To Arms

by Hew Strachan

  In discounting the fears of revolution, in seeing war as a unifying, not a divisive, agent in Russian society, ministers were also embracing the liberal imperialists’ support for the Entente. Much of the weakness of Durnovo’s case resided not in the arguments themselves, which were not simply perspicacious but also accurate reflections of recent Russian experience, but in his conviction that Russia’s main concerns were Asiatic, that its principal rival was therefore Britain, and that by engaging in a European war against Germany Russia would be fighting as Britain’s proxy. Such arguments were passé in St Petersburg in July 1914. Crucially, they were not ones which the Tsar was prepared to endorse. The naval talks with France and Britain had convinced Sazonov that the Entente was close to becoming a formal alliance. Poincaré’s and Viviani’s visit had brought Franco-Russian relations to a new high. More specifically, there are grounds for believing that during the French visit—despite Vienna’s precautions—the Russians and French did know of Austria-Hungary’s intentions with regard to Serbia. Again the German leak in Rome was the culprit, as the Russians had broken the Italian codes.153 Even without this specific opportunity to concert their responses to the ultimatum, the Franco-Russian alliance was in little danger of fracturing under German pressure in late July. Izvolsky, as Russia’s ambassador in Paris, and Paleologue, his French counterpart in St Petersburg, were firmly committed to the Entente and were not loath to exploit, or even exceed, the powers vouchsafed them.

  Therefore, given that all three Austro-German assumptions about the Russian response proved to be wishful thinking, the conclusions of the Council of Ministers at their meeting on 24 July become less surprising.154 Its chairman, I. L. Goremykin, was a nonentity by comparison with his predecessor V. N. Kokovtsov, who had acted as a restraining influence in both the November 1912 and January 1914 crises. The important voices were those of Sazonov, whose views have already been outlined, A. V. Krivoshein, the minister of agriculture, and the two ministers for the armed forces, V. A. Sukhomlinov for the army and I. K. Grigorovich for the navy. Krivoshein, like Sazonov, was a man of more liberal disposition than many in the council, and recognized the need to co-operate with the Duma in order to achieve some measure of popular participation in government. The key factor for Krivoshein was not just, as it was for many Russians in the wake of the Bosnian crisis, Russia’s status as a great power. It was the relationship between humiliation abroad and the loss of governmental authority at home. In Krivoshein’s hands the fear of revolution, which had constrained Russia since 1905, was no longer a justification for international inaction, but a reason for assertiveness and an answer to the increasing manifestations of workers’ discontent.155 War was not a prospect to be relished, given Russia’s relative backwardness, but a threat sufficiently strong to suggest its use was the only way out of Russia’s dilemma. Neither Sukhomlinov nor Grigorovich was prepared to say that such a policy was mistaken. The rearmament programme of neither the army nor the navy was complete, but both armed forces were in better shape than they had been for a decade. It is easy, and perhaps right, to see Sukhomlinov’s assertion that the army was ready as a braggart’s self-defence, a reluctance to be deemed cowardly. However, the army was no longer so weak that it was unable to support Russia’s foreign policy, as had happened in 1909, and Germany’s fears of its potential were mirrored by the high estimates formed by French and British observers. The council concluded by agreeing to ask Vienna to postpone its deadline by forty-eight hours, by urging Belgrade to be conciliatory, and by giving permission for four military districts, Kiev, Odessa, Moscow, and Kazan, to prepare for mobilization. The Tsar ratified these decisions at a further meeting of the council on 25 July. Thus, from the very outset Russia included a military element in its response to the crisis. On 26 July Russia began to recall its reservists, in a phase preliminary to mobilization itself. On 28 July, in response to Austria-Hungary’s mobilization against Serbia, the four districts already alerted were ordered to mobilize.

  Sazonov saw the steps taken up to 28 July as a buttress to his diplomacy, not as an inevitable progression to war itself. Partial mobilization had not, in November 1912, led to hostilities. The delay between the order for the Russian army’s mobilization and its ability to commence hostilities would be a minimum of fifteen days at the very best, and full Russian mobilization would take nearer a month. Thus, there was ample opportunity for further negotiation. But such calculations were naive. First, the Russian decision preceded the Serb reply to Austria-Hungary: it had the effect of giving Serbia a ‘blank cheque’ of its own, and it generated a pressure for acceleration comparable to that for which Austria-Hungary and Germany were striving from the other side. To be effective in aiding Serbia, and to seize the advantage of operating against the Austrians’ rear while they were embroiled to the south-east, Russia had to mobilize fast. But Germany’s own war plan, aiming first to concentrate against France and then turn against Russia, rested on that very delay in Russian mobilization which the decisions of 24 and 25 July were calculated to eliminate. If the Germans allowed the Russians time to mobilize without themselves doing so, and without actually beginning operations against France, they would risk defeat in the east before they had won in the west.

  Sazonov was sufficiently sensitive to this last consideration to insist on partial, not general, Russian mobilization. In particular, the Council of Ministers’ decision did not include the pivotal military district in Russia’s western defences, whether the enemy was Austria-Hungary or Germany or both—that of Warsaw. The Russian chief of the general staff, Yanushkevitch, was a weak character, both newly appointed and unfamiliar with the details of Russia’s military plans. But Dobrovsky, the head of the mobilization division, immediately objected, and on 26 July received strong support from the quartermaster-general, Yuri Danilov, on his return from manoeuvres in the Caucasus. Danilov was convinced that the main threat to Russia came from Germany, not Austria-Hungary. In any case, from a technical point of view partial mobilization was a nonsense. Active units were stationed in peacetime in the regions from where they drew their reserves, not in their concentration areas, so as to minimize the number of train movements. Thus, each corps area drew on resources and reserves from adjacent districts, and the railway movements which mobilization involved embraced all Russia. Partial mobilization would throw the army into chaos. Operationally, the exclusion of Warsaw meant that Russia would forfeit the opportunity to envelop Austria-Hungary—should that power indeed fight alone—and would fight with unnecessarily limited forces.156 Danilov’s concerns over partial mobilization were shared by the French. Sufficiently aware of the German plan to know that they would be the initial target, the French had been pressing the Russians to increase the speed of their mobilization so that the latter could commence operations in East Prussia within fifteen days and thus provide indirect support in the crucial opening stages of the battle in the west. Neither partial mobilization nor operations against Austria-Hungary would assist the French cause: what the alliance required was a rapid Russian advance on East Prussia—a point which Joseph Joffre, the French chief of the general staff, did not hesitate to make to the Russians on 27 July.

  Thus the step taken on 28 July, to mobilize four districts only, was of a piece with the mobilizations in earlier Balkan crises—it was designed as an instrument of diplomatic utility. Militarily it was unsustainable. The idea that mobilization was not a peaceful act but ‘the most decisive act of war’ had been present in the thought of Russian officers since 1892. In 1912 the European military districts were told to regard mobilization as the opening of hostilities.157 On the morning of 29 July Sazonov responded to military advice and pressed the Tsar into approving general mobilization. The Russian decision for general mobilization therefore preceded any reaction from Germany. Indeed, the developments of that day—the opening of Austrian hostilities against Serbia with the bombardment of Belgrade, and a warning from Bethmann Hollweg that Russian mobilization would force German mobilizatio
n and that for Germany mobilization meant war—although they confirmed Sazonov in his decision, produced an apparent weakening, rather than a strengthening, of Russian resolve. The Tsar, prompted by a cousinly telegram from the Kaiser, reverted to partial mobilization at midnight on 29 July. The Russian general staff was appalled, and by 30 July knew that Germany had begun its military preparations. Sazonov believed that a secret German mobilization was possible; he was also aware of German pressure for preventive action. Therefore he renewed his advocacy of general mobilization. On the afternoon of 30 July the Tsar capitulated. On 31 July Russia began general mobilization. The German ultimatum arrived the same day.

  In retrospect Russian prevarication over the pattern of its mobilization had little effect on the outcome of the July crisis. The crucial decisions, given the nature of Germany’s war plan, were taken on 24 July. Any military preparations by Russia, even if designed to counter Austria-Hungary alone, would have been sufficient to prompt German mobilization. This is obviously true if Germany is seen as an aggressive power, already committed to European war, and certainly not disposed to pass up the opportunity of having its eastern frontier protected by Austrian operations against the Russians and so being freed to concentrate in the west. But it is also applicable in the context of a more reactive interpretation, of Germany’s self-imposed image as the tragic victim: the sense of being in a corner, the preoccupation with time which not only the mobilization timetable but also the political management of the crisis generated, combined with the fear of Russia and the obligation to Austria-Hungary to make Russia’s partial mobilization as intolerable to Germany as general mobilization.

  Bethmann Hollweg was nonetheless slow to realize the gravity of the crisis which confronted him. On 25 July Germany’s ambassador in St Petersburg had reported that Russia was not likely to be held back by fear of domestic disorder. Despite this clear indication that the strategy of a short, sharp Austro-Serbian war would misfire, the German chancellor continued to pursue that objective. His policy up until 28 July was guided, as it had been before the Austrian ultimatum, by the desire to limit and to localize. On 26 July Grey, buoyed up by the apparent success of the conference system in 1913, proposed an international conference, again casting Britain and Germany as the restraining influences within their respective alliance systems. But Germany’s experience of such conferences, after the two Moroccan crises, was—as it had been for its ally—one of humiliation. On 27 July the Germans rejected the British proposal, on the grounds that the affair was Austria-Hungary’s alone. And by the time that Bethmann Hollweg had apprised Austria-Hungary of Britain’s view (which he took pains to point out he did not share)—that the Serb reply was acceptable—Vienna had already rebuffed the Serbs and was preparing for war. From 24 July onwards Grey warned Germany’s ambassador in London that war, if it came, would not be localized. But for Bethmann, politically isolated at home and with his foreign policy apparently bankrupt abroad, the lure of a quick Balkan coup was not yet gainsaid. Sazonov’s policy up until 28 July could be seen as conciliatory; France—with Poincaré and Viviani not returned until 29 July—was in no position to give clear signals; even Grey’s conference proposal betokened a preference for negotiation rather than belligerence. The determination to stick by the policy of 5 and 6 July put blinkers on Bethmann Hollweg and at the same time hardened the reactions of the other participants in the crisis. By the time he was alerted to the certainty of Russian involvement, and to the implications for German policy of Russian mobilization, he had lost the opportunity to manage events. Before 28 July the message from Britain above all, but also from France and Russia, was clear: the local war must be avoided in order to prevent a major war. Bethmann Hollweg did not attempt to avoid a major war until after the local war had been initiated.

  The first indication of a change of tack came on 28 July. Wilhelm had returned from his cruise the preceding day. When he read the Serb reply to the Austrian ultimatum, its moderation convinced him that war was now no longer required; instead, the Austrians should halt in Belgrade and occupy it until terms were agreed. Bethmann Hollweg passed the proposal on to Vienna, but specifically disavowed any wish to hold Austria-Hungary back from the task of achieving its aims in relation to Serbia. Berchtold postponed replying. The messages being received from Berlin were contradictory; only the day before British proposals of mediation had been passed on without German endorsement, and by the night of 28/9 July Berchtold might reasonably argue that Austria’s dwindling prestige in the Balkans would not survive any retraction from the military solution now under way. Speed and decisiveness were still Berchtold’s objectives, as they had hitherto been those of Bethmann Hollweg.

  On 29 July the alteration in Bethmann’s approach became more evident. Grey must be held responsible for completing the change. Fritz Fischer, Imanuel Geiss, and others have seen Germany’s policy in July as the denouement and continuation of its previous foreign policy.158 Both Fischer and Geiss contend that the German chancellor accepted the possibility of a European war from the outset of the crisis but hoped that Britain would remain neutral. Therefore, for them, the Anglo-German naval negotiations of 1912 had had as their objective not détente per se, but the neutralization of Britain in the event of war. Undeniably Bethmann Hollweg worked for the maintenance of Anglo-German diplomatic links during July. But this, rather than evidence of continuity, is yet again an indication of Bethmann’s wishful thinking and self-delusion in the three weeks up until 28 July. Over the previous decade the German general staff had entertained little doubt that, in the event of war in the west, the British would stand by the French. Clear statements to that effect had been made to Germany by Haldane in 1911 and by Grey in 1912: the implications were there in the Anglo-French staff talks and in Lloyd George’s Mansion House speech. Bethmann had not shared the Anglophobia of Tirpitz, but the British naval talks with the Russians had convinced him of the rightness of the assumption that Britain would not be neutral in the event of a European war. Bethmann’s hopes for Britain in July 1914 were therefore a reflection of his desire for a localized war. Obviously, if the local war became a general war it would serve Germany’s interests if Britain espoused neutrality, but Bethmann Hollweg appreciated that in reality such an outcome was improbable. Where realism failed Bethmann was in his slowness to interpret Grey’s warnings that an Austro-Serb war could not be localized as evidence that Britain would not long sustain the position of international arbitrator. On the afternoon of 29 July Grey made clear to the German ambassador that Britain would not remain neutral in the event of a continental war. Talk of mediation had given way to an explicit threat. Bethmann Hollweg’s despair arose from the final realization that the policy of localization had failed.

  By 30 July, therefore, the change in the chancellor’s policy was complete. At 2.55 in the morning he dispatched an urgent telegram to the German ambassador in Vienna, calling on the Austrians to attempt mediation on the basis of ‘the halt in Belgrade’. Faced with the immediate prospect of European war, neither the Kaiser nor Bethmann Hollweg wanted it.

  The Austrian reaction was, predictably, one of confusion and frustration. The withdrawal of German support, feared and anticipated from the outset, had now come to pass. However, hostilities with Serbia had already commenced. The advice of Conrad von Hötzendorff from the beginning was that war could not be fought with limited means and limited objectives: given the size of the Serb army by 1914, Austria-Hungary would have to undergo a general mobilization to commence hostilities. A quick coup de main against Belgrade was therefore impossible, as well as being inappropriate. When Austria-Hungary’s ministers discussed Bethmann’s proposal on 31 July they could only endorse on political grounds the position adopted by Conrad on military: the last London conference was described as ‘a frightful memory’, and it made little sense for Vienna now to desist without a guarantee from Russia.159

  The desire in Austria-Hungary to settle the Serb problem once and for all was supported by the attitud
e of Moltke. By 30/1 July the pressure from Berlin for swift Austrian action had not diminished; it simply came from a different quarter. Although Jagow had indicated to the Russians that partial mobilization would not trigger German mobilization, Moltke was of a different view. If the Austro-Hungarian army was fully committed to the war with Serbia, it would be unable to take an active role in operations against Russia, and yet this was the premiss upon which the German war plan rested. Unless a reasonable proportion of Franz Joseph’s army tied down comparable Russian forces, Germany would not be able to deal with the dangers of a two-front war by concentrating the bulk of its divisions first against France. Time therefore pressed on Moltke in two ways. First, he could not afford to let the German mobilization fall behind that of Russia. But secondly, and more immediately, he could not allow the general war to follow so long after the outset of Austro-Serb hostilities that the Habsburg army could not concentrate against Russia rather than Serbia. Thus, on the afternoon of 30 July Moltke bypassed Bethmann Hollweg and urged Conrad to mobilize against Russia, not Serbia, and assured him that Germany would follow suit. Berchtold’s response to Moltke’s intervention was to ask, rhetorically, who ruled in Berlin: Moltke’s message in itself did little more than confirm to Vienna the wisdom of its own continuing resolve.

  The pressure Moltke put on Vienna, although seemingly fraught in its implications for civil-military relations, was no more than a response—and a somewhat belated one at that—to the circumstances in which Germany now found itself. German military intelligence had picked up an exchange of signals between Russia and France concerning mobilization on 24 and 25 July, but as late as 26 July was still anticipating a crisis that would carry on for several weeks.160 Not until Falkenhayn’s return to work on the 27th had the army’s somewhat dilatory approach been challenged. Falkenhayn was appalled by the lack of resolution displayed by both the Kaiser and by Moltke. He was clear that the responsibility for policy was Bethmann Hollweg’s, but argued that the chancellor’s obligation to put to one side military advice for political reasons no longer held good when ‘a crucial military interest was at stake’. On 29 July Falkenhayn felt that that point had been reached. He called for the declaration, Zustandes drohender Kriegsgefahr, the preliminary steps to mobilization. Moltke, aware that for Germany mobilization meant war, and fearful of its implications for Europe as a whole, would not endorse the minister of war’s request, and Bethmann Hollweg took his cue from the chief of the general staff.161 The chancellor emphasized his wish to leave the initiation of hostilities to Russia. But at the same time his acknowledgement that, if European war came it would include a German attack on Belgium and France, was contained in his request for British neutrality in exchange for German respect for Belgian and French territorial integrity, and confirmed by the preparation of an ultimatum to Belgium demanding its acceptance of the transit of German troops through its territory: the former in particular was a diplomatic gaffe that made the possibility of restraint yet more remote, but which reflected the pressure that Bethmann Hollweg was now under from the army. On 30 July Moltke’s respect for Bethmann’s wish to await the Russian response had—as his message to Conrad testified—evaporated. That evening he got the chancellor to agree that a decision on general mobilization would be made by noon on 31 July. Moltke was quite clear that the Tsar’s equivocation over general or partial mobilization could make no difference to the German decision. Five minutes before their self-imposed deadline, Moltke and Bethmann Hollweg heard that the Russians had finally decided on general mobilization. Germany issued the declaration of Kriegsgefahr that day, and ordered general mobilization on 1 August. Ultimatums were dispatched to St Petersburg and Paris on the night of 31 July; on the following morning Germany declared war on Russia.