The Balkans and Diplomacy

I WAS reading the other day, in some English paper, the observation that the quarrels of the great powers were now transferred to Eastern Europe and had involved the Balkan States. Nothing could be further from the truth. The recent events in the Balkans are not a mere extension of the great European war; we must never forget that in the East we must find not only the occasion but the cause of it. For a hundred years it has been foretold that when the inevitable catastrophe of Turkey took place, the fire which arose in the East would spread through the world. This has now happened. Not only was the difference between Serbia and Austria the occasion of the war, but in the East is a deeper cause to be found.

And in the East, too, we can see most clearly the great principles which are at stake. Writing at a moment when the whole world is watching hour by hour the tragic issues of a struggle in which the future of the nations is involved, it may be worth while to pause for a moment to consider, not the daily bulletins, but the greater issues for which the war is being waged. Whatever may be the event of battles and diplomacy, this cannot be changed. On the one side we have the effort by Germany, in alliance with Turkey, to establish herself as a predominant power in the Near East; on the other, the Allies fighting for the establishment of the Balkan States on the principle of the self-government of the peoples.

To understand all that is involved, we must go back to the past.

I

To those who are acquainted with the past of the Eastern problem, nothing can appear more paradoxical than that Great Britain should be fighting on the side of Russia against Turkey and Germany. That this is so is the result of the great change in British policy that has taken place during the last generation. A hundred years ago it was a maxim that the Turkish Empire must be maintained. The reason for this (it had first been asserted by Pitt) was that Turkey controlled the whole of the Eastern shores of the Mediterranean, and it was essential for Great Britain to keep open and free the road to India. Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt had been the first stage of the advance on India. The dissolution of the Turkish Empire would in those days have meant, not the establishment of separate and independent states, but the extension of French or of Russian influence. The preservation of the Turkish Empire was, therefore, the key of British policy; though even then we find an important exception made when England supported France and Russia in the establishment of the kingdom of Greece.

With this general principle there came to be associated, as an essential part of it, the reform of the Turkish government. I say essential, for the English nation would never have consented to be a party to keeping other races permanently under Turkish misrule, unless there had been some hope of ameliorating the government. The founder of this policy was Sir Stratford Canning, afterwards Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the ablest European who has ever had to do with Eastern affairs. Won over, as many others have been, by the genuine esteem which he felt for the fine qualities of the Turkish peasant and the Turkish gentleman, he was strong enough to impose his will on the government and the nation, and to enlist their full support for the double policy, the maintenance and reform of Turkey.

This policy failed. With the experience we now have, we may say it was bound to fail; the history of the twenty years that followed the Crimean War showed that Turkey had not within herself the capacity, and scarcely had the wish, to change the nature of the government, which remained effete, corrupt, and often abominably cruel.

It was the events of the year 1877 and the Bulgarian atrocities which opened the eyes of the nation to the true nature of Turkish rule; it is true that for a time the government continued their older policy, but thenceforth no government has been able, even if it had wished to do so, to put the maintenance of the Turkish Empire above the welfare of the people, whether they be Mohammedan or Christian. As Mr. Gladstone said in 1880, ‘Desirous as we are to avoid the complications which would arise from the destruction of the Turkish Empire, the accomplishment of the duties of the Turkish government toward its subjects is for us no longer the secondary question, it is the first question. It is the principal aim to which our efforts are directed.’

In using these words, Mr. Gladstone was speaking, not only for himself and his party, but for the country and the future. If there could have been any doubt, it was removed by the character of Abdul Hamid and the nature of his government. It is not necessary here to recount the story of his reign; it is enough to recall that his government was such as to make it impossible for any English administration to extend to it their support. The work of 1877 was completed by that of 1896; and it is interesting to note that Lord Salisbury, who in his earlier years had assisted Lord Beaconsfield in his pro-Turkish policy, was in his later years won over to the recognition that it could no longer be maintained.

Two other factors have been influential in altering the attitude of Great Britain. At the beginning of the nineteenth century the weakening of Turkey would necessarily have meant the transference of power and territory to other European states. Since then the gradual working of the forces of civilization has changed this. One of the greatest events in modern history was the gradual recovery by the oppressed Christians in the East of the will and the capacity to assert themselves as elements in the European community. This process, which began with the revolt of the Serbs, the Roumanians, and the Greeks, culminated when, by the help of Russia, Bulgaria was set up in 1878 as an autonomous principality. It was the discovery of a nation whose very existence had been forgotten. The Balkan question assumed a new form when it became evident that the subject population, as it was rescued from Turkish rule, could be incorporated with the self-governing states already existing.

Equally important was the establishment of British control over Egypt. On the merely political side, it gave to Great Britain so strong a position in the Levant that an extension of Russian influence would no longer be a danger to be guarded against by every means. Coöperation between the two empires became possible. Moreover, the admirable results of British government in Egypt made by contrast the continuance of Turkish misgovernment more intolerable. Thirdly, it showed — and this is of the greatest importance for England, which rules over so many Mohammedan subjects in India — that the revised Eastern policy was not inspired by any conflict between the Cross and the Crescent, but that it would be for the benefit of Mohammedans and Christians alike. It must always be remembered that the rule of Turkey has been as intolerable to her Arab as to her Slavic subjects.

The combination of these influences, therefore, freed British policy from what had in truth been a constant hindrance and limitation. The change did not necessarily imply any active enmity to Turkey or active coöperation with Russia; what it did was to render it possible to take a free and unprejudiced view of circumstances at any particular moment. It must not be supposed that the older influences completely disappeared; they subsist indeed even to the present day; they naturally long remained in the Foreign Office and the diplomatic service, and even now no one will find in England anything but a real and strong personal good-will to the Turks as individuals. England does not quickly give up an ally of many generations.

II

Great Britain has then resigned the post of the protector of Turkey. Germany has stepped into the vacancy, and she has done so with characteristic energy and ability. Her Eastern policy shows a clearness of conception, a recognition of real possibilities, which forms a great contrast to the vague, illdefined, and visionary motives which have been apparent in her colonial policy. She saw that in Asia Minor and Mesopotamia there was a great field open for German influence, organizing power, and capital. The key to this was in the hands of the Turkish government. Germany would give her support to the maintenance of Turkish power; Turkey would grant the necessary concession for the railways by which her Asiatic possessions would be opened up to German enterprise. And behind was a more grandiose conception: Germany, the ally and patron of Turkey, might become the organ for a general reassertion of the power of Islam which would be the strongest weapon against England and France. Here at least was a field for expansion in which sea power would be useless; once let a reorganized and powerful Turkish government, with an army disciplined and trained by German officers, be established in Syria and Bagdad, and then would come the time for a move from the most vulnerable side on Egypt and on India.

The reasons which had brought about the weakening of sympathy between England and Turkey would not affect Germany. Rather was there a natural sympathy with Abdul Hamid. It is related of the Sultan that he, on one occasion, said that the worst of the English was that they always cared more for the welfare of the subjects than the prosperity of the state. His ideal, which he shared with the rulers of Germany, was the authoritative state, the power of which was based on the army, and which was held together by a militant and religious nationality. To it the subject nations must bow, and those who would not do so must pay the penalty. It is a principle of which the German Emperor has made himself the most eloquent exponent. We know the phrases, ‘ Suprema lex regis voluntas’ — ‘Him who opposes me will I crush.’ As German writers have themselves pointed out, there was indeed a close affinity between Islam and German Christianity, for German official Protestantism is in truth a militant deism, and the logical expression of this belief in such acts as the massacres of the Armenians was no deterrent. Lest sympathy might be aroused among the people of Germany, the discussion of the massacres in the press was forbidden.

It was a result of this policy that German influence in Turkey always began by the reorganization of the army, for in the Germanic states the army was the foundation.

There was one obstacle to success. It was necessary that there should be secure and easy access from Germany and Austria to Constantinople; but the Slavic states interposed. If they became powerful, prosperous, and self-sufficing, then they might form an insuperable barrier to the attainment of these great plans. To these plans, therefore, they must be sacrificed; it was their part to be brought into the Germanic system; if any refused, then it would be destroyed. The ambitions of Germany were bound up with the Austrian supremacy over the Western Balkans.

And so it came about that just at the time when Britain, taught by a long experience, had been converted to the recognition that the future of the Balkans is with the Balkan peoples, the German and Austrian empires were ready to take up her discarded policy.

Whatever may be the result of the war, the British nation has no reason to disown the policy which has led to it.

III

This was the situation when two events took place, each of them quite unforeseen by European diplomatists — the revolution in Turkey and the formation of the Balkan League.

Nowhere was the revolution of 1908 hailed with more delight than in England and in France. There were many who believed that the dream of a liberal and enlightened reforming government in Turkey was to come true. The British government, while it did all that it could to show its sympathy, necessarily had to act with more reserve; and events were soon to show that the hopes which had been created were to be disappointed.

It required, indeed, only small historical knowledge and political insight to show the difficulties of creating a strong and well-governed state in Turkey on the basis of a constitutional government, especially when the revolution was due to a secret conspiracy and owed its success to the support of the army. In a country such as France, which forms both a national and geographical unity, a popular revolution might become the foundation for a strong and effective government. In Turkey every such condition was absent. There were two directions which reform might take. The first was the greater development of local self-government, and the division of the Empire into half-autonomous provinces, each of them with its own representative assembly. This would give free scope to the different races and religions within the Empire; but it could be foreseen that in Turkey, as in Austria, the population of each of these provinces would aim at more and more self-government, and eventually at complete separation and association with the conationalists beyond the borders of the Empire. In Austria the progress of this tendency has been prevented chiefly by geographic and economic considerations. Bohemia, Hungary, and Croatia were each in a way necessary to each other. But what reason can be found, economical, political, or geographical, why the Arabs of Yemen, the Syrians of Lebanon, the Armenians, the Albanians, the Greeks and Bulgarians of Macedonia, should remain under the same government? There was only one, that which had brought them together, — the Turkish conquest, the Turkish army and the power of the central government at Constantinople. This was seen by the Young Turks; and indeed, from the beginning, the chief motive power among them was the strengthening of the Empire. Their chief ambition was to eliminate the control of the European powers, and to present Turkey to the world as a national and autonomous state such as is Germany or Italy or France.

In order to do this it was necessary to strengthen rather than weaken the central institutions, and to lay stress on those elements which bound the Empire together, — the army, Turkish nationality, and the faith of Islam. As this became clear, once more the influence of Germany became predominant, for Germany had carefully dissociated herself from the proposals for giving provincial autonomy, and the more the Empire was endangered, the more did the young Turks look to Germany for military advice and support.

IV

Great revolutions are always followed by civil and foreign war. Turkey was no exception to this rule. The effect of the revolution was at once to intensify every difficulty of government, and to bring about the dissolution of the Empire by internal convulsions and foreign attack.

We cannot recount the complicated events of the next years. In Crete, in Bosnia, Albania, and Arabia, fresh disturbances and fresh problems arose; the government, in its desire to maintain the integrity of the Empire, was driven to the most extreme measures in order to crush the forces which were driving to dissolution. This was particularly the case in Macedonia; in that unhappy country anarchy increased; it appeared to be the policy of the government, by settling Moslem refugees from Bosnia, gradually to diminish the weight of the Christian element in the population. It was probably this, rather than the massacres, that was the immediate cause of the formation of the Balkan League, the object of which was to rescue Macedonia.

There is no event in history on which we can look with such complete satisfaction as the Balkan War. It has in it a singular dramatic justice. After the long and wearisome troubles arising from the misgovernment of the Turks in Europe, after the dilatory and futile procrastination of the powers, always postponing effective action in the fear of their mutual jealousies, it was not from them that in the end the decisive and saving action came, but from the descendants of the Christian states which five hundred years before had fallen under the cruel bondage of the Turk. It is noticeable that of this aspect of these great events we find in Austrian and German writers no recognition, and the governments still represent the whole merely as a move of Russia in her struggle for influence with Austria.

As a matter of fact so far as our information goes, the Balkan Union was not definitely founded as the result of pressure exercised from St. Petersburg. It seems to have sprung from the Balkan peninsula itself. Help and encouragement were undoubtedly given by some of the able and energetic Russian diplomatists, as indeed they were given by at least one Englishman; and of course the Russian government was kept informed, for the programme was based on Russian approval; but the government seems to have maintained a good deal of reserve and avoided committing itself. Russian diplomatists are allowed and use a large amount of freedom. German and Austrian writers always ignore the possibility of spontaneous action on the part of the smaller Slav states, and indeed a student of German writings might easily forget that after all it was the Christian inhabitants of the Balkans who were primarily concerned; they consistently regard them merely as pawns to be moved about by the great powers.

If the foundation of the League was unexpected, equally unexpected was its success. In particular, Austrian and German opinion looked for an easy victory for Turkey. As a matter of fact, within a month the Turkish armies were crushed in every field, and the victorious Bulgarians were marching to Constantinople. This very success was to be fatal for the League, and the present war is the immediate result of its rupture. In truth the allies had been too successful. ‘ The war which had begun as a war of liberation ended in one of conquest and personal ambition.’ The immediate cause for the rupture was the division of Macedonia; behind it lay the great ambitions of Bulgaria.

How this came about is well known. In the original treaties between Greece and Bulgaria, M. Venizelos, with much wisdom, had refrained from asking for any agreement as to the division of territory acquired after the war. Between Serbia and Bulgaria an agreement had been made; it was to the effect that Bulgaria should have the centre and south of Macedonia and all territory to the east; Serbia the north of Macedonia and all to the west and north. A small intervening strip on which no agreement could be come to, including Uskub, the capital of old Serbia, was reserved for the arbitration of the Czar. No sooner was the war over than it became apparent, firstly that the rival claims of Greece and Bulgaria to the coast of Macedonia, including Salonica, could with difficulty be reconciled; and secondly, that Serbia would not be content with that portion of territory assigned to her, and would have to ask for a revision of this treaty.

The request of Serbia for a revision of the treaty was not in itself unnatural. The conquest of the whole of Thrace and Adrianople had given to Bulgaria a large increase of territory, including a commanding position both on the Black Sea and the Ægean. Had Serbia succeeded in her desire to gain access to the Adriatic, the gains of the two states would in these spheres have been commensurate. The intervention of Austria, the refusal of a portion of the Adriatic, and the establishment of an independent Albania completely altered the whole situation. Had the treaty been carried out, the result would have been that Bulgaria would have won the whole coast from Enos to Salonica and the interior as far as Monastir; she would have gained a predominance in the Balkans which would have permanently altered the relations of the two states. She would in addition have had an extremely favorable geographical position, for the nature of the frontier would have given her a very strong claim to the eventual acquisition, if not of Constantinople, at least of Gallipoli and the control of the Dardanelles.

Serbia, on the other hand, would have been placed in a most unfavorable position; with the exception of Montenegro she would have been entirely inclosed by Austria, Bulgaria, and the new Albania, which would have been under Austrian influence; she would, as before, have been completely cut off from the sea, and any alliance between Austria and Bulgaria would at once have threatened her very existence. Even the offer of commercial advantages in some ports on the Adriatic could not have remedied this, because in the case of war Serbia would have had no frontier by which she could establish communications with possible allies. The danger of this is illustrated by the present situation; at this moment the whole existence of Serbia as an independent state is threatened, simply because she has no means of independent communication with the outer world. This is the case even after the revision of the treaty, a revision which at least has given her a common frontier with Greece; by the original treaty even this would not have been secured.

We may, therefore, say that, even though there may be much to criticize in many of the proceedings of Serbia, her general claim was one which could in equity be maintained.

Bulgaria pressed her claims to the utmost; she refused to consider the Serbian request; she refused all concessions to Greece; she refused a claim made by Roumania for some rectification of the frontier, supported though it was by Austria; and it was to Bulgaria that the final rupture was due. Negotiations were still pending; delegates were actually starting to lay before the Czar the claims of the rival states, when suddenly, and without warning, the Bulgarian armies fell upon their former allies. The responsibility for this action has never been fixed; the council of ministers had never been consulted; so far as our knowledge goes, it was due to an order from the commander of the forces, General Sabof. It is probable, but it has never yet been proved, that he was acting under the immediate instructions of the King.

The result was an immediate attack upon Bulgaria from all sides; in a moment the great hopes that Bulgaria would become a supreme and dominating power in the Balkans were dashed aside, and the final arrangements made by the treaty of Bucharest saw her deprived of nearly all that she had won in the first Balkan War.

V

The treaty of Bucharest was a disaster; it left a sure basis for future wars. The unrestrained ambitions of Serbia and the enmity to Austria — which had been increased by the events of the last year, and by Austria’s unremitting opposition to all Serbian extensions toward the west — made war between Austria and Serbia inevitable. In any such war Austria could now hope for the assistance of Bulgaria, who was thirsting for revenge, and could reckon upon support from Germany. As we have seen, the establishment of the Balkan League was a fatal barrier to German ambition; now that it was destroyed, an opportunity was given for securing by one bold stroke control over the Western Balkans, which would bring with it the road to Salonica and Constantinople.

As against this, the policy of the Allies was clear. It was the restoration of the Balkan League, — if not in name, at least in fact, — and the consolidating of the Balkan League by the adherence of Roumania. If this could be established, even supposing these states remained neutral, an effective barrier would have been set up between Germany and Turkey, and a Turkey isolated was not a formidable enemy.

Equally important was it that in this way, and in this way alone, could be established the basis for permanent peace in the East. If a restored Balkan League were willing to join the Entente, then the forces available would have been sufficient to settle once for all those matters of nationalities which have been for centuries the cause of so many wars and disturbances.

We have then clearly defined the objects of the two groups of powers, and it is for these that a diplomatic struggle took place which has occupied the past year.

We must at once recognize that, admirable though the case of the Allies was, the attainment of their object was extraordinarily difficult. There was no ground for surprise if after many months of negotiations they failed. The Central Powers had good cards; they had three kings — and they had Fear. Whatever the feelings of the nations might be, the courts of Bucharest, Sofia, and Athens were bound by the closest ties to Austria and Germany.

The King of Roumania, himself a Hohenzollern by birth, had gone so far as to enter into a definite alliance with Austria. Had he had his way, Roumania would have given armed support to Austria on the first day of the war. He was prevented, for his ministers declared that they were not bound by a treaty which had been entered into without their consent. The King of Bulgaria, who had himself once been an Austrian officer and holds large estates in Hungary, had little cause to share the gratitude to Russia which his people still felt. The King of Greece, himself a brother-in-law to the German Emperor, though he had not actually entered into any binding agreement, had, if report is true, given a private pledge that his soldiers should not fight against the German army.

All these monarchs shared the feeling which is predominant in the higher staffs of nearly every European army. Soldiers by birth and tradition, they were held completely by belief in the invincibility of the German army. This is probably the strongest element against which the Allies have had to contend. At least for Bulgaria and Roumania, the naval power of England had little meaning; France was far distant. There was little belief in the efficiency of the Russian army. Germany and Austria were near by.

And so, it was rather by fear than by wisdom that these states would be guided. And who will blame them if in fact fear was the strongest motive? They had heard of the fate of Belgium; they knew, almost as eye-witnesses, something of what happened in Serbia during the Austrian invasions; war, always ruthless, takes a peculiar complexion of cruelty in these lands which have been so long acquainted with the Turkish customs.

The truth of this was well understood in Germany. So far from wishing to cast a veil over what happened in Belgium, they welcomed the circulation of the fullest reports; they hoped that they might profit by the fear which their deeds would cause, and that the destruction of the Belgian towns would serve as a deterrent to prevent the Roumanians from embarking on a war against them.

We shall, therefore, not be surprised that throughout the first part of the war the chief desire of the Balkan states was to maintain neutrality and not to commit themselves to either side until victory should have declared itself.

Against these influences the Allies had to contend. Their object was clearly not an agreement with one or other of the states; for this would have brought about, at the best, a slight military diversion that would have perpetuated the disastrous situation left by the treaty of Bucharest. The object was an agreement with them all. Now an agreement of all the states depended on the action of Bulgaria. To bring Bulgaria, still sore and smarting from her humiliation of a year ago, into an alliance with her late enemies, Greece, Serbia, and Roumania, was a task of profound difficulty; it could be performed only by a complete revision of the terms of the treaty of Bucharest. This would have implied, as regards Roumania, the restoration of Silistria and Dobrudja. This Roumania could assent to only if she received from Russia that part of Bessarabia which she had lost in 1879, and also a promise of those large portions of Austria-Hungary inhabited by Roumanians. A promise, however, would not be sufficient. She would require the immediate cession of Bessarabia, and she would require evidence that the Allies would be able to impose their will upon Austria. But a victorious Russia was not willing to hand over Russian territory; and a defeated Russia could not give any effective hopes of the acquisition of Austrian territory. All depended on the campaign in the Carpathians. Had the Russian army descended on the other side of these mountains Roumania would have been won; it failed to do so, and she maintained her neutrality.

The negotiations with Serbia were probably more important; there was a time when it is possible that Bulgaria would have given way, if she could have recovered that part of Macedonia which she lost by the treaty of Bucharest. This, however, required the consent of Serbia, and this consent was refused. And just at the moment when these negotiations were being carried out, a new difficulty arose on the side of Italy. During the critical months, in fact, the diplomacy of the Entente powers was chiefly occupied with the arrangements by which Italy would come into the alliance. Italy, however, required a considerable extension of territory in the islands and on the coast of the Adriatic; this naturally created some apprehension in Serbia, for the latter state could not view with indifference any suggestion by which her access to the sea would again be endangered. It will be obvious that the discussion on this point would make it all the more difficult to procure any concession as to the Macedonian question.

And as to Greece: the Allies would bring strong pressure to bear on Greece to surrender at least a portion of the coast of Macedonia and Thrace. In return for this they could open out glorious prospects of a maritime development of great power over the shores and islands of the Ægean. Greece had to make the choice between two lines of development, — on the one side the Byzantine idea of extension on land and supremacy over the Slavic people, on the other a great future in the ancient home of the Greek race. M. Venizelos, himself an islander, would gladly have seized the opportunity for what we may surely call the true development of the Hellenism. It is not the first time in history that a great statesman has seen his plan frustrated by an alien king.

VI

And so the precious months went by until the tide turned. The Russian advance was checked, the great German assault took place, and on August 5 Warsaw fell. Then indeed the negotiations were continued with a new urgency, but then it was too late. One hope there was: had the English forced their way through the Dardanelles and so balanced the Russian defeats, the diplomatists would have profited by the successes of the generals. They did not do so; the long delay opened the way for the fresh German advance into Serbia, and as soon as that began success was no longer possible.

It has even been said that the Allies, and especially England, depended too much merely on negotiations, and that their policy was not, as it ought to have been, supported by the offer of military assistance. It is indeed true that probably at any time the promise of the dispatch of a large force to the Balkans would have turned the scale. Had this country been in possession of a superfluity of soldiers, this might have been done; as a matter of fact, however, at least until far on in the summer of 1915, there were no troops available. Every man was required to strengthen the line in France, and military advisers, English and French alike, were unanimous in warning against the danger of the dissipation of strength. The issue of the war would depend upon what happened in France, and to risk success there by spending strength on distant and local expeditions was contrary to the whole teaching of strategy.

As regards England the accusation completely fails. After all, though she was not able to send soldiers, she did what she could and sent ships. There is much which still remains obscure as to the origin of the Dardanelles expedition; this, however, is obvious, that, even if on technical naval grounds it was rash, the very fact of its dispatch completely frees England from the accusation that she did not attach sufficient importance to the strengthening of diplomacy by naval and military support. Had the expedition been successful, it would probably at once have solved the Balkan problem. When started it was perhaps, as has been said, something in the nature of a gamble. We had a number of ships which we did not immediately require in the grand fleet; it was desirable to do something to support diplomatic pressure on Greece and Bulgaria; there were no men to be sent; it seemed then justifiable to use these ships in an attempt to break through the Dardanelles. The fault, if fault there was, seems to have lain in this: first, that it did not sufficiently take into account the moral effect of failure, and secondly, it will probably eventually be shown that the offer to send this expedition was not used with sufficient energy before the expedition started, as a means of strengthening pressure on Bulgaria.

Another criticism is that the Allies, and especially England, were not sufficiently awake to the danger that Bulgaria was, in fact, during the whole course of the negotiations only marking time until a favorable opportunity should occur of joining the Central powers. The danger was indeed an obvious one, and ample and repeated warnings were given of it. The strongest and immediate object of Bulgaria would naturally be revenge on the Allies, by whom she had been deprived of the fruits of her victorious campaign against Turkey. She had every reason to hope that she would get good terms from Germany and Austria. To have her coöperation was, in fact, to them essential. Her geographical position seemed to give her the decision of the war in the East; for it was only by using the railway to Constantinople which passes through Sofia that the much-needed reinforcements and ammunitions could be conveyed to the Turkish army. It eventually became clear that, unless reinforcements were available, the Turks would be unable to maintain their resistance to the British. Bulgaria could therefore hope to get, as a reward for her coöperation, terms far more favorable than any which Russia or England could offer. After all, more could be won from Serbia crushed and dismembered than by a friendly arrangement preparatory to an alliance.

The danger must have been foreseen. There was no doubt a tendency to overestimate Russian influence in Bulgaria; men forget that in politics, gratitude is the rarest of virtues; the sense of an injury is greater than that of a benefit, and much had happened since 1878 which might dim the memory of the days of liberation. It could be foreseen that the King would pursue with an entire absence of scruple that policy which would open to him hopes of gratifying the great ambitions which had once already been disappointed.

It seemed, however, that there was always an easy method of meeting this danger. A treaty between Serbia and Greece bound each state to come to the support of the other in the case of an attack from Bulgaria. Any proposal, therefore, by Bulgaria to join Austria and attack Serbia, could be easily countered, for that would involve war with Greece, and Greece would have the full support of the Allies.

During the course of September, in fact, this situation arose. The new attack on Serbia was developing, and it became apparent that Bulgaria was preparing to join in it. Here again we see how the diplomatic situation was always governed by military results. The decisive influence was a failure in Gallipoli : this made it certain that there was no immediate prospect that the Dardanelles would fall. When this became clear, Bulgaria mobilized. As had been foreseen, the immediate answer came in the mobilization of the Greek army. The Allies at once assured Greece of their full and unconditional support with an army of 150,000 men. This would be amply sufficient to check the danger to Serbia.

It was at this moment that the dramatic change took place in Athens. The King refused to consent to the policy of Venizelos. The minister resigned; mobilization indeed took place, but no action followed; a new ministry was formed, and on their advice the King repudiated his obligation to Serbia. Greece would not embark on what she called an adventure; what this meant was that she would give her help only after victory was secured; she was willing to share in the profits, but not to participate in the danger. It was a lamentable position; it was one of those acts from which the reputation of the nation will not easily recover. It was an act of treachery and cowardice: treachery to her ally and treachery to her own future. She had been willing to share with Serbia the spoils won from Bulgaria; she refused her help when it was necessary to defend them. We can easily see that it was an act fatal to the future of the country; it would deprive her of the support of the Allies; and even in the event of a German victory, what prospect would Greece have, placed between a greater Bulgaria and a Turkey reinforced under German influence?

It was not the first time that Great Britain had been disappointed by the failure of other states to maintain their engagements.

Greece, then, had failed; there was no alternative but to go forward without her; menace would have been useless. You cannot compel a nation to become a cordial and willing ally. One course only was possible: it must at least be required that Greece should not oppose the use of Greek territory as a base for an army which should march to the rescue of Serbia. For such action there was ample justification. Though Greece could not be forced to coöperate, she could at least be required not to offer any active opposition to a campaign in which she was bound both by treaty and by honor to take part.

An attempt has been made to argue that the use of Salonica by the Allies as a base for operations against Bulgaria is a violation of neutrality, similar to that of the violation of Belgium. The accusation, of course, is absolutely groundless. It ignores fundamental facts: first, that Germany had definitely and repeatedly plighted herself to respect Belgian neutrality; secondly, that Greece had in the same way bound herself to come to the help of Serbia. To state that the two cases are similar is merely to say that treaties and engagements are without force. In addition it is to be remembered that the landing at Salonica was only determined on after a definite request had come from M. Venizelos, who was then Prime Minister, — a request given probably with the sanction of the King. It has been said that this request was accompanied by a formal protest; this is a combination which no self-respecting government could accept; and if in fact any such protest were suggested, it is obvious that when once the definite and formal request had been made, the protest could not be received.

VII

Here we must stop. The future rests not with statesmen but with generals, not with diplomacy but with arms. Whatever the result may be, certain consequences will always remain. First, the creation of the Balkan League, short-lived as it was and sudden as was its fall, will never be forgotten, and its work — even if for the time it was destroyed — will reappear. Whatever may happen in the future, it can never be forgotten that by their own efforts the Christian states expelled the Turk and established the principle that it is to them that the Balkans belong, by the same right as that by which Western Europe belongs to the French, the Spaniards, and the Germans. Even though in the future there are long and cruel wars between them, though they may struggle for centuries for the borderlands of Macedonia, as Germany and France have struggled for Belgium and Lorraine, it is on the mutual recognition of these states that the possibility of any sane and orderly political system rests. And even if it should come about that for a time success in arms brought with it the establishment of foreign dominion, they would once more be driven together to reassert their independence in the same way that they asserted it against the Turk.

And if we look to the part taken by Great Britain and her Allies in these affairs, though it may be shown that there has been now and again a false step, that there has been some want of skill and insistence, and perhaps also of local knowledge, and that thereby opportunities may have been missed, of one thing there can be no doubt: that Britain has from the beginning pursued with the greatest perseverance and patience a policy success in which would have restored all that had been gained by the First Balkan War and lost by the Second. The real tragedy of the Balkans is this: each of these states — Roumania, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece —has legitimate objects which it wishes to attain; each of them represents a genuine national feeling; and though they still show much of the primitive and barbarous passions which are the inevitable consequences of their previous history, the solid establishment of each one on a national basis would at once give a possibility for peaceful progress which has hitherto been denied to them. In a large sense the aims of each are in no way incompatible with those of the others. Apart from a few districts in Macedonia, there is no real difficulty in the apportionment of the territory on a racial basis. But such an apportionment would be accepted only when Serbia and Roumania are enabled to reunite to themselves the Serbians and Roumanians now living in Austria-Hungary. For the attainment of this there is one sure means, and that is union between them. It is this union that Great Britain attempted to bring about; and even if she has failed at the moment, it is the policy she will continue to pursue.