executing their threats. The Ambassadors at once replied that in their opinion Austria and Russia were exceeding their rights; and they encouraged the Turkish Government in its resistance.
In the meanwhile, arrived at Constantinople an aide-de-camp of the Tsar. He brought a letter which that Prince had taken the pains to write to the Sultan with his own hand, asking for the extradition of the Poles who had served six months before in the Hungarian war against the Russian army. This step seems a very strange one when one does not see through the particular reasons which influenced the Tsar under the circumstance. The following extract from a letter of Lamoriciere's describes them with great sagacity, and shows to what extent public opinion is dreaded at that end of Europe, where one would think that it was neither an organ nor a power:
"The Hungarian war, as you know," he wrote,[28] "was embarked upon
to sustain Austria, who is hated as a people and not respected as a
government; and it was very unpopular. It brought in nothing, and
cost eighty-four millions of francs. The Russians hoped to bring
back Bem, Dembinski, and the other Poles to Poland, as the price of
the sacrifices of the campaign. Especially in the army, there
reigned a veritable fury against these men. The people and soldiers
were mad with longing for this satisfaction of their somewhat
barbaric national pride. The Emperor, in spite of his omnipotence,
is obliged to attach great value to the spirit of the masses upon
whom he leans, and who constitute his real force. It is not simply
a question of individual self-love: the national sentiment of the
country and the army is at stake."
[28: Despatches of the 11th and 25th of October 1849.]
These were, no doubt, the considerations which prompted the Tsar to take the dangerous step I have mentioned. Prince Radziwill presented his letter, but obtained nothing. He left forthwith, haughtily refusing a second audience, which was offered him to take his leave; and the Russian and Austrian Ambassadors officially declared that all diplomatic relations had ceased between their masters and the Divan.
The latter acted, in these critical circumstances, with a firmness and propriety of bearing which would have done honour to the most experienced cabinets of Europe. At the same time that the Sultan refused to comply with the demands, or rather the orders, of the two Emperors, he wrote to the Tsar to tell him that he would not discuss with him the question of right raised by the interpretation of the treaties, but that he appealed to his friendship and to his honour, begging him to take it in good part that the Turkish Government refused to take a measure which would ruin it in the eyes of the world. He offered, moreover, once more, himself to place the refugees in a position in which they should be harmless. Abdul Medjid sent one of the wisest and cleverest men in his Empire, Fuad Effendi, to take this letter to St Petersburg. A similar letter was written to Vienna, but this was to be handed to the Emperor of Austria by the Turkish Envoy at that Court, thus very visibly marking the difference in the value attached to the consent of the two Sovereigns. This news reached me at the end of September. My first care was to communicate it to England. At the same time[29] I wrote a private letter to our Ambassador, in which I said:
"The conduct of England, who is more interested in this affair than
we are, and less exposed in the conflict that may arise from it,
must needs have a great influence upon our own. The English Cabinet
must be asked clearly and categorically to state _how far_ it is
prepared to go. I have not forgotten the Piedmont affair. If they
want us to assist them, they must dot their i's. It is possible
that, in that case, we shall be found to be very determined;
otherwise, not. It is also very important that you should ascertain
the opinions produced by these events upon the Tories of all
shades; for with a government conducted on the parliamentary
system, and consequently variable, the support of the party in
power is not always a sufficient guarantee."
[29: Private letter, 1 October 1849.]
In spite of the gravity of the circumstances, the English ministers, who were at that moment dispersed on account of the parliamentary holidays, took a long time before meeting; for in that country, the only country in the world where the aristocracy still carries on the government, the majority of the ministers are both great landed proprietors and, as a rule, great noblemen. They were at that time on their estates, recruiting from the fatigue and _ennui_ of business; and they showed no undue hurry to return to Town. During this interval, all the English press, without distinction of party, took fire. It raged against the two Emperors, and inflamed public opinion in favour of Turkey. The British Government, thus stimulated, at once took up its position. This time it did not hesitate, for it was a question, as it said itself, not only of the Sultan, but of England's influence in the world.[30] It therefore decided, first, that representations should be made to Russia and Austria; secondly, that the British Mediterranean Squadron should proceed to the Dardanelles, to give confidence to the Sultan and, if necessary, defend Constantinople. We were invited to do the same, and to act in common. The same evening, the order was despatched to the British Fleet to sail.
[30: Private letter from M. Drouyn de Lhuys, 2 October 1849.]
The news of these decisive resolutions threw me into great perplexity. I did not hesitate to think that we should approve the generous conduct of our Ambassador, and come to the aid of the Sultan;[31] but as to a warlike attitude, I did not believe that it would as yet be wise to adopt it. The English invited us to do as they did; but our position was very different from theirs. In defending Turkey, sword in hand, England risked her fleet; we, our very existence. The English Ministers could rely that, in that extremity, Parliament and the nation would support them; whereas we were almost certain to be abandoned by the Assembly, and even by the country, if things came so far as war. For our wretchedness and danger at home made people's minds at that moment insensible to all beside. I was convinced, moreover, that in this case threats, instead of serving to forward our designs, were calculated to frustrate them. If Russia, for it was really with her alone that we had to do, should chance to be disposed to open the question of the partition of the East by invading Turkey--a contingency that I found it difficult to believe in--the sending of our fleets would not prevent the crisis; and if it was really only a question (as was probably the case) of taking revenge upon the Poles, it would aggravate it, by making it difficult for the Tsar to retract, and causing his vanity to join forces with his resentment.
[31: Private letters to Lamoriciere and Beaumont, 5 and 9 October
1849.]
I went to the meeting of the Council with these reflections. I at once saw that the President was already decided and even pledged, as he himself declared to us. This resolve on his part had been inspired by Lord Normanby, the British Ambassador, an eighteenth-century diplomatist, who had worked himself into a strong position in Louis Napoleon's good graces.... The majority of my colleagues thought as he did, that we should without hesitation adopt the line of joint action to which the English invited us, and like them send our fleet to the Dardanelles.
Failing in my endeavour to have a measure which I considered premature postponed, I asked that at least, before it was carried out, they should consult Falloux, whose state of health had compelled him to leave Paris for a time and go to the country. Lanjuinais went down to him for this purpose, reported the affair to him, and came back and reported to us that Falloux had without hesitation given his opinion in favour of the despatch of the fleet. The order was sent off at once. However, Falloux had acted without consulting the leaders of the majority or his friends, and even without due reflection as to the consequences of his action; he had yielded to a movement of impulse, as sometimes happened to him, for nature had made him frivolous and light-headed before education and habit had rendered him calculating to the pitch of duplicity. It is probable that, after his conversation with Lanjuinais, he received advice, or himself made certain reflections, opposed to the opinion he had given. He therefore wrote me a very long and very involved letter,[32] in which he pretended to have misunderstood Lanjuinais (this was impossible, for Lanjuinais was the clearest and most lucid of men both in speech and action). He revoked his opinion and sought to evade his responsibility; and I replied at once with this note:
"My dear Colleague,
"The Council has taken its resolution, and at this late hour there
is nothing to be done but await events; moreover, in this matter
the responsibility of the whole Council is the same. There is no
individual responsibility. I was not in favour of the measure; but
now that the measure is taken, I am prepared to defend it against
all comers."[33]
[32: Letter from Falloux, 11 October 1849.]
[33: Letter to Falloux, 12 October 1849.]
While giving a lesson to Falloux, I was none the less anxious and embarrassed as to the part I was called upon to play. I cared little for what would happen at Vienna; for in this business I credited Austria merely with the position of a satellite. But what would the Tsar do, who had involved himself so rashly and, apparently, so irrevocably in his relations towards the Sultan, and whose pride had been put to so severe a test by our threats? Fortunately I had two able agents at St Petersburg and Vienna, to whom I could explain myself without reserve.
"Take up the business very gently," I recommended them,[34] "be
careful not to set our adversaries' self-esteem against us, avoid
too great and too ostensible an intimacy with the English
Ambassadors, whose Government is detested by the Court at which you
are, although nevertheless maintaining good relations with those
ambassadors. In order to attain success, adopt a friendly tone, and
do not try to frighten people. Show our position as it is; we do
not want war; we detest it; we dread it; but we cannot act
dishonourably. We cannot advise the Porte, when it comes to us for
our opinion, to commit an act of cowardice; and should the courage
which it has displayed, and which we have approved of, bring it
into danger, we cannot, either, refuse it the assistance it asks of
us. A way must therefore be found out of the difficulty. Is
Kossuth's skin worth a general war? Is it to the interest of the
Powers that the Eastern Question should be opened at this moment
and in this fashion? Cannot a way be found by which everybody's
honour will be saved? What do they want, after all? Do they only
want to have a few poor devils handed over to them? That is
assuredly not worth so great a quarrel; but if it were a pretext,
if at the bottom of this business lurked the desire, as a matter of
fact, to lay hands upon the Ottoman Empire, then it would certainly
be a general war that they wanted; for ultra-pacific though we are,
we should never allow Constantinople to fall without striking a
blow."
[34: Private letters to Lamoriciere and Beaumont, 5 and 9 October
1849.]
The affair was happily over by the time these instructions reached St Petersburg. Lamoriciere had conformed to them before he received them. He had acted in this circumstance with an amount of prudence and discretion which surprised those who did not know him, but which did not astonish me in the least. I knew that he was impetuous by temperament, but that his mind, formed in the school of Arabian diplomacy, the wisest of all diplomacies, was circumspect and acute to the pitch of artifice.
Lamoriciere, so soon as he had heard rumours of the quarrel direct from Russia, hastened to express, very vividly, though in an amicable tone, that he disapproved of what had happened at Constantinople; but he took care to make no official, and, above all, no threatening, representations. Although acting in concert with the British Minister, he carefully avoided compromising himself with him in any joint steps; and when Fuad Effendi, bearing Abdul Medjid's letter, arrived, he let him know secretly that he would not go to see him, in order not to imperil the success of the negociation, but that Turkey could rely upon France.
He was admirably assisted by this envoy from the Grand Seignior, who concealed a very quick and cunning intelligence beneath his Turkish skin. Although the Sultan had appealed for the support of France and England, Fuad, on arriving at St. Petersburg, showed no inclination even to call upon the representatives of these two Powers. He refused to see anybody before his audience of the Tsar, to whose free will alone, he said, he looked for the success of his mission.
The Emperor must have experienced a feeling of bitter displeasure on beholding the want of success attending his threats, and the unexpected turn that things had taken; but he had the strength to restrain himself. In his heart he was not desirous to open the Eastern Question, even though, not long before, he had gone so far as to say, "The Ottoman Empire is dead; we have only to arrange for its funeral."
To go to war in order to force the Sultan to violate the Law of Nations was a very difficult matter. He would have been aided in this by the barbaric passions of his people, but reproved by the opinion of the whole civilized world. He knew what was happening in England and France. He resolved to yield before he was threatened. The great Emperor therefore drew back, to the immeasurable surprise of his subjects and even of foreigners. He received Fuad in audience, and withdrew the demand he had made upon the Sultan. Austria hastened to follow his example. When Lord Palmerston's note arrived at St Petersburg, all was over. The best would have been to say nothing; but while we, in this business, had only aimed at success, the British Cabinet had also sought for noise. It required it to make a response to the irritation of the country. Lord Bloomfield, the British Minister, presented himself at Count Nesselrode's the day after the Emperor's decision became known; and was very coldly received.[35] He read him the note in which Lord Palmerston asked, in polite but peremptory phrases, that the Sultan should not be forced to hand over the refugees. The Russian replied that he neither understood the aim nor the object of this demand; that the affair to which he doubtless referred was arranged; and that, in any case, England had nothing to say in the matter. Lord Bloomfield asked how things stood. Count Nesselrode haughtily refused to give him any explanation; it would be equivalent, he said, to recognizing England's right to interfere in an affair that did not concern it. And when the British Envoy insisted upon at any rate leaving a copy of the note in Count Nesselrode's hands, the latter, after first refusing, at last accepted the document with an ill grace and dismissed his visitor, saying carelessly that he would reply to the note, that it was a terribly long one, and that it would be very tiresome. "France," added the Chancellor, "has already made me say the same thing; but she made me say it earlier and better."
[35: Letter from Lamoriciere, 19 October 1849.]
At this moment when we learnt the end of the dangerous quarrel, the Cabinet, after thus witnessing a happy conclusion to the two great pieces of foreign business that still kept the peace of the world in suspense, the Piedmont War and the Hungarian War--at that moment, the Cabinet fell.
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The Recollections of Alexis de TocquevilleChapter IV: Foreign Affairs (2)
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