Germany's Answer

I

IN order to have a complete comprehension of the present World War, it is necessary to consider Servia. This country, a neighbor of Austria, was for five centuries subject to Turkey, and now forms a small independent kingdom south of the Danube.

The independence of Servia has its origin in the fact that the country once belonged to Austria. By the Peace of Passarowitz in 1718, after the conquest of the Turks by Prince Eugene, what is to-day northern Servia, including Belgrade, fell to Austria; in 1739, twenty years later, Austria was obliged to cede this territory back to Turkey. This period of twenty years of freedom from the Turkish yoke had awakened in the Servian people so strong a feeling of self-confidence that a lasting spirit of resistance resulted, and in the nineteenth century insurrection followed insurrection, leading finally to the formation of an independent sovereign state. Sometimes it was Austria and sometimes Russia who protected Servia, and toward whom Servia’s policy inclined. The final result, however, was increased friendliness toward Russia on the part of Servia, and an increased friction with Austria, after Servia had become large and independent enough to feel herself the mother-country of a future great united national empire.

Before the last great Balkan wars, the kingdom of Servia had three million inhabitants. But the population of Austria included about seven million people of the same race: Servians, Kroatians, Slovenes, Dalmatians, and Bosnians. A zealous national agitation has succeeded sporadically, though not universally, in stirring up a movement among the people which aims at union with Servia. Blunders made by the government of Austria and particularly by that of Hungary, in the treatment of the South Slavs, have largely contributed toward adding fuel to the fire of the Greater Servian agitation, and the danger to the Austrian Empire which arises from it is very considerable, not only because Servia is Servia, and because she has partisans in the Hapsburg monarchy itself, but because she is the advance-guard of the pan-Slavic idea and the outpost of mighty Russia. Nor should we speak of Austro-Hungarian craze for dominion; it is the instinct for self-preservation of a great power, which cannot, without despairing of its own future, tolerate the existence of the Greater Servian idea either within its borders or on its frontiers. A prospective Greater Servia would not only sever large tracts of territory from the Austrian Empire, but would cut her off from the sea, which in these days means death to a great power. The Greater Servian idea and Austria cannot exist side by side.

The Servians imagine that they can play the same role among the South Slavs that Piedmont played in Italy. But the analogy is false. The South Slavs do not form a national unit, as the Italians did long before the creation of the political unit. The formation of such a national unit, which leads with irresistible force to the creation of a national state, demands a civilization that reaches back for centuries; a community of national ideals embodied in traditions, in literature, art, and science; and a reverence for great men, — all of which the Italians possessed, but the Servians do not. Granted that they speak dialects which bear considerable resemblance to each other, so that the language presents a certain uniformity; in culture and religion they are much divided. Servians and Kroatians hate each other, and Bosnia is even partly Mohammedan; no less important is the fact that the great majority of South Slavs do not want to hear anything about Greater Servia, and that, unlike the former Lombardo-Venetians, they are true and loyal subjects of the House of Hapsburg. Not until lately has a fervid propaganda sown the seed of the Greater Servian idea in these provinces, especially in the recently acquired Bosnia. The seed took root, and the result was the assassination of the Austrian heir-apparent, in the place of an honest political fight.

It was not to be thought of that Austria should content herself with the mere punishment of the assassins and their accomplices, even on the largest scale. Even taking into consideration and placing due importance upon the fact that the Austro-Hungarian policy was in part responsible for the dimensions assumed by the nationalist agitation, after the commission of the crime nothing remained for Austria, if she had any faith in her own future, and wished to retain her subjects, but to say, now or never. The only acceptable redress for the murder of the Archducal pair was to put an end once for all to the Greater Servian aspirations. The Austrian government presented its conditions in Belgrade. Their purport was that the bloody deed at Serajevo could not be treated as a solitary crime, but that it originated in the policy of Servia; therefore Austria demanded as redress the guarantee of a complete and permanent change of Servian policy. However, such a guarantee can never consist of mere paper promises. Austria demanded, therefore, conditions which would have placed Servia under her permanent control.

Although the world had long been prepared for a reckoning between Austria and Servia, yet it was the opinion of many that Austria had exceeded all reasonable expectations in her conditions and demands. And this with a time-limit of only forty-eight hours for the answer, which left only the briefest interval for getting into touch with St. Petersburg.

Was this abruptness intended, from the start, to render the keeping of peace impossible? Many say so, particularly those in foreign countries. It seems to me that the exact opposite could be said with more justice. Let us suppose that Austria had waived one or the other of her claims and confined herself to terms of studied politeness; the principal condition, the abandonment of the idea of a Greater Servia, and of the Greater Servian agitation, must of necessity have been expressed in unequivocal terms. This is the point on which the Servians, puffed up with pride as they are to-day by two victoriously conducted wars, and fixing all their aims and aspirations on nothing less than the establishment of a Greater Servia, could not be expected to yield. Even the acceptance of Austria’s conditions would have only been the prelude to new controversies. Expressed in markedly mild terms the Austrian demands would have accomplished nothing materially, and morally would have given an impression of weakness and irresolution, and would thereby have increased rather than diminished the danger of war.

For the danger of war lay, not with Servia, but with Russia. If Austria had given the impression of approaching the ‘ swelled-headed’ Servians with a certain timidity, Russian diplomacy would have conceived the idea that Austria might be intimidated by energetic bluffing. Such bluffing, however, always involves a danger.

It might have been that the Czar, without really desiring war, would have carried his threats so far that he finally could not draw back. More than one war in the history of the world originated in that way. Count Berchtold, the Austrian minister, by expressing his note in terms as incisive as possible, placed the Czar before the immediate alternative of war or peace. Uncompromising plainness offers a greater chance for peace than a policy of vacillation. The Servian note, therefore, gives ample testimony not only to the resolution, but also to the wise political foresight of Austrian policy.

II

It is clear that it was very hard for Russia to relinquish the outpost she had acquired in a Servia hostile to Austria. Not only political calculation, but temperamental sympathies, bind maternal Russia to the little Slav kingdom. It was to be anticipated that, even if the Russian government wished to keep the peace, public opinion, led by the Slavophils,would rebel and bring strong pressure to bear on it. But did not Austria’s interference in Servia arise from unavoidable necessity? What right had Russia to interfere in the quarrel between Austria and Servia? Servia lies

far from Russia, and well within Austria’s sphere of influence. Would the United States (aside from the Monroe Doctrine) permit a European power to interfere in her differences with Mexico or Colombia? What would England do, if a small power on her frontier constantly stirred up a number of her subjects, until finally the Prince of Wales was murdered by these agitators? The interference of Austria in Servia arose out of the dire extremity to which this small power, backed by Russia, had driven her.

Russia and England were about to divide Persia; France had taken Morocco; and should Austria have no right to interfere when the conspiracy against her heir apparent was hatched in Servia, before her very gates? Austria would not only have ceased to be a great power, but she would have been dismembered as a state, it she had not adopted vigorous measures.

The fundamental error of the English Blue Book² in the presentation of the case is the assumption of the right of Russia to assume the protection of Servia. With this assumption as a basis, Sir Edward Grey endeavored to move Vienna and Berlin to an amelioration of the Austrian demands. We have seen that if Austria had made her demands less sharp, sooner or later the war would have broken out just the same. If Sir Edward had really desired to maintain peace, he would have made it clear to Russia that a Russian protectorate in Servia was unjustifiable. Of course, this would have been rather hard for the Czar to concede, but he could have made it plain to this people that he felt obliged to withdraw his protecting hand from Servia, since the agitators there had become assassins: that a Czar could have no common cause with regicides. The possibility of such a diplomatic course as this was not alluded to by the least hint in the English Blue Book.

Perhaps American people are inclined to put the question whether even the existence of such an artificially constructed state as Austria is of sufficient value to be conserved with such immense bloodshed as is now taking place over the whole of Europe. It is true that Austria is a very artificial state, composed of many different nations. But if this state did not exist, a clever statesman once said, it ought to be invented. For did the Hapsburg Empire not exist, all those small nations — Slavs, Hungarians, Roumanians, and the whole Balkan peninsula, and all the rest — would form part of the body of the mighty Russia. Who then on the continent of Europe would be still able to resist the Russian colossus?

For the same reason it is a matter of course that the German Empire should stand at Austria’s side. Had we tolerated the subjugation and dismemberment of Austria by Russia we should have had to wage the next war against Russia and France alone. Under no circumstances could we leave this danger to our descendants; the preservation of the Hapsburg monarchy was therefore a vital issue for the German Empire.

It is entirely wrong to imagine that Austria and Servia would be natural enemies under all circumstances. King Milan, who was a very questionable personage, but a very clever politician, used to prophesy to the Servians that their hostility to Austria would end in disaster, and he therefore followed a distinctly pro-Austrian policy.

Yet, even if the present war should finally result in Servia’s becoming Austrian territory, the Servian national idea would not suffer from the fact, for the hoped-for national unity would be gained under the Austrian sceptre, and the united Slavic element would be of such strength that it would soon be accepted and recognized side by side with the German and Magyar elements, sufficiently to satisfy its sense of national self-importance.

But Servian self-assurance and the pan-Slavic ambitions of Russia have forbidden such reflections from the start.

III

The only possibility of preserving peace lay with England. Therefore, in the days of the crisis, I personally did not give up my hopes of peace till the last moment. For there seemed to me to be still a possibility that England would declare to Russia that, after the panSlavic policy in the Balkans had led to the murder of the Archduke, she found it morally impossible to stand by her further, and that England, in case of conflict, would remain neutral. Had England said this, Italy would have remained true to the Triple Alliance, whose supremacy would thus have been assured; Russia must have accepted her defeat, and peace would have been preserved.

We are all the more convinced that it lay in England’s hands to keep the peace by this means, as all the indications show that France would gladly have followed her lead. It is true that the idea of revanche has by no means died out, but has remained very strong all these forty-four years; nevertheless there can be no doubt as to the existence of a strong desire for peace among the great masses of the French people. Suppose then that England had appealed to this peaceful attitude in France. An emphatic declaration from London would have given predominance to this tendency, and Russia would have been obliged to withdraw. What an incalculable responsibility was placed in England’s hands! Every one knows that the civilization of Europe is at stake. If the Allies are victorious, the ultimate victory will not be with England and France, but with the country representing the most pernicious despotism that the world knows: Russia. In England there are not only many who realize this, but there have been plenty of voices raised to say so, and several ministers preferred resigning from the Cabinet to associating themselves with the murderers of princes.

But the majority of the Cabinet and Parliament decided otherwise;although she has no particular sympathy with pan-Slavism, not to speak of regicides, England has from the first, and also during the diplomatic attempts at intervention, placed herself on Russia’s side, and by this attitude made war inevitable. Sir Edward Grey and his colleagues have formed the notion that the interests of England’s power demand it.

Ranke, in his History of the World, said of Cleon, the Athenian demagogue, ‘Regard for the common weal of the Grecian world was not in him. . . . He had eyes only for the situation of the moment, for the immediate one-sided gain.’ Just so has England suppressed all regard for the common welfare of European civilization, and pursued only her own immediate ends. For if she had declared herself to Russia and France in the manner above mentioned, — and as honor dictated, — and if as a further consequence Russia had been obliged to abandon her role of protector of the Balkan peoples, a harmful reaction on the fundamental relations between Russia and England might have ensued; the Triple Entente would have been weakened; foreign policy might have required readjustment; England would perhaps have been led to seek a rapprochement with Germany, to live on amicable terms with her, and definitely to acknowledge her maritime importance. England did not wish to count with any of these possibilities, but preferred to allow the war to break out.

IV

But why did England go even further, and declare war on us herself?

The Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey, expressed himself with unequivocal clearness. He was firmly convinced that in the event of a war between the Triple Alliance and the Double Entente, the latter would be defeated and France be crushed by Germany. The German Chancellor, for this reason, offered the English government the assurance that in case of victory we would demand of France no European, but at the most, colonial territory. Whereupon Grey replied that ‘even without having her territory in Europe taken away, France could be so crushed that she would lose her position as a great power and be subject to German policy.’ To save France from this fate England took up arms, and without being bound by any contract, threw herself into the conflict from the first. For she apprehended that if France were overwhelmed, Germany would control all central Europe, including Belgium and Holland, and the balance of power in Europe, which guarantees the freedom of the nations, would be at an end.

One resolution is bound to another like the links of a chain: in order to preserve the European balance of power France must be assisted; this entails the extension of the alliance to Russia, England’s feared rival in Asia, on whose account again England must become the friend of a band of Servian murderers. To be sure, England affirms (and is believed in many parts of the world) that she declared war on us because we had violated the neutrality of Belgium. From the preceding statements, however, it is clear that this was in reality only a pretext. For after the war had once broken out it was hardly possible for England to withdraw; on the contrary, the opportunity to rid herself once for all of Germany’s rivalry on the sea appeared so enticing that the English ministers wished to take advantage of it. This was the real crisis, and it was decided before the question of Belgium’s neutrality was brought up. But it was, of course, very opportune for the English ministers that Germany’s line of action toward Belgium furnished them a pretext for posing as champions of the right and guardians of treaties.

Why did Germany give England this advantage?

If it were true that England entered into this war on account of Belgium’s neutrality, Germany would have cheated herself out of a sure victory by this unwise step. For, if England had not interfered, Italy would have remained with the Triple Alliance; how, in that case, could France and Russia have conquered, or even maintained themselves? Can any one credit the German Emperor, the Chancellor, the General Staff, all very sagacious personages, with such a blunder? Their conduct cannot be logically explained unless they were sure, not only that England would join the ranks of our enemies under any circumstances, but that the united Allies would themselves afterward make their way through Belgium.

One very important advantage for Germany, at the outbreak of the war, lay in the fact that it could hardly be expected that Russia and France would be able to open hostilities simultaneously: the Russians, with their cumbersome mobilization, the enormous extent of their empire, and the thinly distributed network of their railways, would not be able to take the field until several weeks later than their allies. It was to be anticipated, therefore, that the French would first advance up to the Franco-German frontier (two hundred kilometers in length, and thickly invested by forts and fortresses), and would wait there, without assuming the offensive, until the Russians, arriving from the east, had obliged the Germans to divide their forces. Then, however, as the Germans have amply fortified their French frontiers with fortresses at Strassburg, Metz, and other places, the attack would have followed through Belgium, on the much more exposed lower Rhine. Of course, the German General Staff knew that, since they possessed the great mortars which subdued Liege, Namur, Antwerp, and the French northern fortresses, the French fortresses along the Vosges must fall also; but with these places protected by the whole French army, this would take so long that the Russians would have time to arrive. The only possibility of averting from Germany this hazardous double conflict was to break into France, across her much longer and less protected northern frontier, through Belgium, and thereby gain such an advantage that a part of the army could be dispensed with and sent against the Russians. Although finally Germany did declare war on Russia because the latter was mobilizing in threatening force on the Austro-German frontier, this danger was in reality much greater than Germany imagined.

Only a few days after our army was mobilized in the west, the Russians appeared in great force on our eastern frontier.

The first day of mobilization in Germany was August 2. By August 16 the mobilization was so far completed that the Kaiser left Berlin to join the army. On August 20 the Germans occupied Brussels, and on August 21 and 22 the first great battle took place on the Franco-German frontier between Metz and Strassburg. But already, on August 23, the Russians appeared in vastly superior numbers on the eastern border of Prussia and drove the Germans back, so that the German general headquarters was forced to withdraw troops from the French field of operations and send them against the Russians.

It is clear that the Russians must have begun their mobilization a long time before we were aware of it. If we had waited longer before taking the offensive, we should not have needed to violate the neutrality of Belgium, nor should we have been able to do it, for by that time the French and English would have been on the way through Belgium; they would have invaded the Rhine country, occupied Aix-la-Chapelle and Treves, and then, with the strong Belgian strongholds of Liege and Namur as bases, would have been able to push their offensive operations farther into the Rhine provinces.

Would the Belgians have defended their fortifications as bravely against the French and the English as they did against us? Why then had they built their forts only on the German border and not on the French? One can be perfectly sure that they not only would not have defended these fortresses against the Allies, but would have turned them over to them as a base; because, if the war had progressed to such a stage, no one in Belgium would have doubted the ultimate victory of the Allies, and every Belgian would have trembled for Belgium’s existence, if the least opposition were made to the Allies.

In 1870, it was Germany that saved Belgium’s integrity. Napoleon III would have been ready to agree to the German Federation if we had allowed him a free hand in Belgium. Why then has Belgium, in spite of this, gone over to the enemies’ camp? Not because we were the ones who had just violated her neutrality. The others would have done the same, and it is very probable that French soldiers crossed the Belgian border even before the Germans did. The Belgians joined the Allies simply because they considered that side to be the strongest. (There was, too, the natural sympathy of the Belgian people for the French, growing out of the common language and religion.) It is always the surest course for a small country to pursue, to be on the side of the strongest. For years the French press has daily proclaimed that the French army alone, with its superior artillery and highly developed aviation, was a match for the Germans. The peaceful foreign policy of Germany they construed as fear, and ridiculed the Kaiser as ‘Guillaume le Timide.’ The political developments could be foreseen: that there would some day be a great coalition against Germany. The coalition came, and we stood two against seven. Belgium certainly seemed to have the greatest assurance of being among the victors by joining the other side.

For this reason, Belgium, in 1906, as has now become known, closed with France and England an eventual convention concerning military aid. Belgium did not close such a convention with Germany. This might be explained if Belgium — in spite of the memory of the French plans in 1870 — had been absolutely sure that this neighbor (on the south) at no time and under no circumstances would violate her neutrality. If this had been the reason, Sir Edward Grey would have told the German Ambassador, and would have been obliged to tell him, that France would not violate the neutrality of Belgium and that England was ready to guarantee that France would keep this obligation. Sir Edward did not give such a pledge to the German Ambassador. Was it possible for a German statesman under these circumstances to believe in the lasting neutrality of Belgium? Diplomats very easily find a pretext to set aside a promise. Is a country lying between two unfriendly neighbors, and taking military precautions against one of them and not against the other, in reality neutral?

What attitude should Germany take toward such a state? From Sir Edward Grey’s refusal to answer the neutrality question, Germany saw clearly that just as soon as the Russians were near enough, the French, perhaps aided by the English and Belgians, would attack Germany on that flank. Germany, therefore, had to consider which was the lesser of the two evils. If she proceeded against Belgium, there was the prospect of gaining large advantages before the Russians entered the conflict, — a hope that has only in small measure been realized. On the other hand there was the disadvantage in this move, that abroad, particularly in neutral countries, Germany would appear in the light of the peace-breaker. If, on the contrary, Germany had waited until the enemy had violated Belgium’s neutrality, she would have had the moral advantage of appearing in the light of the defender of the right, but at the same time would have lost almost all hope of victory against the stupendous odds. Under these conditions Germany chose the odium of appearing to the world as the treatybreaker, sure that she was so only in appearance, because the treaty had already been broken in fact from the other side.

Many take the standpoint, especially in neutral countries, that England hesitated until the last moment before going into the war, and that the violation of Belgium’s neutrality was the last drop which caused the goblet to overflow. This theory has since been exploded by a report from the Belgian minister in St. Petersburg, de l’Escaille, to his government, dated July 30, which has been found in Brussels. This document states that the assurance of English support gave the war party in Russia the majority. This was five days before Germany had violated Belgian neutrality and while the German Ambassador was still discussing the question of Belgian neutrality with Sir Edward Grey. How is this evidence of M. de l’Escaille’s report to be squared with the pretension of Sir Edward Grey in the English Blue Book that to the last he never undertook any obligation to Russia, to assist her against Germany? The answer is very simple. It is quite true that a formal treaty did not exist between England and Russia, any more than between England and France; notwithstanding, the leading men in St. Petersburg as well as in Paris were assured that England in case of war would be on their side. Grey’s fault is not that he gave them a promise of help, but that he failed to declare that England would not be on their side. That, and that alone, would have conserved the peace.

V

The real sequence of events is therefore the following: Sir Edward Grey, with consummate skill, let Germany see that England would participate in the war in any case, thus putting Germany into the position of having to violate Belgian neutrality in self-defense; and then announced to all the world, with much moral pathos, that the defense of this neutrality was the ground for England’s declaration of war.

One is now very well able to point out with the aid of several small mistakes in the English Blue Book that this artful policy of making Germany appear as the aggressor was very carefully followed through. Grey reported, on July 30, that the French Ambassador, M. Cambon, tendered him a communication from the French Foreign Minister which stated that Germany was much further advanced with her preparations than France. If one considers the statements of this report more closely, it becomes apparent that this French note could not possibly date from July 30, but from August l,³ at the very earliest, if not from even later. This contradiction was subsequently discovered in London, so that in the new edition of the Blue Book not only this date, but the term ‘yesterday, Friday,’ by which the false date betrays itself, has been simply left out in both the English and the French texts; in consequence this very important document now has no date at all. The documents have in this way been falsified in order to justify the assertion that Germany, four days before she began to mobilize, was already making aggressive preparations.

In another place, a falsification betrays itself. The attempt is to prove that Germany already on July 23, the day on which Austria tendered the note to Servia, began mobilization. In both the French and the English text, this July 23 is designated as Saturday. July 23, however, was a Thursday. This mistake also was discovered later and corrected in subsequent editions.

One may reply that even the German Chancellor himself stated that Germany had violated Belgian neutrality, because ‘necessity knows no law,’ and was conscious of being in the wrong. This can be explained. Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg lays much value on being recognized as absolutely loyal and truthful, which, in diplomacy, is not a very prevalent virtue. Because the formal violation of neutrality actually did come from the German side, it was characteristic of him to admit it openly. However, he immediately added, in his speech in the Reichstag, that he knew as a certainty that the neutrality had already been violated from the other side, and thereby had ceased to be in effect. In the same sense he told the British Ambassador, who announced the British declaration of war on the ground of this violation of neutrality, that England was going to war for a piece of paper. This did not mean, by any means, that in the eyes of the German Imperial Chancellor all treaties were only pieces of paper, but that this particular treaty had ceased to be anything more than a piece of paper, because it was no longer respected, not by us, but by either country.

VI

In the United States, many have taken sides against Germany, because they believed that they saw in the victory of the western powers a victory of liberalism, and in a German victory a triumph of militarism. Quite aside from the fact that Germany, in many respects, has far more political liberty than either France or England, the victory of the Allies would be a victory, not of the western powers, but of England and Russia. It is in reality these two powers who threaten the liberties of the nations to-day: England, who strives to rule the seas of the world and to subjugate the commerce of all nations to the law of her naval power; and Russia, whose army, even in time of peace, is larger than the armies of Germany, Austria, and Italy added together. Without those tremendous efforts made by Germany, — called by our enemies the ‘Prussian Militarism,’ — the mainland of Europe would long since have been under the dominion of the Cossacks and there would have remained nothing but the struggle between England and Russia for the dominion over Asia, which would mean to the victor world-domination.

Would that be a desirable aim for the development of the world’s history? All modern culture in all its wealth rests on polynationalism. If Germany and Austria are victorious in this war, the freedom of the nations will be preserved, because, no matter how strong Germany emerges from this struggle, she will still be far too weak to maintain a world - dominion. Germany lacks the mass, the bulk, the weight, and must rely for power on greater tension, activity, and efforts. Texas alone is much larger in area than Germany. But if England and Russia win, — France in comparison with these two hardly counts as a great power, — one will dominate the seas, the other the continents. Of course, England’s power will continue only if the British Empire continues to exist. Does not the United States already feel the injustice of the English interpretation of maritime law? To what extremes would England utilize her power, if she no longer, as a check, had Germany to consider?

Therefore we, in Germany, have the firm conviction that it is not for our own independence alone that we are fighting in this war, but for the preservation of the culture and freedom of all peoples.