Читать книгу In the World War - Graf Ottokar Theobald Otto Maria Czernin von Chudenitz - Страница 20

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War was never in William II.'s programme. I am not able to say where, in his own mind, he had fixed the limits he proposed for Germany and whether it was justifiable to reproach him with having gone too far in his ambition for the Fatherland. He certainly never thought of a unified German world dominion; he was not so simple as to think he could achieve that without a war, but his plan undoubtedly was permanently to establish Germany among the first Powers of the world. I know for certain that the Emperor's ideal plan was to come to a world agreement with England and, in a certain sense, to divide the world with her. In this projected division of the world a certain part was to be played by Russia and Japan, but he paid little heed to the other states, especially to France, convinced that they were all nations of declining power. To maintain that William intentionally prepared and started this war is in direct opposition to his long years of peaceful government. Helfferich, in his work "Die Vorgeschichte des Weltkrieges," speaks of the Emperor's attitude during the Balkan troubles, and says:

A telegram sent by William II. at that time to the Imperial Chancellor explains the attitude of the German Emperor in this critical position for German politics, being similar to the situation in July, 1914. The contents of the telegram are as follows: "The Alliance with Austria-Hungary compels us to take action should Austria-Hungary be attacked by Russia. In that case France would also be involved, and in those circumstances England would not long remain quiescent. The present prevailing questions of dispute cannot be compared with that danger. It cannot be the intention of the Alliance that we, the life interest of our ally not being endangered, should enter upon a life-and-death conflict for a caprice of that ally. Should it become evident that the other side intend to attack, the danger must then be faced."

This calm and decided standpoint which alone could maintain peace was also the German policy observed in further developments. It was upheld when confronted by strong pressure from Russia, as also against other tendencies and a certain transitory ill-feeling in Vienna.

Whether such feeling did exist in Vienna or not I cannot say, but I believe the account is correct.

It has already been mentioned that all the warlike speeches flung into the world by the Emperor were due to a mistaken understanding of their effect. I allow that the Emperor wished to create a sensation, even to terrify people, but he also wished to act on the principle of si vis pacem para bellum, and by emphasising the military power of Germany he endeavoured to prevent the many envious enemies of his Empire from declaring war on him.

It cannot be denied that this attitude was often both unfortunate and mistaken, and that it contributed to the outbreak of war; but it is asserted that the Emperor was devoid of the dolus of making war; that he said and did things by which he unintentionally stirred up war.

Had there been men in Germany ready to point out to the Emperor the injurious effects of his behaviour and to make him feel the growing mistrust of him throughout the world, had there been not one or two but dozens of such men, it would assuredly have made an impression on the Emperor. It is quite true that of all the inhabitants of the earth, the German is the one the least capable of adapting himself to the mentality of other people, and, as a matter of fact, there were perhaps but few in the immediate entourage of the Emperor who recognised the growing anxiety of the world. Perhaps many of those who so continuously extolled the Emperor were really honestly of opinion that his behaviour was quite correct. It is, nevertheless, impossible not to believe that among the many clever German politicians of the last decade there were some who had a clear grasp of the situation, and the fact remains that, in order to spare the Emperor and themselves, they had not the courage to be harsh with him and tell him the truth to his face. These are not reproaches, but reminiscences which should not be superfluous at a time when the Emperor is to be made the scapegoat of the whole world. Certainly, the Emperor, being such as he is, the experiment would not have passed off without there being opposition to encounter and overcome. The first among his subjects to attempt the task of enlightening the Emperor would have been looked upon with the greatest surprise; hence no one would undertake it. Had there, however, been men who, regardless of themselves, would have undertaken to do it, it would certainly have succeeded, as not only was the Emperor full of good intentions, but he was also impressionable, and consistent purposefulness on a basis of fearless honesty would have impressed him. Besides, the Emperor was a thoroughly kind and good man. It was a genuine pleasure for him to be able to do good, neither did he hate his enemies. In the summer of 1917 he spoke to me about the fate of the deposed Tsar and of his desire to help him and subsequently bring him to Germany, a desire due not to dynastic but to human motives. He stated repeatedly that he had no desire for revenge, but "only to succour his fallen adversary."

I firmly believe that the Emperor clearly saw the clouds grow blacker and blacker on the political horizon, but he was sincerely and honestly persuaded that it was not through any fault of his that they had accumulated, that they were caused by envy and jealousy, and that there was no other way of keeping the threatening war danger at bay than by an ostentatious attitude of strength and fearlessness. "Germany's power and might must daily be proclaimed to the world, for as long as they fear us they will do us no harm"—that was the doctrine that obtained on the Spree. And the echo came back from the world, "This continued boasting of German power and the perpetual attempts at intimidation prove that Germany seeks to tyrannise the world."

When war broke out the Emperor was firmly convinced that a war of defence was being forced on him, which conviction was shared by the great majority of the German people. I draw these conclusions solely from my knowledge of the Emperor and his entourage and from other information obtained indirectly. As I have already mentioned, I had not had the slightest connection with Berlin for some years previous to the war, and certainly not for two years after it broke out.

In the winter of 1917, when I met the Emperor again in my capacity as Minister for Foreign Affairs, I thought he had aged, but was still full of his former vivacity. In spite of marked demonstrations of the certainty of victory, I believe that William II. even then had begun to doubt the result of the war and that his earnest wish was to bring it to an honourable end. When in the course of one of our first conversations I urged him to spare no sacrifice to bring it to an end, he interrupted me, exclaiming: "What would you have me do? Nobody longs for peace more intensely than I do. But every day we are told that the others will not hear a word about peace until Germany has been crushed." It was a true answer, for all statements made by England culminated in the one sentence Germanium esse delendam. I endeavoured, nevertheless, to induce the Emperor to consent to the sacrifice of Alsace-Lorraine, persuaded that if France had obtained all that she looked upon in the light of a national idea she would not be inclined to continue the war. I think that, had the Emperor been positively certain that it would have ended the war, and had he not been afraid that so distressing an offer would have been considered unbearable by Germany, he would personally have agreed to it. But he was dominated by the fear that a peace involving such a loss, and after the sacrifices already made, would have driven the German people to despair. Whether he was justified in this fear or not cannot now be confirmed. In 1917, and 1918 as well, the belief in a victorious end was still so strong in Germany that it is at least doubtful whether the German people would have consented to give up Alsace-Lorraine. All the parties in the Reichstag were opposed to it, including the Social Democrats.

A German official of high standing said to me in the spring of 1918: "I had two sons; one of them fell on the field of battle, but I would rather part with the other one too than give up Alsace-Lorraine," and many were of the same opinion.

In the course of the year and a half when I had frequent opportunities of meeting the Emperor, his frame of mind had naturally gone through many different phases. Following on any great military success, and after the collapse of Russia and Roumania, his generals were always able to enrol him on their programme of victory, and it is quite a mistake to imagine that William II. unceasingly clung to the idea of "Peace above all." He wavered, was sometimes pessimistic, sometimes optimistic, and his peace aims changed in like manner. Humanly speaking, it is very comprehensible that the varying situation in the theatre of war must have influenced the individual mind, and everyone in Europe experienced such fluctuations.

Early in September, 1917, he wrote to the Emperor Charles on the subject of an impending attack on the Italian front, and in this letter was the following passage: "I trust that the possibility of a common offensive of our allied armies will raise the spirits of your Foreign Minister. In my opinion, and in view of the general situation, there is no reason to be anything but confident." Other letters and statements prove the Emperor's fluctuating frame of mind. He, as well as the diplomats in the Wilhelmstrasse, made use, with regard to the "war-weary Austria-Hungary," of such tactics as demonstrated a pronounced certainty of victory in order to strengthen our powers of resistance.

The Archduke Friedrich deserves the greatest praise for having kept up the friendly relations between Vienna and Berlin. It was not always easy to settle the delicate questions relating to the conduct of the war without giving offence. The honest and straightforward nature of the Archduke and his ever friendly and modest behaviour saved many a difficult situation.

After our collapse and overthrow, and when the Imperial family could be abused with impunity, certain newspapers took a delight in covering the Archduke Friedrich with contumely. It left him quite indifferent. The Prince is a distinguished character, of faultless integrity and always ready to put down abuse. He prevented many disasters, and it was not his fault if he did not succeed every time.

When I saw the Crown Prince Wilhelm again after several years, in the summer of 1917, I found him very tired of war and most anxious for peace. I had gone to the French front on purpose to meet him and to try if it were possible through him to exercise some conciliatory pressure, above all, on the military leaders. A long conversation that I had with him showed me very clearly that he—if he had ever been of warlike nature—was then a pronounced pacifist.

Extract from my Diary.

"On the Western front, 1917. We drove to the Camp des Romains, but in detachments in order not to attract the attention of the enemy artillery to our cars, for in some places the road was visible to the enemy. I drove together with Bethmann. When discussing the military leaders, he remarked: 'The generals will probably throw hand grenades at me when they see me.'

"An enemy flier cruised high up in the clouds over our heads. He circled around, paying little heed to the shrapnel bursting on all sides. The firing ceased, and the human bird soared into unapproachable heights. The artillery fire a long way off sounded like distant thunder.

"The French lines are not more than a couple of hundred metres distant from the camp. A shot fell here and there and a shell was heard to whistle; otherwise all was quiet. It was still early. The firing usually begins at ten and ceases at noon—interval for lunch—and begins again in the afternoon.

"Poincaré's villa is visible on the horizon in the green landscape. A gun has been brought to bear on the house—they mean to destroy it before leaving—they call this the extreme unction.

"The daily artillery duel began on our return drive, and kept up an incessant roar.

"St. Mihiel.

"We stopped at St. Mihiel, where many French people still remain. They were detained as hostages to prevent the town from being fired at. People were standing about in the streets watching the cars go by.

"I spoke to an old woman, who sat by herself on her house-steps. She said: 'This disaster can never be made good, and it cannot well be worse than it is now. It is quite the same to me what happens. I do not belong here; my only son has been killed and my house is burnt. Nothing is left me but my hatred of the Germans, and I bequeath that to France.' And she gazed past me into vacancy. She spoke quite without passion, but was terribly sad.

"This terrible hatred! Generations will go to their graves before the flood of hatred is abated. Would a settlement, a peace of understanding, be possible with this spirit of the nations? Will it not end by one of them being felled to earth and annihilated?

"St. Privat.

"We passed through St. Privat on our way to Metz. Monuments that tell the tale of 1870 stand along the road. Everywhere the soil is historic, soaked in blood. Every spot, every stone, is reminiscent of past great times. It was here that the seed was sown that brought forth the plan of revenge that is being fought for now.

"Bethmann seemed to divine my thoughts. 'Yes,' he said, 'that sacrifice would be easier for Germany to bear than to part with Alsace-Lorraine, which would close one of the most brilliant episodes in her history.'

"Sedan.

"On the way to the Crown Prince's quarters. There stands the little house where the historic meeting between Napoleon III. and Bismarck took place. The woman who lived there at the time died only a few weeks ago. For the second time she saw the Germans arrive, bringing a Moltke but no Bismarck with them, a detail, however, that cannot deeply have interested the old lady.

"With the Crown Prince.

"A pretty little house outside the town. I found a message from the Crown Prince asking me to proceed there immediately, where I had almost an hour's private conversation with him before supper.

"I do not know if the Crown Prince ever was of a warlike disposition, as people say, but he is so no longer. He longs for peace, but does not know how to secure it. He spoke very quietly and sensibly. He was also in favour of territorial sacrifices, but seemed to think that Germany would not allow it. The great difficulty lay in the contrast between the actual military situation, the confident expectations of the generals, and the fears entertained by the military laymen. Besides, it is not only Alsace-Lorraine. The suppression of German militarism spoken of in London means the one-sided disarmament of Germany. Can an army far advanced on enemy soil whose generals are confident of final victory, can a people still undefeated tolerate that?

"I advised the Crown Prince to speak to his father on the question of abdication, in which he fully agreed. I then invited him to come to Vienna on behalf of the Emperor, which he promised to do as soon as he could get leave."

On my return the Emperor wrote him a letter, drawn up by me, which contained the following passage: