CHAPTER IX
“AND IF THOU WILT NOT BE MY SERVANT....”
FROM 1895 TILL THE ENTENTE CORDIALE
The prosperity of German industry, of German trade, of German shipping, and the development of German capital, began, about the middle of the nineties, to attract the attention of an ever-growing number of persons in Great Britain. Such “attention” on the part of the English is, as we know, invariably tainted by animosity. From all oversea countries arrived reports from British consuls and commercial agents, telling of German competition in the foreign markets. Everywhere was the German merchant to be found, who was unusually active, who spoke all languages, and who endeavored most skilfully to find out the wants and wishes of the native population, to which wants the manufactured goods were subsequently adapted. The immense growth of German industry had been rendered possible by the Protectionist policy inaugurated by Bismarck in 1879. The protection of those national forces which demanded to be developed, against foreign competition—especially against British industry,—was an imperative necessity. Bismarck had not let himself be caught in the English net so carefully spread for Continental birds—i. e. by the “doctrine” of the blessing of free trade for German industry. As soon as it was protected, German industry revealed a strength hitherto unsuspected; it could now thrive; and the more it could thrive, the more could it expand; and thus was it ever more and more in a position to satisfy all requirements as to quality. After a very short time, the English jeers about German industrial products, which were scoffed at as being “cheap and nasty,” produced no effect. Then came England’s great and irremedial mistake. In order to protect English buyers against worthless German products, the British Government decided that all manufactured goods imported into Great Britain, Ireland, and the Colonies, should in future be marked: “Made in Germany.” Thus did England, the champion of the magnificent ideal of Free Trade, decide. As is well known, the plan failed, and the German products, thanks to their good quality and their cheapness, obtained instead an unlooked-for success; for the English buyer got into the habit of asking for German, instead of English, goods. This failure, with the involuntary comedy and the still more involuntary English irony attached to it, produced its repercussion in the whole world, and became an universal and well-deserved advertisement for German industry. The culminating point of the German triumph was reached, when the German liner Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse entered the port of Southampton bearing the inscription “Made in Germany” in large letters.
The English were not yet uneasy. The tremendous start which it had, enabled British industry to dominate its rival in all markets. The immense difference between the means of production and distribution, and especially between the capital, at the disposal of either country, was well known. This fact alone was sufficient to prevent any uneasiness cropping up. Lack of German capital, and an extreme and lasting tension of German credit, on the one hand; immense English capital on the other: such was the position of affairs towards the close of the last century.
But England is in the habit of carefully observing even the first rudimentary beginnings of everything calculated to damage the monopoly, which Providence has granted her in the markets of this world. In 1896 the former Prime Minister, Lord Rosebery, declared in a public meeting that he attributed the disturbance of the friendly relations between England and Germany not only to the Transvaal question, but above all to the fact that Germany was beginning to catch up England in the economic race. He himself was quite surprised by the technical and commercial progress achieved by the Germans; German competition in these spheres was a danger of the future. Germany possessed the most complete system of technical education, and was therefore the most dangerous rival of England; in fact, she even menaced British trade in India and Egypt. The same politician said later: “We are threatened by a terrible adversary, who wears us out as surely as the sea wears out the unprotected parts of a coast. I refer to Germany.”
Lord Rosebery was quite right. What he termed a disturbance of the friendly relations between Germany and England—namely, the outburst of mob fury in the latter country after the German Emperor’s telegram to President Krüger—was due only in part to the South African complications. In fact, these certainly furnished the lesser motive, for Great Britain, being all-powerful at sea, had nothing to fear in the future from Germany in South Africa. The South African question was settled. But German commercial competition, and the development of German industry, were quite different matters. They could be suppressed neither by a quod non of the British Government, nor by a clatter of swords. The principal motive of English unrest resided in the feeling, partly conscious and partly unconscious, that German trade had risen from humble origins to an astonishing height of prosperity by its own unaided efforts, and in spite of the most difficult conditions. In the course of our pilgrimage through the centuries which tell of the development of British piracy, we have seen that it is by no means the superior capacity or the originality of the English people which have permitted them to obtain possession of the markets of the world. An exceptionally favorable geographical position; the ability to inflict in the most cunning and unscrupulous manner damage on other nations, which were either exploited if possible by their best forces being drawn by England into her own service, or which, if this was impossible, were paralysed in such a way that they destroyed themselves: such have been the factors of the development of British wealth and power. The incurable madness of the Continental Powers, which perpetually tore each other to pieces and exhausted their resources for the greater glory of the British grocer, did the rest. But never did the superior productivity, the superior intelligence, and the honest work, of the English, have a share in the building up of England’s monopoly. Germany before the Thirty Years’ War stood, in respect of such qualities, on a far higher level than England, as did also Italy at the time of the Renaissance, Holland in the seventeenth century, and France in the days of Colbert and of Napoleon I. And now, after the long interval that had elapsed since the War of Liberation, during which the monopoly of industry and trade had appeared to the English as if it were given them by Providence—after all these years, there suddenly arose the new German Empire. The latter was, it is true, as yet without many resources; but it proved itself a hard-working and talented competitor. Was it not inevitable that the noble British blood should boil? How could the German nation, which up till then had been poor and despised, dare to compete with British industry, not only in the German but even in the English market—nay, even in the world market?
Statistics showed that, during the period 1873–1896, the number of German vessels had increased sixfold, and their tonnage more than tenfold. The German passenger service was unrivalled in the world; the North Sea fishing trade was formerly exclusively in English hands, and the German fishing fleet in those waters had now been increased twelvefold since 1873. The oversea shipping trade of Germany had increased by more than 100%, whereas that of England had only increased by 35%—a clear proof that German trade was proceeding with giant strides to liberate itself from the English intermediary. Precisely this last-mentioned phenomenon caused unusual pain and annoyance to the “world’s carrier,” for it was equivalent to a severe blow in the face. The German consulates in oversea countries increased in number every year. Every year also did the total trade of Germany grow, and of this trade much more than half was done with oversea countries. The amount of money invested in the latter, and the number of shipping lines and of shipbuilding yards, likewise augmented every year. Everywhere the English saw growing strength, and the spirit of enterprise, and perseverance, and skill—everywhere an indomitable resolution to produce only the best of everything. In 1896 the German flag was, for the first time, to be seen in Hamburg in superior numbers to the English. It was, on the one hand, a legitimate triumph for the Germans, and a sure sign that matters were progressing steadily; on the other hand, it brought home to them once more all the misery of the years gone by. Not until twenty-six years after the foundation of the new German Empire had the numerical superiority of British ships in the greatest German harbor been done away with! Up till then trade with German ports had been carried on principally under the British flag, and via British ports. Such was the fruit yielded by the “great harvest” reaped by England at the time of the war with Napoleon, when England, albeit at peace with the State of Hamburg, blockaded the mouth of the Elbe, and seized Hamburgian ships wherever she could find them. Hamburg now took peaceful revenge, and thereby prodigiously excited the wrath of the benefactor of mankind at the other side of the North Sea.
In order that this period of Anglo-German relations be rightly understood, it is impossible to insist too often on one cardinal fact: namely, the absence of a German navy right up till the commencement of the twentieth century. A few warships, it is true, existed, but these were small, and the majority of them were badly built. England rightly had no respect for such a fleet. As for Germany’s world policy, and the tendencies revealed by the latter, the British Government judged it solely in the light of a factor of possible alliances and groupings of Powers. In other words, British statesmen were first and foremost concerned about the question: with which Powers will Germany seek to effect a rapprochement, in order to obtain support for the aims pursued by her world policy? This was very natural, seeing that every co-operation of Germany with another Power appeared to the Government of His Britannic Majesty as a menace and a danger. This Government believed also to have found here the key to a further conundrum—namely, how may German trade competition be guided into paths where its danger to England shall be reduced to a minimum? The best solution to both questions appeared to the London Cabinet to lie in a rapprochement between England and Germany. It was known in London that Germany would create no difficulties in South Africa; and this sufficed for the moment. When Russia took Port Arthur, and Germany acquired Kiaotchow, whilst England followed suit with Weihaiwei, the British Government considered it to be of great importance that Berlin should be informed of the former’s firm intention “not to call in question any of Germany’s rights or interests in Shantung.” The British Government was aware that Port Arthur had been for some years the goal of Russian policy in the Far East, and that the leasing of Kiaotchow to Germany could not possibly constitute a danger to English interests for a very long time to come. Or did other intentions prevail already in those days? We do not know. In any case must Port Arthur in Russian hands have appeared to British statesmen as distinctly dangerous; for it was the symbol of Russian expansion in the Far East, and of an Imperialist policy which could only be pursued at the expense of the Chinese Empire. The acquisition of Weihaiwei was in the nature of a counter-move directed against Russia, and not against Germany. Mr. Arthur Balfour, the future Prime Minister, in the course of a speech made at the time, gave expression to the anxiety felt by the Government concerning the perilous surprises which the development of events might entail for the future of China. The Russian danger in the Far East had become immense, for Russia’s expansion threatened the freedom of the Chinese market, which Great Britain had long since attributed to herself, and which she had sought to prepare by all the means in her power. A steady increase of the Russian fleet proceeded simultaneously with the Russian advance on the Continent. Every new warship was despatched to the Far East; Port Arthur became a naval port and a fortress, whereas Dalny, in the neighborhood, was made into a trading port.
Thus it was the Russian danger which induced the British Government to seek a rapprochement with Germany. We may resume England’s policy at that time in a sentence: if possible, let us make use of Germany against Russia. The former, and Austria-Hungary with her, can by means of pressure—and, if necessary, by war—in Europe, loosen Russia’s hold on the Chinese Empire, and indirectly check the Russian advance in the Far East. This calculation was, in itself a perfectly sound one. There is no doubt that an European war, which would have relieved England of her anxieties in the Far East, would at that time have been very welcome to the British Government.
Prince Bülow kept his hands free, and the British wooing did not have the success which the late Joseph Chamberlain wished for; but the London Cabinet continued to hope that it would eventually attain its end. In the last years of the old century events succeeded each other rapidly. The Hispano-American war broke out, and Spain lost the greater part of her remaining colonial possessions. All the other Powers remained neutral. England, however, despite her friendship with Germany in the Far East, seized the opportunity to endeavor to sow in the United States the seeds of distrust against Germany. British diplomacy observed with irritation and anxiety the victorious campaign of the Americans, but did not venture to give public expression to its feelings. It contented itself with an effort to prevent the armed intervention of the United States in Cuba, by means of a joint action of the neutral Powers. Germany refused her co-operation; and British diplomacy at once proceeded to put matters in such a light that it should appear as if Germany, and not England, had proposed taking this step. The British cable companies did everything they could—and that was a great deal—to prevent all possibility of a German-American rapprochement ever being realised.
The same year 1898 witnessed an event which was destined to become a most important turning-point in British modern history: namely, the so-called Fashoda affair. As is well known, this “incident” was created by a French expedition under the leadership of Colonel (then Captain) Marchand, which, setting out from the French Congo, had reached Fashoda, in the territory of the Upper Nile. The English considered any French advance towards the last-named region as constituting a grave danger for their own position in Egypt. Lord Kitchener, who had just won the battle of Omdurman, protested against the hoisting of the French flag at Fashoda. Captain Marchand declined to give way, and notified his Government of the incident. A great tension of Franco-British relations immediately followed, and England’s language became very menacing. The Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in London, Mr. (now Lord) Curzon, had declared, a year before, at the time when Captain Marchand had just begun his expedition, that if the latter should enter a territory “in which our rights have already long been recognised, this would not only be an unexpected act, but the French Government must well know that it would be an unfriendly one, and considered as such in England.” Such language was already clear enough; but much stronger language was resorted to when the event actually took place. The Naval Reserves were called in, the fleet was held ready, and the English Ministers, as is customary in all such cases, made speeches of a most menacing character. Their argument was the following: England claims to rule over all territories having formerly belonged to Egypt; she does so “on behalf of Egypt,” which country has, at the cost of the heaviest sacrifices, been saved from anarchy and ruin. The claim, as will be seen, was a very elastic one. It amounted to this: wherever, within the limits of the African Continent, England chose to declare that a territory had once belonged to Egypt, such a territory was transferred by Divine right to the Chosen People.
France was not prepared to defy Great Britain. In the spring of 1899 the latter concluded an Agreement with the French Government, by means of which she obtained all she wanted: namely, the recognition of her uncontested right to rule in all territories which the Egypt of yore had ever claimed, or ever could claim. England did not, of course, demand this in her own name, but in that of the “independent Egyptian State.” Had France not given way, it would seem that England intended taking Tunis, with the naval port (then in construction) of Bizerta.
“The disgrace of Fashoda” was, from that time on, a popular phrase in France, and the Germans believed that they were now but a short distance removed from a Franco-German understanding. It was, however, a great mistake. The leading men in France were convinced that the Fashoda “incident” had quite another meaning. The French colonial plans, which had found their expression in the Marchand expedition, had definitely failed. Other colonial problems in Africa were still open. The French fleet would, in the future, be just as little in a position successfully to defy the British fleet as it had been in 1898. No effective help on sea could be expected from Russia, for the center of gravity of Russia’s policy and maritime power lay in the Far East. It is true that France could maintain a respectable fleet in the Mediterranean, and thus keep up a certain equilibrium there. Her fleet was sufficient to prevent France being eliminated from any settlement of Mediterranean questions. But the French statesmen were of opinion that France was henceforth too weak to continue the old historical struggle with England on the seas and beyond them. Subsequent reflection confirmed their first impression. Since July, 1898, M. Delcassé was Minister for Foreign Affairs, and M. Paul Cambon was French Ambassador in London, where he is still to-day. M. Cambon, a leading political personality and a diplomatist of the first order, saw that the moment had come for paving the way to an understanding with England. It is reported that M. Delcassé, on taking office, likewise said that he hoped not to leave the Ministry on the Quai d’Orsay until he had laid the foundations of a lasting entente with the latter Power. The French press could wax indignant about the disgrace of Fashoda, it could demand peremptorily an increase of the navy, and threaten the hereditary foe,—this war of words left Great Britain wholly indifferent. The statesmen in London knew full well that a great turning-point in history had been reached; and they were content to wait quietly until the fruit should ripen.
The Fashoda incident had, therefore, an entirely different meaning to the one which is still generally to-day attributed to it. It was not in spite of Fashoda that six years later the Franco-English entente was concluded, which has since developed into an alliance—but as a result of Fashoda! Without Fashoda there would have been no Entente Cordiale, no alliance! The old historical world-struggle between France and England reached its definite end with the Fashoda incident. Even after 1870 it was still conceivable that France might endeavor, in conjunction with Continental Powers, to resume the ancient struggle—especially in view of the burning questions arising out of the conflicting colonial aspirations of the two countries in Africa. The Fashoda incident put an end to all this. The efforts made during the preceding twenty years by statesmen on both sides of the water, in view of arriving at an understanding between Paris and London, had been temporarily frustrated by Bismarck. But now, after the tree had been vigorously shaken at Fashoda, the fruit fell spontaneously. We may recall, in this connection, the words spoken by the French Ambassador in London in the days of the Krüger telegram: “France has but one enemy,” etc.
After Fashoda the political situation in the Mediterranean was suddenly changed. It was no accident that France and Italy should, about the same time, have effected a rapprochement after long years of estrangement, and that they should have signed a colonial agreement. Crispi had inaugurated Italy’s ambitious colonial policy, and had induced the Italian nation to make immense efforts in order to become a great Mediterranean Power. The defeat at Adua signified the end of this era; instead of the ambitious foreign policy which aimed at placing Italy ahead of France in the Mediterranean, a new period now set in, characterised by timidity and excessive economy in matters of national defence. The party which denounced Italy’s adhesion to the Triple Alliance as the cause of ruinously expensive armaments constantly increased. We now know that English influence stood behind it, that English counsel and English intrigue prepared and organised the unfortunate Abyssinian adventure, partly in order to give British troops a pretext for intervening themselves, partly because England had no use for a powerful Italy in the Mediterranean—much less so, in fact, since the weakness of France had become palpable. Formerly, when France was stronger, England had done all she could to embitter the quarrel between the two Latin nations; but now it was the reverse. Thus it was that England, in 1898, bestowed her blessing on the Franco-Italian rapprochement, by the mouth of Admiral Rawson, Commander-in-Chief of the British squadron, which was then visiting Genoa. England likewise succeeded, on the same occasion, in loosening the ropes that bound Italy to the Triple Alliance; Italy veered round in the direction of France and England, attracted as she was by the advantages offered her in North Africa by these two Powers. England was, from now on, no longer the Power whose fleet served to back up the Triple Alliance (which possessed no fleet) in the Mediterranean, where England had guaranteed the maintenance of the status quo against France. This policy of England’s was no longer necessary, for France no longer dreamt of “kicking against the English pricks.” Not the least of the causes which, in former days, induced Italy to join the Triple Alliance, was the former’s rivalry with France.
The reasons for the destruction of the Boer Republics were typically English. These Republics grew and prospered, and became stronger in every way; it was only natural that they should aspire to complete independence in their relations with other Powers, and that they should not consider themselves as bound by a forged treaty limiting their rights in this respect, and which had been forced on them by England some fifteen years previously. The British Government, and especially Chamberlain, understood that a normal and natural evolution was here in progress, and that it could not be stopped. The only means of doing so remained the destruction of the independence of the Boer Republics.
During the Boer War the anti-foreign movement known as the Boxer War, broke out in China. All the European Powers sent troops to the Far East, and a numerous international fleet was anchored in Chinese waters. The leitmotiv of British policy at that moment was furnished by the necessity of checking Russian expansion in the Chinese Empire and in Corea. Already during the Boxer troubles, England and Japan worked together on the most intimate terms; on the other hand, British diplomacy endeavored to play off Germany against Russia in China, and was very dissatisfied when it observed that the Germans intended acting in the Far East on their own account—chiefly in view of obtaining new openings for German trade. England was likewise displeased with the relatively strong fleet which Germany had despatched to the Far East; she had, on the other hand, the consolation of seeing the German fleet in home waters reduced to two battleships.
The only reasonable policy which Germany could possibly pursue during the Boer War, was one of absolute neutrality. When Russia attempted to take advantage of the situation, and to induce Germany to take part in a movement against England, Prince Bülow put an end to all further negotiations by proposing, as a condition of the intervention of the European Powers, that they should agree to recognise the validity of the territorial status quo on the Continent. In this way, France would have had to accept the Treaty of Frankfort, and the idea was consequently abandoned. Russia was the only Power which could, at that time, by an advance towards the Indian frontier, have fought with success against Great Britain.
Thus England remained undisturbed, and with her freedom of action unimpaired. Alone the business instinct of the United States skilfully took advantage of the situation, and a new treaty concerning the future Panama Canal was concluded. The sovereignty of the United States over the Canal was thereby assured, and the latter withdrawn for ever from British control.
During the Boer War, Lord Salisbury and Joseph Chamberlain continued their efforts to bring about an understanding with Germany. It was proposed to form, in conjunction with the United States, a German-Anglo-Saxon Alliance. Chamberlain declared that no far-sighted British statesman could wish to see England permanently isolated from the Continent. Her quarrels with Germany had been mere trifles, and could not obscure the fact that, German and English interests were, to a large extent, parallel; and that the most natural alliance for England was an alliance with the German Empire. Some weeks later Prince Bülow replied that the German Government likewise desired to come to an understanding, but that this would only be possible on the basis of absolute equality and mutual respect. Germany consequently must desire all the more sincerely that no incidents should crop up, susceptible of creating difficulties between the two countries. Such an “incident” was the confiscation, by the English, of German mail steamers during the South African war.
Finally an agreement was made, on the basis of the status quo and of the open door in China. We would recall that Japan was also a party to this agreement. The London Cabinet thought that it had thereby caught the German Empire in the meshes of the English net, seeing that Germany had bound herself over to protest in company with Great Britain and Japan against the Russian advance in the Far East—for that advance menaced the status quo and the open door alike. There followed the negotiations with Russia regarding the evacuation of Manchuria by the Russian troops. (The latter had occupied Manchuria during the Boxer War.) Russia promised the evacuation, but did not fulfil her promise. But Prince Bülow declared in the Reichstag that the Anglo-German-Japanese Agreement did not concern Manchuria. The fate of the latter province was wholly immaterial to Germany.
The attitude of Germany in the Manchurian question was the cause of the definite abandonment, by Great Britain, of her attempts at wooing. It is probable that the idea of a rapprochement with France originated in London simultaneously with the end of the Anglo-German flirt. The ground, as we have seen, was already prepared. France was only waiting, she had submitted herself to the inevitable, and her clever diplomatists were skilfully and noiselessly working with a view to removing the last obstacles.
The Anglo-Japanese Alliance was but the logical consequence of the situation which had been created in the Far East by the war between China and Japan, by the intervention of the European Continental Powers in 1895, and by the expansion of Russia. There can be no doubt that the British statesmen had long been at work. They had for a long time intended drawing Japan, as the strongest adversary of Russia, over to their side. On the other hand, the hope of avenging “the disgrace of Shimonoseki” had operated powerfully among the Japanese nation. England, with the one definite aim of checking Russian expansion before her, had assisted the Japanese Government in every way—with money, credit, political and naval advice. With the help of the Chinese war indemnity and of British loans, Japan, between 1895 and 1904, built up a small but excellent fleet, and organized her army according to the German pattern—whereby she was actively seconded by German officers, who were engaged as instructors. These officers laid, during years of peace, the basis of the Japanese victories, which were due first and foremost to German military science. The German army manœuvres also played their part, for they were frequently visited by studious and energetic Japanese officers. Thus did German diplomacy, on the one hand, and the German army, on the other, take diametrically opposite sides: namely, for Russia, and against her. Truly a deplorable spectacle!
The way in which the Russo-Japanese War was prepared, begun, and carried out, furnishes another typical example of British methods. England did not need to have recourse, in the case of Japan, to arguments—for Japan was already convinced. England only needed to pour oil on the fire, to add to her ally’s strength where this was necessary, to take the political and diplomatic reins into her own hands—and then, when war had broken out, to point with unmistakable clearness to her all-powerful fleet which ruled the seas. Under these circumstances, who else could venture to say a word? Japan fought England’s battles on sea and on land. The Russian fleet was annihilated at Tsushima and in the harbor of Port Arthur; the Russian armies were driven with terrible loss from Liaotung and Manchuria. Port Arthur fell into the hands of the Japanese. The satisfaction in London would certainly have been greater if the Japanese triumph had not been so overwhelming. England wished the Russian fleet to be entirely destroyed, but she would also liked to have seen three-quarters of the Japanese fleet at the bottom of the sea. Instead of that Japan became, thanks to her navy, the predominant Power in the Far East. This solution was not, from the English point of view, an ideal one; but it was not an unprofitable one either—or at any rate any disadvantages it might have, did not seem likely to manifest themselves for a very long time to come. It was England who, cleverly screened behind the United States, prevented Japan from obtaining a war indemnity in Portsmouth. In this way did the two Anglo-Saxon nations inflict far greater damage on Japan, than was ever inflicted by the intervention of the Continental Powers in 1895. Japan’s army and navy have thereby suffered considerably in their development up till the present day; the Japanese finances have ever since been in a critical condition; and the population as a whole has been reduced to a state of poverty resulting from overtaxation, such as no country has ever witnessed after a victorious war. About the same time, England caused the Alliance between herself and her impoverished friend to be consolidated, and the duties resulting from it for either Power to be extended. On the whole, the danger in the Far East had been suppressed; Japan had been bound to Great Britain and rendered economically dependent on the latter. Japan’s resou