Secret Diplomacy: How Far Can It Be Eliminated?
Part 4
In 1861 a select committee of Parliament on the diplomatic service was appointed. It took evidence, among other things, on the existence of “secret diplomacy” in the British service. By this term was understood private correspondence or private action affecting the conduct of public affairs, which did not become part of the record in the ministry. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the Earl of Clarendon, Lord Cowley, and Lord John Russell, all gave evidence with respect to the conduct of business by private correspondence. They all seemed to agree that private correspondence between the Foreign Minister and the individual representatives abroad was useful and even necessary for supplementing the formal instructions and reports. But they stated their belief that whenever any such private correspondence should begin to affect the actual conduct of public affairs it would certainly get into the record; if, however, it should come to nothing, then it might not be referred to in public despatches.
IV
NAPOLEON III, DISRAELI, BISMARCK
We have so far been dealing primarily with the methods of diplomacy. During the old régime both the methods and the general policy of diplomatic action were controlled by the secret councils of the monarch and of a few ministers. With the growth of representative government public opinion began to concern itself more directly with foreign affairs. There grew up gradually, although with many relapses and with many breaks of continuity, a consensus that while the methods of diplomatic action might be secret, the general trend of policy should regularly be laid before the representatives of the people who should also be informed of any individual action involving the responsibilities of the nation. When, therefore, in contemplating the history of the last one hundred years, secret diplomacy is spoken of in condemnatory terms, the attempted secrecy of national foreign _policy_, rather than of methods, is usually thought of. When important engagements are undertaken which involve the nation in responsibility to others, particularly for the use of armed forces; when by a series of specific acts a tendency is given to foreign policy which is not avowed to the representatives of the people; then there exists secret diplomacy in a reprehensible sense. A further method of concealment works through a false statement of motives. Often narrowly selfish action has been camouflaged with the avowal of noble aims and high ideals; or there has been fencing for position in order that at the beginning of a war the opprobrium of being the assailant could be thrown on the other party. Undoubtedly sometimes statesmen may persuade themselves of the presence of high motives in matters in which their specific action or that of their successors, working with the same materials, takes on a contrary direction.
At the conclusion of the Crimean war, Lord Palmerston wrote to Lord Clarendon (March 1, 1867) as follows:
“... the alliance of England and France has derived its strength not merely from the military and naval power of the two states, but from the force of the moral principle upon which that union has been founded. Our union has for its foundation resistance to unjust aggression, the defence of the weak against the strong, and the maintenance of the existing balance of power. How, then, could we combine to become unprovoked aggressors, to imitate in Africa the partition of Poland by the conquest of Morocco for France, of Tunis and some other state for Sardinia, and of Egypt for England? And, more especially, how could England and France, who have guaranteed the integrity of the Turkish Empire, turn round and wrest Egypt from the Sultan? A coalition for such a purpose would revolt the moral feelings of mankind, and would certainly be fatal to any English Government that was a party to it. Then, as to the balance of power to be maintained by giving us Egypt, but we do not want the burden of governing Egypt, and its possession would not, as a political, military, and naval question, be considered, in this country, as a set-off against the possession of Morocco by France. Let us try to improve all these countries by the general influence of our commerce, but let us all abstain from a crusade of conquest which would call upon us the condemnation of all other civilized nations.”
This program of liberal principles applied to foreign affairs, of high-toned and high-minded diplomacy, one reads with mixed feelings in view of the things which have come thereafter.
In the period between the Crimean and the Franco-Prussian war, Napoleon pursued a policy, or a series of policies, which fitly illustrate the worst features of secret diplomacy. In 1858 Napoleon III obtained from Cavour a promise that Savoy and Nice should be ceded to France. These arrangements, made without the knowledge or the desire of the French people, involved Napoleon in the war of 1859 and led to a fatal weakening of his position. In 1864 Napoleon secretly suggested to Prussia that she might take Schleswig-Holstein, thus greatly encouraging her to undertake the war of 1864. France at this time was under treaty obligations to Denmark which made such action doubly dishonest. When the war between Austria and Prussia broke out in 1866, Napoleon concluded a secret treaty with Austria which contained a bargain that he would assist Austria to recover Silesia in return for a cession of Venetia to Italy, to compensate the latter for Savoy and thus to eradicate the evil effects of the arrangement of 1858. As this treaty became known, it absolutely alienated Prussia from France. At the same time Napoleon had secretly demanded from Prussia the cession of the Rhenish Palatinate which belonged to Bavaria; this would mean of course that Prussia and France together would first have to take it from Bavaria. Bismarck secretly informed Bavaria of this demand and thus turned her decisively against Napoleon; so that he was enabled to make secret treaties of alliance not only with Bavaria but with Wurtemberg and Baden for their military support in case of war. Napoleon had thus managed unwittingly to bring about the coalition of German states which proved disastrous to him in 1870. Had the French government known of these three German treaties, it would probably have avoided war; as it was, France did not know that she would have all Germany against her. In 1866 Napoleon, through Benedetti, submitted to Bismarck a draft treaty according to which, in case the French Emperor should decide to send his troops to enter Belgium, the King of Prussia would grant armed aid to France and support her with all his forces, military and naval, in the face of and against every other power which might in this eventuality declare war. Though this draft treaty, which became known in Great Britain and caused high excitement there, was not adopted in this form, a secret compact was made between France and Prussia in 1867, one article of which stated that Prussia would not object to the annexation of Belgium by France. The fact that both of these powers had signed the treaty of 1839, guaranteeing the neutrality of Belgium, aggravates the noxiousness of this conspiracy. Early in 1870 Napoleon was secretly negotiating with Austria with a view to a joint war against North Germany. The negotiations were in progress when the war of 1870 broke out. Probably Bismarck was informed of what was going on and was therefore the more anxious to face at once what he considered an inevitable war. As already stated, Napoleon did not communicate to his responsible minister his decision to require of the King of Prussia the absolute assurance that no German prince should ever again be nominated for the throne of Spain. In doing so he put himself in a position where Bismarck could manœuver him into a dilemma from which there seemed no exit except war.
This was done by the famous editing of the Ems dispatch through which, taking advantage of King William’s permission to modify and eliminate, Bismarck gave to the report sent by the king the appearance that nothing further could be said between the king and the French envoy and that therefore the only alternative to the French was retreat or war. This act illustrates one of the most terrible dangers of secret diplomacy in that just at the time when inflammable material is at hand in abundance, one word or phrase may give a decisive turn to developments and force an issue, in a certain direction, without allowing a chance for calm consideration of all that is involved.
Bismarck considered that the unification of Germany required a war because only thus could the feeling of unity among the German people, until then divided into numerous small states, be molded into political oneness. But in bringing on the Franco-Prussian war, no matter how inevitable he might consider such a struggle, he was too confident of his ability to play the part of a Providence and to cut short the slow processes of historic development. Therefore, though he attempted to work in the interest of outstanding national factors, his policy was not of a nature to develop that public confidence in the aims of his nation on which alone a statesman can permanently build. His was the diplomacy of authority, often announcing its aims with great frankness, indeed, but always retaining the old method so that the public mind remained often in the dark. His politics directed German development into a dangerous course. He abhorred German disunion, but tried to cure it with means too forceful and artificial. The solutions brought about further problems. The taking of Alsace-Lorraine was the cause of future war. In 1871, Bismarck offered Mulhouse to Switzerland secretly, but the gift was declined. In the years after 1871, Bismarck always threatened Parliament with the danger of war whenever he wanted to put anything through.
The Russo-Turkish war of 1878, being in its nature a conflict about the merits of which only vague ideas could be current among the Western nations, produced a whole nest of secret treaties. The treaty of San Stefano itself was kept secret by Russia and Turkey. The British Foreign Secretary in a diplomatic note which was much admired at the time, demanded that the treaty must be submitted to the European powers.
Meanwhile a second secret treaty had been made between Russia and Austria wherein, as is customary in such transactions, “compensations” were distributed out of property belonging to neither of the contracting parties, at the cost of somebody else; it was agreed that Austria should have Bosnia and Herzegovina. Meanwhile the British Foreign Office, though it had just declaimed in indignant tones against the secret terms of San Stefano, made an agreement, equally secret, with Russia (May 30, 1878), concerning the points on which Great Britain would insist in the final adjustment. Through the wrongful action of an employee of the Foreign Office this agreement leaked out and a summary of it was published on May 31st. When questioned in the House of Lords, the Marquis of Salisbury, who at all times had a well-deserved reputation for sincerity, nevertheless qualified the statement in the _Globe_ as “wholly unauthenticated and not deserving of any confidence on the part of the House of Lords.” The full text of the agreement was published by the _Globe_ on June 14th, and when challenged by Lord Rosebery concerning his _dementi_, Lord Salisbury calmly stated: “I described it as unauthentic simply because it was so, and because no other adjective actually described it, and I shall be able to state why I so described it.” The explanation which followed was, however, quite lame, and consisted mainly in stating that the document as published did not give a complete view of the situation. The impression produced by these tactics was far from favorable. Lord Granville, with a great deal of justice, wanted to know “where the House of Lords would have been had it not been for the immoral action of the man who gave the secret treaty to the newspaper. They would have had blue books and copies of instructions, protocols and other documents, but they would have been perfectly duped as to the way in which the government had actually proceeded.”
But there followed another, a fourth secret treaty, growing out of the Turkish situation, an agreement between Great Britain and Turkey concluded on June 4th, at Constantinople. As a result of erroneous information having been telegraphed from Constantinople by Mr. Layard, the British envoy, to the effect that in spite of the armistice the Russians were moving on Constantinople, a large war credit was voted in the British House, although against the opposition of the Liberals under Gladstone and Bright. Orders were also given to the Indian Government to send troops to Cyprus. A secret treaty was then concluded in which Great Britain received a protectorate over Cyprus in return for the engagement on her part to protect the Asiatic domains of Turkey. Never was the blood of a nation without its own knowledge and consent risked in a more doubtful adventure than in this famous transaction of Lord Beaconsfield. Gladstone, on July 20th, analyzed the treaty as providing for three things: the occupation and annexation of Cyprus, the defense of Turkey in Asia against any attempt Russia may make (“to go two thousand miles from your own country, alone and single handed, in order to prevent Russia making war at any time upon Turkey in Asia”), and responsibility for the government of Turkish territory in Asia; and all that was undertaken without the consent and knowledge of the British people, to be done at their expense by the blood of their children. Mr. Gladstone concluded: “There is but one epithet which I think fully describes a covenant of this kind. I think it is an insane covenant.”
Disraeli had formerly said of Palmerston: “With no domestic policy, he is obliged to divert the attention of the people from the consideration of their own affairs to the distraction of foreign politics. His scheme of conduct is so devoid of all political principle that when forced to appeal to the people, his only claim to their confidence is his name.” The same language could with equal justice have been applied to Beaconsfield himself. His speeches in defense of his foreign policy are usually a superficial appeal to imperialist passion, and deal in such phrases as “What is our duty at this critical moment?” “To maintain the empire of England.” (Loud cheers.) “Empire” is taken for granted as covering everything desirable, but the actual relationship of these adventurous foreign policies to the welfare and true development of the English people is never reasoned out.
While Beaconsfield had opposed the first Afghan war, he readily changed his views when he came into power and began the second war in 1878 on the avowed ground that the Ameer had refused to receive a British mission. But with a sudden change of tactics, at a dinner at the Mansion House on November 9, Lord Beaconsfield solemnly announced that the war had been made because the frontier of India was “a haphazard and not a scientific one.” Yet a little before, when condemning the first Afghan war, he had described the frontiers of India as “a perfect barrier.” He did not give to any organization of public opinion a chance to influence him in this matter, or even to be heard. On December 9, Lord Derby said in the House of Lords: “We are discussing, and we know we are discussing, an issue upon which we have no real or practical influence.”
V
TRIPLE ALLIANCE DIPLOMACY AND MOROCCO
Toward the end of the nineteenth century the dominating development in the diplomacy of Europe was the actual formation of the two great alliances--the Triple Alliance created by Bismarck, and the Russo-French Alliance which had come into being in 1896 as a counterpoise to the former. The treaties upon which these alliances rested were made secretly; they were part of an authoritative policy based on the theory of balance of power. The texts of the Triple Alliance Treaty were not published until after the beginning of the Great War. The so-called Counter-Insurance Treaty with Russia by which Bismarck attempted to stabilize the situation and isolate France through a mutual neutrality agreement between Russia, Austria and Germany, was one of the most characteristic examples of complicated methods followed by the old diplomacy; it was, of course, also kept secret. When after Bismarck’s retirement the German Government did not renew this secret treaty, it made possible a fundamental change in the grouping of powers with the result that Russia, after a very short interval, identified herself with France in the Dual Alliance.
While Bismarck had been in control of German diplomacy, the main lines of German foreign policy were kept quite clear and their general direction was definite, no matter how complicated and indirect were the means frequently applied to carry it out. Emperor William II sought to free himself from the tutelage of the powerful Chancellor, but from then on the orientation of German diplomacy was far from definite. No one could be clear where its main objective lay; it seemed to seek expansion of influence in Asia Minor, the Far East, Morocco, South Africa, and almost everywhere, even with the inclusion of South America. Germany appeared to have many irons in the fire, although meanwhile she did not make much progress in any specific direction. This uncertainty of her diplomatic aims in an increasing manner aroused the apprehension of her neighbors; none of them felt any assurance about what Germany actually wanted. That her actual wants may not have been unreasonable, that she herself apparently did not know exactly which of her interests should predominate, did not help matters; all those who had more possessions than she felt themselves endangered, and a general suspicion and lack of confidence resulted.
In the years after the Chino-Japanese war the German Government showed a great desire to play a prominent part in Far Eastern affairs. Thus, it took the lead in bringing about the joint intervention of Russia, France and Germany, which obliged Japan to surrender Port Arthur, a part of the spoils of war just taken from China. The three powers who had thus come to the rescue, however, forthwith proceeded to exact from China an enormous commission for their good offices, and forced her to make to them grants of lease-holds and other concessions, in which was included the very territory that they had rescued from Japan. In this keen onset, which amounted to an attempt to divide up the Chinese Empire, Great Britain in her turn also participated. The Far Eastern situation was rendered decidedly unstable, and the frantic and unorganized resistance of the Boxer levies was the result.
After the settlement of these troubles, in 1901, the German Government, as we now know, tentatively suggested the formation of an alliance including Great Britain and Japan. This proposal shows how far German diplomacy at the time had departed from the fundamentals of policy under Bismarck. Japan proceeded most assiduously to work on this suggestion, but Germany was left out when the highly important Anglo-Japanese Alliance was secured by the Japanese Minister in London. Negotiations between Great Britain and Japan were carried on with the greatest secrecy. Lord Lansdowne himself seems at one time to have been very anxious for prompt action; he said to Count Hayashi, as reported by the latter, that “there was great danger in delay, as the news of the proposed treaty might leak out and objections might then be raised.”
It is significant that while Lord Lansdowne and Count Hayashi were in the depth of their negotiations, Marquis Ito, on his return journey from the United States, proceeded to Russia and, entirely in opposition to the express judgment of Count Hayashi, “plunged into conversations on the most delicate of matters” at St. Petersburg. In fact, the Japanese Government allowed almost identical secret negotiations to be carried on in London and St. Petersburg at the same time. Count Hayashi considered this procedure as implying “a lack of faith and a breach of honor.” When the Anglo-Japanese treaty had been actually signed it was, through the indiscretion of some official, published in Japan three days too soon. The Japanese Foreign Office promptly denied its existence, and Baron Rosen, the Russian Minister at Tokyo, who no doubt knew of the Ito negotiations at St. Petersburg, very emphatically denied the very possibility of such a treaty. The effect on Russia of the truth when it became known there, can be readily imagined. In the Anglo-Japanese treaty, England, which had recently joined in the solemn guarantee of the integrity of China and of the independence of Korea, made engagements scarcely consistent with either.
Lord Rosebery, in a public address, October, 1905, expressed his sense of the great importance of this treaty. “The treaty,” he said, “is an engine of tremendous power and tremendous liability. Whatever else is certain, this at least is sure, that it will lead to countless animosities, many counter intrigues, and possibly hostile combinations. But I want to point out to you the enormous importance of the engagements in which this treaty involves you, the reactions which it will cause elsewhere, and to bid you to be vigilant and prepared, and not negligent, as sometimes you are, of the vast bearings of your foreign policy.”
The German Emperor, having failed to obtain a treaty with England, now turned to his Russian cousin with the design of inducing him to make an alliance. The Willy-Nicky correspondence which was published by the Russian Revolutionary Government in 1917, as well as the memoirs of Isvolsky, give us a complete insight into the action of William II in this matter. The correspondence shows that Emperor William neglected no means of arousing resentment and suspicion of England in the mind of Nicholas, particularly in attempting to show a complicity of England with Japan in the war against Russia. In November, 1904, William proposed the immediate signature by Russia, without the knowledge of France, of a defensive treaty of alliance, evidently directed against Great Britain. France was to be invited to join _after_ the signature by Germany and Russia. The Czar, however, insisted that he could not entertain this proposal without first submitting it to his ally. William, in a long telegram, argued insistently upon the danger of informing France before the signature. He said: “Only the absolute, undeniable knowledge that we are both bound by the treaty to give mutual aid to each other, can induce France to exercise pressure upon England to remain tranquil and in peace, for fear of placing France in a dangerous situation. Should France know that a German-Russian agreement is simply in preparation and not yet signed, she would immediately inform England. England and Japan would then forthwith attack Germany.” Therefore, William concluded that if the Czar should persist in refusing to sign the treaty without the previous consent of France, it would be better not to attempt making an agreement at all. He stated that he had spoken only to Prince Buelow about it, and that as undoubtedly the Czar had spoken only to Count Lamsdorff, the foreign minister, it would be easy to keep it an absolute secret. He then congratulated the Czar on having concluded a secret agreement of neutrality with Austria. As a matter of fact, Count Lamsdorff had not been informed by the Czar of the Emperor’s proposal.