GUEST BLOG: Professor Hans Fenske (1) The Allied Refusal of Peace Talks 1914–1919

This is the first of four guest blogs from Hans Fenske, Professor of Contemporary History at Freiburg University from 1977-2001 and author of Der Anfang vom Ende des alten Europa. (The Beginning of the End of Old Europe; The Allied Refusal of Peace Talks, 1914-1919.)

A War Germany did not want.

When handing over the peace treaty to the German delegation on 7 May 1919, French Prime Minister Clemenceau stated very brusquely that the most horrible war had been foisted on the Allies, and that now the time of reckoning had come. There would be no spoken negotiations; only remarks concerning the treaty in its entirety would be accepted if submitted in writing within two weeks. In his answer, German Foreign Minister Brockdorff-Rantzau rejected the accusation of exclusive responsibility and demanded that an impartial commission investigate the amount of guilt of all parties concerned.

The victorious Allied powers were not prepared to concede forming an impartial commission to look at the facts, but there were a number of neutral scholars who in their academic work reached a view appropriate to the facts. As early as 1914, the renowned American Professor of Law, John William Burgess declared – after having studied the Blue Books presented by the warring parties – that the Entente held a far greater share of responsibility for the war than Germany and the Danube Monarchy. The Swiss scholar Ernst Sauerbeck confirmed this view in 1919. According to his findings, the Entente had unleashed the war without need and turned it into what it became – the tomb of entire nations. He also accused the victorious powers of having, by means of the Versailles peace treaty, allowed the 1914-1918 war to grow into the direst doom that has possibly ever threatened the world; that is the War that began in 1939.

In addition, experts from Norway, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Sweden and Finland, who in 1927 presented their expertise in a volume published by a Norwegian committee investigating the issue of war guilt, assessed the share of guilt of the Central Powers as low. According to Hermann Aall, the committee’s secretary, Russia had provoked the war, and Great Britain played a decisive role in its outbreak. Axel Drolsum of the University of Oslo stated that Germany in 1914 had been the only nation to have tried everything it could to keep the peace, but that it failed due to the will of the other powers to make war.

Moreover, please let reference be made to one voice from a victorious country. In 1924, the French journalist and former diplomat Alcide Ebray recommended a thorough revision of the Treaty of Versailles. He claimed that the Czarist Regime held the decisive share of war guilt, while Germany acted in favour of a conciliatory position in Vienna and St. Petersburg in 1914.

In Serbia, the radical party had been the decisive power since the bloody officers’ putsch back in 1903, during which the Royal couple had been murdered. This party pursued a decidedly anti-Austrian foreign policy which demanded that all Serbs be united within one state. The problem here was the fact that there were about as many Serbs living outside the country as within, particularly in the two provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina.  Although they nominally still belonged to the Ottoman Empire, they had been under Austrian-Hungarian administration since the Congress of Vienna in 1878. When the Habsburg Empire annexed them in 1908 following an arrangement with Russia, there was a severe international crisis. When this was settled in March 1909, Serbia had to sign a treaty pledging to again maintain good neighbourly relations with the Danube Monarchy. But this did nothing to change Belgrade’s keen antagonism towards Vienna. First, however, Serbian activities were directed towards the South. The war against the Ottoman Empire started by Italy in 1911 to conquer Libya triggered Serbian talks with Bulgaria about whether to join arms against the Turks. After entering into an alliance, the two states started the campaign in the autumn of 1912. Together with Montenegro and Greece, they took away from the Ottoman Empire nearly its entire possessions on the Balkan during the First Balkan War.

This took place with the full assent of Russia, which wanted to get the Bosporus and the Dardanelles under its control and which therefore had a strong interest in effecting changes on the Balkans. Serbia enlarged its territory considerably towards the south. In November 1912, shortly after the beginning of the war, the French ambassador in Belgrade reported to Paris that Serbia was set on bringing down Austria at the first possible occasion. King Peter asked the Russian ambassador whether to enact the downfall the Habsburg Empire now, or whether to still wait. The Russian ambassador relayed this question to St. Petersburg, from where in February 1913 came the answer that Russia was not yet ready for a war against Austria-Hungary. Serbia should content itself with the present increase in territory for now, so that it could later, once the time was ripe, lance the Austrian-Hungarian abscess. Later, more statements of this kind were issued from St. Petersburg: Serbia would find its promised land in Austria-Hungary and should prepare itself for the inevitable battle.

When, in the summer of 1913, Serbia – together with Greece and Romania – turned against Bulgaria in a struggle over the recently conquered land, Russia backed Serbia; it clearly was a satellite of Russia.

At the beginning of 1914, the leadership in St. Petersburg saw Russia far better prepared for a war than the previous year. During a council of war, a decision was taken to use the upcoming war for occupying Constantinople and the Straits. The Russian military gazette expressly declared the Czarist Regime’s readiness for war, and in late March, the head of the military academy declared in front of officers that a war with the Triple Alliance was inevitable and would probably break out in the summer. The Belgian ambassador in St. Petersburg reported to Brussels at the beginning of June that it was to be expected that Russia would soon put its war tools to use. At the same time, Foreign Minister Sazonov exerted pressure in London to quickly conclude the marine convention about which negotiations had been going on for some time. Soon after, he travelled to Romania together with the Czar. There, he asked the Prime Minister how Romania would react should Russia see itself compelled by the events to start hostile actions.

St. Petersburg was well aware that in the case of a big European conflict, Russia would be firmly backed by France and Great Britain. A Russian-French alliance had been in effect since 1894. The British-French understanding about Egypt and Morocco of 1904 was amended from 1905 by firm military agreements made by the General Staffs, about which the Belgian military was kept informed. During his visit to England in September 1912, Sazonov was assured by the British Foreign Minister Grey that in the case of a German-French war, Great Britain would support France by sea and by land, and try to deliver as destructive a blow as possible to German predominance. For Grey, Germany’s strong economic growth presented a grave threat; its weakening was thus a definite necessity for him.

When the Serbian secret society “Unification or Death” planned the murder of Austrian heir apparent Franz Ferdinand in 1914, the head of the Serbian intelligence service, Dragutin Dimitrijević, leader of the putsch of 1903, asked the Russian military attaché, whether this plan was convenient. St. Petersburg sent its consent, although they should have been aware that the Danube monarchy would have no choice but to react harshly to the murder of their heir to the throne. Apparently, Russian leadership thought the moment had arrived to lance the Austrian-Hungarian abscess.

In mid-June, German Reich Chancellor Bethmann-Hollweg asked the German ambassador in London to talk with Grey about securing European peace. If another crisis was to erupt in the Balkans, Russia might react more decisively  than before due to its comprehensive rearmament. Whether this would result in a European clash would depend entirely on Great Britain and Germany. If both states were to act as guarantors of peace, then war might be prevented. If not, any arbitrary marginal difference might light the war torch between Russia and Austria-Hungary. Grey’s response to the ambassador was placatory, but of course he did not tell him the truth.

After the Sarajevo murder on 28 June, Austrian Foreign Minister Berchtold and General Chief of Staff Hötzendorf argued for an immediate strike against Serbia. The Hungarian Prime Minister prevented this. They agreed to demand of Serbia absolute clarification about the crime, but to hand over the respective note only after the end of the impending French state visit to Russia. They were sure about German allegiance to Austria in case of complications; a high-level public servant had been given this assurance when visiting Berlin on 5 and 6 July. The relevant German decision makers agreed that Russia would not intervene, so that the conflict could remain localised. That was a crass misjudgement.

During their stay in St. Petersburg on 20 through 23 July, the French guests, President Poincaré and Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Viviani, repeated the assurance of absolute French solidarity in a war against Germany, often given before. Sazonov and Viviani agreed on 23 July that everything must be done to counter the Austrian demand as well as any request which might be construed as a meddling with Serbian independence. The Austrian note to Serbia called for an unequivocal condemnation of propaganda directed against the Danube Monarchy, and lodged claims as to how this should occur. It also asked for the participation of Austrian delegates in suppressing any subversive efforts directed against the Habsburg Empire, as well as in investigating the murder. An answer was expected within 48 hours, i.e. by the evening of 25 July.

At first, the Serbian council of ministers showed a strong penchant to accommodate this request, and maybe it might have been even more pronounced, had Vienna made reference in its note to the fact that after the murder of Serbian ruler Duke Michael Obrenović in 1868, a Serbian prosecutor had conducted examinations in the Danube Monarchy. A call back to St. Petersburg was answered with the admonition to remain firm, which caused a change in opinion. Thus Serbia mobilised its forces on the afternoon of 25 July and handed over a rather conciliatory answer three hours later. Only the Austrian involvement in suppressing the subversive efforts and in investigating the murder was denied. At once, the Danube monarchy cancelled its diplomatic relations with Serbia. On the same day, Berchthold had it stated in St. Petersburg that should a battle with Serbia be foisted on Austria, this would not be about territorial gain but about defence, and that Serbian sovereignty would not be touched.

Czar Nicholas II had informally started mobilisation directly after the departure of his French guests on 24 July; the respective measures did not go unnoticed by German observers. The British navy was made ready for war on 26 July, and France called back all vacationers to their respective units. Formal Russian mobilisation against Austria-Hungary was ordered on 29 July, complete one day later. The German Empire tried to mediate until the last minute. On 28 July, the day of the Austrian declaration of war against Serbia, Emperor Wilhelm II. advised Vienna to stop in Belgrade, and even on 31 July, he urgently asked the Czar to avert the doom now facing the entire civilised world. Peace in Europe might still be kept if Russia stopped military actions threatening Germany and Austria-Hungary. Since Nicholas II. did not cancel the mobilisation order, the German Empire informed Russia on the evening of 1 August that it regarded the state of war to have occurred. On 3 August, it also declared war on France, after efforts to receive a declaration of neutrality from France had remained unsuccessful.

This was intended as a pre-emptive measure. France could not be left to choose the moment for attack; after all, German plans for a war on two fronts envisaged first turning west. The breach of Belgian neutrality by Germany, which at that point was only nominal, gave Grey the welcome opportunity to lead Great Britain into war on 4 August. Up to that point, public opinion had predominantly been in favour of steering clear of the strife on the Continent. During the crisis, Grey had been very insincere about his intentions towards German diplomats, misleading most of his cabinet colleagues, the House of Commons and the general public.

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 (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.

July 1914 (1) Creating The Perfect Storm

Although the smouldering distrust and racially inflamed tensions that continually raised the political temperature in the Balkans were very deliberately reignited by the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, the spark failed to catch fire immediately. Civilised Europe was certainly stunned by the double murder. His uncle, the elderly Austrian emperor Franz Joseph, went into shock.

Austria-Hungary was outraged, and there were anti-Serbian riots in Sarajevo and Mostar, [1] but it required weeks of careful planning and considered judgement on the part of the Secret Elite to fan the understandable outrage and bring about the great European war for which they had planned since before 1905. Furthermore, it required the highest level of diplomatic skill and political nous, allied to press connivance, unseen sleights of hand and downright lies to achieve the ultimate goal of war with Germany. War apparently started by Germany; war that would once and for all crush Germany and re-affirm the pre-eminence of the British race.

On 1 July, 1914, war was not inevitable. Far from it. The assassination in itself presented no cause for a world war. Political murders were not uncommon in these troubled parts, with royalty, prime ministers, political opponents and religious leaders all victims to the gunman in the recent past. [2] This was different. The Secret Elite deliberately and systematically whipped the consequences of Sarajevo into a raging wildfire that could not be extinguished. From the hub of the Foreign Office in July 1914, Sir Edward Grey and his ambassadorial guard abused their position in order to trick Austria-Hungary and Germany, into a European war. A diplomatic network of highly experienced ambassadors committed to the Secret Elite vision of the pre-eminence of the British race was in place throughout the European capitals: Sir George Buchanan in St Petersburg, Sir Maurice de Bunsen in Vienna, Sir Edward Goschen in Berlin and Sir Francis Bertie in Paris. Each was entrusted with the task of manipulating the Balkan crisis into a war that would see the Anglo-centric influence dominate the world.

Highly confidential information and instruction passed to and fro between the British embassies and legations and the Foreign Office, where Sir Eyre Crowe and Sir Arthur Nicolson headed Grey’s personal praetorian guard. Even where the major players appeared to be Russian (Sazonov and Isvolsky) or French (Poincaré and Maurice Paléologue, the French Ambassador at St Petersburg in 1914), their actions were sanctioned from London. The last days of June and the first week of July were, on the surface, comparatively calm. An outpouring of sympathy for Austria and its old monarchy followed the initial shock of the assassination. In a parliamentary address on 30 June, Prime Minister Asquith stated that Emperor Franz Joseph ‘and his people have always been our friends’. He spoke of the ‘abhorrence of the crime and the profound sympathy of the British Parliament’. [3] In France, President Poincaré expressed his ‘sincere condolences’. [4] Profound sincerity did not last long.

Despite the archduke’s high office and his position and rank as heir apparent, his funeral was decidedly low-key. The Austrian foreign minister, Count Leopold Berchtold, allegedly wanted it that way. Kaiser Wilhelm II definitely intended to go. Franz Ferdinand had been a close personal friend, and it was his duty to show public respect to the ageing emperor. [5] The kaiser, however, developed diplomatic lumbago when it was rumoured that a dozen Serbian assassins were making their way to Vienna to kill him. [6] Prince Arthur of Connaught was the designated representative for King George V, but quite suddenly, on 2 July, he and all other members of European royalty cancelled. Every one. Fears were expressed that other assassins were ready to do away with any passing royalty. No collection of funereal crowned heads gathered in Vienna. But the insult to Austria threatened their national pride. It was a crime too far crying out for justice. And most of Europe appeared to understand this.

Yet Serbia, the nation with most to fear in terms of retribution, continued to goad Austria and made little pretence of being contrite. Why? Why did the Serbs continue to aggravate the situation, unless of course they, and others, were determined to provoke a reaction? The Times correspondent reported on 1 July that newspapers in Belgrade were claiming that the assassination was a consequence of the bad old Austrian police system and a lack of real liberty in Austria. The Russian press was equally aggressive. They placed the responsibility for Serb agitation on those who, ‘like Franz Ferdinand’, sowed discord between Roman Catholic Croats and Orthodox Serbs.. If the powers that controlled Serbia, both internally and from St Petersburg, had wanted to caution restraint, then this provocation would never have been tolerated. But the assassination had not been meticulously planned as some singular act of defiance. The flames were not to be doused. Russia and Serbia alone took an aggressive stance.

In Britain the Westminster Gazette, owned by Waldorf Astor from the Secret Elite ’s inner-circle, [7] stated that ‘Austria cannot be expected to remain inactive’. [8] The Manchester Guardian, always influential in Liberal circles, declared that Serbia’s record was unmatched as a tissue of cruelty, greed, hypocrisy and ill faith. ‘If it were physically possible for Serbia to be towed out to sea and sunk there, the air of Europe would at once seem clearer.’ [9] It could hardly have made its position more obvious. With one exception, The Times, all English newspapers recognised that Austria had suffered intense provocation and acknowledged her right to take the strongest measures to secure the punishment of those concerned. The weekly paper John Bull, which had a wide readership among the working classes, was equally adamant that Austria’s position was ‘just’. [10] Small wonder, then, that Berchtold believed that he had the understanding and sympathy of the British government.

The British public were consumed by its own immediate crisis. Though it is not absolutely true to say that they had their heads turned exclusively elsewhere, the overwhelming newspaper interest centred on Irish Home Rule, gun running and the Ulster Volunteers. All of these threatened a civil war. [11] Day by day, week by week, the Loyalists in Ulster and the Home-Rulers in the southern counties captured the headlines and raised the horrendous spectre of a civil war that would spill over onto mainland Britain. How convenient, then, that for most of the month of July home affairs dominated learned debate, while Sir Edward Grey and the Foreign Office went about their business in almost monastic silence, unburdened by the need to keep the Cabinet or Parliament informed of the developing crisis in Europe.

Austria was determined to deal with Serbia as an act of self-preservation, [12] but it would have been impractical to attempt this without the approval of her great ally, Germany. A letter from Emperor Franz Joseph was delivered to the kaiser at Potsdam on 5 July, underlining Austria’s desire to take definitive action. After discussing the representations from Vienna with his advisors, Kaiser Wilhelm gave his unqualified approval, the so called German ‘blank cheque’. This was later misrepresented as a binding promise to give Austria military support against Serbia in order to bring about a European-wide war. It was nothing of the sort. Certainly the kaiser encouraged Austria to take whatever action she believed necessary to put Serbia in its place, [13] but few in Germany believed that Russian military intervention in a localised dispute was a realistic possibility. Russia had no defence treaty with Serbia, and Austria had no intention whatsoever of using force against Russia. It was inconceivable to the kaiser that the czar would actively support the ‘regicides’ in Serbia. [14]

One of the most deliberate historical misrepresentations of the twentieth century took root in that Potsdam meeting. A great lie was concocted by the Secret Elite that, before going on his scheduled sailing holiday, the kaiser convened a crown council meeting at Potsdam on 5 July and revealed his determination to make war on an unsuspecting Europe. [15] The myth holds that he was advised to wait a fortnight in order to give German bankers time to sell off their foreign securities. [16] Such blatant fabrication has since been unmasked as part of the orchestrated propaganda constructed to ‘prove ’ that Germany intimidated Austria into attacking Serbia in order to draw Russia into the conflict. [17] In the years immediately after the war, the deliberate lie that the kaiser was the instigator of war passed into accepted history as ‘truth’. Children learn in school, and students repeat in examinations, that war was the kaiser’s doing. In fact, the only signal he transmitted back to Vienna was that, whatever Austria decided, Germany would stand by her as a friend and ally.

Reassured by support from across Europe, Berchtold came to the logical conclusion that he was expected to punish Serbia for the crime of Sarajevo. Other governments, even the entente governments, appeared to approve the need for retribution. [18] Indeed, the Austro-Hungarian ministerial council was concerned that if they did not take strong action, their own Slav and Romanian subjects would interpret it as weakness. [19] They agreed to make stringent demands on Serbia. Nothing else would stop their vicious intrigues. The die was cast, but few in Britain knew that the dice were even rolling.

[1] The Times 1 July 1914.
[2] King George I of Greece was assassinated in 1913; Mahmud Sevket Pasha, prime minister of Turkey in 1913; José Canalejas, prime minister of Spain in 1912; Prime Minister Stolypin in Russia in 1911; Grand Duke Alexandrovitch Romanov in 1911. Many survived attempted assassination, including Prince Albert Edward in 1900, Kaiser Wilhelm II in 1900 and Theodore Roosevelt in 1912.
[3] Prime Minister Herbert Asquith in Hansard, House of Commons, Debate, 30 June 1914, vol. 64, cc214–6.
[4] Imanuel Geiss, July 1914: The Outbreak of the First World War: Selected
Documents, p. 55.
[5] Ibid., p. 63.
[6] Sidney B. Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 205.
[7] Carroll Quigley, Anglo-American Establishment, p. 12.
[8] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 332.
[9] Irene Cooper Willis, England’s Holy War, p. 59.
[10] Ibid., p. 25.
[11] Jonathan Bardon, A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes, p. 435.
[12] Count Leopold Berchtold, ‘Austria’s Challenge Justified by Serbian Menace’, New York Times Current History of the European War, vol. 28 (1928), p. 626.
[13] Geiss, July 1914, p. 71.
[14] Ibid., p. 72.
[15] Harry Elmer Barnes, In Quest of Truth and Justice, p. 52.
[16] Fay, Origins of the World War, vol. II, p. 175.
[17] Harry Elmer Barnes, Genesis of the World War, p. 241.
[18] ‘Origin of the World War: Minutes of a Historic Council’, New York Times Current History of the European War, vol. 11, (1919), pp. 455–60.
[19] Geiss, July 1914, pp. 80–7.