A Box of Sand

by Charles Stephenson

  The integrity of what is left of the Ottoman Empire is one of the principles upon which is founded the equilibrium and peace of Europe […] And what if, after we attack Turkey, the Balkans move? And what if a Balkan war provokes a clash between the two groups of powers and a European war? Is it wise that we saddle ourselves with the responsibility for setting fire to the powder?75

  Giovanni Giolitti. The period 1901-14 in Italian political life came to be known as the ‘Giolittian era’ because of Giolitti’s domination of parliament and politics. During this period he was to be Prime Minister on three occasions – 1903-05, 1906-09, and 1911-14 having served in that position once before in 1892-93 (he attained the office once more in 1920 and retained it for some eleven months). During the period in question Giolitti’s governments sought to democratise Italy by extending the franchise and by introducing other liberal reforms such as old-age pensions. There were many opponents of these, and in order to survive and get them through parliament, Giolitti had to placate the right wing groupings there, the most powerful and certainly most vocal being the Associazione Nazionale Italiana. These were extreme nationalists who wanted a colonial empire, and he determined to give them one in the form of the Ottoman territory of Tripoli (Libya), the possession of which had long been an unredeemed Italian ideal. (Author’s Collection).

  Nevertheless Bosworth posits that the circumstances the Giolitti government found itself in 1911 led it to believe that ‘a relatively cheap colonial war’ – social-imperialism; an attempt to focus the electorate on foreign policy rather than domestic issues – was a way out.76 Indeed Childs points out that he is ‘persuaded’ that it was the ANI and the press that provided the main domestic impetus for war.77

  Perhaps the final factor in the mosaic of conjunction came with the actions of Italy’s ally Germany. The German Chancellor Bethmann-Hollweg had been pursuing a policy of détente with Britain, but this was damaged, by the Second Moroccan, or Agadir, Crisis, which occurred following the dispatch of a French military expedition to Fez, the Moroccan capital, on 11 May 1911 after an appeal for assistance from the ruling Sultan who was facing a rebellion.78 Though Germany had legitimate grounds for complaining of this action, which was undertaken without consultation, the German Foreign Minister, Alfred von Kiderlen-Wächter, saw it as an opportunity for scoring a foreign policy coup. Determined to back up diplomatic action with a touch of sabre rattling, he had the German warship Panther dispatched to Agadir to safeguard German ‘interests.’ He outlined his rationale in a memorandum of 3 May, before the French had moved:

  The occupation of Fez would pave the way for the absorption of Morocco by France. We should gain nothing by protesting and it would mean a moral defeat hard to bear. We must therefore look for an objective for the ensuing negotiations, which shall induce the French to compensate us. If the French, out of ‘anxiety’ for their compatriots, settle themselves at Fez, it is our right, too, to protect our compatriots in danger. We have large firms at Mogador and Agadir. German ships could go to those ports to protect the firms. They could remain anchored there quite peacefully – merely with the idea of preventing other Powers from intruding […] The importance of choosing those ports, the great distance of which from the Mediterranean should make it unlikely that England would raise objections, lies in the fact that they possess a very fertile hinterland, which ought to contain important mineral wealth.79

  The diplomatic style of Kiderlen has been characterised as being ‘to stamp on his neighbour’s foot and display aggrieved surprise if he received a kick in return’,80 though he had the approval of the Chancellor in despatching Panther.81 What the German Foreign Minister wanted to extract from France was the territory known as the French Congo or French Equatorial Africa, an immense area about four times the size of France.82 In gaining this colony he was thinking two steps ahead, inasmuch as he foresaw the advantages the possession of the territory would give Germany should the Belgian Congo ever be broken up. He clearly stated his position in a letter to Bethmann following upon the outbreak of the crisis:

  The French understand that they must grant us compensation in the colonial realm. They want to keep this to a minimum, and the government will be bolstered in this by its fear of both parliament and the public sentiment generated by the Colonial Party. The French will only agree to an acceptable offer if they are firmly convinced that we are otherwise resolved to take extreme action. If we do not demonstrate this, then we will not receive, in return for our withdrawal from Morocco, the kind of compensation that a statesman could justify to the German people. This, in any case, is my conviction. We must gain all of the French Congo – it is our last opportunity to get a worthwhile piece of land in Africa without a fight. Regions in the Congo that have rubber and ivory, as nice as they may be, are of no use to us. We must go right up to the Belgian Congo so that, if it is divided up, we will take part in the partitioning. If this entity continues to exist, we will have access through it to our territories in East Africa. Any other solution would be a defeat to us, which we must be firmly resolved to avert.83

  Perhaps thinking ahead two steps led him to neglect to ensure that the first step was achievable. In any event the German actions, in particular the ‘Panther’s’ leap to Agadir’ (Panthersprung nach Agadir) as it became popularly known, produced a huge reaction. In Churchill’s words: ‘All the alarm bells throughout Europe began immediately to quiver. France found herself in the presence of an act which could not be explained, the purpose behind which could not be measured.’84 Nowhere did the alarm bells quiver more than in the Italian foreign ministry. The British Ambassador to Italy, Sir James Rennell Rodd, reproduced the Italian version of events in his memoirs:

  On the 1st of July 1911, the German Ambassador in Rome went to the Italian Foreign Office to announce to San Giuliano that the cruiser Panther had been sent to Agadir. The alleged reason for this step, the protection of German firms in the south of Morocco, was naturally received with considerable scepticism. It was not till nearly two years afterwards on the recurrence of the same date that San Giuliano admitted to me that on Jagow’s leaving his room he called in Prince Scalea [Pietro Lanza di Scalea], the Under-Secretary of State, and, taking out his watch, which marked five minutes to midday, observed to him that from that moment the question of Tripoli had entered on an active phase. Thereafter the process of preparing public opinion for what was to take place at the end of September began.85

  We can probably discount the detail of this incident, particularly the notion that the Italian government was ‘preparing’ public opinion, but there is little doubt that the episode furnished further reasons for the ANI and their ilk. As one set of apologists for Italy’s actions were to put it: ‘if the cheque [Italy] had upon Tripoli was not to be rendered valueless in her hand she must cash it at once.’86 It was believed, or at least the nationalists tried to believe, that if Italy failed to seize Tripoli then Germany would:

  […] the Panther incident showed Germany’s heavy-mailed fist in a very ugly light. This fact, coupled with that of Germany’s growing influence at the Porte, and the granting of favours to Germans in Cyrenaica, lent colour to the report that an arrangement had been concluded for the Panther’s successor at Agadir to go to Tobruk. Italy’s ‘political necessity’ was plain.87

  Such retrospective arguments have been correctly characterised as no more than ‘crude propaganda puffery,’88 but there seems little doubt that similar sentiments expressed at the time inflamed that all-important ‘public opinion.’ Indeed, whilst American ‘yellow journalism’ on the part of the Hearst and Pullitzer-owned titles89 is erroneously supposed to have led directly to the Spanish-American War – ‘The yellow press is not to blame for the Spanish-American War. It did not force – it could not have forced – the United States into hostilities with Spain over Cuba in 1898’90 – there seems little doubt that the Italian yellow press was instrumental in causing war with the Ottoman Empire. As Francesco Malgeri stated it, the press campaign ‘he
lped to create […] a climate of excited expectation, to delude which would have been […] very perilous for the survival of the Giolitti government.’91

  This pressure is reflected in a memorandum drawn up by San Giuliano and dated 28 July 1911. Sent to the Prime Minister and Monarch, the document outlined the problems of reconciling an invasion of Tripoli with the ostensible policy of maintaining the Ottoman Empire. He considered that ‘within a few months’ Italy might be ‘forced to carry out the military operation to Tripoli,’ though should seek to avoid it. The reason for this avoidance being the ‘probability (though not certainty) that the blow […] would give to the prestige of the Ottoman Empire, will induce the people of the Balkans to action.’ This would then, in all likelihood, cause Austro-Hungarian intervention, which could damage Italian interests there. His solution to these matters was that Italy, once decided on invasion, should act quickly and with such force as to have the matter decided before complications could arise: ‘It is necessary that all of Europe should find itself in the presence of a fait accompli almost before examining it, and that the situation which follows in international relations should be rapidly liquidated.’ He pointed out that Ottoman military problems, and Italian naval preponderance, would render it difficult for the province to be reinforced. The enterprise was therefore, in the military and naval context, feasible though future Ottoman naval improvements would make this less so in the future. The extent of the operation should go no further than the occupation of the port cities of Tripoli and Benghazi, and:

  This done, we should give to the exercise of our sovereignty over Tripoli the form best suited to reducing to a minimum, at least for a few years, our expenses and the permanent employment of Italian military forces in those regions. It would probably be possible to use the dynasty of the Qaramanli, which has not yet been extinguished, or to come to a solution with Turkey like that adopted for Bosnia in 1878 or with China by Germany and the other European powers.92

  It was, in the context within which it was constructed, a reasonable summary of the situation, together with a solution to potential problems. Though it was to be proved hopelessly optimistic in several areas, it was only factually wrong in its assessments of Ottoman naval potential. The Ottoman Navy in 1911 was a negligible force. In terms of battleships its most modern units were two ex-German Brandenburg class vessels. Commissioned in 1894 as SMS Kurfürst Friedrich Wilhelm and SMS Weißenburg they had been purchased in 1910 and renamed Hayreddin Barbarossa and Turgut Reis respectively. With a displacement of some 10,500 tonnes, and armed with a main battery of six 28 cm guns, these vessels were obsolete stopgaps. The CUP, aware of Ottoman naval incapacity, had sought to remedy it by ordering two new dreadnought battleships from British shipbuilders in June 1911, only one of which was to come to fruition. Vickers laid down this vessel, Reshadiye, a slight variation on the Royal Navy’s King George V class battleship design, on 1 August 1911. The ship was not to be completed until 1914.93

  The Hayreddin Barbarossa was one of two Brandenburg Class battleships acquired by the Ottoman Empire from Germany in 1910. Originally SMS Kurfürst Friedrich Wilhelm, and dating from 1893, the vessel was utterly obsolete when Italy declared war and the Ottoman Fleet wisely refused battle with the more modern and powerful enemy. That this was prudent was confirmed somewhat during the First Balkan War when, during the battles of Elli (3 December 1912) and Lemnos (5 January 1913), an Ottoman contingent centred on the two battleships was unable to prevail against a Greek detachment consisting of lighter ships. They were thus prevented from venturing into the Aegean. The heaviest Greek unit was the armoured-cruiser Georgios Averof that had been constructed in Italy and was a member of the Pisa Class, though with a slightly lighter main armament. (Author’s Collection).

  The Italian Navy was also lacking dreadnoughts in 1911, though had laid four down; one in 1909, Dante Alighieri, and three more, Conte di Cavour, Giulio Cesare and Leonardo da Vinci, in 1910. Nevertheless, against anything other than a dreadnought-armed opponent it was still a powerful force, and against the Ottoman Navy an irresistible one. Its main units comprised the four Regina Elena (sometimes categorised as Vittorio Emanuele) class battleships; Regina Elena, Vittorio Emanuele, Napoli, and Roma. Commissioned between 1901 and 1903 these were fast vessels, though somewhat lightly armed with a main battery of only two 305 mm guns each in single turrets. There were also two ships of the slightly older, (though with main batteries of four 305 mm more heavily gunned), Regina Margherita class, Regina Margherita and Benedetto Brin. Completed in 1904 and 1905 respectively, the former was the Mediterranean fleet flagship, though unavailable in 1911 due to explosion damage sustained whilst in dock. Complementing these were two Ammiraglio di Saint Bon class ships, Ammiraglio di Saint Bon and Emanuele Filiberto, each having four 254 mm guns in their main battery and commissioned in 1901. There were a further three battleships of the Re Umberto class; Re Umberto, Sicilia and Sardegna. Completed 1893-1895, and each armed with obsolescent main batteries of four British 13.5 inch naval guns (also known as the ‘67-ton gun’), these ships would have been of little utility against even a moderately armed naval opponent.

  If Ottoman naval strength in terms of capital ships was pathetic, its strength in cruisers was equally feeble, basically consisting of two protected cruisers (having a protective deck covering the machinery and other vitals). These were the British built Hamidiye (Hamidieh) launched in 1903 and the US constructed Medjidieh (Medjidiye) completed in 1904. Italy though could deploy a number of modern armoured cruisers (fitted with side armour in addition to a protective deck), such as the two vessels of the San Georgio class completed in 1910. San Giorgio and San Marco were powerful ships heavily armed with four 254 mm and eight 203 mm guns and capable of attaining some 23 knots. Also modern were the Pisa class ships; Pisa and Amalfi commissioned in 1909. These were also relatively heavily gunned; the main battery consisted of four 254 mm guns mounted in two twin turrets, whilst there were eight 190.5 mm in the four turrets of the secondary battery. The navy also deployed three older armoured cruisers of the Giuseppe Garibaldi class, Giuseppe Garibaldi (1902), Francesco Ferruccio (1899) andVarese (1902), as well as two Vettor Pisani class ships: Vettor Pisani (1895) and Carlo Alberto (1896). A single, eponymous, member of the Marco Polo class (1892) completed the list.94

  Ottoman vessels of the lighter types were more modern. They possessed four German constructed destroyers of the S165 class laid down in 1910. Renamed Jadhigar-I-Millet, Numene-I-Hamije, Muavenet-i Milliye and Gairet-I-Watanije, these ships displaced some 620 tonnes and were able to make 33 knots. The Imperial German Navy had originally designated them as large torpedo boats, and accordingly their main armament consisted of three 45 cm torpedo tubes. Slightly older (1908), and rather smaller at 305 tonnes, were four French Durandal class vessels, designated as Basra class in Ottoman service: Basra, Tasoz, Samsun, and Yarhisar.These might have been roughly comparable with Italian units of the same type, such as the 910 tonne Soldati Artigliere class of 1906-10 or the 924 tonne 1911 Soldati Alpino class. However, to paraphrase Sir Andrew Cunningham’s alleged phrase, whilst it may take only a few years to build a ship, it takes a lot longer to build a navy. Put simply, in contradistinction to the Italian, the Ottoman Navy had no real organisation, doctrine or culture in 1911, and it would take time to rectify these deficiencies.

  There was thus no way that the Ottoman Navy could catch up with the Italian in any reasonably foreseeable future. Command of the sea was then easily achievable by Italy, and despite the Ottoman territory not being an island it was this command that would dominate the issue; Ottoman military forces in Tripoli could not be easily reinforced or indeed supplied via that route.

  If San Giuliano’s conversion to the principle of Italian military intervention seems established by his memorandum of 28 July, then his diplomatic moves sought to camouflage this. For example, on 26 July the Italian ambassador to London, Guglielmo Imperiali, had met with the British Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey. The ‘
problems’ Italy was having with the regime in Tripoli were related, and, according to Grey’s account of the conversation sent to his representative in Rome two days later, he had told Imperiali:

  […] I desired to sympathize with Italy, in view of the very good relations between us. If it really was the case that Italians were receiving unfair and adverse economic treatment in Tripoli – a place where such treatment was especially disadvantageous to Italy – and should the hand of Italy be forced, I would, if need be, express to the Turks the opinion that, in face of the unfair treatment meted out to Italians, the Turkish Government could not expect anything else.95

  It does not seem, however, that Grey expected military action to ensue as a result of the ‘unfair and adverse’ treatment described. Indeed, on 30 August 1911 he apprised the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, Sir Gerard Lowther, of his discussion with Imperiali, and asked him to convey to the Ottoman Foreign Minister the message that ‘His Majesty’s Government understands the complaint of the Italian Government to be that they receive less favourable treatment in Tripoli than other nations.’96 Further, San Guiliano’s conversations on the subject with the ambassadors of Italy’s allies, Austria-Hungary and Germany, held on 29 July 1911, seem to have revolved around telling them that his government might be forced into ‘energetic action’ by the ‘atrocious calumnies’ being published in Tripoli regarding the Italian Army.97

  It was certainly the case that San Giuliano and Giolotti were reluctant to inform any of the other Great Powers over the true nature of their deliberations concerning Tripoli. This was from fear that, as had happened vis-à-vis France and Germany concerning Morocco in the Tangier, or First Moroccan, Crisis of 1905-6, and indeed the more recent Second Moroccan, or Agadir, Crisis that was still in the process of being negotiated away (the Treaty of Fez was signed on 30 March 1912), pressure would be brought to organise a conference where Italy would have had her demands effectively arbitrated. As Giolitti put it in his memoirs (published some eleven years later):