Briey (3) Comite des Forges; Rule of the Iron Masters

The Comite des Forges represented a powerful group of iron and steel producers whose links with the French government were so dominant that the two were often as one. Imitating the American business practice by which major manufacturing heavy industry companies acted together in monopolistic collusion, the Comite des Forges harmonised its prices and liaised with other international iron and steel groups which completely dominated the world market. The Comite was the epitome of capitalist power structure in France. [1] It bound together individual iron and steel companies by strict agreements on quotas and prices. These ranged from large conglomerates like the Comptoir Siderurgique de France to smaller units like the Comptoir des Rails.

The Comite neither sold nor produced products. It acted in a far more subtle manner, retaining political, strategic and economic influence by means of elected politicians and well financed propaganda. The Comite des Forges had no subsidiaries, though its members paid annual dues to the central treasury based on the size of their output and number of employees. Under the leadership of the President of the Comite this power-bloc controlled all of the major iron and steelworks in France through regional committees in Loire, Nord, l’Est, Miniere d’Alscace-Lorraine, Forges de Lorraine and Champagne. It controlled regional and national press. It influenced the French Foreign Office at the Quai d’Orsay and many top level national politicians emerged from these roots in later years. [2]

Its first President was Eugene Schneider, a director of the Creusot Company, Depute for Saone-et-Loire and at one point, Minister of Agriculture and Commerce. He grew rich on the monopoly gained from the French government to supply armaments and railway construction material. [3] The French navy purchased its armour plate from Schneider Creusot which became a market leader in naval artillery. [4] Eugene Schneider was also a director of the Credit-Lyonnais and a founder of Banque de L’Union Parisienne. A mutually supportive blueprint for success emerged from the turn of the century where arms firms, government ministers and banks collaborated at the highest level to win foreign orders and maximise profits. [5]

Before the war began, the Comite des Forges appointed Francois de Wendel as its president, the man dubbed by the socialist leader Joseph Caillaux as ‘the symbol of the plutocracy’. He embodied every aspect of the industrial elite in France. Elected Deputy to the National Assembly, acknowledged as a maitre de forges (iron master) from a dynastic line of iron and steel producers, Wendel became a Regent of the Banque of France and worked closely in conjunction with his great ally, Edouard de Rothschild. [6] Coming from a family which suffered the embarrassment of being torn in two when Lorraine was ceded to Germany in 1871, Francois was deeply anti-German and a strong supporter of Raymond Poincare and his Revanchist party.

His father, Henri Wendel remained behind in the annexed section of Lorraine as a subject of the new German Empire in order to keep control of the family’s extensive industrial interests there. Indeed he quickly reoriented his political loyalties and was elected to the Reichstag as a Representative for Lorraine from 1881-1890. In like vein his cousin Charles sat in the Reichstag from 1907-1911. Thus the Wendel family retained both its political and economic interests on both sides of the border, with Francois in the French National Assembly and his father and cousin in the Reichstag. Together they owned the mines and factories, the plants and smelters in Briey and Thionville.

The Wendels completely controlled French iron and steel supplies. With the Germans allowed unchallenged ownership of the Briey basin in August 1914, there was precious little left for the French iron and steel industry. Although the Comite des Forges was permitted to import 19,0000 tons of metal from Britain each month, nothing happened for seven months. At which point a tried and tested method was itself imported into the system. Just as the British appointed J.P. Morgan as their sole agent for all purchases from the United States, so the French government decided to approve a single agent to purchase the importation of iron and steel; it was Francois de Wendel’s brother,  Hubert. The French military attaché in London responsible for overseeing the purchasing agent was de Wendel’s brother in law, General de la Penouze. It only got worse. In the ministry of munitions in Paris, responsibility for checking these vital imports rested with a director of the Comite des Forges’s bank [7] who was given the rank of captain and raised to the position of general secretary of the Commission of Woods and Metals. [8] When accusations were made of speculation and profiteering in the iron and steel industries towards the end of 1915, they were referred to the Committee of Markets at the Chamber of Deputies and duly investigated by its most experienced member, Francois de Wendel. Three years later the Chamber of Deputies was still waiting on the report. [9]

Can there be any wonder why both during the war and at the end of that terrible conflict the Wendels were accused of using their immense power to protect their vast mineral assets at Briey and Thionville? The mineral rich Briey basin extending to the left bank of the Moselle around Thionville was the Wendel’s personal fiefdom. They owned it, they ran the great mines and factories, they represented the people both in the French Assembly and the German Reichstag, they patronised the Catholic Church and owned the local newspapers. From 1906, Francois Wendel subsidised L’Echo de Lorraine and the family controlled Le Journal de Debats, a loss-making political journal which was sent free to every teacher in Wendel’s electoral district. [10]

When in 1919 bitter accusations were raised against him in the French National Assembly, and in particular the charge that he had blocked the destruction of the Briey steelworks, Francoise Wendel haughtily dismissed them. He cited a list of generals who claimed either not to have had the technology capable of such long-ranged destruction, or who considered the target inappropriate as a military objective. [11] Accusations that the Comite des Forges had paid a pliant journalist to write an article in Le Temps in 1916 were rejected on the basis that according to Francoise Wendel, President of the Comite itself, it did not have a publicity fund. This was truly an outrageous claim since the Comite controlled whole swathes of the press. The story written by Max Hoschiller suggested that the destruction of the Briey complex would not substantially weaken Germany, a ridiculous claim that flew in the face of every other assessment. [12]

Unsurprisingly, the Regent of the Banque de France, President of the Comite des Forges, Deputy of the National Assembly and international associate of the global munitions family, a friend and colleague of the Paris Rothschilds and long term supporter of President Poincare survived these attacks relatively unscathed. The verdict of supportive historians was that ‘none of these claims about a Wendelian conspiracy were ever substantiated or corroborated’. [13] The reader must make her /his own decision as to what can be defined as corroboration when key documents are missing or destroyed and the wealth of the Wendel family is given a higher priority than the lives it cost. But such a focus on one family, one example, no matter how pertinent, could deflect the spotlight away from a greater influence.

[1] Jean Noel Jeanneney, Francois de Wendel en Republique, L’Argent et le Pouvoir, Revuie Historique, T. 257, Fasc. 2 (522) Avril-Juin 1977, pp.495-498.
[2] Congressional Record for March 6 and 12, 1934, Text of the Nye Resolution to Investigate America’s Armament Makers, United States Government Printing Office Washington : 1934; 52620 – 10175. Article from Fortune Magazine, 22 May 1934, A Primer on Europe’s Armament Makers who prolong War and disturb Peace.
[3] Carroll Quigley, Tragedy and Hope, p. 518.
[4] David Stevenson, Armaments and the Coming of War: Europe, 1904-1914, p. 29.
[5] Ibid., p.30.
[6] Michael J. Rust, The Journal of Economic History, Vol. 37, issue 2, June 1977, p. 531.
[7] The Demanchy Bank was controlled by the Comite des Forges.
[8] Clarence K. Streit, Where Iron Is, There Is The Fatherland, pp. 24-25.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Harold James, Family Capitalism, p. 185.
[11] Ibid., p.186.
[12] Streit, Where Iron Is, There Is The Fatherland,  pp. 29-32.
[13] James, Family Capitalism, p. 187.

Sir Edward Grey (2) Deceiving The Kaiser

Sir Edward Grey’s strategy from 25 July onwards was to make it appear that he sought answers to intractable problems by offering plausible solutions, and to urge the Germans in particular to cling to the hope that peace was still possible. Grey knew precisely what had been arranged by and through Poincaré’s visit to Russia. Sazonov and the Russian military had begun mobilisation. His prime objective was to gain time for the Russians by delaying Germany’s defensive response. He achieved this by presenting Britain as an ‘honest broker’ for peace. Sir George Buchanan in St Petersburg ensured that Grey was kept fully informed, thus allowing him to don the mantle of peace-maker to Russia’s advantage. British neutrality sat at the epicentre of this charade like a prize exhibit at an auction. Sazonov desperately wanted Grey to openly commit to the entente, but to no avail. [1] The Germans repeatedly sought clarification about ‘England’s’ intentions, but Grey held to the official line. Britain was not bound by any obligation to enter into war. He had told this lie so often he might even have started to believe it.

Over that weekend of 25–26 July, while the Russians secretly began their mobilisation, the British political leaders left town for their country pastures.

The German ambassador, Prince Lichnowsky, arrived unannounced at the Foreign Office with an urgent message from Chancellor Bethmann, imploring Sir Edward Grey to use his influence at St Petersburg against any form of mobilisation. No one was available to see him, and Lichnowsky had to postpone his appeal until Monday. [2] It was an old trick and such a simple deception. By being allegedly out of touch for the weekend, formal diplomacy was put on hold and the Russians were gifted two more valuable days for unrestricted mobilisation. Grey’s convenient absence stalled Lichnowsky but did not in any way hinder the Foreign Office from repeatedly making diplomatic moves aimed at buying more time for Russia’s military preparations. An offer of British mediation was immediately accepted by Germany but rejected by Sazonov and Poincaré. [3] Grey then proposed that the ambassadors of Italy, Germany and France should meet with him in London to find a peaceful solution to the diplomatic conflict. [4] This offer was made in the full knowledge that Italy had long planned to betray her commitment to the Triple Alliance.

Germany and Austria were themselves aware that it was very unlikely that the Italians would support them. Bethmann believed that ‘the ill-will of Italy appeared almost a certainty’. [5] As matters stood, Germany knew she would find herself isolated at the conference and that the vote count was bound to be three to one in favour of Russia’s view. A further stumbling block was the insistence that Austria accepted the Serbian Reply as a basis for negotiation. [6] No specific condition was placed on any other nation, and Russia remained free to continue her ‘preparatory measures’ for mobilisation. [7] In truth, the conference was proposed not as a means to find a settlement but to give the massive Russian military machine time to move its armies up to the German frontier.

Germany advocated the eminently more sensible proposition that direct negotiations between Vienna and St Petersburg offered the best chance of peace. Grey agreed, but Sazonov did not. Knowing full well that Austria had just declared the Serbian Reply unacceptable, Sazonov said he considered it satisfactory and the basis for talks on which Russia ‘willingly held out her hand’ to Austria. [8] This was yet another of the ‘peace proposals’ that Grey, Sazonov and Poincaré knew could never be acceptable. Forewarned that any peace proposal emanating from Grey was a ruse, Poincaré and Sazonov knew how they were expected to respond. When Grey suggested a solution and Germany accepted, Poincaré or Sazonov would say no. Likewise, if Germany proposed a peace move, Grey would accept and be seen as the man of moderation, but either Poincaré or Sazonov would then reject it. War was the object, not peace.

During that same weekend of 25–26 July, with the British Cabinet absent from London, Sir Arthur Nicolson in the Foreign Office kept his finger on the beating pulse of the European crisis. Across at the Admiralty, another secret decision drew war ever closer. At four on the Sunday afternoon, the first sea lord, Prince Louis of Battenberg sent, with Churchill’s prior approval, an order to the fleet to remain concentrated at Spithead. Quietly and unassumingly, the fleet was mobilised. Note the coincidence: both the first lord of the Admiralty and the foreign secretary were absent from their posts, yet key departmental decisions were taken that deliberately brought war ever closer. As far as the public were concerned, nothing untoward was happening. It was just another summer weekend.

Diplomatic proposals and counter-proposals criss-crossed Europe over the next five days as a variety of options for mediation, negotiation or direct interventions emanated from London, Berlin, Vienna and St Petersburg. Some were genuine; some were intended to deceive. Grey’s suggestions were consistent in that they always supported the Russian position and never at any time sought to question or constrain Sazonov. More ominously, the Foreign Office began to insist that German preparations for war were much more advanced than those of France or Russia. [9] No evidence from the British archives has ever been presented to justify this allegation. [10] Britain had thousands of representatives, businessmen, bankers, tradesmen and tourists in Germany during those crucial weeks. Military and naval attachés, consuls in all the larger cities and, of course, senior diplomats in Berlin all served to represent the interests of the British Crown.

No one filed an official report warning of German preparations for war. The major newspapers had foreign correspondents in Germany. They observed nothing untoward. Not just that. No other diplomatic mission shared Grey’s unwarranted view. [11] The anti-German cabal of Grey, Nicolson and Crowe created yet another myth.

On the evening of 28 July, the German Chancellor, Bethmann, sent a telegraph to Vienna putting pressure on Berchtold to negotiate and immediately notified Britain and Russia that he had done so. Germany was cooperating to maintain the peace. Bethmann did all he could to persuade Berchtold to hold frank and friendly discussions with St Petersburg. He informed the British ambassador that ‘a war between the Great Powers must be avoided’. [12] Bethmann was determined to make Austria reconsider the consequences of events that were unfolding, but by the following morning he had received no response from Berchtold. All that day he waited in vain for an answer. Berchtold’s silence was unnerving. More and more reports were relayed to Berlin confirming Russian mobilisation.

Helmuth von Moltke, German Chief of Staff, was able to report that France was also taking preparatory measures for mobilisation: ‘it appears that Russia and France are moving hand in hand as regards their preparations’. [13] There was much cause for concern in Berlin. The German military authorities demanded precautionary defensive measures. That evening, Bethmann indignantly fired off another three telegrams to Berchtold, adamant that there was a basis for negotiations. [14] His subtext was that Germany’s promised support would be cancelled.

The German ambassador in London telegraphed Berlin on the 29th to say that the British believed that a world war was inevitable unless the Austrians negotiated their position over Serbia. Lichnowsky begged Sir Edward Grey to do all he could to prevent a Russian mobilisation on Germany’s borders. The consequences would be ‘beyond conception’. [15] Grey promised to use his influence and keep Sazonov as ‘cool-headed as possible ’. [16] He did not. Far from trying to calm Sazonov, Grey made no attempt at intervention. Instead, he met again with Lichnowsky that evening and sowed the seeds of confusion that deliberately included conditions and suppositions that mixed hope with dire warnings. [17]

Grey wrote four dispatches on 29 July that were later published as official documents in the British Blue Book. After the war, when some limited access was granted to national and parliamentary archives, it transpired that the telegrams had never been sent. It was part of a cosmetic charade to imply that Britain had made every effort to prevent war. Bethmann and the kaiser, on the other hand, genuinely tried to apply the brakes and gain some control of the deteriorating situation. The German chancellor vigorously opposed any military measures that would ruin his diplomatic appeals.

Unfortunately, he was almost the last man standing in that particular field. In Berlin, they held to the fading hope that British diplomats were men of honour, and great store was placed on the reassurances that King George V had recently given to his cousin, Prince Henry of Prussia.

The prince was convinced that the king’s statement ‘was made in all seriousness’ and that England would remain neutral at the start, but he doubted whether she would do so permanently. [18] Germany pursued peace right up to the last minute. As Lloyd George later put it: ‘The last thing that the vainglorious kaiser wanted was a European war’ [19] His and Bethmann’s valiant efforts failed because the Secret Elite and their agents had already engineered the war they so wanted.

Buying time for the Russians was one problem, but getting the Cabinet and Parliament to agree to war required an entirely different approach.

1. Imanuel Geiss, July 1914, pp. 214–15.
2. George Malcolm Thomson, The Twelve Days, p. 80.
3. Sidney B Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 377.
4. Harry Elmer Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 26.
5. Pierre Renouvin, La Crise Européene et la Grande Guerre, p. 112.
6. Thomson, TheTwelve Days, p. 86.
7. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 383.
8. Renouvin, La Crise Européene, p. 117.
9. Grey of Fallodon, Twenty-Five Years, vol. II, p. 162.
10. Hermann Lutz, Lord Grey and the World War, p. 244.
11. Ibid.
12. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 431.
13. Moltke to Bethmann, Berlin, 29 July 1914, DD349, in Geiss, July 1914, pp. 282-4.
14. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 435.
15. Lichnowsky to Jagow, London, 29 July 1914, DD357, in Geiss, July 1914, p. 286.
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid. pp. 288–90.
18. Prince Henry to Kaiser, Kiel, 28 July 1914, KD 374, in Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 500.
19. Lloyd George, War Memoirs, p. 34.

July 1914 (4) The Storm Clouds Darken

Mobilisation meant war. In the first decades of the twentieth century, all of the Great Powers knew that the general mobilisation of the armed forces of a major power signalled its intent on war. Plans for bringing together regular army units, conscripts and reserves, equipping these troops and transporting them to border assembly points had been worked out with great precision. Modern railway systems were the key. The entire process had to be conducted by rail and the general staffs had worked for years to perfect their timetables.

From the moment the command to mobilise was given, everything had to move at fixed times, in precise order, down to the number of train axles that would pass over a given bridge within a given time. [1] Each action in the mobilisation process led logically to the next, in lockstep precision, combining in a practically irreversible escalation to war. In terms of strategic planning, the assumption was that the advantage lay always with the offence, and that speed was of the essence. European leaders believed that a one-to-three-day lead in mobilisation was militarily significant for the course of the war, leaving vulnerable anyone who delayed. [2]

The Franco-Russian Alliance was clearly based on the assertion that mobilisation meant war. [3] Both Russian and French general staffs not only viewed mobilisation as an outright act of war but also insisted that all normal operational decisions be based on that assumption. [4] It is important to clarify that the Russian and French governments understood precisely what mobilisation meant when the decisions were taken in July 1914. Once the order was given and the machinery for mobilisation set in motion, there was little possibility of stopping it.

The kaiser and his military advisors observed the same rule that general mobilisation was the first decisive step towards war. They knew they had no choice but to respond in kind if a general Russian mobilisation was ordered. In such a scenario, the moment Germany mobilised in self-defence, the Franco-Russian Alliance would be triggered. The French would mobilise to support Russia, and Germany would be faced with war on two fronts. This was no secret. Both alliances knew precisely how the other would react in the event of war.

Germany was to be compelled to fight war on two fronts and would be greatly outnumbered by the combined forces of Russia, France and Britain. The czar’s army alone was much larger than that of the kaiser, though neither better trained nor equipped. With her more modern road and rail networks, Germany’s advantage lay in the rapidity of her mobilisation. In comparison, Russia’s military machine was slow, cumbersome and burdened by inefficiency. A mobilisation across the vast lands of the Russian empire, with inadequate infrastructure, less-developed railroad systems near the German frontiers and inefficient local military authorities was necessarily slow. Russia’s strategic aim was to reduce this natural German advantage by keeping her mobilisation secret for as long as possible.

Within hours of Poincare’s departure from St Petersburg on 23 July, the success of his mission became clear. Russia began mobilising her vast armies and took an irrevocable step towards war in Europe. The Secret Elite’s agent had accomplished his prime objective. At the meeting of the Russian Council of Ministers held at three o’clock on 24 July, they decided to mobilise 1,100,000 men in the four southern military districts of Odessa, Kiev, Moscow and Kazan, together with both the Baltic and Black Sea fleets. [5] The czar further agreed that preparation should be made for the mobilisation of 13 army corps at a date to be determined by Sazonov. The minister of war was authorised to ‘proceed immediately to gather stores of war materiel’ and the minister of finance directed to call in at once all Russian money in Germany and Austria. This, remember, was still 24 July, the day before the Serbian Reply was due for submission. [6]

Immediately after the meeting ended, Foreign Minister Sazonov lunched with ambassadors Buchanan and Paléologue at the French Embassy. These were the Secret Elite’s diplomatic enforcers, who ensured that London and Paris were kept fully updated. Sazonov confirmed that the czar had approved both the mobilisation of over 1 million men and the Russian navy.

The imperial order (ukase) was not to be made public until he, Sazonov, considered that the moment had arrived to enforce it, but all the necessary preliminary preparations for the mobilisation had already begun. [7] Sazonov confirmed that Russia was prepared to ‘face all the risks’, and Paléologue reiterated Poincaré’s ‘blank cheque’, placing France unreservedly on Russia’s side. Poincaré had explicitly instructed Paléologue to reassure Sazonov by prompt and persistent promises of French support. [8] The French ambassador informed Sazonov that he had also received a number of telegrams from the minister in charge of foreign affairs, and that not one of them displayed the slightest sign of hesitation. Russia was mobilising for war, and France placed herself unreservedly by her side. [9] Sazonov was thus constantly reassured that France would stand shoulder to shoulder with Russia.

The following morning, 25 July, the Russian Council of Ministers rubber-stamped the military plans and confirmed their readiness for war. [10] Telegrams were sent out in secret ciphers, halting military manoeuvres throughout the Russian empire. Military divisions were instructed to return immediately from their summer camps to their regular quarters. Troops were to be equipped and prepared for transportation to their designated areas on the frontiers. [11] Cadets undergoing training at the St Petersburg Military Academy were immediately promoted to the rank of officer, and new cadets enrolled. A ‘state of war’ was proclaimed in towns along the frontiers facing Germany and Austria, and a secret order given for the ‘Period Preparatory to War’. [12] This enabled the Russia military command to take extensive measures for mobilisation against Germany without a formal declaration of war.

Meanwhile, on the diplomatic front, ambassadors and chargés d’affaires, ministers and imperial officials continued the pretence that they sought a peaceful resolution to the Austro-Serbian crisis and bought precious time for the military. Russia had begun a secret mobilisation in incremental stages before the Pasic government in Serbia had even responded to the Austrian Note.

Sir George Buchanan urged Sazonov to be cautious lest Germany got wind of the mobilisation, reacted immediately and Russia was portrayed as the aggressor. [13] Buchanan did not suggest that Sazonov should halt the mobilisation, far from it, but urged him to keep it well hidden from German view. It was vital that the mobilisation be as far advanced as possible before the Germans became aware of the military build-up on their frontiers. Furthermore, the Secret Elite in London needed to be able to portray Germany as the aggressor, to entice Germany into firing the first shots and so avoid a situation where Russia could be blamed for starting the war. At all costs, blame had to be laid at Germany’s door. The British public would never accept war unless Germany was seen as the aggressor. This absolute conviction became Britain’s secret diplomatic mantra.

Although Buchanan later denied it, the French ambassador, Paléologue, even went so far in his memoirs as to recall Buchanan telling him: ‘Russia is determined to go to war. We must therefore saddle Germany with the whole responsibility and initiative of the attack, as this will be the only way of winning over English public opinion to the war.’ [14] The Secret Elite and their agents knew exactly how the unfolding events would have to be manipulated to dupe the British public.

Sir Edward Grey stubbornly insisted throughout the whole crisis that the Austro-Serbian dispute did not concern him. [15] This lie went unchallenged. By making no parliamentary reference to events in that part of the world, he hid the Secret Elite’s diplomatic incitement to war behind a screen of apparent lack of interest in the Austro-Serbian conflict. He consulted daily with Sir Arthur Nicolson and had a powerful anti-German ally in Sir Eyre Crowe. These two almost outbid each other in their distaste for Germany and their indulgence of Russia. [16] Grey’s minders never veered from the Secret Elite doctrine. Inside Grey’s Foreign Office, the Empire loyalists behaved like a swarm of Jesuit zealots pledged to an anti-German inquisition.

Meanwhile in Belgrade, at 3 p.m. on 25 July (three hours before responding to the Austrian Note), Pasic’s government, confident of Russian military support, announced Serbia’s mobilisation against Austria. At 9.30 that same night, the Austrians responded by declaring a partial mobilisation (some 22 divisions) of its army against Serbia. [17] Austria had made it patently clear that in the event of such a mobilisation, war would remain localised and no territorial claims would be made on Serbia. She intended to occupy Belgrade until such time as Serbia agreed to all of their demands.

This Austrian mobilisation was deliberately misrepresented as a direct threat to Russia, and the reason for Russian mobilisation. That is a ridiculous claim. The Russian mobilisation had been agreed in principle before Poincaré left St Petersburg and before Austria had even delivered the Note to Serbia. Another fiction put about was that the Russian mobilisation was meant to act as a deterrent to war. What nonsense. It was the first act of war, and all involved knew it. The notion that it could be seen as a deterrent is groundless. They clearly understood that to order mobilisation was to cross the Rubicon: there could be no turning back. [18]

Maurice Paléologue, the French ambassador, offered an interesting insight into what was happening on the streets of the capital:

“At seven in the evening [the 25th] I went to the Warsaw Station [in St Petersburg] to bid farewell to Isvolsky, who was leaving to rejoin his post. Great activity at the terminus, the trains crowded with officers and troops. All this points to mobilisation. We hurriedly exchanged our views of the situation and both arrived at the same conclusion: this time it is war.” [19]

Hour by hour, Russia secretly edged Europe closer to war. [20] Austria had been completely fooled by the diplomatic machinations orchestrated in London and Paris. Berchtold was betrayed, utterly deceived by men he thought he could trust. The czar had been convinced of the need for war by the French President while the British foreign secretary feigned little interest in the disputes in eastern Europe. The events of July 1914 were to have cataclysmic consequences.

[1] Jack Levy, ‘Organisational Routines and the Causes of War’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 30, no. 2, June 1986, p. 196.
[2] Ibid., p. 195.
[3] Harry Elmer Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 354.
[4] Kennan, Fateful Alliance, pp. 250–1.
[5] Memorandum of the day of the Russian Ministry for Foreign Affairs, St Petersburg, 24 July 1914, in Geiss, July 1914, p. 190.
[6] Special Journal of the Russian Council of Ministers, St Petersburg, 24 July
1914, in Geiss, July 1914, pp. 186–7.
[7] Imanuel Geiss, July 1914, p. 214.
[8] Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 324.
[9] Buchanan to Grey, St Petersburg, 25 July 1914, BD 125, Geiss, July 1914, p. 214.
[10] Special Journal of the Russian Council of Ministers, St Petersburg, 25 July 1914, in Geiss, July 1914, p. 207.
[11] Sidney B. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 309.
[12] Stephen J. Cimbala, Military Persuasion: Deterrence and Provocation in Crisis and War, p. 58.
[13] George Buchanan, My Mission to Russia and Other Diplomatic Memories, vol. 1, p. 93.
[14] Ibid., p. 94.
[15] Max Montgelas, Case for the Central Powers, p. 129.
[16] Hermann Lutz, Lord Grey and the World War, p. 244.
[17] Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 336.
[18] Marc Trachtenberg, ‘The Meaning of Mobilization in 1914’, p. 126.
[19] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, pp. 302–3.
[20] Trachtenberg, ‘The Meaning of Mobilization in 1914’, pp. 120–50.

July 1914 (3) The Storm Gathers

The storm was brewed in Russia through the malevolent French President, Raymond Poincare, as St Petersburg became the focal point of meaningful decision making in Europe from mid July 1914. That is not to infer that Czar Nicholas II or his foreign minister, Sazonov, suddenly asserted themselves and stood determined to see this through. Far from it. At each stage, the Secret Elite placemen were physically present to continually reassure the czar and Sazonov that they were making the right decisions, reinforcing them in the certainty that their actions were being forced on them by Austria, and behind Austria, mendacious Germany. The Secret Elite knew that Sazonov would make the defence of Serbia an issue of national pride, and that the aggressive Russian response would draw Germany into the trap of a European war. Paléologue and Buchanan, the French and British ambassadors in St Petersburg, were there to constantly embolden him and keep him from wavering from this course. The lure of the greatest prize drew the Russians on to recklessness. The golden carrot of Constantinople was almost within their reach. This is what they had been secretly promised by Grey and the British foreign office. It was an empty promise, but served its purpose well.

Poincaré’s presidential visit had been scheduled to renew promises of a joint attack on Germany that would destroy their common enemy. Reports of his private conversations with the czar were carried in the press, but no word was written about the substance of the discussions. [1] Indeed, French diplomatic telegrams were altered and suppressed after the war, to conceal the true nature of Poincaré’s visit. [2] His sole purpose 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 believed that the enemy was Germany and that war would be the outcome. The Russian military greeted him enthusiastically. They too were convinced that war was ‘inevitable’ and Poincaré’s endorsement was precisely what they wanted to hear. [3]

Ambassador 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.’ [4] 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.

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. [5] 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.’ [6] 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. 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. [7]

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. [8] 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.

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. [9] Berchtold insisted that the Note was non-negotiable ‘We cannot be satisfied with anything less than their unconditional acceptance within the stated terms; otherwise we should be obliged to draw further consequences.’ [10] The consequences were not as he imagined.

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 would be acceptable in the courts of Europe. A 48-hour deadline was set for an unequivocal acceptance of every point. 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 statements. 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. [11] It was a sham, a blatant attempt to gain additional time for the Russian and French military preparations. [12] 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 on 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.’ [13] Point by point, Sazonov challenged and rejected every part of the Austrian Note. His lack of perspective made nonsense of his 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’ [14] 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’. [15] 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’. [16] 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. [17] As ever, the voice of the Secret Elite was a step ahead.

The Serbian Reply was carefully crafted and moderate in character. [18] It not only won the approval and sympathy of the entente powers but also of neutrals everywhere. It even commanded the admiration of Berchtold, who described the Reply as ‘the most brilliant example of diplomatic skill which I have ever known’, but he added that though it appeared to be reasonable, it was ‘wholly worthless in content’. [19] The diplomatic language certainly had all the hallmarks of a professional tactician. Pasic had previously relied on Hartwig, the Russian ambassador, whose untimely death ought to have left him bereft of ideas. Yet, out of nowhere, this comparative nonentity apparently produced a masterstroke of international diplomacy. Pasic was reputedly a lost, floundering soul without his Russian mentor, so who was behind the Serbian Reply? Belgrade had immediately appealed to Sazonov, Paléologue and the czar for help. [20] Behind the scenes, the telegraph lines between London, Belgrade, St Petersburg and Paris nearly went into meltdown. Sir Edward Grey telegraphed Belgrade on Friday evening (24 July) at 9.30 p.m. to advise the Serbs on how they should respond. He specifically suggested that they ‘give a favourable reply on as many points as possible within the limit of time, and not to meet Austria with a blank negative’. He wanted them to apologise, express regret for the conduct of their officials and reply in a manner that represented the best interests of Serbia. Grey refused to give any further advice without liaising directly with Russia and France. [21] His time-serving words covered the fact that Britain, France and Russia had already agreed their joint position.

The input from London, Paris and St Petersburg represented a massive public-relations offensive on behalf of Serbia. The Reply was couched in very conciliatory language, with feigned humility and apparent openness and sincerity. European opinion still sided with Austria rather than Serbia, and that would have been reinforced had the Serbs presented an arrogant or insulting reply. Serbia had to be reinvented as a brave and helpless little nation that had gone beyond the boundary of national dignity in surrendering to Austria’s harsh demands. Of all the diplomatic ruses before the war began, there was no cleverer ‘subterfuge than the planning of the Serbian response to Austria’. [22]

To the unwitting, it appeared as though all points bar two had been accepted and that ‘poor little Serbia’ had yielded to the immense and unfair pressure from her neighbour. Kaiser Wilhelm, for example, returned from his three-week cruise and hailed the Serbian Reply as ‘a triumph of diplomacy’ when he first read it. [23] Wilhelm jotted on it: ‘a brilliant performance for a time-limit of only 48 hours. This is more than one could have expected!’ [24] He was convinced that the Austrians would be satisfied and that the few reservations Serbia had made on particular points would be cleared up by negotiation. Kaiser Wilhelm’s immediate and spontaneous response clearly indicated his belief, indeed his joy, that all risk of war had been removed. ‘With it [the Serbian response] every reason for war falls to the ground.’ [25]

Wilhelm’s analysis was sadly naive. He accepted the Serbian concessions at face value, but the Austrians did not. While the Serbian response appeared to consent to virtually every Austrian demand, it was so hedged with qualifications that the Austrians were bound to take umbrage. Only two of Austria’s demands were accepted in their entirety, while the answers to the others were evasive. [26] Reservations and lies had been carefully disguised by skilful dissembling. The most important Austrian demand was rejected outright. Berchtold insisted that judicial proceedings be taken against everyone associated with the assassination plot and that Austro-Hungarian police officers be directly involved in the investigations. Serbia baulked at this, claiming that such an intrusion would be a violation of her constitution. That was not the case. The Austrians had demanded that their police be allowed to assist in the investigation of the crime, not that its officials be allowed to participate in internal Serbian court procedures. There were numerous precedents for such cross-border police involvement. [27] But the Serbs nailed their colours to this spurious assertion and claimed that the Austrian Note was an infringement of their sovereignty.

The Secret Elite knew that Austria would not accept the Reply. It was specifically designed to be rejected. No amount of cosmetic wordplay could hide the fact that it did not accede to the Austrian stipulations. The lie that Austria-Hungary deliberately made the Note so tough that Serbia would have no choice but to refuse it has unfortunately been set in concrete by some historians. The myth that the Secret Elite wanted to promulgate, was that Austria was ‘told’ by Germany to attack Serbia. The best lie is the big lie. If Austria was hell-bent on war with Serbia, why did she entertain the gruelling three-week diplomatic route? Freed from extraneous interference the Austrian army was entirely capable of defeating Serbia. Hawks in the Austrian military had demanded an immediate attack, but the diplomats insisted on the long-delayed Note that unwittingly gave Britain, France and Russia time to lay their trap. [28] The Serbian Reply, and Austria’s consequent reaction, sprang that trap.

On 25 July, Sir George Buchanan in St Petersburg penned a strictly confidential telegram to Sir Edward Grey. It arrived in the Foreign Office at 10.30 p.m. The message could not have been clearer: ‘Russia cannot allow Austria to crush Serbia and become the predominant Power in the Balkans, and, secure of support of France, she will face all the risks of war.’ [29]

The allegation that Austria wanted to crush Serbia was yet another piece of propaganda manufactured to justify the entente over-reaction. But worse still was the French connection: the blank cheque. ‘Secure of support of France’, Russia was prepared to ‘face all the risks of war’. Buchanan spelled out the absolute reassurances that Poincaré had given to Sazonov. These were in fact more than reassurances; this was an incitement to war. Poincaré was inviting Sazonov to lead the line, promising that both countries would march behind the same banner. It was precisely what the Secret Elite had planned.

It was not the Austrian Note that made war inevitable, it was the Serbian Reply designed to provoke the reaction for which Russia, France and Britain were thoroughly prepared.

[1] Sidney B. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 280.
[2] A detailed analysis of the French official telegrams was printed in 1927 showing the omissions and alterations to original documents that had been approved at the Quai d’Orsay. In particular, details of Poincaré’s visit to St Petersburg and subsequent Russian military manoeuvres were removed. G. Demartial, L’Evangile du Quai d’ Orsay, p. 11.
[3] Harry Elmer Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 331.
[4] Buchanan to Grey, 24 July, BD 101, in Geiss, July 1914, p. 196.
[5] Buchanan to Grey 24 July, BD 101. The notes appended to this telegram are particularly valuable. Sir Eyre Crowe at the Foreign Office, a rabid anti-German, advocated immediate preparations to back up France and Russia. The telegram was then passed to the permanent undersecretary, Sir Arthur Nicolson, who added his support to Crowe. Sir Edward Grey responded that he had discussed the matter with Churchill. Layers of support and influence surrounded Grey.
[6] Imanuel Geiss, July 1914, p. 198.
[7] Ibid., p. 199.
[8] Hansard, House of Commons, Debate, 10 July 1914, vol. 64, cc1397–398.
[9] Max Montgelas, British Foreign Policy under Sir Edward Grey, p. 65.
[10] John S. Ewart, Roots and Causes of the Wars, vol. II, pp. 1062–3.
[11] Montgelas, British Foreign Policy under Sir Edward Grey, p. 66.
[12] Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 200.
[13] Extract from the Austrian Red Book, OD 10616, 24 July 1914, in Geiss,
July 1914, p. 174.
[14] Geiss, July 1914, p. 175. Mensdorff to Berchtold, 24 July 1914.
[15] Irene Cooper Willis, England’s Holy War, p. 32.
[16] Manchester Guardian, 25 July 1914.
[17] The Times, 22 July 1914.
[18] Pierre Renouvin, The Immediate Origins of the War, p. 99.
[19] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 340.
[20] Ibid., p. 337.
[21] Ibid., p. 339.
[22] Barnes, Genesis of the World War, pp. 200–1.
[23] Niall Ferguson, Pity of War, p. 156.
[24] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 348.
[25] Ferguson, Pity of War, p. 156.
[26] Joseph Ward Swain, Beginning the Twentieth Century. p. 353.
[27] Ewart, Roots and Causes of the Wars, vol. II, p. 1040.
[28] Harry Elmer Barnes, In Quest of Truth and Justice, p. 47.
[29] Buchanan to Grey, 25 July 1914, BD 125, in Geiss, July 1914, p. 213.

July 1914 (2) The Lull Before The Storm

Behind a veneer of democracy, the British Foreign Office played a masterful game of deceit. From Vienna, the British ambassador Sir Maurice de Bunsen advised that the situation was dangerous and might rapidly deteriorate. [1] Other diplomats conveyed the same burning sense of urgency to their respective governments, but Grey, Poincaré and Sazonov did nothing to reduce the tension. The Secret Elite convinced Berchtold that Europe understood his dilemma. Austria-Hungary had to stop the Serbian-inspired rot. Grey played his cards perfectly. From the outset, Sir Edward Grey worked constantly to deceive the Kaiser and his advisors.

On 9 July, the German ambassador in London, Prince Lichnowsky, was repeatedly assured by Grey that Britain had entered into no secret obligations with France and Russia. Lichnowsky confidently assured his government that ‘England wished to preserve an absolutely free hand to act according to her own judgement in the event of continental complications’. He also reported that Grey said he would be willing to persuade the Russian government to adopt a more peaceful and conciliatory attitude towards Austria. [2] Pure deception. Grey had been intimately associated with the promises made to France since1905. His commitment to the Secret Elite cause overrode honesty. He did nothing to reconcile Russia and Austria. In fact, his ambassador in St Petersburg, Sir George Buchanan, was there to steady the Russian minister, Sazonov’s, shaky hand in the desperate drive to war.

You might have expected the foreign affairs debate in the House of Commons on 10 July to have discussed the growing tensions in the Balkans or the Austrian response to Sarajevo. If Members of Parliament truly thought that the twelve-day old assassination would lead to war, this topic would have consumed all others. It was an opportunity for serious debate that would have warned the nation of ominous developments that could well lead to a continental war. If the Foreign Office had honourably tried to raise the level of public awareness, then this was the logical platform. But the issue of Austrian intentions to punish Serbia and its possible consequences were not raised.

Instead of debating the nation’s role in the event of war, Members of Parliament had their democratic say about commercial interests and allegations that other nations were acting unfairly against British companies and investors. It set a tone of self-interest that was occasionally broken by a shard of enlightenment. [3] Honourable members discussed China, India, Persia and Russia, the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, improving relations with Germany, Portugal and Turkish Armenia but not the crisis in the Balkans. Sir Edward Grey said not a word to criticise or disagree with major points that were completely at odds with the true objectives of the Foreign Office, and then ignored them completely. Had it not been so serious, so calamitous, so despicable, the reader might find it amusing to appreciate how successfully he used the House of Commons to lull the country at large, and the Germans in particular, into believing that Britain had not the slightest concern that the events in Sarajevo might lead to a continental war.

The Liberal MP for Stirling, Arthur Ponsonby, stood in the House and praised the improved relations between Britain and Germany. He hailed the recent successful visit of the British fleet to Kiel as an example of ‘how friendly relations are between Germany and Britain’, and in consequence asked for a commitment to reduce military spending ‘to prevent civilisation being submerged’. [4] This was exactly the kind of signal that inspired German confidence in the British government’s good intentions. Ponsonby was perfectly serious, as was his Liberal colleague Joseph King, who drew appreciation from other members when he attacked czarist Russia’s religious intolerance towards Jews. His contempt for their anti-Semitic practices was clearly expressed in the statement: ‘I consider that a country which abuses the right of free entry is outside the brotherhood of nations.’ Travellers who professed the Jewish faith were systematically denied entry to Russia, even on a British passport, which meant that some of the most prominent and powerful men in the Houses of Parliament could not go there. [5]

What music to the ears of the German ambassador when Joseph King compared the scandal of Russia’s behaviour to the goodwill and affection for ‘countries like Germany, which stand with us in the forefront of civilisation’. [6] Again and again, honourable Members of Parliament, completely ignorant of the Secret Elite agenda, underlined the much improved relationship between Britain and Germany. Ultimately, not one word spoken in the debate mattered. It was as if the ominous events in the Balkans had no relevance in London. The British people’s contempt for Russia was palpable, but that meant nothing to the Secret Elite. At that very moment, Grey’s ambassadors were manipulating St Petersburg towards a war to destroy Germany. That could not be achieved without the Russian armies. While Parliament praised the new warmth in the Anglo-German relationship, the Foreign Office continued its preparations to blow it apart. The date was 10 July 1914.

Two factors played into the hands of the international conspirators. Firstly, the Austrians, in the person of Count Berchtold believed that all of the major European countries except Russia were behind them. Berchtold had been repeatedly assured that this was fact. Secondly, by sticking strictly to protocol, Berchtold went through the slow process of informing all of the appropriate agencies in the Austro-Hungarian empire, before taking formal action. On 14 July, he dutifully explained to the ageing emperor that demands would be made to Serbia in a very firm ‘Note’. These included an immediate end to anti-Austrian propaganda and anti-Austrian teaching in schools; public apologies for the assassination from King Peter and the Serbian government; direct Austrian police involvement in the criminal investigations within Serbia and the immediate surrender of those complicit in the murder. Such details were much in line with what was already known in London. Secrets did not remain secrets for long in the sieve of international diplomacy. Too many ministers and civil servants had sight of the proposed text of the Austrian Note as it was discussed and finalised.

On 16 July, the British ambassador at Vienna, Sir Maurice de Bunsen, telegraphed Sir Edward Grey with a detailed account of the Austrian indictment against Serbia. [7] He itemised the demands that would be made and, additionally, the fact that Austria would insist on unconditional compliance. De Bunsen stated that there was a genuine belief in Austria that Russia would not seek to protect racial assassins. He added that Austria also believed she would lose her position as a Great Power if she did not act definitively. [8] It was exactly as the Foreign Office expected.

Unaware that their intentions were already widely known, Berchtold delayed further. He decided to postpone delivering the demands to Serbia until the President of France had concluded a visit to St Petersburg. France and Russia were committed to a treaty of mutual defence in the event of war with Germany, and it was no co-incidence that the French President, Raymond Poincare, had decided to visit St. Petersburg shortly after the Archduke’s assassination. Historians have described the visit from 20 to 23 July 1914 as a ceremonial state occasion of no particular consequence. If that was so, why did the French 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 could have easily delayed in Paris until the crisis had passed. He 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 him to Russia. [9] This was no innocent state visit. Nor was its timing a matter of chance. Poincaré’s very presence in St Petersburg was ominous.

Berchtold believed his delay would reduce the danger of France and Russia concocting a joint rejection to the Note. They were determined to keep the problem and the solution limited to Serbia. In this, Berchtold was encouraged by Germany. He was prepared to wait. The Secret Elite had been presented with a perfect excuse to fan the smouldering mistrust in the Balkans and set fire to Europe. The clause in the ‘Note’ which demanded that Austrian police should be involved in the investigation was translated into an act of sovereign interference. That Serbia had to accept every clause without exception, gave rise to the claim that the ‘Note’ was in fact an ultimatum. From 16 July, the diplomatic buzz centred exclusively on the forthcoming Austrian Note to Serbia, and the vocabulary sharpened to a threatening barb. Amongst the entente diplomats, in the rat runs of conspiracy in London, St Petersburg and Paris, the forthcoming Note further mutated from ‘ultimatum’ into ‘unacceptable ultimatum’. Berchtold’s gravest mistake was in withholding the demands to Serbia for three weeks in the expectation that it mattered that Poincaré had departed from Russia. In fact, the delay was counterproductive. Poincaré might have been at sea, but Berchtold was the one marooned by his own procrastination. He gifted the Secret Elite precious time to prepare an orchestrated response. Berchtold was also the victim of a cruel deception.

The three entente governments used their diplomatic corps to lead him down a blind ally. They told him that ‘there was little probability indeed’ that their reaction to the Note would go beyond a diplomatic protest. [10] Newspaper editorials and political comment had been repeatedly favourable to Austria. British ambassador Sir Maurice de Bunsen convinced Berchtold that Britain would not intervene. Edward Grey’s professed indifference to the Austro-Serbian quarrel was considered proof of this disinterest. He repeatedly said that he had no right to intervene. [11] Poor Berchtold. The reassurances spurred him on to disaster. [12] Within three weeks of the Sarajevo assassination, the Secret Elite network had successfully manipulated the unfolding events in Austria and Serbia. They embarked on a mission to ensure that Russia’s commitment to support Serbia against Austria remained firm, in the full knowledge that Germany would be dragged into the conflict. Simultaneously, they repeatedly and disingenuously assured Berlin of their good faith and noble intention. Britain, France and Russia expressed an unreserved understanding for the Austrian case against Serbia, but by the third week in July these same politicians were poised to declare a complete rejection of Austria’s response. Count Berchtold had been drawn into a well-constructed trap that the Secret Elite strategists hoped would net a greater prize. War with Germany.

[1] Gooch and Temperley, British Documents on the Origins of the War, vol. XI; Bunsen to Grey, 5 July, BD 40.
[2] Lichnowsky to Bethmann Hollweg, 9 July 1914, D.D. 30. cited in Imanuel Geiss, July 1914, p. 105.
[3] Hansard, Foreign Office, Class II, House of Commons, Debate, 10 July 1914, vol. 64, cc1383–463.
[4] Arthur Ponsonby, Hansard, House of Commons, Debate, 10 July 1914, vol. 64, cc1397–398.
[5] Joseph King pointed out in that debate that Mr Cassel, a distinguished financier, Sir P. Magnus, a world renowned medical scientist, Mr Montagu, the secretary to the Treasury, Mr Herbert Samuel, president of the Local Government Board, and the lord chief justice himself, Isaac Rufus, were all barred by their Jewish faith from entering Russia.
[6] Joseph King, Hansard, House of Commons, Debate, 10 July 1914, vol. 64, cc1438–50.
[7] Bunsen to Grey, 16 July, BD 50, but suppressed from the British Blue Book. Thus the official documents published in this ‘book’, Great Britain and the European Crisis, Correspondence and Statements, together with an Introductory Narrative of Events, published in 1914, deliberately sifted out incriminating evidence.
[8] Sidney B. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 247, footnote.
[9] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 278.
[10] Harry Elmer Barnes , ‘Germany Not Responsible for Austria’s Actions’, New York Times Current History of the European War, vol. 28 (1928), issue 4, p. 624.
[11] Barnes, In Quest of Truth and Justice, p. 44.
[12] Pierre Renouvin, The Immediate Origins of the War, p. 99.