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

by Gerry Docherty

  Historians have described the visit of President Poincaré and Prime Minister Vivani to St Petersburg from 20 to 23 July 1914 as a ceremonial state occasion of no particular consequence.3 If that was so, why did they not wait until after the international crisis had settled before embarking for Russia? The entire French diplomatic service was aware of the implications that a war between Austria and Serbia would have for France. They knew that an Austrian declaration against Serbia would draw an equal response from Russia; that if Russia took arms against Austria, Germany would be obliged by her alliance to become involved. More pertinently for the French, if Russia went to war, they were bound by treaty to join her. They knew that a crisis of unprecedented severity was at hand. Yet we are asked to believe that this goodwill exchange had no particular purpose. Poincaré and Vivani could have easily delayed in Paris until the crisis had passed. They did not. They chose to go to St Petersburg and boarded the warship La France at Dunkirk on 15 July. After five days at sea, Sazonov, Isvolsky and Paléologue (the French ambassador at St Petersburg) warmly welcomed them to Russia.4 This was no innocent state visit. Nor was its timing a matter of chance.

  Poincaré’s very presence in St Petersburg was ominous. If he had sought a peaceful resolution to the Austro-Serbian crisis, a letter to the czar would have been sufficient. Had Poincaré warned the Russians that France would not go to war over Serbia, that would have been the end of the matter. Nicholas II would never have had the confidence to act alone. Poincaré stiffened his resolve.5 Every action taken by Poincaré resonated with the Secret Elite agenda. On his arrival, he boarded the czar’s yacht, Alexandria, and immediately went into deep and private conversation with him.6

  There was an air of pronounced irony in Poincaré’s toast to the czar at the state dinner in which he suggested that France would pursue ‘in intimate and daily collaboration, the work for peace and civilisation for which both governments strove daily’.7 Was he unaware of the Cossacks in the streets, the assaults on women and children, trams overturned and wrecked in riots that went on overnight? Civilisation had rarely been worse served. The Times correspondent in St Petersburg wrote: ‘Thanks to the admirable arrangements, the unruly elements were successfully kept off the main thoroughfares during President Poincaré’s visit, which passed off without a hitch.’8 The unruly elements were removed from view, cruelly beaten and even killed, but to the privileged Times readership these victims of poverty and oppression were mere flotsam and jetsam: the incidentals of history.

  Poincaré held court in St Petersburg. Reports of his private conversations with the czar were carried in the press, but no word was written about the substance of their discussions.9 Indeed, French diplomatic telegrams were altered and suppressed after the war, to conceal the true nature of Poincaré’s visit.10 He met in the Winter Palace with many of the foreign ambassadors to Russia. His discussion with the Japanese ambassador prepared the way for Japan’s intervention later on the side of the entente. He assured Sir George Buchanan that the czar was very conciliatory about Persia. Doubtless the oil purchase had rattled a few Russian samovars. When it came to his formal introduction to the Austrian ambassador, Poincaré talked about his French ancestors but spoke not a word about the tension over Serbia.11 The president of France was on a mission, as he had been in 1912. How strange that in both years that a European war was seriously possible (1912 and 1914), Poincaré made a state visit to Russia. This was no coincidence. The purpose of Poincaré’s visit was to reassure the czar and Sazonov that France would stand beside them, and to encourage them to begin military preparations immediately for war with Germany. Every Russian at court in St Petersburg knew that the enemy was Germany and that war would be the outcome. Paléologue wrote in his account of ostentatious banquets how the Grand Duchesses Anastasia and Melitza, the respective wives of Grand Duke Nicholas and Grand Duke Peter, were ecstatic at the prospect that ‘War is going to break out. Nothing will be left of Austria. You will get Alsace-Lorraine back. Our armies will meet in Berlin. Germany will be annihilated.’12 Clearly, it consumed their thoughts with joyous anticipation. In fact, as elsewhere in Europe, the ruling classes saw war as the solution to civil unrest, unemployment and loose talk of revolution. Poincaré had a willing audience. The Russian military hailed him enthusiastically. They too were convinced that war was ‘inevitable’. Poincaré’s endorsement was precisely what they wanted to hear.13

  Buchanan sent a telegram to the Foreign Office in London on 24 July, summarising Poincaré’s visit: ‘The French ambassador gave me to understand that France would not only give Russia strong diplomatic support, but would, if necessary, fulfil all the obligations imposed on her by the alliance.’14 Poincaré and Sazonov had agreed the deal. When Russia went to war against Germany and Austria, France would fulfil her commitment to Russia. This telegram explicitly proved that by 24 July Sir Edward Grey knew that his world war was ordained. The document was concealed from the world for ten years. As Isvolsky’s biographer, Stieve, concluded: ‘The blank cheque for world war, signed first by Poincaré in 1912, was now signed again.’15 It was no more and no less than that. While historians have focused on the mythical notion of Germany’s blank cheque to Austria given at Potsdam, the real cheque for war – which would be endorsed by Britain – was that which Poincaré signed in St Petersburg.

  In the Foreign Office, Buchanan’s telegram was subjected to minute scrutiny, and the private notes attached to it demonstrated the inner convolutions of Secret Elite thinking.16 Sir Eyre Crowe’s surgical analysis cut to the heart of the matter. Whatever the merits of the Austrian case against Serbia, he believed it would be ‘impolitic’ to interfere in St Petersburg or Paris, ‘dangerous’, even. Dangerous? As in, any intervention from Britain might stop them starting a war?

  Put all of this into perspective. Austria had suffered assassination, humiliation and taunts from Serbia, but that didn’t count. Russia and France had agreed that they would stand together and go to war, which seemed perfectly reasonable to Sir Eyre Crowe, so Britain should simply let that happen. He phrased his diplomatic comments in the following way: ‘The point that matters is whether Germany is or is not absolutely determined to have this war now.’17 His twisted logic flew in the face of what he already knew. It was not Germany that was determined to ‘have this war now’; it was the Secret Elite. Years of careful and intricate planning would come to nought if, once again, Germany refused to be drawn in – just as she had done in 1912 and 1913. Crowe’s reasoning contained an awesome revelation:

  Our interests are tied up with those of France and Russia in this struggle, which is not for the possession of Serbia, but one between Germany aiming at a political dictatorship in Europe, and the Powers who desire to retain individual freedom.18

  Ask yourself this question: what were the coincident interests between Britain and Russia? Shared ambition that could only come to blows in Persia? No, it was war with Germany. Would Britain ever have seriously contemplated giving Russia possession of the Straits? No. Was Russia a land of individual freedoms? No. The very notion of the czarist empire being associated with freedoms was ludicrous. Not one single Jewish Member of the British Parliament was free to travel into Russia.19 This twisted, illogical bias was nothing more than the bile of Secret Elite philosophy. Crowe ended his minute with a recommendation that the fleet be mobilised as soon as any of the Great Powers made their first step to war, but Edward Grey had previously checked that point with Winston Churchill. The fleet was ready and waiting for the coming storm.

  Feelings in Britain were running high about Ireland, not about Russia, Austria or Serbia. Nor was there any sense of concern about Germany. Lloyd George had, during a finance bill debate on 23 July, praised the improving relations between Germany and Britain. He looked forward with confidence to a time when the lunacy of international arms spending might reduce the ridiculous tax burden on the British nation:

  Take a neighbour of ours. [He meant Germany.] Our relations are very much better tha
n they were a few years ago. There is none of that snarling which we used to see, more especially in the Press, of those two great, I will not say rival nations, but two great Empires.20

  On the very day that Austria’s Note was presented to the Serbian government, the British chancellor of the Exchequer publicly praised Germany with a speech that hinted at better times ahead. Little wonder the Germans were confused. Little wonder Sazonov immediately required reassurance of Britain’s real intentions.

  In contrast to the deceptions and secret memorandums that hid the real aims of Lloyd George and his trusted accomplices, German politicians had been trying to keep the Austrian response in context. Secretary of State Gottlieb von Jagow suggested in the North German Gazette of 19 July that a ‘localised war’ was sufficient and appropriate.21 It was straightforward: leave Austria and Serbia to fight it out between them.

  There were historical precedents that justified such thinking, including Britain’s own war with the Transvaal, and the United States in her fight against Spain in 1898.22 Russia and France, however, had no intention of holding the proverbial jackets while Austria sorted ‘poor’ Serbia. A localised Austro-Serbian affair was never an option for the Secret Elite. The whole point was to draw Germany into war.

  Bethmann, the German chancellor, remained quietly assured that all proper protocols were being followed, though he was concerned at the slow pace of Austrian decision making. He sent instructions to the German ambassadors in St Petersburg, London and Paris to stress that Austria had every just cause to punish Serbia.23 He stated that unless Austria was willing to ‘dispense for ever its standing as a Great Power’, it had to enforce its demands. Bethmann was confident that in the aftermath of Archduke Ferdinand’s assassination, the czar would understand the need for the monarchs of Europe to stand together against a political radicalism that sought to put an end to emperors and czars, kings and queens and all the trappings of monarchy.24

  Austria presented the Note to Serbia once Poincaré and the French delegation had departed St Petersburg on 23 July. The delay was futile. The French and Russians had already made their fateful, but still secret, tryst and Sazonov’s commitment to protect Serbia was absolute. All had been determined long before the Austrian demands became public.25 Berchtold insisted that the Note was non-negotiable: ‘We cannot enter into negotiations with Serbia with regard to our demands, and cannot be satisfied with anything less than their unconditional acceptance within the stated terms; otherwise we should be obliged to draw further consequences.’26

  Baron von Gieslingen, the Austro-Hungarian minister at Belgrade, handed the Note to the Serbian government at 6 p.m. on Thursday, 23 July. It comprised ten demands that had been leaked over the preceding weeks and, as far as Berchtold was aware, had caused little obvious anxiety. Basically, the Serbs were instructed to stop anti-Austrian publications, dissolve the secret society Narodna Odbrana, put an end to the teaching of anti-Austrian propaganda in schools and sack all civil servants and military personnel who were openly anti-Austrian. The Note insisted that Austro-Hungarian police be permitted to cooperate with the Serbs and take part in a judicial inquiry into the conspiracy that had led to the assassination in Sarajevo. Known conspirators – and here the Note correctly named Tankosić and Ciganovic – had to be placed under arrest, as had those who flagrantly assisted the assassins by smuggling arms and explosives over the border into Bosnia. They wanted to know why high-ranking Serbian officials had continued to verbally assault Austro-Hungary even after the outrage. Finally, a 48-hour deadline was set for an unequivocal acceptance of every point. Virtually every demand was already known to the Secret Elite agents, including the timescale for a reply.

  Berchtold and his advisors were totally unprepared for what happened next. Despite all of the international support and encouragement that they had been given over the preceding weeks, what followed was an orchestrated overreaction from Russia, France and Britain, whose well-coordinated pretence at outrage was completely at odds with previous sentiments. Those who had encouraged strong Austrian action now declared that, rather than aiming for justice from Serbia, Austria was abusing the situation as a pretext to provoke a war. The argument turned in a most bizarre way. Austria was accused of having presented ‘no evidence’ of the Serbian complicity, and they insisted that ‘more time’ ought to be given for the Serbian Reply.27 It was a sham, a blatant attempt to gain additional time for the Russian and French military preparations.28 Austria remained unmoved and insisted on a Reply within 48 hours.

  On 24 July, Austro-Hungarian ambassadors were subject to verbal abuse when they presented their demands of Serbia to the entente governments. In St Petersburg, Sazonov exploded at the Austrian ambassador, constantly interrupting his attempt to explain the Note. ‘I know what you want. You want to go to war with Serbia … you are setting fire to Europe.’29 Point by point, Sazonov challenged and rejected every part of the Austrian Note. How dare the Austrian government demand the dissolution of Narodna Odbrana? Why were they insisting that Austrian police officers be involved in the investigations?30 His lack of perspective made nonsense of this unprofessional tantrum, but since he already had detailed knowledge of the demands, it was a sham.

  Sir Edward Grey met with Count Mensdorff, the Austrian ambassador to Britain, at Downing Street on the morning of 24 July. Given that he was not known to rush to judgement, Grey’s immediate pronouncement that the Note was ‘the most formidable document that has ever been addressed from one state to another’31 was ridiculous. When Mensdorff tried to explain the merits of the case, Grey rejected the arguments as ‘not our concern’. He could hardly have been more dismissive. This too was a sham. It was different in Paris. With all the senior ministers who might have dealt with the Austrian explanation literally at sea, the Note was handed to the minister of justice, whose moderate and unemotional reaction was in complete contrast to the paroxysms elsewhere. No one had thought to give him sight of the entente’s official script. With near indecent haste, Paul Cambon, the French ambassador at London, was ordered back to France to hold the fort at Quai D’Orsay.

  While the entente foreign ministers orchestrated as close to a perfect storm of indignation as they could muster, several British newspapers considered the Austrian demands to be perfectly justified. The Manchester Guardian, the Daily News and the Daily Chronicle all voiced a reasoned understanding of the Austrian position. Of the conservative newspapers, the Daily Telegraph was the most impartial. It supported the Austrians in ‘demanding full and prompt repudiation of all those nefarious schemes which have politics as their excuse and murder as their handmaid’.32 The Manchester Guardian deeply regretted that Russia was prepared to threaten ‘extreme measures’ if strong Austrian action was forced upon Serbia. As its editorial explained, Austria had a good reason to be overbearing towards Serbia, but ‘Russia’s threat of war is a piece of sheer brutality, not disguised by her sudden discovery of the sacredness of the balance of power in Europe’.33 It was a sarcastic but justified rebuff to the Russian presumption of interest in Serbian affairs. Predictably, The Times was batting for the other side. An editorial, published two days before the Note was handed over, under the heading, ‘A Danger to Europe’, supported the Russians and cast doubt on Austrian intentions to localise the war.34 As ever, the voice of the Secret Elite was a step ahead.

  Asquith decried the Austrian Note as ‘bullying and humiliating’,35 but in private he confided to his secret love, Venetia Stanley, that: ‘the curious thing is that on many, if not most of the points, Austria has a good and Serbia a very bad case … but the Austrians are quite the stupidest people in Europe’.36 He knew that Grey had greatly exaggerated his reaction to the Austrian demands but could never say so in public. Indeed not. Their public stance, their pretence of outrage, represented a prepared position that aligned the Foreign Office with the outbursts from Sazonov in Russia and Poincaré once back on French soil. By undermining Austria-Hungary they were simultaneously undermining the one nation t
hat would stand with her: Germany.

  Members of Asquith’s Cabinet knew only what they read in the newspapers. With the singular exception of the notorious five,37 they were ignorant of the entente connivance in the Austria–Serbia dispute. Cabinet met on the afternoon of 24 July and discussed shootings in Dublin and the shipping of German guns to the Irish Volunteers at great length, and then, almost as an aside, the rapidly deteriorating Serbian crisis was raised. According to Winston Churchill, the discussion on Ireland had reached its inconclusive end and the Cabinet was about to separate when Sir Edward Grey produced the Austrian Note, which he claimed had just been brought to him from the Foreign Office. The message they wanted Cabinet members to believe was that this was ‘an ultimatum such as had never been penned in modern times’.38

  Charles Hobhouse, the postmaster-general in Asquith’s 1914 Cabinet, wrote in his diary:

  Grey broke in to say that the Ultimatum by Austria to Serbia had brought us nearer to a European Armageddon than we had been through all the Balkan troubles. He had suggested that Germany, France, Italy and the UK should jointly press Austria and Russia to abstain from action, but he was certain that if Russia attacked Austria, Germany was bound to come to the latter’s help.39

  If Churchill’s recall was correct, Grey must have staged the delivery for dramatic effect. We know that the Note had not ‘just been brought’ to Grey that afternoon but was handed to him in Downing Street that morning, when he had ranted at Count Mensdorff.40 That apart, look how the Foreign Office had twisted the Note into an ‘Ultimatum’. Hobhouse even gave the word a capital letter. Notice too how in Hobhouse’s version it was not Germany that was at fault. The key to war or peace was Russia: ‘If Russia attacked Austria, Germany was bound to come in.’ That would be the same Russia just given a blank cheque by Poincaré. The same Russia with which, Sir Eyre Crowe had advised, it would be ‘impolitic’ and ‘dangerous’ to interfere.