The Russian Council of Ministers met and decided to try to persuade Austria to extend the July 25 deadline. It decided also to advise Serbia to offer the least possible resistance to any Austrian agreement. Finally, it decided to ask the Czar to agree, at least in principle, to partial mobilization of the armed forces. Without going into details (although historians have been doing so ever since), "partial mobilization" consisted of a number of measures, some feasible and others not, none of which would have significantly helped to defend Russia and most of which put Russia in a less advantageous position than before. It was an essentially political concept, muddled and unclear, intended to convey the message that Russia was resolved to act if necessary, but did not wish to alarm or provoke Germany or Austria as a full mobilization—a real mobilization—would have done.
Russia, as so often had been the case, was a mystery to the European world in 1914. Its immense size and seemingly Oriental foreignness were frightening. It was the largest of countries, and the size of its population—170 million—was intimidating. Yet its ministers saw Russia in July 1914 as vulnerable.
The pace of its industrialization and its growing railroad network and its modern rearmament program, in large part financed by France, started with Russia so far behind as to make progress seem far greater than it was. In Western Europe, and in Germany in particular, the future Russian threat loomed large. In the spring of 1914, the British ambassador to Russia advised London that "Russia is rapidly becoming so powerful that we must retain her friendship at almost any cost."
But as the historian D. W. Spring reminds us, "this was not how the Russian government and public saw their position in the world in 1913–14." They saw their country as surrounded by "ten states with half the world's population," of which "three or four were directly hostile." Its government was largely ineffective. For the most part, the country remained backward: a peasant economy a century or so behind the times. Such industrialization as had taken place did so to the accompaniment of social strife; in St. Petersburg in July 1914, "180,000 industrial workers out of a total of 242,000 were on strike."
Although the masses played no role in foreign policy decisionmaking, there was a sort of public opinion, however weak, that found expression in the Council of Ministers meeting of July 24.
It was one of those rare moments of concord. The press, government ministers, and the public all seemed to be of one mind. Russia wanted Serbia to make whatever concessions were necessary. Russians wanted peace and knew that they were not prepared for war. On the other hand, there was a consensus that in the past Russia had made concessions to the German-speaking powers in the interests of peace, but had found that such concessions only encouraged Berlin and Vienna to ask for more. The summer of 1914 seemed to Russia to be a good time to experiment with the opposite approach. This time, in a nonprovocative way, the Russian ministers intended to stand firm.
One unstable element, however, was introduced into decisionmaking by the indecisiveness of Czar Nicholas II. The Russian monarch was a weak character inadequately prepared to assume the crown, of whose costly errors—notably the disastrous war against Japan—he was all too well aware. He had inherited autocratic powers but had been compelled to proclaim his position to be that of a semi-constitutional emperor.
The emotional focus of Nicholas's life was his home: the wife and daughters he adored, and the son Alexei, not quite ten years old in July 1914, whose hemophilia hung like a sword over the monarchy.
Nicholas, whatever his feelings for Serbs as fellow Slavs, was bound to feel strongly about regicides. His grandfather Alexander II, who had freed the serfs, was subject to more than a half dozen assassination attempts before the fatal one.
Moreover, Nicholas had begun his reign somewhat under the sway of Kaiser Wilhelm. Nicholas was crowned in 1895 at the age of twenty-six. Wilhelm, nine years older, had occupied the German throne six years longer. "Willy" influenced "Nicky" for a decade, giving him dangerously bad advice, turning his mind to conquests in the Far East that led to the disastrous war with Japan (1904–05) that brought about Russia's near-collapse as a Great Power. It culminated in the revolution of 1905.
At the end of 1905 and of Wilhelm's influence, the Czar fell under the spell of another dangerous figure, the peasant religious healer Gregory Rasputin, who offered hope of curing the hemophiliac heir apparent. The trusting and vulnerable imperial couple, Nicholas and his wife, Alexandra, who cared more for the life of their son than for anything else, seemed to be placing the Czarevich's fate in the hands of Rasputin, he of the deep voice, hypnotic eyes, and soothing touch. Physically powerful, Rasputin was driven by almost insatiable lusts; scandalmongers were kept busy adding women's names to the list of his conquests, which was said to include the Empress Alexandra and one of her daughters, which the monk's wife, left at home in Siberia with their four children, took pride in: "He has enough for all," she boasted.
The hold exercised by this fraudulent and wicked magician over the royal family brought the monarchy itself into disrepute as the July crisis of 1914 approached. It was predictable that at least some section of the public would blame Rasputin's influence for the tragic turn in Russia's destiny in and after 1914.
In fact, Rasputin consistently advocated peace. In the Balkan war crisis of 1908 he had said: "The Balkans are not worth fighting for." In 1914, recovering in his peasant village from an assassination attempt, he angered the Czar by cabling him, after hostilities already had begun: "Let Papa not plan war, for with the war will come the end of Russia and yourselves and you will lose to the last man."
In London on July 24 the Russian ambassador told the German ambassador "in strict confidence" that it was "scarcely possible" for Russia "to advise the Serbian Government to accept" the ultimatum "unless she was to sink to the level of a vassal of Austria." He said: "Public opinion in Russia would not tolerate that." Vienna's intentions now were clear. "Only a government that wanted war could possibly write such a note."
Rumors reached Berlin that the ultimatum was being attributed to Germany. From its foreign office streamed denials. To German envoys in Paris, London, and St. Petersburg it cabled instructions to deny the charge. "We exercised no influence of any kind with regard to the contents of the note." Nonetheless Berlin was "unable to counsel Vienna to retract" because retraction would cause Austria-Hungary to lose prestige.
From its ambassador in Vienna, Germany learned that Berchtold had called in a Russian envoy for a soothing talk, at which the Austrian foreign minister had denied having any desire to upset the balance of power or to disturb Russia. He appealed for a united front of Europe's monarchs against the common danger arising from a "Serbian policy conducted with revolver and with bomb."
Reading an account of this conversation, Kaiser Wilhelm noted his disapproval. Of Berchtold's profession of good intentions toward Russia, he commented "absolutely superfluous! Will give the impression of weakness and the impression of an apology." Calling Berchtold an "Ass!" the Kaiser noted: "Austria must become preponderant in the Balkans as compared with the little ones, and at Russia's expense; otherwise there will be no peace."
• • •
France's foreign policy leaders knew little of what was happening. By Austria's design, they were aboard ship when the crisis erupted. The President, the Prime Minister who also served as foreign minister, and their chief foreign policy aide were aware that the messages were not getting through. They were not aware that they were being jammed by the Germans.
The French leaders had come from conversations with the Czar and the Russian government. Little is known of what was said. But Poincaré's policy from the outset had been to restrain Russia from doing anything that could provoke Germany. The President was keenly aware that France was in no military position to fight a war. There is no reason to believe that he said anything different during his stay in Russia.
However, once the French leaders departed, their country's remaining spokesman in St. Petersburg played the part
of a sort of rogue ambassador. Maurice Paléologue, who had presented his credentials only five months earlier, was a personality in his own right, whose tendency was to pursue his own foreign policy. He left Russia's government with the impression that France would back it unconditionally. A recent study of French prewar diplomacy by M. B. Hayne tells us that, unlike others, Paléologue believed that the French and Russian armies were at their peak. Assuming that Germany intended to force a European war, he advocated fighting it as soon as possible. In that respect, he was a sort of Moltke. It is not evident how much he influenced the decisions the Russian leaders made, for they distrusted him.
An inquiry from Vienna to Berlin dated July 22 did not arrive until the twenty-fourth. The Hapsburg Empire was about to break all relations with Serbia. No Austrian officials would be left behind. How, then, would the Dual Monarchy declare war on Serbia? Who would actually deliver the declaration? Would Germany do it on Austria's behalf?
From the foreign office, Jagow replied that it would not be a good idea: "Our standpoint has to be that the quarrel with Serbia is an Austro-Hungarian internal affair." Yet Berlin and Vienna were discussing modalities of declaring war even before the Austrian ultimatum was delivered, let alone answered, let alone answered unsatisfactorily.
Count von Berchtold, Austrian minister of foreign affairs
British Prime Minister Herbert Asquith
British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey
David Lloyd George Chancellor of the Exchequer
Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty
Russian Foreign Minister Serge Sazonov
Czar Nicholas II and French President Raymond Poincareé
In Paris, King George V and President Poincaré
Joseph Caillaux, Prime Minister of France
Mme Caillaux
Kaiser Wilhelm II and General von Moltke viewing maneuvers
German General Erich von Falkenhayn
Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg
TOP: German Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz.
BELOW: Prince karl Lichnowsky, German
Ambassador to Britain, leaving the Foreign
Office as the war begins
CHAPTER 31: SERBIA MORE OR
LESS ACCEPTS
A "pretty strong note," the Kaiser, aboard ship, remarked to the chief of his Naval Cabinet, Admiral von Müller. The emperor had learned about the Austrian ultimatum. But "it means war," responded the admiral. No, said Wilhelm, Serbia would never risk it.
The Regent of Serbia, Prince Alexander, visited the Russian legation in Belgrade the night of July 23–24 "to express his despair over the Austrian ultimatum, compliance with which he regards as an absolute impossibility for a state which had the slightest regard for its dignity." His hopes lay with the Czar, he said, "whose powerful word could alone save Serbia." Pasic, the Prime Minister, also stopped in at the Russian legation, later, en route to the 5 a.m. meeting of available cabinet ministers.
But Russia offered nothing more than moral support. From St. Petersburg, Sazonov, speaking only for himself, said that his country would offer help, but did not specify what form that help would take. In the end the Czar's government suggested that Serbia—if resistance were hopeless—should retreat rather than resist, and rely on the sense of justice of Europe to rectify matters. Neither Russia nor its ally France was ready to fight, especially for Serbia.
At first the Serbian government was inclined to be defiant. As the ministers thrashed things out they fell into a more realistic mood.
It was common ground among the Serbian leaders that their country would be crushed in a war against the Dual Monarchy. Only Russia, or a combination of the neutral powers, could save them. Such support would be difficult to obtain in any event, and all the more so because there was so little time: the Serbian response was due at 6 p.m., July 25. Pasic and his colleagues were at work continuously, veering between total acceptance of the ultimatum and the temptation to add conditions or qualifications that would allow them later to slip out from under Vienna's rigid requirements.
As language was added, changed, and crossed out, the text became less and less legible. Yet it had to be readable enough so that the translator could do his job. Revised and retyped many times, it still remained messy as the deadline approached. The typist was inexperienced; the typewriter broke down. With less than two hours to go, an attempt was made to start again in longhand.
The final document looked more like a first draft, with words crossed out, inkblots, and the like. As nobody else volunteered to carry it, Pasic did so himself, hurrying to the Austrian legation to hand Serbia's reply to Giesl before the 6 p.m. deadline. He may have been slightly late. Giesl read it quickly, standing up. He already had destroyed his papers and packed his bags. An automobile was poised to drive him to the railroad station. He went through the brief forms of breaking off diplomatic relations, and then left to catch his train.
The response to the ultimatum, it was believed outside of Austria-Hungary, accepted all conditions but one. In fact, it contained a number of reservations. (See Appendix 2, pp. 313–16.) It hardly mattered, for the Dual Monarchy was just going through the formalities.
The shipowner Albert Ballin later remembered the "disappointment" in the German foreign office when the news arrived that Serbia had accepted—followed by "tremendous joy" when a correction was received: Serbia had not fully accepted. Should the Kaiser be recalled? No, said Ballin's foreign office source: "on the contrary everything must be done to ensure that he does not interfere in things with his pacifist ideas."
Berchtold took the position that his note to Serbia was not an ultimatum because a declaration of war did not automatically follow when the time limit expired. As late as July 25, Berchtold was telling the Russians that the Austrian break in relations with Serbia would not necessarily lead to a war: "our demands could bring about a peaceful solution."
But then a cable arrived from his ambassador in Berlin, reminding him that Germany expected Austria to commence hostilities. "Here every delay in the beginning of war operations is regarded as signifying the danger that the foreign powers might interfere. We are urgently advised to proceed without delay."
Might convening a conference of the neutral powers prevent the outbreak of war? Sir Edward Grey sounded out opinion on the question. The conference that Grey had convoked in London in 1913 had brought peace, however temporarily, to the Balkans; perhaps it might do so again. But was it the right time to put forward such a proposal? For the moment, the quarrel concerned only Austria and Serbia; it was not yet between Austria and Russia.
To Grey's surprise, the Russian ambassador guessed that his government would not agree to a conference. If Germany, Italy, France, and Britain were to mediate between Austria and Russia, it would look, he said, as though France and Britain had split from their Russian ally. When the question was put to St. Petersburg, however, Sazonov made no such difficulty.
Grey sent notes to his ambassador in St. Petersburg on July 2 5 outlining his position. He wrote: "I do not consider that public opinion here would or ought to sanction our going to a war over a Serbian quarrel. If, however, war does take place, the development of other issues may draw us into it, and I am therefore anxious to prevent it." In view of Austria's actions, he wrote, Austria and Russia almost inevitably would mobilize against one another; and that is when a four-power mediation might be opportune.
It was a Saturday. Grey felt the threat of war was not immediate enough to keep him from the countryside. He placed matters in the hands of his assistant and left town.
• • •
A cable from Germany's envoy in Belgrade described the confusion and dismay of the Serbian government in dealing with the Austrian ultimatum. Kaiser Wilhelm was delighted. "Bravo! One would not have believed it of the Viennese! . . . How hollow the whole Serbian power is proving itself to be; thus it is seen to be with all the Slav nations! Just tread hard in the heels of that rabble!"
July 25. St.
Petersburg. Evening. The Russian General Staff inaugurated the "Period Preparatory to War," the first step on the road that, if further steps were taken, could lead to mobilization.
Paris. The acting government of France took its first military preparedness steps. Secretly, it recalled its generals to duty on July 25; it canceled leaves of officers and troops July 26; and it ordered the bulk of its army of occupation in Morocco to return to France on July 27.
Berlin. The foreign minister, Jagow, told German journalist Theodor Wolff that "neither London, nor Paris nor St. Petersburg wants war."
PART SEVEN
COUNTDOWN
CHAPTER 32: SHOWDOWN IN BERLIN
Germany's leading military figures had been ostentatiously on leave in July. So had the Kaiser, the Chancellor, and the foreign secretary. In fact, they returned to Berlin from time to time, often secretly. And their aides kept the military officers well informed.
After the Austrians had set a fixed date for their ultimatum, Berlin quietly signaled its leaders to return. They did so from July 23 onward, returning singly but then seeking each other out.
In a sort of movable secret conference, about which we know from the reports of the Saxon and Bavarian military attaches, Germany's military leaders on the one hand, and the civilian leaders, the Chancellor and his foreign office officials on the other, debated what to do next. Their best information was that Austria now claimed it would be at least two more weeks—perhaps August 12—before it could attack Serbia. The Germans, military and civilian alike, were disgusted by Austria's indolence.
Europe's Last Summer Page 19
