The Vampire of the Continent by Graf E. Reventlow - HTML preview

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CHAPTER VIII
 ANGLO-GERMAN FRIENDSHIP AND ESTRANGEMENT AFTER BISMARCK’S DEPARTURE
 1890–1895

It is well known that the anxiety felt concerning alleged warlike intentions of Russia, and also the belief in such intentions, played a part in the events which led up to the fall of Prince Bismarck. It was greatly to England’s interest that this belief should prevail in the governing circles of the German Empire; for as soon as it existed, and became strong enough for political consequences to result from it, the end of the Reinsurance Treaty with Russia must necessarily be in sight. And this is what did in fact happen. When Caprivi took over the Chancellorship after Bismarck’s fall, he had nothing more urgent to do than to refuse Russia’s offer to renew the Reinsurance Treaty, with a haste which Bismarck qualified in the Hamburger Nachrichten as altogether excessive. No one could have been more delighted than Great Britain! The experienced statesmen on the banks of the Thames, who were so intimately acquainted with all the laws which govern the grouping of European Powers, knew immediately that the abandonment of the treaty in question—especially in the form adopted—must mean the end of the former confidential relations between Germany and Russia. Great Britain knew, as well as Bismarck did, that a partly written Agreement had already existed for some years between France and Russia. Who could tell whether the entente between Russia and Germany, on the one hand, and France and Russia, on the other, might not lead to a Franco-German-Russian Alliance? For Great Britain, no spectre more uncanny than that of a co-operation—to say nothing of a real union—between the leading Continental Powers could possibly be conjured up. As long as Bismarck was there, English statesmen had found no opportunity of driving a wedge in between Russia and Germany. But in 1890 they succeeded with ease in doing so. The natural consequence of all this was to hasten and to consolidate the intimacy between France and Russia. Henceforth neither the Court nor the Government in St. Petersburg offered the same determined resistance to the Pan-Slav agitation as they had formerly done. Bismarck had been able to say in days gone by that all Pan-Slav intrigues had but the weight of a feather by comparison with the authority with the Czar. All that was now at an end. By means of the Reinsurance Treaty Russia had insured herself against the attacks and the pressure of her worst enemy, which was Great Britain. Ever since the seventies, an Anglo-Russian war had been one of the probabilities of European politics; for the points at which the two nations came into hostile contact were constantly increasing in size and number, alike in the Balkans and in Asia. It was therefore of the greatest importance for Russia that she should have, in case of war, a friendly neutral Germany on her Western frontier. The entente with Germany gave Russia the further assurance that, owing to the Austro-German alliance, Austria-Hungary would not allow herself to be induced by Great Britain to take part in a war against the Empire of the Czars.

It will be seen therefore that, in the complicated situation created by the Reinsurance Treaty, Great Britain was at a distinct disadvantage. As long as the Treaty existed, Great Britain had not a single Continental Power at her disposal; and this appeared all the more dangerous to her on account of the growing colonial expansion of France, and in view of Russian expansion in the Near East and in Central Asia. England sought, under these circumstances, to effect a close rapprochement with Germany. The Morning Post, the organ of the English Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, wrote at the beginning of the reign of the Emperor William II.: “Neither England nor Germany are thinking of a war; but it must appear every day more evident to both countries that, if war should indeed be forced upon them, they will have to stand or fall together. No paper alliance is necessary for this.” It was the time when the friendship of Germany was eagerly desired, and when the Reinsurance policy was at its last gasp. Great Britain’s friendship seemed at first tolerable enough; but the situation grew dangerous in the very moment when, after the non-renewal of the Reinsurance Treaty, the Franco-Russian alliance commenced to manifest pronounced anti-German proclivities.

Caprivi was deeply convinced of the necessity of an intimate friendship between Germany and England. He wished, consciously and intentionally, to place the German Empire under British guardianship, in all matters of maritime, commercial, and colonial policy. After the wooing of Germany by England had succeeded in its object of separating the former from Russia, England’s tone towards her newly-acquired “friend” suddenly changed. The aim had been realised, the possibility of a great Continental coalition had been suppressed, and no further wooing was necessary—seeing that Germany now appeared in a certain degree isolated. Already in 1891, a representative of the British Government took the opportunity of declaring that, in the event of a Franco-German war, England’s national interests would have first and foremost to be considered. Not without reason was public expression then given to such a self-evident truth; in spite of all “friendship,” in spite of “standing and falling together,” the British Government deemed it useful to drive home an important truth: namely, that if war were to break out between France and Germany, England would take sides either for or against the latter—according to the circumstances. Already in 1890 England had signed a Colonial Agreement with France; and since that date she had more than once given it to be understood that she was perfectly willing to develop more intimate relations with the Republic. To Turkey’s demand that Egypt should, at long last, be evacuated, Lord Salisbury replied with the delightful euphemism: “We wish first of all to complete our work there.” About the same time, the friendly relations of Germany and the Ottoman Empire commenced; and the initial steps towards building the future Bagdad railroad were taken.

During the years of unhealthy Anglo-German “friendship,” England considered Germany as a servant who owed her obedience. In 1890 the Zanzibar Agreement was signed, and in 1893 a second Agreement was concluded; both were drawn up entirely from the standpoint of English interests. When Germany shortly afterwards entered into a Colonial Agreement with France—in which, be it said, the former once more got the worst part of the bargain,—England resented this; her resentment increased when Germany and France both protested, a year later, against a convention concluded by England with the Congo State in violation of international treaties. About the same time the Prince of Wales undertook a journey to Russia; the British Government seized the opportunity of settling temporarily its quarrel with St. Petersburg concerning Central Asia; and the English press was able to talk ironically about Germany’s isolation.

In 1894 the German Government sent two warships to Delagoa Bay, as a demonstration against English intrigues which threatened the independence of the Boer Republics. At that time the Boer newspaper Volks Stem wrote: “Up till now the Germans have let us settle our disputes with England by ourselves; but at last it would seem that Berlin has recognised the erroneousness of this policy. In the name of the Boer people we tender our thanks to the German nation.” This was, in truth, an historical moment; for ever since then English statesmen turned their attention to two problems: firstly, the prevention of the development of closer relations between Germany and the South African Republics; secondly, the destruction of the independence of the latter. We must once more remind our readers of the fact that England knew perfectly well that Germany was no longer backed up by Russia; and that Germany was, consequently, isolated in all questions of world politics. The Triple Alliance played no part in these; just as little as Germany herself, did the Triple Alliance possess a naval force which England needed to pay even the slightest attention to. Therefore did the British Government draw the noose ever tighter round the neck of the South African Republics, which it was determined to destroy by hook or by crook. Cecil Rhodes began his activity, created new territories for England all around the Boer States, and thus isolated the latter. In England, the enmity against Germany had increased so rapidly, that already in the summer of 1895, when the German Emperor visited the Queen of England, the English Government press received him with marked hostility. The London Standard published a much-noticed series of articles which, under the pretext of welcoming the Emperor, criticised him with bitter irony.

Ever since the combined efforts of England and Austria-Hungary had checked Russia’s expansion in the Balkans, the Government of St. Petersburg had pursued systematically and energetically its “forward” policy in the Far East. England felt her own interests in this region to be more and more menaced; and already a quarter of a century ago her experienced statesmen had recognised Japan as the Power capable of rendering invaluable service in the struggle against Russia. At the beginning of the nineties, England and Japan concluded a treaty of commerce and friendship. During their war with China in 1894–95, the Japanese were financed by English bankers. This war had the result of separating Corea from China—Corea, which was the goal of Russian policy. China was also compelled to surrender the peninsula of Liaotung, with Port Arthur, to Japan. Here, again, England stood behind Japan, for the former knew that Russia had designs on Port Arthur. In view of the Japanese demands, Russia, Germany, and France decided to intervene together. The German view was that if Japan were to establish herself on the Asiatic Continent, this would mean her definite ascendancy over China; from an economic standpoint, Japan “would stand like a sentry at the entrance to the highways leading into China, and would command them.” In addition to this, Germany had concluded a secret convention with Russia, the result of which was later on the leasing of the territory of Kiaotchow.

Japan was forced to give way to the pressure of the three European Powers, and to surrender the peninsula of Liaotung. Russia, on the other hand, was conceded the right of constructing a branch of the Transsiberian railroad to Port Arthur; a few years later, the latter was given over to her on lease. Germany took Kiaotchow, and England Weihaiwei. At the time of the war between Japan and China, Germany was not yet regarded by England as an end, but only as a means: a means against Russia. England was unable to check Russia’s expansion in the Far East; for Russia was in the happy position of possessing an uninterrupted and direct line of communications by land with the Pacific Ocean. The sea power of Great Britain was impotent as regards the Transsiberian railroad. The still rudimentary sea power of Japan had shown itself to be as yet too weak to be used as a British battering-ram against Russian Imperialism in those regions. And it was natural and inevitable that France should be on the side of her Russian ally. There thus remained only the German Empire, as the one Power capable, in the eyes of England, of stemming Russia’s expansion in the Far East. But Germany adopted a precisely contrary attitude and went over to the other side, for the reasons above indicated. Therefore were the English filled with indignation against the German Emperor, on account of what they termed his “liking for political experiments.”

In South Africa, about the same time, the last act but one of the great drama took place. Dr. Jameson and his band of filibusters made their disgraceful raid on the Transvaal. The Boers captured them, and the German Emperor despatched his famous telegram to President Krüger. The English ought to have approved of this telegram, if the conscience of the Government and the nation had been, with regard to the Raid, as pure as was maintained. But such was not the case; and there ensued an appalling outburst of fury against the Germans in general, and the Emperor in particular.

The British Government proceeded immediately to get its fleet ready; a part of this was sent to Delagoa Bay, and the rest was held in readiness in the home waters, just as if a war with Germany were contemplated. We do not know the diplomatic communications which took place at the time between Berlin and London. The German Government declared semi-officially that it was not true that any apologies had been offered on its behalf in London. And both the Government and the press confirmed the absolute unity of Kaiser and people.

An English newspaper, on the occasion of this tension between the two countries, asked ironically how Germany represented to herself a war with Great Britain. It was evident that, unless Germany worked systematically in harmony with other Continental Powers, she could not possibly act, in any overseas question, in opposition to the British Government. If she did, her failure was a foregone conclusion; for there was no German navy. Joseph Chamberlain, who was then English Colonial Secretary, said at the time with characteristic frankness, it was the object of every British Government to maintain England’s position as predominant Power in South Africa; the aim of the Government was the union of all the South African States under the protection of the British flag. The English Colonial Secretary thus declared, in so many words, that England would not rest until the Boer Republics had been deprived of their independence by one means or another: the old traditional British policy of brigandage! The main cause of England’s greed was the existence of diamonds and gold in the territory of the South African Republics; then came subsequently the fear that the economic and colonial expansion of Germany might dry up the English waters in South Africa altogether. In conformity with English traditions, these real motives were concealed behind a cloak of pompous and hypocritical phrases about civilisation, culture, etc. After the Krüger telegram the British Government had, by means of its naval demonstrations, put (symbolically) to the German Government the question of power; and having done this, it considered ipso facto the South African policy of Germany as knocked on the head. Such was, indeed, the case. Bereft of a fleet, Germany could not pursue, with regard to England, any policy which raised the fatal question of power.