Staring at God

by Simon Heffer

  Asquith’s conception of Armageddon did not involve Britain. Apart from continuing the long-held policy of non-intervention in European conflicts, there was another practical reason why British involvement in any war seemed out of the question. The government had been told it would take the entire potential British Expeditionary Force – the number of soldiers earmarked by the Army reforms of 1908 to be dispatched to the Continent in the event of an emergency – to enforce Home Rule in Ireland; it could not mount a European campaign as well, so choices would have to be made.60 However, this was the moment when Europe replaced Ireland as the main preoccupation of the cabinet or when, as Churchill memorably put it, ‘the parishes of Fermanagh and Tyrone faded back into the mists and squalls of Ireland, and a strange light began immediately, but by perceptible gradations, to fall and grow upon the map of Europe.’61 He already saw the danger to British security of a war between the continental powers, and was determined to persuade his colleagues of it. From then, according to the memoirs of Lord Beaverbrook, Churchill became ‘the leader of the War party in the Cabinet.’62

  That afternoon Grey received a telegram from Crackanthorpe relaying the plea of the ‘anxious and dejected’ Serbian prime minister to help moderate Austria’s ‘impossible’ demands.63 Within twenty minutes de Bunsen had wired from Vienna, reporting a conversation with the French ambassador there: the Frenchman had seen their Serbian colleague, who reported an ‘active exchange’ of telegrams between Belgrade and St Petersburg about the Serbian response. Almost immediately, Crackanthorpe telegraphed again to say the Serbian government had told him certain demands were ‘quite unacceptable’.64

  Later that evening de Bunsen reported that the ultimatum ‘had given great satisfaction throughout Dual Monarchy, which felt its very existence was at stake’. The Austrian minister for foreign affairs, de Bunsen added, ‘could not believe that any power could think of raising objections’ to a note that Vienna’s diplomatic community had agreed was ‘curt and peremptory’. The ultimatum stimulated frenetic diplomatic activity across Europe. Grey saw Cambon and stressed it was only those powers without a direct interest in Serbia – Britain, France, Germany and Italy – that could moderate between Vienna and St Petersburg. Cambon said such moderation would have to wait until the Russians had expressed an opinion; but once Austria entered Serbia it would be too late, as pro-Slav opinion in Russia would force its government to act. Grey and Cambon agreed that German participation in this exercise was essential: and Grey, rather naively, believed that if Russia and Austria did prepare to fight, their advances could be stopped to allow mediation. Cambon countered that once Austria advanced on Serbia it would be too late to stop anything.

  Grey asked Lichnowsky about the possibility of the combined powers mediating between Austria and Serbia. He was met by equivocation: Lichnowsky could not second-guess Berlin, where different interests – notably the army – were arguing for the ear of the Kaiser, and opinions on how to proceed seemed fluid. Grey told Lichnowsky that, given the stiffness of the Austrian note, there was no likelihood of his calming the Russians down. The silence from St Petersburg was also deeply troubling to Grey. Lichnowsky warned that if Serbia did not send ‘a reply that was favourable on some points’ Austria must be expected to move at once: he urged Grey to relay the message that Serbia had to buy time with Austria by being reasonable, to give others a chance to intervene.65 Grey informed Berlin of this, and copied in Britain’s other ambassadors among the great powers.

  In the course of their meeting Lichnowsky clarified the German government’s position to Grey. It was sure Serbia had engineered the Sarajevo attack, as part of a programme ‘directed towards the detachment of the southern Slav provinces from the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and their incorporation into the Servian Kingdom’.66 This was, the Germans were also convinced, executed ‘with at least the connivance of members of the Government and army.’ Serbia had broken promises about its good conduct; and Germany believed Austria would no longer be a great power if it allowed Serbia to go unpunished. However Berlin, far from being bellicose, wanted the matter to remain a quarrel between Austria and Serbia: ‘The Imperial Government desire urgently the localisation of the conflict,’ its official response to the Austrian note said, ‘because every interference of another Power would, owing to the different treaty obligations, be followed by incalculable consequences.’ The next day The Times reported that the harsh tone of the note had been greeted with ‘surprise’ in Berlin, but the German government and most of the people supported the Dual Monarchy entirely ‘because she cannot now go back.’67

  The Foreign Office’s first reaction was that the ‘extreme nature’ of Austria’s demands and the time limit made it very difficult to contain the conflict to just Austria and Serbia. Crowe believed there was, as yet, insufficient evidence on which Austria could base its claim of Serbian control of the nationalists, and therefore that Germany’s unequivocal support of those claims was dangerous. It was not until 8 p.m. on 24 July that Grey had the first evidence of Russia’s position. Buchanan telegraphed to say that the Russian foreign minister’s initial view was that the ultimatum ‘meant war’.68 Sasonov had seen Buchanan at the French embassy in St Petersburg: he and the French ambassador told him Russia and France had, before Poincaré’s departure for Paris, agreed various points they wished to share with their British ally.

  Buchanan relayed those points. The French and Russians agreed on the need to maintain peace and the balance of power; but felt the ultimatum was ‘equivalent to an intervention in the internal affairs of Servia which the latter would be justified in regarding as an attack on her sovereignty and independence’; and there was a ‘solemn affirmation of obligations imposed by the alliance of the two countries.’ This introduced Sasonov’s key point: ‘the hope that His Majesty’s Government would proclaim their solidarity with France and Russia.’ He told Buchanan that Austria’s conduct was ‘immoral and provocative’. He believed Germany must have been complicit in the demands. Ominously, the French ambassador told Buchanan that France’s support of Russia would not be confined to diplomacy.

  Buchanan said he could not speak for his government, telling Grey he had said that ‘I could personally hold out no hope that His Majesty’s Government would make any declaration of solidarity that would entail engagement to support France and Russia by force of arms.’ He had, he reported, added to Sasonov: ‘We had no direct interests in Servia, and public opinion in England would never sanction a war on her behalf.’ Sasonov, who said Britain could not stand apart on the general European question, dismissed this. He had thought a Russian mobilisation likely; but any decision to declare war on Austria, if it attacked Serbia, would be taken by a council of ministers under the Tsar the next day. The French ambassador told Buchanan what Cambon had told Grey: it was too late to intervene in Vienna, and Austria had either to attack or climb down.

  The British ambassador continued to resist pressure from his fellow diplomats to pledge British support, but said he would urge Grey – and this was the crux of his telegram – to make the strongest representations to Berlin and Vienna about the dangers of attacking Serbia. He advised Grey to warn both powers that Russia would feel compelled to intervene, which would bring France into the field. If Germany followed, ‘it would be difficult for England to remain neutral.’69 Buchanan feared that if war broke out ‘we would sooner or later be dragged into it’, but also felt that if Britain did not make common cause quickly, war would be more likely. It was a perfect expression of the problem Britain faced. It might not have any interest in Serbia, but its allies did.

  Crowe, on seeing Buchanan’s note to Grey, observed it was manifestly too late to enlist the French to hold back Russia if Austria attacked Serbia. The internal dynamics of the Triple Entente were irrelevant. ‘The point that matters,’ he observed with acuity, ‘is whether Germany is or is not absolutely determined to have this war now.’70 The only way to make Germany hesitate was to create no doubt that she would �
��find England by the side of France and Russia.’ He suggested that a way to drive that message home was for the government to ‘give orders to put our whole fleet on an immediate war footing’ the moment Russia or Austria mobilised.

  Crowe could see no merit in dithering: Britain had to know what to do ‘in circumstances that may arise tomorrow.’71 His logic was brutal:

  Should the war come, and England stand aside, one of two things must happen:

  (a) Either Germany and Austria win, crush France, and humiliate Russia. With the French fleet gone, Germany in occupation of the Channel, with the willing or unwilling cooperation of Holland and Belgium, what will be the position of a friendless England?

  (b) Or France and Russia win. What would then be their attitude towards England? What about India and the Mediterranean?

  Crowe disputed that war would be about Serbia. It would be ‘between Germany aiming at a political dictatorship in Europe and the Powers who desire to retain individual freedom.’ A show of willingness to use naval power might forestall this, so the effort had to be made. He advised an immediate decision to mobilise the Fleet in the event of any foreign mobilisation, with that decision notified at once to France and Russia.

  Nicolson agreed Crowe’s points merited ‘serious consideration’, and stressed the importance of not alienating Russia, who could make things difficult for Britain in the Mediterranean, the Middle East and India. Grey confirmed that Churchill had told him the Fleet could be mobilised within twenty-four hours, but Grey believed it was premature to alert either France or Russia to this. The Fleet had started to disperse after the review but was mostly in place, so getting it at the ready would be straightforward; and leaving the Fleet in a state of readiness was, Grey felt, ‘entirely justified’, given the diplomatic situation.72

  Late on 24 July Grey telegraphed Crackanthorpe in Belgrade about his conversation with Lichnowsky, urging him to consult his French and Russian colleagues about a joint approach to the Serbian government ‘to give a favourable reply on as many points as possible within the limit of time, and not to meet the Austrian demand with a blank negative.’73 Grey then heard from Berlin that the French ambassador there had told Gottlieb von Jagow, the German foreign minister, that the Kaiser’s government could not ‘maintain [the] fiction’ that the dispute between Austria and Serbia could be localised.74 He had disputed that the Serbs would accept Austria’s terms, saying if the King of Serbia ordered their acceptance he would probably be assassinated. Jagow had, though, conceded that the note was ‘too stiff’. The French ambassador believed the Austrians were bluffing.

  Austria then began to behave as though it were bluffing. After Grey had gone home Mensdorff rang the Foreign Office to ask whether he could see him at once. When Hugh Montgomery, the assistant clerk who took the call, could not find Grey, Mensdorff asked him to call at the embassy. He told Montgomery the Austrian note ‘was not an ultimatum but a “démarche with a time limit”, and that if the Austrian demands were not complied with within the time limit his Government would break off diplomatic relations and commence military preparations (not operations).’75 It seemed Austria had considered the consequences, and was blinking first. Grey wired the news to Buchanan, copying in Paris: ‘It makes the immediate situation rather less acute,’ he observed. That was not how matters appeared in Hungary. Britain’s Consul General in Budapest, W. G. Max Müller, telegraphed that evening – his wire arrived just after midnight – to say the Hungarians did not expect Russian intervention, and were therefore putting it about that if a ‘favourable reply is not received on Saturday [25 July], eight army corps will be mobilised on Sunday morning … monitors have already been sent to Lower Danube.’76 The Hungarians’ confidence about Russian intentions was misplaced. Early on 25 July the Russian government published a communiqué to say it was ‘intently following’ events between Austria and Serbia ‘with respect to which Russia cannot remain indifferent.’77

  The Times bluntly told the government to ignore the Irish conference – which had broken down – and concentrate on the ‘grave crisis’ in Europe.78 Presumably to shock the government out of its inertia, it stated: ‘We cannot share the confidence which is felt, or affected, in Berlin and Rome that a conflict between Austria–Hungary and Servia will be “localised” and that complications are improbable.’ It added that ‘the Wilhelmstrasse [the German Foreign Ministry and Chancellery], it is said, holds that Servia is “morally isolated”. The news from St Petersburg is an ominous comment on such an assumption.’ It condemned Austria’s conduct as ‘hardly … statesmanlike’, and assumed the country wanted a fight: it also observed that the conflagration its aggression might provoke would place ‘the very existence of the Monarchy at stake. No effort should be spared to save her and to save Europe from so grievous a mistake.’

  Grey remained remarkably passive despite such exhortations: he neither sought instructions from his cabinet colleagues to engage in more active diplomacy, nor took any initiative of his own to talk directly to his counterparts in Vienna or Berlin. He learned that afternoon that the Austrian minister to Belgrade had been instructed to leave with his staff at 6 p.m. that evening if no satisfactory reply had been received. He now accepted that Austria and Russia would mobilise ‘in very short time’, and the only chance of peace was for the other great powers to ask Austria and Russia not to cross frontiers, and to try to talk some sense into the prospective belligerents.79 He realised the cooperation of Germany would be ‘essential’. Nonetheless he told Buchanan: ‘I do not consider public opinion here would or ought to sanction our going to war in the Servian quarrel.’80

  News from Belgrade for a moment seemed to suggest that, after all, there would be no cause to appeal to public opinion. That afternoon Crackanthorpe wired to Grey that he understood the Serbian reply ‘will be drawn up in most conciliatory terms and will meet Austrian demands in as large measure as possible.’81 The Serbs would agree to a mixed commission of inquiry ‘provided that the appointment of the commission can be proved to be in accordance with international usage’. It agreed to dismiss and prosecute any officers whose guilt could be proved, and to suppress Narodna Odbrana. Crackanthorpe added: ‘Opinion of Servian Government is that, unless Austrian Government desire war at any cost, they will accept full satisfaction offered in Servian reply.’82

  Grey shared this sudden optimism: he told Lichnowsky so. He wanted to remind the German ambassador that ‘it is difficult for anybody but an ally to suggest to the Austrian Government what view they should take of it.’83 He hoped, if Crackanthorpe’s understanding of the reply was correct, that Germany would exert its influence with the Austrians to persuade them to take a ‘favourable view’ of it. He reported this to Rumbold; he had tried to contact senior French officials to enlist their support, but Poincaré and his suite were en route from St Petersburg and incommunicado. Acting on a Russian initiative, Grey instructed de Bunsen to support his Russian counterpart’s intervention in Vienna to plead for an extension of the time limit.

  At 6 p.m. on 25 July, just as the ultimatum was expiring, Grey heard from Rumbold that Lichnowsky, as good as his word, had asked the German Foreign Office to request an extension. Rumbold also reported, however, that Berlin was pessimistic, believing Austria had decided ‘to give the Servians a lesson, and that they meant to take military action.’84 Serbia’s reply conciliated Austria on almost every point, and those it did not wholly accept it accepted conditionally: but Austria was resolute. Britain had urged Serbia to conciliate Austria even though Austria could find no evidence for its assertions. ‘The Serbian answer went further than we had ventured to hope in the way of submission,’ Grey wrote years later. ‘From that moment things went from bad to worse.’85

  Rumbold had heard that Berchtold had told Russia’s man in Vienna that Austria–Hungary had no intention of seizing Serbian territory; and, for what it was worth, the Germans believed this would soothe tempers in St Petersburg. The Germans had told Russia that the last thing they
wanted was a general war, and they would back Grey’s suggestion for a four-power solution or mediation, which the foreign secretary had made on 26 July. From Rumbold’s report it is clear the German Foreign Ministry did not understand the depth of Russian feeling about an attack on their fellow Slavs: and for all their disappointment with their Austrian allies (Jagow ‘confessed privately that as a diplomatic document [the] note left much to be desired’), the Germans seemed to think a conflagration could be avoided.86 It was strongly Grey’s belief that the only people it was worth Britain talking to, in the interests of stopping war, were the Germans.

  Things were, as Grey soon learned, seen differently in Paris. A French newspaper had accused Germany of complicity in drawing up the note – something the Germans adamantly denied – and attacked Germany and Austria for seeking to humiliate the Triple Entente, forcing this crisis when Britain was preoccupied with Ireland, Russia had problems with workers’ unrest, and the leadership of France was sailing back from the Baltic. The Germans protested vociferously, but the damage was done in terms of French public opinion. Just after 9 p.m. Grey heard that all preparations for ‘instant mobilisation’ had been completed in Vienna, and de Bunsen relayed an unconfirmed report that a detachment of siege trains, loaded with howitzers, had left Vienna’s southern station.87 In Britain, it would become widely believed – thanks mainly to the press – that even if the Germans had not drawn up the note, Austria’s threatening behaviour was shaped by a sincere belief that Germany would support them; and that the Germans had given them reason for that conviction.