Germany now faced the growing likelihood of war with Russia. German policy had been to encourage a localized Balkan war, punish a regicide state, and restore the fortunes of a crumbling ally. Russian intervention had been discounted. The Tsar’s army was considered unready and the Kaiser and his advisors had expected Russia to give way, as she had five years earlier in the Bosnian Crisis. The prospect was glittering: localization accomplished; general war avoided; Serbia crushed; Austria reborn; Russia stripped of her status as a Great Power; the balance of power in the Balkans and Europe realigned. Russian mobilization against Austria demolished this dream.
The prospect of a major war did not dishearten German and Austrian generals. On the contrary, Moltke, Conrad, and other military chiefs had long believed that war with Russia was inevitable and that sooner was better; every year the Slav Empire grew in strength. Bethmann no longer opposed this view, but he insisted—since war was imminent—that Russia be forced to mobilize first. The Chancellor worried about appearances in Germany and abroad. Inside the Reich, the socialists might refuse to fight. The sole danger that could rally German workers to the side of the Hohenzollerns was the threat of invasion by Slav hordes. “Russia must ruthlessly79 be put in the wrong,” Bethmann exhorted the Kaiser. The same need to fix blame on Russia affected the two alliance structures in Europe. Both the Triple Alliance and the Dual Alliance were defensive in nature. Italy’s adherence to the Triple Alliance, possibly even France’s honoring of the Dual Alliance, would stress Who Began the War. The issue would be particularly acute in England. The British, always reluctant to involve themselves in Continental quarrels, would certainly not be interested in a war begun in the Balkans in which Russia appeared to be attacking Germany. All these fruits, at home and abroad, could be gathered if Germany could somehow maneuver Russia into being first to proclaim general mobilization. This became the Chancellor’s objective.
Only Bethmann and Lichnowsky were concerned about the British reaction to these events. Germany and Austria had military preponderance on the Continent and the German General Staff had virtually guaranteed victory for the Triple Alliance in a purely European war. But the Chancellor, more prescient than his generals, shrank from a war involving the British Empire. Anything he could do to encourage Britain’s natural reluctance to become involved must be tried. The Chancellor’s hopes were battered on the evening of July 29, when Lichnowsky telegraphed that he had been summoned that afternoon by Sir Edward Grey. Thoroughly alarmed, the Foreign Secretary had told the German Ambassador that “if war breaks out,80 it will be the greatest catastrophe the world has ever seen.” To prevent war, Grey had proposed that, after occupying Belgrade, Austria halt and submit to mediation by Germany, Italy, France, and Britain. If Austria did not accept, Grey warned, British neutrality could not be counted upon. “The British Government... could stand aside81 as long as the conflict remained confined to Austria and Russia. But if... [Germany] and France should be involved, then the situation would immediately be altered and the British Government would... find itself forced to make up its mind quickly.”
Bethmann was shaken by this telegram. War between Germany and Russia was likely, and the Schlieffen plan called for beginning this war with a swift, overwhelming offensive against Russia’s ally, France. If, as Grey threatened, the involvement of France meant the likely intervention of England on France’s side, the outcome of the war was far less certain. Bethmann was now at the limit of his own physical endurance. “There is immense commotion82 in the Wilhelmstrasse. Nobody sleeps,” reported the Chancellor’s personal assistant. That night Bethmann did not go to bed. At 2:55 A.M., frightened by what he saw coming, he attempted to reverse the course of events in the Balkans. A telegram to Tschirschky informed the Ambassador that if Austria refused mediation, “England will be against us.83... Under these circumstances, we must urgently and impressively suggest to the... Vienna Cabinet the acceptance of mediation.” At three A.M. a second frantic telegram went to Tschirschky: “We, of course, are ready to fulfill84 the obligations of our alliance, but we must decline to be drawn wantonly into a world conflagration by Vienna without having any regard paid to our counsel.” Eighteen hours later, the desperate Chancellor telegraphed a third time: “If Vienna declines85 to give in in any direction... it will hardly be possible to place the guilt of the outbreak of war on Russia’s shoulders.... Vienna will be giving documentary proof that it absolutely wants a war, into which we shall be drawn while Russia remains free of responsibility. This would place us in the eyes of our own people in an untenable situation. Thus we can only urgently advise that Austria accept Grey’s proposal.”
It was too late. When Tschirschky carried Bethmann’s messages to Berchtold, the Austrian Foreign Minister listened silently, then coldly declared that “the restriction of Austrian military operations86 against Serbia” was “out of the question in view of the feeling in the Army and among the people.” On the morning of the thirty-first, Bethmann’s call for mediation was discussed by the Austro-Hungarian Cabinet. The German request that Austria submit to mediation was refused by setting three unfulfillable conditions: war against Serbia must be allowed to continue; all Russian mobilization must be stopped; Serbia must unconditionally accept all terms of the Austrian ultimatum. There was bitterness that Berlin, having urged Vienna for weeks to begin the war, should now demand that it be stopped. In the Austrian Cabinet minutes, the source of this reversal was falsely identified: “We had a very doubtful support87 in the German representative in London. Anything might sooner be expected from Prince Lichnowsky than that he would warmly represent our interests.”
Bethmann was becoming desperate. Twisting and turning to escape the implications of what was happening, the Chancellor made an impetuous move to ensure British neutrality. Near midnight on July 29, he summoned the British Ambassador, Sir Edward Goschen, to the Wilhelmstrasse and offered him a bargain. He understood, the Chancellor said, that “Great Britain would never allow88 France to be crushed.” But suppose Germany defeated France in war and then did not “crush” her? Would England remain neutral if the Reich guaranteed in advance the postwar territorial integrity of France and Belgium? (The Chancellor’s offer covered only the European homelands; Bethmann refused to promise that Germany would not divide the French and Belgian colonial empires in Africa.) Goschen forwarded the request to London, where it was described by Crowe as “astounding”89 and rejected by Grey as “dishonorable” and “a disgrace.”90
While the exhausted Chancellor struggled, the German generals became impatient. The Schlieffen plan did not envisage war against Russia alone, but against both parties to the Dual Alliance, Russia and France. On the Western Front, the distances were shorter, the enemy less numerous, the imponderables fewer. Accordingly, the German war plan called for hurling the bulk of the German Army against France, striving for a knockout blow and the seizure of Paris within six weeks, before the Russian colossus could be mobilized and set into motion. The fact that France had no current quarrel with Germany made no difference; on July 30, Jagow told Sir Edward Goschen that if Germany mobilized, France would be attacked. “He regretted this,”91 Goschen reported to London, “as he knew that France did not desire war, but it would be a military necessity.” As the days passed, the German generals worried that the Entente diplomats, with their attempts at mediation in Vienna, and their own Chancellor, with his demands that Russia must mobilize first, would scramble their own fine-tuned plans. Who started the war was of little concern to the generals; their concern was with who would win it. They began to take control.
On Wednesday, July 29, General von Moltke sent a long political memorandum to the Chancellor in which he characterized the Austrian march on Serbia as “a purely private quarrel”92 undertaken “to burn out with a glowing iron a cancer that has constantly threatened to poison the body of Europe.” Because “Russia has placed herself93 at the side of this criminal nation,” a “war which will annihilate for decades the civilization of almost all
Europe” was imminent, Moltke continued. Germany had no wish to participate in this war, but to turn her back on Austria would “violate the deep-rooted feelings94 of fidelity which are among the most beautiful traits of the German character.” That afternoon, at a Crown Council in Potsdam, War Minister General von Falkenhayn urged the Kaiser to proclaim “danger of war” (Kriegsgefahr). At Bethmann’s earnest pleading, William temporarily refused. Disgusted, Moltke sent his own telegram to Vienna, insisting to Conrad that Austria proceed immediately to full mobilization, promising that Germany would follow. On Thursday, July 30, the Emperor Franz Josef proclaimed full mobilization of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. That afternoon at Peterhof, Tsar Nicholas II gave way to pressure from his generals and ordered Russian general mobilization.95 By nightfall, this news was in Berlin. The German generals demanded a decision about German mobilization. Declaring that he still had not received official word from St. Petersburg, a haggard Bethmann put Moltke and Falkenhayn off for one more night. By noon the next day, he promised, he would give them an answer.
At 11:55 A.M. on Friday, July 31, the official telegram from Pourtalès arrived in the Wilhelmstrasse, where the political and military leaders of the German Empire were assembled. “General mobilization of the [Russian] army and fleet,” the telegram reported. “First day of mobilization July 31.” For what it was worth, Bethmann had won: the Russians had mobilized first. Together the Chancellor and the War Minister telephoned the Kaiser and asked for a proclamation of Kriegsgefahr. William complied. That afternoon, a German ultimatum addressed to St. Petersburg commanded the Tsar to demobilize within twelve hours and to “make us a distinct declaration96 to that effect.” Otherwise Germany would mobilize and declare war. A second ultimatum, more insulting, was sent to Paris: Berlin demanded to know whether France would remain neutral in the coming Russo-German war. If the answer was yes, Germany demanded that France hand over the fortresses of Toul and Verdun as security on her pledge of neutrality. (These great fortress systems anchored France’s defenses along her eastern frontier.) Paris was given eighteen hours to reply. Announcement of the German ultimatum to Russia (but not the ultimatum to France) was published in extra editions of Berlin newspapers on the night of July 31 as crowds milled about on the Unter den Linden.
At noon on Saturday, August 1, the German ultimatum to Russia expired without a reply from St. Petersburg. At 12:52 P.M., fifty-two minutes after the expiration of the ultimatum, Count Pourtalès was instructed to call on Count Sazonov and declare that Germany was at war with Russia. At five P.M. the Kaiser signed a decree of general mobilization, and at seven-ten P.M. Count Pourtalès handed Sazonov the German declaration of war. “The curses of the nations97 will be upon you,” Sazonov declared. “We are defending our honor,” Pourtalès replied. Then, he stumbled and wept. “So this is the end of my mission,” he said. Sazonov patted him on the shoulder and helped him out the door. “Goodbye, goodbye,” mumbled the elderly, heartbroken Ambassador.
War had begun in the east, but not in the west. That afternoon, a telegram from London arrived in Berlin. Lichnowsky said that he had spoken to Sir Edward Grey. The Foreign Secretary had asked whether, in response to a promise of French neutrality in a Russo-German war, Germany would refrain from attacking France. On his own authority, Lichnowsky had said yes. William had just signed the general mobilization order and given it to Moltke, who was driving from Potsdam back to Berlin. Excitedly, William sent an aide hurrying after Moltke to bring him back to the New Palace. Before the General arrived, the Kaiser telegraphed his cousin, King George V: “If France offers me neutrality98 which must be guaranteed by the British fleet and army, I shall of course refrain from attacking France and employ my troops elsewhere. I hope France will not become nervous. The troops on my frontier are in the act of being stopped by telephone and telegraph from crossing into France.” The last sentence referred to the sudden cancellation of the 16th Division’s planned occupation of Luxembourg as a preliminary to the invasion of France. Bethmann insisted that the army must not cross the border until a reply was received from King George, and William—without consulting Moltke—had commanded his own military aide to telephone the headquarters of the 16th Division and halt the operation.
When Moltke again stood before him, William announced to the astonished General, “Now we can go to war99 against Russia only. We simply march the whole of our army to the East.”
Moltke, witnessing the collapse of his entire war strategy, was “crushed.” “Your Majesty, it cannot be done,”100 he pleaded. “The deployment of millions cannot be improvised. If Your Majesty insists on leading the whole army to the East it will not be an army ready for battle but a disorganized mob.... These arrangements took a whole year of intricate labor to complete and once settled they cannot be altered.”
The Kaiser listened in frustration. “Your uncle would have given me101 a different answer,” he said to Moltke, a reproach, the General wrote later, which “wounded me deeply.”102 Moltke went back to General Staff Headquarters and “burst into tears103 of abject despair... I thought my heart would break.” When a staff officer brought him the order officially cancelling the Luxembourg foray, “I threw my pen down on the table and refused to sign. ‘Do what you want with this telegram,’ I said, ‘I will not sign it.’” At eleven that evening, Moltke was back at the palace, where he discovered the Kaiser wearing a military greatcoat over his nightshirt. Another telegram from Lichnowsky had revealed that the Ambassador had misinterpreted Sir Edward Grey’s meaning. “A positive proposal by England104 is, on the whole, not in prospect,” Lichnowsky had wired. The Kaiser greeted Moltke stiffly, said, “Now you can do what you like,”105 and went back to bed. Moltke attempted to pull himself together, but never entirely succeeded. “This was my first experience106 of the war,” he wrote later. “I never recovered from the shock of this incident. Something in me broke and I was never the same thereafter.”
The German ultimatum to France expired at one P.M. on August 1. At 1:05 P.M. the German Ambassador, Baron von Schoen, inquired at the Quai d’Orsay for France’s reply.
He was told coldly that “France would act107 in accordance with her interests.” At three-forty P.M. the French Army and Navy were mobilized. Germany understood that there would be no French neutrality; the Republic would stand by its Russian ally. The German response was automatic: “When the French Cabinet,108 on our inquiry... [replied] that France would act as its own interests required, we had no choice but to declare war on France,” said Bethmann.
Four Great Powers were now at war: Germany and Austria versus Russia and France. Italy managed to break free. On July 31, the Italian Council of Ministers voted for neutrality, explaining that neither “the letter nor the spirit109 of the Triple Alliance oblige... [Italy] to take part in a war that does not bear the character of a war of defense.” It was obvious to Rome that the war had been precipitated by Austria’s attack on Serbia, and the Italian government seized on this. Italy had always been fearful of exposing her long coastline to the British Navy; now, when it seemed possible that Britain would enter the war on the side of the Entente, Italy used the treaty language of the Triple Alliance to escape.
There was a final irony. Even as Germany declared war on Russia—ostensibly because Germany’s ally, Austria, was threatened by Russian mobilization—Russian and Austrian diplomats continued to negotiate. On July 27, Austria declared officially that it “does not seek any territorial acquisition110 in Serbia, and that it has no intention of making any attempt against the integrity of the Kingdom; its sole intention is that of assuring its own tranquillity.” Count Sazonov considered this a sufficient basis for talks.
Austria, despite Conrad’s strutting, did not want war with Russia. Austria’s hope had been that the Tsar would back down; Austria then would be able to proceed against the Serbs. The pace of events in Berlin alarmed Vienna. On August 1, the day Germany was declaring war on Russia, the Austrian Ambassador in St. Petersburg called on Sazonov to continue
Austro-Russian negotiations. The difference of interpretation as to what constituted a breach of Serbian sovereignty was discussed; after the meeting the Austrian Ambassador reported to Count von Berchtold that he believed the gap could be bridged. Sazonov meanwhile counselled his visitor that Vienna should not be alarmed by Russian mobilization. “There was no fear111 that the guns would go off by themselves,” said the Russian Foreign Minister, “and... the Russian Army... was so well-disciplined that the Tsar with one word could make it retire from the frontier.” That same morning, the Russian Ambassador in Vienna called on Count von Berchtold. He came, Berchtold noted, “in the most friendly manner112... he still hoped that it would be possible to settle the question at issue by direct negotiations.... [He] took his leave with the remark that between us and Russia there was really only a great misunderstanding.”
That evening, August 1, Vienna and St. Petersburg knew of the German declaration of war on Russia. Austro-Russian negotiations could not continue; Austria now had no choice but to follow her ally. During the next five days, while Germany was at war with Russia, Austria, originally the threatened party, remained at peace. A number of stern telegrams arrived from Berlin before, on August 6, Austria-Hungary finally declared war on Russia.