Hidden History: The Secret Origins of the First World War.

by Gerry Docherty

  This was the trip that Edward Grey had assured deeply concerned MPs was ‘purely dictated by family affection’ and had no ‘suspicion of politics attached to it’.

  Reval was the final piece in a complex diplomatic strategy that started in Copenhagen with King Edward’s loyal agent, then Russian ambassador to Denmark, Alexander Isvolsky. It was there in 1904 and 1905 that Isvolsky had, by his own account, long interviews with the king in which they settled the basis of the Anglo-Russian entente.14 Shortly before the visit to Reval, the king and his entourage met secretly with Isvolsky in the Bohemian spa resort of Marienbad,15 ostensibly to take the waters like tourists. Days later, Isvolsky moved on to Reval and was present there to greet the king on his arrival. He engaged in the public charade of being introduced to King Edward and his team as if for the first time.16 When Stolypin met, first with the king and then with Fisher, French and Hardinge, he seems to have been unaware that Isvolsky had been at Marienbad or that their discussions had previously been rehearsed. Isvolsky, like his French counterpart, Delcassé, was truly King Edward’s man.

  Germany viewed this ‘family gathering’ with justified suspicion. What did the Anglo-Russian discussions really mean? Were they a cover for a secret alliance that would snare Germany between antagonistic nations? What were the unspoken subtexts? German newspapers declared that a mighty coalition had been formed against the Triple Alliance. It was a view shared by Belgian diplomats who recognised that King Edward had isolated the kaiser and that this new Triple Entente was ‘united by a common hatred of Germany’.17 All of which was repeatedly denied. Edward Grey claimed that Britain had simply removed any danger of a breach of peace ‘either between us and France or us and Russia’. It was about ‘friendship’ and was not intended to ‘isolate’ Germany. Furthermore, Grey denied that Germany was isolated, as she had two great friends in the Triple Alliance: Austria and Italy.18 His shameless protestations polished a veneer of innocence over the Secret Elite triumph. Germany was now surrounded.

  The czar made a reciprocal visit to Britain in 1909 in the company of Alexander Isvolsky. Public reaction was so heated that he dared not leave the safety of his yacht, Standart,19 guarded as he was by two dreadnoughts and two hundred detectives.20 He was mightily impressed when he reviewed the Northern Squadron of the British fleet off Spithead from the safety of his imperial yacht. One hundred and fifty-three combat ships were arranged in three parallel lines in a stunning show of naval power. The subtext was clear. Russia didn’t yet have a fleet capable of defeating Germany, but her new friend, Britain, did.

  What does it tell us about the extent to which the Secret Elite were prepared to go to isolate Germany? Public opinion mattered not. Liberal values were expendable. Human decency and democracy ignored. Their agents agreed the secret alliance and closed the net. The deed was done. All that now remained before war broke out was careful preparation and a suitable excuse.

  Cue Alexander Isvolsky. The Russian was, first and foremost, the king’s chosen man. He had been elevated from the relative obscurity of the Danish court in Copenhagen to the royal palaces of St Petersburg on Edward’s personal recommendation. The Secret Elite controlled him, and their large bribes underwrote his lavish lifestyle. Isvolsky was central to the successful convention between Britain and Russia by which their major differences in Afghanistan, Tibet and Persia had been settled. He even managed to conclude a Russian agreement with Japan to define the spheres of influence between them in China.21 For a foreign minister of a country that had recently been crushed by Japan, these were great achievements. They happened so readily because every action he took harmonised with the Secret Elite’s policy.22 It ensured that Russia and Japan would act together as a bulwark against German expansion in the Far East. Isvolsky’s achievement was entirely predicated upon meeting the needs of his British masters. He formally closed the chapter on Russian imperial designs in the east and turned St Petersburg towards a new era of harmony with Britain, precisely as the Secret Elite had dictated.

  Isvolsky’s next move came in the Balkans, and it stirred more than just controversy. That backward corner of south-east Europe had long been troubled ground, and in the early years of the twentieth century the physical clash of cultures, language, religions and long-standing animosities was deliberately pressed into intrigue and war. The Ottoman Empire had ruled the Balkans for at least 400 years, but the deterioration of its control was underlined by a bankrupt government in Constantinople. A strong Ottoman Empire had acted as a barrier to ambitious European expansion, but the fast-evaporating remnant of the great heyday of Ottoman rule signalled an outburst of calls for annexation, independence and political realignments by the numerous small nations comprising the Balkans.

  The first element in what was to provide the slow-burning fuse for the First World War began in 1908 thanks directly to Alexander Isvolsky. Austria-Hungary had held administrative control of the Balkan provinces of Bosnia-Herzegovina since the Treaty of Berlin in 1878, and in the intervening 30 years had built roads, schools and hospitals.23 Serbs, who comprised 42 per cent of the population, resented Austrian rule, but it was popular with a significant number of Muslims and Croats. In October 1908, Austria’s decision to formally annex Bosnia-Herzegovina and bring it under direct rule from Vienna caused indignation both inside the province and, most vocally, in neighbouring Serbia. Russia had long made claim to be the protector of the Slavic peoples in the Balkans, and such a bold and provocative move could not have taken place without her agreement. So what happened?

  Just days after his diplomatic intrigues with the Secret Elite at Marienbad and Reval, Isvolsky sent the Austrian foreign minister, Count Alois Aehrenthal, a memorandum. He proposed a meeting to discuss changes to the 1878 Treaty of Berlin without the knowledge or approval of the czar or the Russian government. He agreed to the Austro-Hungarian annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina in return for a promise that Russian interest in the Straits and Constantinople would be supported by the Austrians.

  From the start of the discussions, it was evident that Count Aehrenthal was acting in concert with his own government; Isvolsky was not. On 16 September 1908, they met in secret at Buchlau in Moravia. The Austrian minister was accompanied by diplomats and Foreign Office officials from Vienna.24 Isvolsky had no one by his side to witness the talks, and no minutes were made during a meeting that lasted six hours. It was a very bold and dangerous move for any Russian politician to make on his own, but Isvolsky was not entirely on his own.

  The British Foreign Office certainly knew what was being proposed before the ‘top-secret’ talks were concluded. Indeed, it was claimed that the Austrians had been encouraged by the British Foreign Office to proceed with the annexation.25 Sir Edward Grey colluded with Isvolsky. He knew that the proposed action would deeply offend Serbia,26 and both had agreed that she would be due compensation. This being so, the Secret Elite knew exactly what was being proposed and precisely what Isvolsky was doing.

  On 6 October, Emperor Franz Joseph announced that Bosnia-Herzegovina had been annexed. With its accustomed two-faced approach to transparency, the British government proclaimed that it was unacceptable for any country to alter a treaty unilaterally.27 A flurry of diplomatic protests followed. Inside the provinces themselves, the diverse population of Greek Orthodox Christians, Muslims and other Christian sects promised a dangerous mix of ethnic protest.

  Isvolsky fanned the flame of Balkan nationalism. Serbia mobilised its army on 7 October and demanded that the annexation be reversed or, failing that, she should receive compensation.28 When Serbia called for Russian military support, Aehrenthal publicly revealed Isvolsky’s involvement in the secret deal. Alexander Isvolsky was undone. If he had hoped that diplomatic protocol would protect his anonymity, he was very disappointed. He blamed Aehrenthal, defaming him in a racist outburst worthy of any anti-Semitic Russian: ‘The dirty Jew has deceived me. He lied to me, he bamboozled me, that frightful Jew.’29 Isvolsky had put his career on the line by giving Russia�
��s consent to the annexation without the knowledge or approval of the czar or his government and tried to blame it on an Austrian Jew.

  Russia had not recovered from her devastating defeat by Japan and, embarrassed by Isvolsky’s agreement and her military weakness, declined to intervene.30 Some historians believe that a European war would have broken out in 1908 had the Russian military been at full strength.31 Instead, the Serbians were deflated. Without the anticipated Russian support, they had no option but to pull back from the brink, but a bitter rage burned in their bellies against their powerful Austro-Hungarian neighbours. Isvolsky counselled Serbia to accept what had happened, with the chilling advice that they should prepare for future action.32 Revenge has always been a dish best served cold. Thanks to Isvolsky’s activities on behalf of his Secret Elite masters, their mission was accomplished. The Balkans had been successfully stirred, and Austria-Hungary emerged as public enemy number one.

  Isvolsky was not working to his own agenda. He could not have seriously believed that the eternal conundrum of a warm-water port for Russia would be solved by his subterfuge. Given the 1878 Treaty of Berlin, there was no possibility that Germany, France, Britain, Italy, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire would grant joint approval for such a radical move. Wars had been fought for far less, and that was a point that Isvolsky must have understood. It did, however, point the way forward. The Secret Elite, the Foreign Office and Sir Edward Grey all knew how important Constantinople was to the Russians. Its gift was not in their hands, but the promise of it was a tantalising carrot they had every intention of dangling before the Russians at the right moment.

  Isvolsky had been sold short at every turn. Mocked in St Petersburg as the Prince of the Bosphorus,33 he faced dismissal and political oblivion, but his patron, King Edward, whose direct influence had raised him to foreign minister, stepped in once more on his behalf. The king wrote personally to his nephew the czar, reiterating his confidence in Isvolsky and his hope that he would remain in office.34 He did, for the moment.

  Undeterred, Isvolsky continued to stir the Balkan pot on behalf of his real masters. In a speech to the Russian Parliament, he advised the Balkan States to federate and encouraged the Greater Serbian policy aimed at the expulsion of Austria from the Balkan Peninsula. In December 1909, a secret military convention was concluded between Russia and the recently independent Bulgaria. Its fifth clause stated: ‘The realisation of the high ideals of the Slav peoples in the Balkan Peninsula, which are so closely at Russia’s heart, is only possible after a fortunate issue in the struggle of Russia with Germany and Austria-Hungary.’35 In other words, war. Victory over Germany and Austro-Hungary was now the key to the realisation of all of their ambitions. The Secret Elite had reached into the very heart of czarist Russia and a touchpaper was set that would later find a murderous spark.

  Isvolsky condemned the Balkans to six tortured years of miserable infighting, but he should not be seen as the real perpetrator. He was simply another foreign representative of the Secret Elite, who financed his lifestyle through their London and Paris banks. In many ways, the first part of his mission had been completed when he successfully demonstrated that war with Germany was the only route that Russia could take to the Straits of Constantinople. The military intent of all three members of the Triple Entente was thus harmonised through Russia’s ambition to gain the Straits, France’s drive to regain Alsace-Lorraine and Britain’s masterplan to throttle Germany. A three-pronged spear was thrust towards the heart of continental Europe.36

  What the Secret Elite had so successfully achieved was startlingly clever. The Balkan countries now had cause to fear that they might be the next target for Austrian annexation, while Russia had yet more proof that she could not act alone in any European intervention. An indebted Isvolsky was even more dependent on the support and financial largess of his London masters. Thanks to King Edward, he rode the storm at home. As far as the Secret Elite were concerned, Isvolsky had performed well. A gaping chasm had developed between Russia and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Prior to 1908, relationships between St Petersburg and Vienna had been good, especially in regard to the Balkans.37 Isvolsky’s action single-handedly turned friendship into complete estrangement.

  SUMMARY: CHAPTER 8 – ALEXANDER ISVOLSKY – HERO AND VILLAIN

  Despite widespread objections from MPs and the public, the Secret Elite pursued their objective to bring Russia into an entente by sending the king to Reval to meet the czar in June 1908 even although it broke with accepted protocol in diplomatic circles.

  King Edward took his Secret Elite advisors, members of the Committee of Imperial Defence, to liaise with Prime Minister Stolypin and Foreign Minister Alexander Isvolsky.

  The result was an agreement, sometimes called the Anglo-Russian convention, that dealt on the surface with issues about Persia, Afghanistan and Tibet but effectively isolated Germany and extended plans to go to war with Germany.

  Isvolsky, who was in the pay of the Secret Elite, plotted with them behind the czar’s back before the meeting and was later credited with concluding in a matter of weeks both the entente and an alliance with Japan.

  Isvolsky’s clandestine meeting with his Austrian counterpart Aehrenthal, which made Russia complicit in the annexation of Bosnia, was managed by the Secret Elite.

  Serbia called on Russian help to go to war against Austria, but the Austrians unmasked Isvolsky’s role in the affair and the Russians had to step back.

  Isvolsky was ridiculed in the Russian press, but his position as foreign secretary was saved through the personal intervention of King Edward.

  Isvolsky continued to stir the Balkan states against Germany and Austria-Hungary. He encouraged a ‘Greater Serbia’ movement based on revenge and advised them to prepare for future action.

  The Secret Elite gained ground on several levels. The Triple Entente was cemented. The Balkans was stirred into a hornet’s nest of nationalist and sectarian suspicion and bitterness. Russia realised that the only route to the Straits was through a successful war against Germany and no longer trusted Austria-Hungary.

  CHAPTER 9

  Scams and Scandals

  THE SECRET ELITE ACHIEVEMENTS IN the first decade of the twentieth century were truly remarkable. They took complete control of South Africa’s immense mineral wealth, British foreign policy and the Committee of Imperial Defence. The crowning glories of British diplomacy, Edward VII’s diplomacy, were the ententes, which brought old enemies France and Russia to Britain’s side. The balance of power between opposing alliances was allegedly meant to guarantee peace. It did no such thing. What the Triple Entente or ‘understanding’ actually entailed was never truthfully explained. Ramsay MacDonald, leader of the Labour Party, later reflected: ‘As a matter of practical experience, the very worst form of alliance is the entente. An alliance is definite. Everyone knows his responsibilities under it. The entente deceives the people.’1 It was for the very purpose of deception that arrangements with both France and Russia were created in the loose fashion of an ‘understanding’.

  Observant Liberals in the Cabinet sensed that the Triple Entente was effectively dragging Britain into the maelstrom of European politics, but no one could mount a serious challenge because Edward Grey reassured them that no formal obligations existed. He repeatedly promised that any decisions on possible military moves would always be left to the full Cabinet. In the strict sense of the term ‘formal obligations’, he was telling the truth. The Secret Elite shrewdly kept pen from paper and persuaded the French and Russians to agree to joint naval and military commitments on the basis of the old adage that an Englishman’s word ‘was his bond’. Edward Grey was thus able to deny they had created an alliance and declare that the Triple Entente had been agreed to secure the peace of Europe. The dirty work of preparing for the destruction of Germany was buried from sight but continued unabated.

  The secret sub-group of the Committee of Imperial Defence had been set up with one purpose in mind: war with Germany.
To ensure that Secret Elite aims were realised, it continually developed and refined plans for joint naval and military action with France and Russia. ‘Secretly the Committee of Imperial Defence carried forward with great earnestness the plans for war, predicted by several “in the know” to begin in 1914.’2 Plans included a naval blockade to deny Germany access to overseas trade and block her import of raw materials vital to war industries.3 By 1907, accredited naval circles believed that Germany would quickly be brought to her knees by restricting her food supplies.4 Sir Charles Ottley, secretary to the CID and director of Naval Intelligence, prophesied that British sea power would slowly grind the German people ‘exceedingly small’ and that ‘grass would sooner grow in the streets of Hamburg’. He confidently prophesised that ‘wide-spread dearth and ruin would be inflicted’ on Germany.5 Ottley was connected to different influences within the circles of the Secret Elite and stood to gain handsomely from a future war. Some might say disgracefully.

  When he first took possession of the War Office, Richard Haldane learned that direct conversations between the English and French naval staffs, conducted on behalf of Britain by Admiral Jacky Fisher, were progressing on a satisfactory basis. What this meant was that progress was satisfactory to Fisher because he was conducting them on behalf of the navy, and he remained in charge. The plans for military cooperation were much less satisfactory because they did not rest in the hands of the War Office. As has already been noted with astonishment, the Times journalist Charles Repington had assumed the role of chief mediator between the British and French military staff in 1905.6 The shocking fact is that the Times correspondent remained in a very privileged position within the War Office in the years leading up to 1914. Questions about Repington’s role were asked in Parliament: