In the World War | Page 3

negotiations between Germany and England respecting naval
disarmament, but never got beyond the first stage. England was no
readier for peace, and no more disposed to make advances than was
Germany, but she was cleverer and succeeded in conveying to the
world that she was the Power endangered by Germany's plans for
expansion.
I recollect a very telling illustration of the German and British points of
view, given to me by a prominent politician from a neutral state. This
gentleman was crossing the Atlantic on an American steamer, and
among the other travellers were a well-known German industrial
magnate and an Englishman. The German was a great talker and

preferred addressing as large an audience as possible, expatiating on the
"uprising" of Germany, on the irrepressible desire for expansion to be
found in the German people, on the necessity of impregnating the
world with German culture, and on the progress made in all these
endeavours. He discoursed on the rising prosperity of German trade in
different parts of the world; he enumerated the towns where the
German flag was flying; he pointed out with emphasis how "Made in
Germany" was the term that must and would conquer the world, and
did not fail to assert that all these grand projects were built on solid
foundations upheld by military support. Such was the German. When
my informant turned to the silent, quietly smiling Englishman and
asked what he had to say to it, he simply answered: "There is no need
for me to say anything, for I know that the world belongs to us." Such
was the Englishman. This merely illustrates a certain frame of mind. It
is a snapshot, showing how the German and the English mentality was
reflected in the brain of a neutral statesman; but it is symptomatic,
because thousands have felt the same, and because this impression of
the German spirit contributed so largely to the catastrophe.
The Aehrenthal policy, contrary to what we were accustomed to on the
Ballplatz, pursued ambitious plans for expansion with the greatest
strength and energy, thereby adding to the suspicions of the world
regarding us. For the belief gained credence that the Vienna policy was
an offshoot of that of Berlin, and that the same line of action would be
adopted in Vienna as in Berlin, and the general feeling of anxiety rose
higher. Blacker and blacker grew the clouds; closer and closer the
meshes of the net; misfortune was on the way.
2
I was in Constantinople shortly before the outbreak of war, and while
there had a lengthy discussion of the political situation with the
Markgraf Pallavicini, our most efficient and far-seeing ambassador
there. He looked upon the situation as being extremely grave. Aided by
his experience of a decade of political observations, he was able to put
his finger on the pulse of Europe, and his diagnosis was as follows: that
if a rapid change in the entire course of events did not intervene, we

were making straight for war. He explained to me that he considered
the only possibility of evading a war with Russia lay in our definitely
renouncing all claims to influence in the Balkans and leaving the field
to Russia. Pallavicini was quite clear in his own mind that such a
course would mean our resigning the status of a Great Power; but
apparently to him even so bitter a proceeding as that was preferable to
the war which he saw was impending. Shortly afterwards I repeated
this conversation to the Archduke and heir, Franz Ferdinand, and saw
that he was deeply impressed by the pessimistic views of Pallavicini, of
whom, like everyone else, he had a very high opinion. The Archduke
promised to discuss the question as soon as possible with the Emperor.
I never saw him again. That was the last conversation I had with him,
and I do not know whether he ever carried out his intention of
discussing the matter with the monarch.
The two Balkan wars were as summer lightning before the coming
European thunderstorm. It was obvious to anyone acquainted with
Balkan conditions that the peace there had produced no definite result,
and the Peace of Bucharest in 1913, so enthusiastically acclaimed by
Roumania, carried the germ of death at its birth. Bulgaria was
humiliated and reduced; Roumania and, above all, Serbia, enlarged out
of all proportion, were arrogant to a degree that baffles description.
Albania, as the apple of discord between Austria-Hungary and Italy,
was a factor that gave no promise of relief, but only of fresh wars. In
order to understand the excessive hatred prevailing between the
separate nations, one must have lived in the Balkans. When this hatred
came to an outburst in the world war the most terrible scenes were
enacted, and as an example it