Europe's Last Summer (22 page)

Meanwhile, at Potsdam, Szögyéni gave Kaiser Wilhelm the two documents that Hoyos had brought with him. The foreign office memorandum concluded by saying that it had been written before the murder of the Archduke and had been confirmed in its analysis by that event. The covering letter was in a more personal and moving vein. Both documents focused largely on Romania, warning of its increasing closeness to Serbia and to Russia. Neither called for specific action, although a stated objective was to be the elimination of Serbia as "a factor of political power in the Balkans."

Wilhelm began the discussion by saying that he would have to consult the Chancellor. After lunch, however, pressed to say more, he did so. He pledged
Germany's unconditional support for Austria-Hungary in whatever it chose to do in its conflict with Serbia. He gave what historians have called a "carte blanche," or a
"blank check." He said he would back the Dual Monarchy even if Russia intervened. He warned his guest, however, that Austria must strike quickly. He then met with the Chancellor and with such of his military advisers as could be found at short notice in summertime, and did so again the following morning. A consensus emerged in support of Wilhelm's decision. Even the Chancellor was in agreement.

According to the latest scholarship, it was mainly Chancellor Bethmann Hollweg who worked out the terms of the German response. A career civil servant, fifty-seven years old, he had spent a career trying to restrain powerful forces and intemperate personalities.

As Chancellor for five years, he had felt the pressure of army officers who believed war with Russia to be inevitable, and who advocated a preemptive strike before the Russians were ready. He was exposed also to the countervailing pressure from Tirpitz to delay going to war until the distant point when the German fleet could deter Britain. Bethmann was aware that the Kaiser, no matter what he said, in the end usually opted for peace.

Now there was the July 4 written inquiry from Vienna as to whether Germany would protect Austria-Hungary against Russia if Austria-Hungary tried to crush Serbia. What the Austrians wanted to do was not spelled out in writing. It was not clear that they had the nerve to do anything at all. But both sides—Berlin and Vienna—were worried, as it turned out, about what might happen if the requested guarantee were not given.

Each side was conscious of its international isolation. Each was afraid of losing its only real ally. In German government circles one concern was that, after Franz Joseph died, the Hapsburg Empire could disintegrate. Another concern was that, as in the Moroccan crisis of 1911, the Dual Monarchy would not back Germany in its quarrels; it would fight only in its own. In Austria-Hungary, on the other hand, some worried that Germany would walk away from an ally that proved useless because it lacked the courage to fight at all.

The essence of the consensus that developed among the Germans on July 5–6 was that circumstances now were favorable to a bold design: that Austria-Hungary could deal with its Serbian problem without risking a larger war, provided that Vienna struck swiftly. The German response to the Hoyos mission, according to Berghahn's authoritative work, bore the stamp of Bethmann, who apparently devised it. It was Berlin's plan (though the world was to be kept from knowing this) that Vienna undertook to follow. The plan was for Austria to
strike rapidly, crush Serbia, and present Europe with
a fait accompli.

On July 6, Bethmann confirmed to the Austrians the Kaiser's secret commitment to support Austria in case of war.

Most historians have condemned the German pledge as reckless.
Samuel Williamson, a leading scholar of Austria-Hungary's role in the origins of World War I, writes: "Germany, by its pledges, had surrendered the direction and the pace of the July crisis" to Austria.

Yet the check may not have been entirely blank. The Germans may have believed that it was their own plan—a quick strike—that Austria would carry into effect, so they were not really turning over decision-making to Vienna. Then, too, there were qualifications to Germany's pledge—or at least Kaiser Wilhelm may have believed that they were implicit. The guarantee was issued in the context of several years of warfare in the Balkans during which Austria already had asked at least three times for the statement of support that Hoyos had received, eliciting one yes and two noes. The Kaiser had certain preconditions in mind for pledging full support to Austria-Hungary in its continuing conflicts with Serbia, preconditions that become clearer if viewed within the context of 1912–14 rather than of 1914 alone.

• Austria-Hungary had to be seen—at least by the German people, and preferably by all of Europe—as the provoked party. That, in Wilhelm's view, had not been the case in the early autumn of 1912 or the late spring of 1914 but had been true in the late autumn of 1912—and now was true again because of the Sarajevo killings.
  
• Austria-Hungary had to act by itself and with lightning speed.
  
• The Kaiser clearly believed that Austria intended to punish Serbia for the killings. He either was not told or did not understand that the Dual Monarchy proposed to destroy Serbia—a goal that Wilhelm had blocked in the past when it was openly avowed.
  
• Circumstances had to be such that Russia, France, and England were unlikely to intervene. That is what the Kaiser and much of his entourage believed to be the case in July 1914. Bethmann, who was designated to watch over the operation against Serbia on behalf of Germany, understood that there was a risk of igniting a conflagration, but believed it to be only a slight risk. Wilhelm believed that for all practical purposes there was no risk at all.
  
• The Kaiser's conviction was that the crisis would pass quickly: "that the situation would be cleared up within a week, because of Serbia's backing down."
  
• Alternatively, Wilhelm explained to one of his naval officers, "the Austrian government will demand the most far-reaching satisfaction from Serbia and will, as soon as this is not given, move its troops into Serbia." As he saw it, there would be a quick Hapsburg military occupation of Belgrade, the Serb capital, which was conveniently located on the river that formed the Austro-Hungarian frontier, followed by an imposed peace treaty forcing Serbia to become an Austrian ally.
  

On July 5–6 neither the Kaiser nor his advisers believed that they were risking much by extending their guarantee. Erich von Falken-hayn, Prussian minister of war, was not convinced that Vienna "was really in earnest" or "had taken any firm resolution." Germany risked nothing because in all likelihood it would never be called upon to make good on its guarantee. The consensus was that "the Russians— though friends of Serbia—will not join in after all." The Kaiser said to Szogyéni that Russia "was not by any means prepared for war," and he told his military advisers that France would "scarcely let it come to a war" because it still lacked heavy artillery. Moreover, he did not believe that the Czar would enter a war on the side of regicides.
Falkenhayn asked if additional preparations should be made for a war involving the Great Powers, and Wilhelm said no.

Germany's military leaders had made it clear that, in any case, they were prepared for all eventualities. The Kaiser and his generals may have supported the blank check decision for opposite reasons. He was in favor of it because he believed that war would not result from it, while some of them may have been in favor of it because it raised the possibility that a war
would
result from it.

So it was that, three weeks after refusing to pledge unconditional support to the living Franz Ferdinand, Kaiser Wilhelm avowed such support to the cause of the dead Franz Ferdinand. What had changed was the death of the Archduke. Wilhelm was not alone in this; the leaders of other countries felt the same way. Europe's sympathies now would be against Serbia and with the Austrians—if they struck back immediately, and if they acted alone rather than in collusion with Germany.

But the
lies—or at least misleading statements—told by the Austrian and German governments threatened to catch up with them.

Austria-Hungary lied when it claimed to be striking back for the murder of the Archduke. In fact, the killings at Sarajevo had relatively little to do with the Hapsburg desire to crush Serbia. What gave away Austria's lie in the first instance was that it did not attack immediately, which is what one does when one strikes out in anger or in self-defense. Alternatively, one would pursue a full judicial inquiry to its conclusion, and then publish its results to the world, which Vienna lacked the patience to do.

The fact—known now, though not then—that the memo submitted to the Kaiser in support of the plan to go to war was the same memo that had been prepared before the murders in Sarajevo shows that it did not arise from that event.

Austria did not play its part very well. Its behavior in the weeks that followed did nothing to persuade Europe that it was primarily motivated by a desire to avenge the slain Archduke. Disbelief crept over Europe. Vienna's claims appeared less and less credible in the ensuing weeks.

To Germany, the Austrian representatives apparently gave the impression that they would do what the Kaiser insisted upon: act with lightning speed, finishing the matter in a week or two or three.

The Germans counted on it, but the Hapsburg Empire was incapable of fulfilling this expectation. It was another misstatement that was apt to catch up with the Austrians, though perhaps they themselves did not realize they could not perform as promised.

Then there were the Germans, not perhaps lying, but showing a want of candor. The Kaiser and many of his men were certain that none of the other Great Powers of Europe would intervene to halt the expected Austrian strike. They committed to ward off France and Russia in the firm belief that they never would be called upon to do so. They were signing a check that they believed would never be cashed.

CHAPTER 26: THE GREAT DECEPTION

In collusion with one another, each of the two parties now played out their assigned roles. Austria decided—apparently acting by itself and spontaneously—to claim to be bringing the murderers and their Serbian sponsors to justice. Striking out in a show of righteous wrath, the Hapsburg armies would be punishing the guilty and also exercising a right of self-defense against further attacks staged from Serbia. Europe, even if it did not applaud, would at least admit that the Austrians had every right to be doing what they were doing.

It was vital that the world should not know of Germany's role or the Kaiser's guarantee. Certainly the two allies acted as though they believed secrecy to be essential. They lied repeatedly in the weeks to come, breaching the trust that was the hallmark of European diplomacy in an earlier age.

Had Germany's participation been discovered in time, Europe would have recognized that Austria was not pursuing the objectives it claimed. It was not avenging a murder victim; it was using the murder as a cloak under which to set back Russia in the Balkans. Europe would have seen what Austria intended was not to punish Serbia but to destroy it; not to defeat Serbia, but to wipe it off the map.

And the world would have realized that Germany was not, like France or Italy, an innocent bystander, but a full participant in Austria's project. The German-speaking combine was not seeking justice for the slain Archduke; instead it was engaging in a power play intended to alter the balance of power in the Balkans in their favor.

So Austria had to attack and subjugate Serbia before anybody fully realized that anything was afoot. Europe had to be lulled into believing that Austria was going to do nothing at all until weeks of judicial inquiry had concluded with the fixing of responsibility on the guilty parties. Unaware of what was planned, Europe would take no precautions. To dupe Europe, the leaders of Germany and Austria would have to become play actors.

It long had been the custom of Europe's leaders to take summer holidays. In early July, Berchtold had the notion (as did Bethmann) of lulling the European world into a sense of illusory security by pretending to follow their normal July schedules. Berchtold told his war minister and his army chief of staff to go away on vacations "to prevent any disquiet." Emperor Franz Joseph resumed his holiday. Chancellor Bethmann attempted the same ruse and made a show of being at his country estate. Tirpitz was vacationing in the Black Forest. Moltke was at the famous spa of Carlsbad, taking the waters. The foreign minister was on his honeymoon. Moltke's and Tirpitz's deputies were on holiday. So was the minister of war.

The Germans, once installed in their vacation retreats, seem to have done their best to remain there and to look innocent. On the advice of the Prime Minister, Kaiser Wilhelm reluctantly went off on his scheduled cruise, though he found the whole exercise in deception "childish!" It seems not to have occurred to him at the time that his Chancellor was dispatching him on his voyage in order to get him out of the way.

The special oddity of July 1914 therefore was that those fateful activities that were going on were not visible. It was like a play in which everything of importance happens offstage.

Early in the morning of Monday, July 6, before embarking, the Kaiser sent for several officers to deliver messages for him.
Admiral Eduard von Capelle, Tirpitz's deputy, received a phone call between 7:00 and 8:00 a.m. summoning him. He found Wilhelm in the garden of his palace. Capelle recalled: "The Emperor walked up and down with me for a short while and told me briefly of the occurrences of the day before"—the blank check to Austria, an account of which Capelle apparently was to give to Tirpitz. The Kaiser "did not believe in serious warlike developments. According to his view, the Czar would not in this case place himself on the side of regicides. Besides that, Russia and France were not prepared for war. (The Emperor did not mention England.) On the advice of the Imperial Chancellor, he was going to start on the journey to Northland, in order not to create any uneasiness."