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The Entente
ОглавлениеThe co-operation between Great Britain and France which was destined to save civilisation had its origin in the Entente between the two countries concluded by Lord Lansdowne and M. Delcassé in 1904.
That understanding was the logical sequence of German policy and of Germany’s resolution to impose her will upon Europe. It was the inevitable result of the use Germany made of her victory in the War of 1870: which should for all time serve as a reminder to the conquerors of a day not to forget that their grandsons will pay for their errors. Bismarck alone amongst the rulers of his nation saw the danger. But von Moltke and his supporters were able to override him, and he was forced to go with the tide.
It was in 1875 that Great Britain received her first shock respecting the extent of German ambitions. The Times correspondent in Paris, the celebrated de Blowitz, was able to expose the design then being hatched to attack France again solely because she was recovering too quickly from the effects of her defeat. It required the intervention of both England and Russia to prevent that outrage; and possibly also to open the eyes of the Emperor, Wilhelm I., to the machinations of his Chancellor. Bismarck never forgot nor forgave the letter which Queen Victoria wrote his sovereign on this occasion.
In his Reflections and Reminiscences Bismarck accuses Prince Gorchakoff of having concocted the whole story in order to get the credit of being the preserver of peace. Gorchakoff, who by that time was jealous of the great reputation of the younger man, was not sorry when, on May 10th, 1875, he was able to send from Berlin (where he had gone with the Czar) the famous telegram, “Maintenant la paix est assurée.” But the statement and the inference were founded on fact, however unacceptable Bismarck may have thought the form in which they were conveyed to the world. The real cause of the bitter reproaches with which he then and later assailed Gorchakoff was his annoyance at Russia having sounded the alarm. His reply when his own Emperor sent him Queen Victoria’s letter two months later was in Bismarck’s weakest style. He made no serious case for the defence. But so far as possible he cleverly shifted the ground, which was one of his favourite proceedings when dealing with the rather slow-witted Wilhelm.
In 1879 Germany laid the basis of the group of Central Powers by her treaty with Austria-Hungary. Three years later Italy was taken into the German fold. This consummation of the Triple Alliance put Germany at the head of a Coalition with a population aggregating 170 million.
The Triple Alliance was to all intents and purposes offensive in its nature. It forced Europe (and upon more than one occasion) to accept its decisions by a clear warning that the only alternative was to fight. But obviously such a policy was a certain road to war. Any reasonable knowledge of history or any ordinary comprehension of human nature should have led to the conclusion that (despite geographical obstacles) this offensive Alliance would undoubtedly bring into being a defensive Alliance of other Great Powers, and that the final result would be a test of strength.
It was only in 1892 that France emerged from an isolation which had lasted for more than twenty years. While even the treaty which was then made with Russia stipulated that it was dependent upon the maintenance of the existing territorial situation: for Russia made it plain that she would not support France in any attempt to recover Alsace and Lorraine.
But Germany was still able to be coercive. In 1905 she demanded and obtained the retirement from the Quai d’Orsay of M. Delcassé, whose part in certain conversations with England she had not pardoned.[1] Though it is fair to add that had the Prime Minister of the day (that eminent international financier but much less praiseworthy politician, M. Rouvier) supported his colleague, had he refused to allow his country to be humiliated, had he acted as did M. Clemenceau three years later, when Germany again attempted to dictate in the same fashion about the Casablanca deserters, the result would have been different.
In 1906 came Algeciras. While in 1908, when Austria-Hungary annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina, the Kaiser, in a speech of rare impudence, dared Russia to move.
The latter incident was the high-water mark of German domination in Europe. It is probable that the Panther was sent to Agadir primarily in order to test the firmness of the understanding between Great Britain and France: although that is a question which cannot be elucidated until certain documents which have not yet seen the light of day are published. In any event, from that time the German Government realised that unless it reversed its own policy (and that course was never contemplated) the bond between Great Britain and France was likely to become stronger year by year. In the ultimate result this consideration was not without its effect in fixing the date of the conflict—a date chosen by Germany to suit her own interests. But in the meantime the Wilhelmstrasse did what it could to soothe British apprehensions, mainly through its unwitting tool, Lord Haldane.
On the other hand, Agadir turned the tide in France. All who followed the course of national feeling in that country were struck by the significant change that was apparent in the years immediately preceding 1914. The catastrophe of 1870 left a depressed race which had little faith in its own rulers, and which only wanted to avoid, at any cost, another clash with Germany. When that danger threatened either an appeal was made to the other powers, or concessions were granted which could never have been wrung from France before 1870 or after 1910. M. André Tardieu has rightly said that the men of his generation, those who arrived at maturity about 1900, were too often prone to practise a patriotism of resignation.
This revulsion was a natural reaction. Agadir merely served to make it clear to observers that a new sentiment had taken possession of the nation. The late Comte Albert de Mun, in a book written at this period, told of the difference to be found throughout the country. There was no longer the cry of peace at any price. Certainly there was no thirst for military adventures. But the predominant idea was that Germany had too often exacted too much by clanking the sword; that the time had come to settle matters once and for all; that it was better to fight than constantly to yield to blustering from Berlin.
The country as a whole was finally convinced that war within a short time was inevitable; that it was made inevitable by the determination of Germany to dominate.
Upon this point the judgment of the people coincided with that of their political leaders. M. Poincaré and M. Clemenceau would doubtless have agreed upon that question more whole-heartedly than they have agreed about anything else then or since: Poincaré whom Clemenceau, aided by the late Camille Pelletan, did his utmost to defeat in the presidential election of 1913. M. Briand and Paul Déroulède would have been at one. M. Barthou gave a practical expression of his opinion when he had the courage to sacrifice his popularity in order to secure the enactment of the Three Years Service. Even M. Léon Daudet was, upon this subject, in accord with men with whom he saw eye to eye about nothing else. All thought that war was probable; the majority thought it was certain. An understanding with Great Britain was therefore of the first importance.
Unfortunately those in political power in England held an entirely different view about the future. They did not believe that Germany would ever attack France; and only admitted that, if the improbable did occur, German troops would doubtless seek a passage through Belgium. At the beginning of 1914 they saw no force in the contention that Germany was not overtaxing herself to maintain an Army and a Navy which she did not mean to use the day when she could no longer get her own way without resort to force of arms. To give these politicians credit they were entirely sincere. Otherwise they would never have spoken with such freedom. In January, 1914, Mr. Lloyd George publicly derided the idea of any possibility of war; and urged that it was the opportune time to reduce the naval estimates. He would have uttered very different words had he imagined that Germany nurtured any aggressive designs. For upon a previous occasion—at the time of the Agadir trouble in 1911—he had not hesitated to warn that country of the risk she was running in language so strong and so plain that it had alike startled and halted the Kaiser’s Government. But in 1914 the Liberals believed that the European situation was clearer and calmer; and many lesser political lights spoke and thought like Mr. Lloyd George.
These being the diverse views held in England and in France, it is interesting to examine what was in fact the agreement or arrangement which existed between the two countries at that time.
In November, 1912, Sir Edward Grey wrote the French Ambassador, M. Paul Cambon, as follows:
“On different occasions, during recent years, the French and British Military and Naval General Staffs have exchanged views. It has always been understood that these exchanges of views do not affect the liberty of either Government to decide, at any time in the future, whether or not it should support the other by force of arms.
“We have admitted that our exchanges of technical views do not constitute and ought not to be regarded as constituting an engagement which obliges either Government to intervene in an eventuality which has not yet presented itself, and which may never occur. For instance, the present division of the French and English Fleets does not rest upon an engagement to collaborate in case of war.
“You have, however, remarked that if either Government had grave reasons to fear an unprovoked attack on the part of a third power, it would be essential to know whether, in that event, one power could count upon the military assistance of the other.
“I agree that if either Government has reason to fear an unprovoked attack by a third power, or any other event threatening the general peace, this Government will immediately examine with the other as to whether they ought not to act together to prevent the aggression and to maintain peace; and, in that case, to seek the measures that they might be disposed to take in common. If these measures necessitate military action, the plans of the General Staffs will at once be considered, and the two Governments will then decide upon the effect which it may be desirable to give to them.”
This tells the whole tale. There was no further or other diplomatic understanding. Sir Edward Grey’s letter calls for only one comment. While it was stipulated that the division of English and French Fleets (whereby the latter was kept almost in its totality on guard in the Mediterranean so as to allow the former to concentrate in the North Sea) did not place any obligation upon Great Britain, yet obviously the result might be to put France at a disadvantage in the event of a sudden declaration of war. That is exactly what did occur in August, 1914, when the French Channel coast was virtually without any naval protection.
General Lanrezac has written[2] that England had promised her support to France in the twofold event of Germany being the aggressor and also violating Belgian neutrality; but that this undertaking was subject to such reserves that it might possibly only become effective too late. That statement is not in accord with the facts. M. André Tardieu gave a clearer and more accurate account of the situation when he said: “Even in the years preceding the war, in spite of the German danger which was felt to be rising, Great Britain was not bound. On August 2nd, 1914, she was free, and could, in full independence, choose her own path.”
While in 1919 the French Government, in a memorandum upon the Rhine Boundary which it submitted to the Peace Conference, referred to “l’engagement militaire défensif, très limité, qui en 1914 liait à la France la Grande-Bretagne.”[3]
The truth was that upon several occasions during the years preceding 1914 (and notably at the time of the Agadir crisis in 1911) the General Staffs of the two countries had made plans, which had been changed from time to time, for the possible participation of British troops in a war between France and Germany.
But there was no certitude that these plans would ever be used, for absolute reliance could not be placed upon English assistance. The Quai d’Orsay and the French General Staff held identical views upon this point. They thought, and hoped, that in any German violation of Belgian neutrality Great Britain would see an unavoidable casus belli. But the General Staff was obliged to make its plans without counting entirely upon this support; or, at best, alternatively.
The evidence given by General de Castelnau and Maréchal Joffre before la Commission d’Enquête sur le Rôle et la Situation de la Métallurgie en France, fully confirms this statement.
General de Castelnau said:
“Put yourself in the position of the person who, in 1912-’13, established the plan of war. Had a prophet foretold that England would join with us and America also? Germany held at that moment all England and all America to feed her.
“The President of the Commission: Did our General Staff make its plan having the idea that in the event of war Germany might be fed by England and America?
“General de Castelnau: It was a current idea.
“The President: Nevertheless there was an agreement (accord) between France and England.
“General de Castelnau: Agreement? I don’t think so. What do you mean by England?
“The President: The British Empire taken as a whole. There was an understanding (entente).
“General de Castelnau: What understanding?
“The President: An understanding that should have ensured at least a benevolent neutrality in case of a declaration of war.
“General de Castelnau: I don’t know about that understanding. There had been interviews, conversation with the English General Staff, yes. But never with the English Government, at least not to my knowledge.”[4]
Some days later the President of the Commission asked Maréchal Joffre: “How could General de Castelnau say that he did not know of the agreement made with the English General Staff upon the subject of an eventual participation of the English Army?”[5]
Joffre replied: “I cannot tell you what General de Castelnau said. It is certain that this agreement existed conditionally, that is to say that England had not made any engagement. Therefore the measures to be taken if England joined and if England did not join were both considered. There were agreements between the General Staffs, but there were no diplomatic agreements, but only between the General Staffs. You know that England only came in some days after the outbreak of the war. Personally, I was convinced that she would join, but after all, there was no engagement on her part. There were only the plans on the means of embarking and disembarking, and the places which should be reserved for the troops.”
The remainder of Joffre’s evidence on this point was (as on so many others) confused and contradictory. But upon the whole, while admitting that there was no certainty of British aid, he sought to excuse himself for not extending his Left further by suggesting that he counted upon six British Divisions.[6]
But the French General Staff was also hampered by not knowing what would be the attitude of Belgium in the event of her territory being invaded by German troops. This remained an enigma until the last moment. Lord French has said with reason that it is regrettable that Belgium did not decide earlier upon the line she should adopt in the hypothesis of a general war. Joffre has declared that he relied upon the collaboration of the Belgian Army since it was reasonable to suppose that certain forts would not have been constructed except for the express purpose of repelling any attack by Germany. But at best this was a supposition based upon probabilities. The question was always considered so doubtful that amongst the more important matters which the French General Staff had noted for special inquiry, in any period of political tension preceding a possible war with Germany, was whether the Belgians were making preparations in their fortresses on the Meuse. No better refutation could be given of the German falsehood that Belgium had been lacking in loyal observance of the treaty that guaranteed her independence. But the resulting uncertainty was a handicap to the French General Staff.
As a matter of fact it was only in July, 1914, that the Chief of the Staff, General de Selliers de Moranville, submitted to the Minister of War the plans for the mobilisation of the Belgian Army in the case of a German invasion; while these plans contemplated not the defence of the Meuse, but “la position de Gèthale.”[7]
It was only when Germany had served notice that she intended to disregard the neutral rights which she had guaranteed that the attitude of Belgium was definitely known.
The decision of the British Government rested upon more complex grounds. Whether or not England should support France was a question which gave rise to a certain division of opinion throughout the country; but to a much more acute and more dangerous one within the Cabinet itself.
Mr. Asquith saw from the outset the risk of allowing France to be overwhelmed; but, always a parliamentarian rather than a statesman, he did not press his view forcibly upon his colleagues; nor is it certain that he would have done so in any event. Mr. Winston Churchill was throughout in favour of standing side by side with France. Mr. Lloyd George (then Chancellor of the Exchequer) was at first undecided, although upon the whole he seemed likely to be won over by the arguments of Mr. Churchill. But on Thursday, July 30th, a deputation of bankers and financiers represented to him that the interests both of the country and of the world at large demanded that Great Britain should stand aside and should not take part in any conflict.[8] Such a decided opinion, coming from such a quarter, naturally had its effect upon Mr. Lloyd George. In the critical days which followed he still hesitated, but his tendency was then to favour the policy of non-intervention. This was also in accord with the view held at that time by the majority of the Cabinet.
Sir Edward Grey seemed to be hoping against hope that war might be averted. It was to this sincere statesman a real tragedy to see the structure which he had built to maintain peace dissolving before his eyes. M. Paul Cambon has said[9] that during this terrible week there were in Sir Edward Grey two men, struggling against each other: the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who realised by the reports from all the Embassies that a war seemed inevitable, and the Idealist, who could not bring himself to take any step which might seem to bear the nature of a threat, for fear that he might thereby involve England in the struggle.
The part taken by Lord Haldane is not so clear. As Secretary of State for War (in 1914 he was Lord Chancellor) he had some years earlier been responsible for changes of a far-reaching nature in the Army and in the military system of the country. Those who are qualified to speak with authority upon such matters differ in their opinion of his work at the War Office. Others who after 1914 criticised Lord Haldane upon different grounds were perhaps sometimes too sweeping in their condemnation. But to some extent he brought this upon himself. For while the value of his reforms may be a subject for discussion, it is a fact (proved by his own statements) that he was befooled by the German Emperor and his entourage.
On account of his supposed knowledge of German mentality, and his actual friendship with many German politicians, Lord Haldane was relied upon to advise Downing Street about the real intentions of the Wilhelmstrasse, and the state of public opinion in what he had once called his spiritual home. It is on record that he told the country that Germany had no warlike intentions, and that there was no reason to be alarmed. Later, but subsequent to the outbreak of war, he stated that he had really been uneasy ever since his last visit to Berlin. Whether or not he told that to his colleagues is less clear. But it is also less important. That only affects the question of Lord Haldane’s sincerity. If he told the Cabinet and the country the same thing it means that he was hoodwinked in Berlin. That is the more probable, the most charitable, and on the whole the pleasanter explanation, though it is one which Lord Haldane’s vanity would never allow him to proffer. But if he disclosed the danger to the Cabinet, and at the same time lulled the public into a false sense of security, his fault is greater and his responsibilities graver.
The attitude adopted by the leaders of the Opposition, Mr. Bonar Law and Lord Lansdowne, in voluntarily promising to support the Government if it went to war, undoubtedly had an effect upon some members of the Cabinet. Nevertheless, the division of opinion (Lord Morley, Mr. John Burns, and Lord Beauchamp being unalterably opposed to any forcible intervention) still prevented a definite decision. On July 27th, M. de Fleuriau, then Chargé d’Affaires in London, telegraphed to Paris that the German and Austrian ambassadors were letting it be understood that they were “sure” that England would remain neutral. While as late as Saturday, August 1st, Sir Edward Grey, after a Cabinet Council held that day, informed M. Cambon that the Government did not feel able to decide in favour of taking part in a European war. The French Ambassador, in protesting, dwelt at length upon the gravity of such a course; and referred in particular to the fact that it was as a result of the arrangement between the General Staffs of the two countries that the French Channel coast was left open to German assaults.
The Cabinet met again on the morning of Sunday, August 2nd. There is some reason to believe (although any absolute confirmation is lacking) that Sir Edward Grey, while reiterating that he had taken no engagement as Foreign Minister which bound the country, and while himself not urging British participation in the conflict, intimated that if the Government decided to take no action in the event of the violation of Belgian neutrality, his usefulness in Downing Street might be gone. There is likewise some ground for thinking that Mr. Lloyd George was less than ever disposed to support those who favoured acting closely with France. But one thing certain is that the meeting came to an end without any further decision having been reached. One Cabinet Minister subsequently told me that he, Lord Beauchamp and others, who were in favour of England remaining neutral, left the meeting convinced that their view would prevail.[10]
But later in the day there was another council. Matters then came to a head; and the Cabinet decided that a German attack on the French Coast would be considered a casus belli, and that the British Fleet would co-operate to repel it.
In the course of the evening this decision was communicated to the French Ambassador. During his twenty years at Albert Gate M. Cambon’s greatest hope had been for an effective alliance with Great Britain, his greatest fear that it might not be forthcoming at the supreme moment. That Sunday night he judged the situation with his habitual discretion and acumen. He knew that his cause was won; that a great nation did not wage war by halves. The moment she decided to join forces at sea it inevitably followed that Great Britain would likewise support France on land. If anyone had doubts on that point they vanished when Germany waved aside her guarantee of Belgian neutrality, and Sir Edward Goschen asked for his passports.
Unfortunately the military authorities were not of one mind about the use to be made of the Expeditionary Force. Some time was lost in awaiting the arrival of a French Military Mission. It then appeared that Sir Douglas Haig was in favour of delaying the despatch of the British troops until events showed whether it would be better to send them to Belgium or to France. While Lord Kitchener (who had become Minister of War) thought that it would be wiser to concentrate them near Amiens. But Sir John French, General Wilson, and the majority agreed with the representative of the French General Staff, Colonel Huguet, that it was wiser to abide by the original plans, made before the war, whereby the British would take their stand behind Maubeuge in the Cambrai-Le Câteau zone.
This indecision showed in the very first days of the war the vital weakness of Allies who had no complete preconceived plans of joint action. It was the basic error which was destined to prolong the war; and, at times, to jeopardise the issue.
Germany began the struggle with the advantage of being the aggressor, who knew exactly what she meant to do, and had arranged how to do it.
For some time after 1870 von Moltke (who remained Chief of the Staff until 1888) thought that Germany would be strong enough to take the offensive against both France and Russia in the event of a simultaneous war with each of those countries. It was his growing fear that the rapid recovery of France might render that plan unsafe, which led to the attempt to fasten another quarrel on that country in 1875. When that plot was exposed, von Moltke changed his plan to one which, devoid of all technical details, consisted in a defensive campaign as regards France, and an offensive one against Russia.
In 1888 von Moltke was succeeded by Count Waldersee, who as Quartermaster-General had been his active coadjutor since 1882. At one time Waldersee favoured an offensive against France. But finally he maintained von Moltke’s plan, with the reservation that if the time of year when hostilities broke out rendered a full offensive against Russia impracticable, France would be attacked between Toul and Epinay.
Three years later von Schlieffen (the greatest German strategist since von Moltke) succeeded Waldersee. He was soon called upon to reconsider the whole situation in view of the fact that an alliance between France and Russia had actually been concluded. For some years he also maintained von Moltke’s plan, although more through necessity than by conviction. But finally he adopted one which, in brief, contemplated an attack against the French centre, combined with an envelopment of the French Left. This naturally involved the invasion of Belgium.
But later von Schlieffen evolved a second plan. As the years went by he constantly strengthened his Right; the very gist of his project being the envelopment of the French Left. By degrees he ultimately arrived at the idea of throwing nearly four-fifths of his mobilised forces upon the left wing of the French Army, while the invasion of Holland was not entirely eliminated from these calculations.
The younger von Moltke, who became Chief of the Staff in 1906, inherited this plan. While he did not change its character he does not appear to have adopted it with any enthusiasm. He had neither the courage nor the resolution to sweep it aside, but he nibbled at it. Von Schlieffen had constantly worried his assistants to make the Right stronger, but von Moltke strengthened his Left at the expense of his Right. Undoubtedly von Schlieffen’s plan was an audacious conception; and it required a strong and bold man to put it into execution. But von Moltke was naturally feeble and vacillating.[11]
Any country which does not ensure that its diplomatic and military authorities work closely together is courting disaster. Military measures taken without proper regard for the diplomatic results (which again may entail military consequences) are equally as dangerous as diplomatic conventions made without due reflection upon their military repercussion. It may be impossible always to hold an even balance; but to do so ought to be the constant endeavour. Bismarck was always mindful of this national necessity. His action in altering in the very presence of von Moltke the Kaiser’s telegram from Ems (which, in its original form, dashed the hopes of a war for which both had schemed and prepared) is an outstanding if unpleasant example of a Foreign Office and a War Office really working together. In the settlement of the terms of peace Bismarck and von Moltke each made concessions to the other; although the statement that the former was entirely opposed to the retention of Alsace and Lorraine must be taken with some reserve. But certainly the Chancellor and the Chief of the Staff were in full accord when in 1875 they would wantonly have attacked France had it not been for the intervention of Great Britain and Russia.
After war had actually been declared Germany twice abandoned this sound policy; and acted upon Bernhardi’s theory that the diplomatists should shape their course in such a way as will best carry out and second the designs of the High Command. In both instances the result was disastrous. The invasion of Belgium had the effect of immediately bringing England into the war. Great as was the initial advantage to be gained through entering France by way of the Meuse, it was more than offset by having the British Empire as an active foe from almost the first day of the war. While what little the diplomatists could do afterwards only aggravated the situation and increased the final reckoning, Germany still pays for those unfortunate statements that a treaty is a scrap of paper, and that necessity knows no law, in the distrust with which she is viewed by the world at large. Bismarck, always more adept than his successors, put the contention in a more convincing light when he once said “All contracts between great states cease to be unconditional and binding as soon as they are tested by ‘the struggle for existence.’ No great nation will ever be induced to sacrifice its existence on the altar of fidelity to contract when it is compelled to choose between the two.” The soundness of that statement was illustrated more than once during the war. But it is one thing to denounce a treaty because it affects the safety of the State, and another for years deliberately to prepare to violate it for aggressive ends.
Equally fatal was the military decision ruthlessly to press the submarine warfare regardless of the diplomatic consequence; which, in that case, was the addition of the United States to the list of Germany’s opponents.
These examples are glaring. But the British Government committed (and seems likely again to commit) a fault of an exactly similar nature. Indeed, in July, 1914, one vital distinction between the position of Great Britain and Germany, to the disadvantage of the former, was that there was a practical gap in the field which should have been closely covered by the combined work of the Foreign Office and the War Office. Since there was no defensive alliance between England and France the latter was forced to draw its plan of campaign not only in ignorance of the eventual attitude of Belgium (that it was perhaps impossible to avoid), but not knowing even until after the actual outbreak of hostilities whether there would be any British troops in the French line: not knowing, therefore, to what point it would be necessary to extend the French Left. The evidence of Joffre and of de Castelnau, and above all Sir Edward Grey’s letter to M. Paul Cambon, show that while there had been conversations between the General Staffs there was no diplomatic agreement. Even the interviews between the staffs were so little binding in their nature that after the war began the question of where the British troops should make their junction with the French Army was again a subject of discussion; while in the end only four divisions were sent instead of the six upon which the French General Staff had partially relied.
At first sight the result of this limping policy would seem to bear hardly upon France. But the brunt was bound to fall with equal weight upon England. British troops were sent to try to carry out a plan of campaign which had been drafted without the assistance or assent and without engaging the responsibility of any Englishman: a plan of campaign which foresaw nothing which did happen, and which made little or no preparation for much that was bound to happen: a plan of campaign which, in the words of a French critic[12] who speaks with some authority, was “humanly impossible.”