It may, however, be reasonably urged that unless the Germans had had
aggressive ambitions they would have agreed to some of the many
proposals made by Great Britain to arrest on both sides the constantly
expanding programmes of naval constructions. It is true that Germany
has always opposed the policy of limiting armaments, whether on land or
sea. This is consonant with that whole militarist view of international
politics which, as I have already indicated, is held in a more extreme
and violent form in Germany than in any other country, but which is the
creed of jingoes and imperialists everywhere. If the British Government
had succeeded in coming to an agreement with Germany on this question,
they would have been bitterly assailed by that party at home. Still,
the Government did make the attempt. It was comparatively easy for
them, for any basis to which they could have agreed must have left
intact, legitimately and necessarily, as we all agree, the British
supremacy at sea. The Germans would not assent to this. They did not
choose to limit beforehand their efforts to rival us at sea. Probably
they did not think it possible to equal, still less to outstrip us. But
they wanted to do all they could. And that of course could have only
one meaning. They thought a war with England possible, and they wanted
to be as well prepared as they could be. It is part of the irony that
attaches to the whole system of the armed peace that the preparations
made against war are themselves the principal cause of war. For if
there had been no rival shipbuilding, there need have been no friction
between the two countries.
“But why did Germany fear war? It must have been because she meant
to make it.” So the English argue. But imagine the Germans saying to
us, “Why do you fear war? There will be no war unless you provoke it.
We are quite pacific. You need not be alarmed about us.” Would such a
promise have induced us to relax our preparations for a moment? No!
Under the armed peace there can be no confidence. And that alone is
sufficient to account for the breakdown of the Anglo-German
negotiations, without supposing on either side a wish or an intention
to make war. Each suspected, and was bound to suspect, the purpose of
the other. Let us take, for example, the negotiations of 1912, and put
them back in their setting.
The Triple Alliance was confronting the Triple Entente. On both
sides were fear and suspicion. Each believed in the possibility of the
others springing a war upon them. Each suspected the others of wanting
to lull them into a false security, and then take them unprepared. In
that atmosphere, what hope was there of successful negotiations? The
essential condition—mutual confidence—was lacking. What, accordingly,
do we find? The Germans offer to reduce their naval programme, first,
if England will promise an unconditional neutrality; secondly, when
that was rejected, if England will promise neutrality in a war which
should be “forced upon” Germany. Thereupon the British Foreign Office
scents a snare. Germany will get Austria to provoke a war, while making
it appear that the war was provoked by Russia, and she will then come
in under the terms of her alliance with Austria, smash France, and
claim that England must look on passively under the neutrality
agreement! “No, thank you!” Sir Edward Grey, accordingly, makes a
counter-proposal. England will neither make nor participate in an
“unprovoked” attack upon Germany. This time it is the German
Chancellor's turn to hang back. “Unprovoked! Hm! What does that mean?
Russia, let us suppose, makes war upon Austria, while making it appear
that Austria is the aggressor. France comes in on the side of Russia.
And England? Will she admit that the war was 'unprovoked' and remain
neutral? Hardly, we think!” The Chancellor thereupon proposes the
addition: “England, of course, will remain neutral if war is forced
upon Germany? That follows, I presume?” “No!” from the British Foreign
Office. Reason as before. And the negotiations fall through. How should
they not under the conditions? There could be no understanding, because
there was no confidence. There could be no confidence because there was
mutual fear. There was mutual fear because the Triple Alliance stood in
arms against the Triple Entente. What was wrong? Germany? England? No.
The European tradition and system.
The fact, then, that those negotiations broke down is no more
evidence of sinister intentions on the part of Germany than it is on
the part of Great Britain. Baron Beyens, to my mind the most competent
and the most impartial, as well as one of the best-informed, of those
who have written on the events leading up to the war, says explicitly
of the policy of the German Chancellor:—
A practicable rapprochement between his country and Great
Britain
was the dream with which M. de Bethmann-Hollweg most willingly
soothed
himself, without the treacherous arriere-pensee which the
Prince von
Buelow perhaps would have had of finishing later on, at an
opportune
moment, with the British Navy. Nothing authorizes us to believe
that
there was not a basis of sincerity in the language of M. de Jagow
when he
expressed to Sir E. Goschen in the course of their last painful
interview
his poignant regret at the crumbling of his entire policy and
that of the
Chancellor, which had been to make friends with Great Britain,
and then
through Great Britain to get closer to France.[1]
Meantime the considerations I have here laid before the reader, in
relation to this general question of Anglo-German rivalry, are, I
submit, all relevant, and must be taken into fair consideration in
forming a judgment. The facts show clearly that Germany was challenging
as well as she could the British supremacy at sea; that she was
determined to become a naval as well as a military Power; and that her
policy was, on the face of it, a menace to this country; just as the
creation on our part of a great conscript army would have been taken by
Germany as a menace to her. The British Government was bound to make
counter-preparations. I, for my own part, have never disputed it. I
have never thought, and do not now think, that while the European
anarchy continues, a single Power can disarm in the face of the others.
All this is beyond dispute. What is disputable, and a matter of
speculative inference, is the further assumption that in pursuing this
policy Germany was making a bid to destroy the British Empire. The
facts can certainly be accounted for without that assumption. I myself
think the assumption highly improbable. So much I may say, but I cannot
say more. Possibly some day we may be able to check conjecture by
facts. Until then, argument must be inconclusive.
This question of the naval rivalry between Germany and Great Britain
is, however, part of the general question of militarism. And it may be
urged that while during the last fifteen years the British Government
has shown itself favourable to projects of arbitration and of
limitation of armaments, the German Government has consistently opposed
them. There is much truth in this; and it is a good illustration of
what I hold to be indisputable, that the militaristic view of
international politics is much more deeply rooted in Germany than in
Great Britain. It is worth while, however, to remind ourselves a little
in detail what the facts were since they are often misrepresented or
exaggerated.
The question of international arbitration was brought forward at the
first Hague Conference in 1899.[2] From the beginning it was recognized
on all sides that it would be idle to propose general compulsory
arbitration for all subjects. No Power would have agreed to it, not
Great Britain or America any more than Germany. On the other hand,
projects for creating an arbitration tribunal, to which nations willing
to use it should have recourse, were brought forward by both the
British and the American representatives. From the beginning, however,
it became clear that Count Muenster, the head of the German delegation,
was opposed to any scheme for encouraging arbitration. “He did not say
that he would oppose a moderate plan of voluntary arbitration, but he
insisted that arbitration must be injurious to Germany; that Germany is
prepared for war as no other country is, or can be; that she can
mobilize her army in ten days; and that neither France, Russia, nor any
other Power can do this. Arbitration, he said, would simply give rival
Powers time to put themselves in readiness, and would, therefore, be a
great disadvantage to Germany.” Here is what I should call the
militarist view in all its simplicity and purity, the obstinate,
unquestioning belief that war is inevitable, and the determination to
be ready for it at all costs, even at the cost of rejecting machinery
which if adopted might obviate war. The passage has often been cited as
evidence of the German determination to have war. But I have not so
often seen quoted the exactly parallel declaration made by Sir John
(now Lord) Fisher. “He said that the Navy of Great Britain was and
would remain in a state of complete preparation for war; that a vast
deal depended on prompt action by the Navy; and that the truce afforded
by arbitration proceedings would give other Powers time, which they
would not otherwise have, to put themselves into complete
readiness.”[3] So far the “militarist” and the “marinist” adopt exactly
the same view. And we may be sure that if proposals are made after the
war to strengthen the machinery for international arbitration, there
will be opposition in this country of the same kind, and based on the
same grounds, as the opposition in Germany. We cannot on this point
condemn Count Muenster without also condemning Lord Fisher.
Muenster's opposition, however, was only the beginning. As the days
went on it became clear that the Kaiser himself had become actively
opposed to the whole idea of arbitration, and was influencing Austria
and Italy and Turkey in that sense. The delegates of all the other
countries were in favour of the very mild application of it which was
under consideration. So, however, be it noted, were all the delegates
from Germany, except Count Muenster. And even he was, by now, so far
converted that when orders were received from Germany definitely to
refuse co-operation, he postponed the critical sitting of the
committee, and dispatched Professor Zorn to Berlin to lay the whole
matter before the Chancellor. Professor Zorn was accompanied by the
American Dr. Holls, bearing an urgent private letter to Prince
Hohenlohe from Mr. White. The result was that the German attitude was
changed, and the arbitration tribunal was finally established with the
consent and co-operation of the German Government.
I have thought it worth while to dwell thus fully upon this episode
because it illustrates how misleading it really is to talk of “Germany"
and the “German” attitude. There is every kind of German attitude. The
Kaiser is an unstable and changeable character. His ministers do not
necessarily agree with him, and he does not always get his way. As a
consequence of discussion and persuasion the German opposition, on this
occasion, was overcome. There was nothing, in fact, fixed and final
about it. It was the militarist prejudice, and the prejudice this time
yielded to humanity and reason.
The subject was taken up again in the Conference of 1907, and once
more Germany was in opposition. The German delegate, Baron Marschall
von Bieberstein, while he was not against compulsory arbitration for
certain selected topics, was opposed to any general treaty. It seems
clear that it was this attitude of Germany that prevented any advance
being made beyond the Convention of 1899. Good reasons, of course,
could be given for this attitude; but they are the kind of reasons that
goodwill could have surmounted. It seems clear that there was goodwill
in other Governments, but not in that of Germany, and the latter lies
legitimately under the prejudice resulting from the position she then
took. German critics have recognized this as freely as critics of other
countries. I myself feel no desire to minimize the blame that attaches
to Germany. But Englishmen who criticize her policy must always ask
themselves whether they would support a British Government that should
stand for a general treaty of compulsory arbitration.
On the question of limitation of armaments the German Government has
been equally intransigeant. At the Conference of 1899, indeed, no
serious effort was made by any Power to achieve the avowed purpose of
the meeting. And, clearly, if anything was intended to be done, the
wrong direction was taken from the beginning. When the second
Conference was to meet it is understood that the German Government
refused participation if the question of armaments was to be discussed,
and the subject did not appear on the official programme. Nevertheless
the British, French, and American delegates took occasion to express a
strong sense of the burden of armaments, and the urgent need of
lessening it.
The records of the Hague Conferences do, then, clearly show that the
German Government was more obstinately sceptical of any advance in the
direction of international arbitration or disarmament than that of any
other Great Power, and especially of Great Britain or the United
States. Whether, in fact, much could or would have been done, even in
the absence of German opposition, may be doubted. There would certainly
have been, in every country, very strong opposition to any effective
measures, and it is only those who would be willing to see their own
Government make a radical advance in the directions in question who can
honestly attack the German Government. As one of those who believe that
peaceable procedure may and can, and, if civilization is to be
preserved, must be substituted for war, I have a right to express my
own condemnation of the German Government, and I unhesitatingly do so.
But I do not infer that therefore Germany was all the time working up
to an aggressive war. It is interesting, in this connection, to note
the testimony given by Sir Edwin Pears to the desire for good relations
between Great Britain and Germany felt and expressed later by the same
Baron Marschall von Bieberstein who was so unyielding in 1907 on the
question of arbitration. When he came to take up the post of German
Ambassador to Great Britain, Sir Edwin reports him as saying:—
I have long wanted to be Ambassador to England, because, as you
know,
for years I have considered it a misfortune to the world that our
two
countries are not really in harmony. I consider that I am here as
a man
with a mission, my mission being to bring about a real
understanding
between our two nations.
On this Sir Edwin comments (1915):—
I unhesitatingly add that I am convinced he was sincere in what he
said.
Of that I have no doubt.[4]
It must, in fact, be recognized that in the present state of
international relations, the general suspicion and the imminent danger,
it requires more imagination and faith than most public men possess,
and more idealism than most nations have shown themselves to be capable
of, to take any radical step towards reorganization. The armed peace,
as we have so often had to insist, perpetuates itself by the mistrust
which it establishes.
Every move by one Power is taken to be a menace to another, and is
countered by a similar move, which in turn produces a reply. And it is
not easy to say “Who began it?” since the rivalry goes so far back into
the past. What, for instance, is the real truth about the German,
French, and Russian military laws of 1913? Were any or all of them
aggressive? Or were they all defensive? I do not believe it is possible
to answer that question. Looking back from the point of view of 1914,
it is natural to suppose that Germany was already intending war. But
that did not seem evident at the time to a neutral observer, nor even,
it would seem, to the British Foreign Office. Thus the Count de
Lalaing, Belgian Minister in London, writes as follows on February 24,
1913:—
The English Press naturally wants to throw upon Germany the
responsibility for the new tension which results from its
proposals,
and which may bring to Europe fresh occasions of unrest. Many
journals
consider that the French Government, in declaring itself ready to
impose
three years' service, and in nominating M. Delcasse to St.
Petersburg,
has adopted the only attitude worthy of the great Republic in
presence
of a German provocation. At the Foreign Office I found a more
just and
calm appreciation of the position. They see in the reinforcement
of
the German armies less a provocation than the admission of a
military
situation weakened by events and which it is necessary to
strengthen.
The Government of Berlin sees itself obliged to recognize that it
cannot
count, as before, on the support of all the forces of its
Austrian ally,
since the appearance in South-east Europe of a new Power, that of
the
Balkan allies, established on the very flank of the Dual Empire.
Far
from being able to count, in case of need, on the full support of
the
Government of Vienna, it is probable that Germany will have to
support
Vienna herself. In the case of a European war she would have to
make
head against her enemies on two frontiers, the Russian and the
French,
and diminish perhaps her own forces to aid the Austrian army. In
these
conditions they do not find it surprising that the German Empire
should
have felt it necessary to increase the number of its Army Corps.
They add
at the Foreign Office that the Government of Berlin had frankly
explained
to the Cabinet of Paris the precise motives of its action.
Whether this is a complete account of the motives of the German
Government in introducing the law of 1913 cannot be definitely
established. But the motives suggested are adequate by themselves to
account for the facts. On the other hand, a part of the cost of the new
law was to be defrayed by a tax on capital. And those who believe that
by this year Germany was definitely waiting an occasion to make war
have a right to dwell upon that fact. I find, myself, nothing
conclusive in these speculations. But what is certain, and to my mind
much more important, is the fact that military preparations evoke
counter-preparations, until at last the strain becomes unbearable. By
1913 it was already terrific. The Germans knew well that by January
1917 the French and Russian preparations would have reached their
culminating point. But those preparations were themselves almost
unendurable to the French.
I may recall here the passage already cited from a dispatch of Baron
Guillaume, Belgian Ambassador at Paris, written in June 1914 (p. 34).
He suspected, as we saw, that the hand of Russia had imposed the three
years' service upon France.
What Baron Guillaume thought plausible must not the Germans have
thought plausible? Must it not have confirmed their belief in the
“inevitability” of a war—that belief which, by itself, has been enough
to produce war after war, and, in particular, the war of 1870? Must
there not have been strengthened in their minds that particular current
among the many that were making for war? And must not similar
suspicions have been active, with similar results, on the side of
France and Russia? The armaments engender fear, the fear in turn
engenders armaments, and in that vicious circle turns the policy of
Europe, till this or that Power precipitates the conflict, much as a
man hanging in terror over the edge of a cliff ends by losing his nerve
and throwing himself over. That is the real lesson of the rivalry in
armaments. That is certain. The rest remains conjecture.
[Footnote 1: “L'Allemagne avant la guerre,” p. 75, and British White
Paper, No. 160.]
[Footnote 2: The account that follows is taken from the
“Autobiography” of Andrew D. White, the chairman of the American
delegation. See vol. ii., chap. xiv. and following.]
[Footnote 3: Mr. Arthur Lee, late Civil Lord of the Admiralty, at
Eastleigh:—
“If war should unhappily break out under existing conditions the
British Navy would get its blow in first, before the other nation had
time even to read in the papers that war had been declared” (The
Times, February 4, 1905).
“The British fleet is now prepared strategically for every possible
emergency, for we must assume that all foreign naval Powers are
possible enemies” (The Times, February 7, 1905).]
[Footnote 4: Sir Edwin Pears, “Forty Years in Constantinople,”
p.330.]