Dreadnought, Britain, Germany and the Coming of the Great War
For three weeks, the Chancellor lived in limbo, hoping that William might change his mind. On July 14, the announcement came: Prince von Bulow, who was resigning as Imperial Chancellor, would receive for his services the Order of the Black Eagle set in diamonds. That night, the Kaiser invited himself to dinner at Bulow's table. William presented to Princess von Bulow a bouquet of roses which he said he had picked himself; he also offered her an enameled portrait of himself set in diamonds. His remarks over dinner were less generous. When the Princess said she was sad at what had happened, the Kaiser replied, "I feel even worse than you do. I've fought against it tooth and nail, but Bernhard was determined to go." Princess von Bulow mentioned the Reichstag tax vote as the reason for her husband's resignation. William disagreed. "You mustn't think that the… Death Duties are what made Bernhard retire," he said. "The real reason was the events of last November. You see, those fellows let me know privately that they didn't really mind the death duties. They overthrew him because they didn't think he showed enough zeal defending his Imperial Master." What, asked the Princess, did the Emperor think her husband should have done in November? "He ought to have declared in the Reichstag: T won't have any more of this insolent speech about the Emperor. How dare you speak like this? Quick march! Get out!' "
William evolved different versions of his role in Bulow's departure. In his Memoirs, he recorded, "I decided to acquiesce in the wish of Prince Bulow to grant his request for retirement." Soon after the resignation, he explained to his entourage that the Chancellor was becoming senile and could not remember one day what he had said the day before. To the King of Wurttemberg, standing under the same tree in the garden of Sans Souci where the Kaiser had held his last interview with the fallen Chancellor, William boasted: "This is where I gave that sweep the boot!"
CHAPTER 38 Naval Talks and Bethmann-Hollweg
As Kaiser William was enjoying "dear old sport" in Windsor Park, basking in the cheers of London crowds, proclaiming friendship at the Guildhall, and being "soothed and refreshed" by Colonel Stuart-Wortley and his friends at Highcliffe Castle, the German Admiralty was preparing a new Supplementary Navy Law. The useful life of battleships, set by the Navy Law of 1898 at twenty-five years, was to be reduced to twenty years, after which a new, replacement ship would be laid down. To effect the new law, the 1906 program of two dreadnoughts a year, increased to three in 1907, would increase to four dreadnoughts annually. For four years-1908, 1909, 1910, and 1911-three battleships and one battle cruiser were to be authorized. In 1912, when these sixteen capital ships were built or building, the program would drop back to two a year. In March 1908, the Reichstag passed this Supplementary Navy Law.
The new German Navy Law alarmed the British government. The Liberals, in power for two years in 1908, had attempted to diminish armaments costs to devote more money to social programs. There had been no effort to reach an understanding with Germany on shipbuilding; instead, Campbell-Bannerman had tried to lead by example. In 1906 and 1907, the four dreadnoughts a year of the Unionist program had been cut to three a year. In 1908, British dreadnought building had been cut even further, to two a year. The Germans were moving in the opposite direction. It was disheartening; surely the Germans understood that no British government, Unionist or Liberal, could permit a potential enemy to equal or surpass British naval strength. German shipbuilding could only provoke increased British building and a consequent waste of money by both countries. Surely, rational discussion could persuade the government in Berlin to put a reasonable limit on its naval ambitions.
One British Cabinet Minister acutely affected by the new German Navy Law was David Lloyd George, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who would have to find the money to pay for any increase in the size of the British fleet. Sir Edward Grey decided to put the Chancellor in touch with Count Metternich, the German Ambassador to England; Lloyd George could then express his views in person to a representative of the German government. On July 14, 1908, Grey invited Lloyd George and Metternich to lunch at the Foreign Office.
Count Paul Wolff-Metternich was an Anglophile. A Rhineland aristocrat and a Roman Catholic, he had first arrived in London in 1900 to assist the Ambassador, Count Hatzfeldt, who was gradually succumbing to emphysema. In November 1901, when Hatzfeldt died, Metternich-as envisaged-slipped smoothly into the post which he was to hold for ten years. The Kaiser, introducing his new representative to his uncle, then Prince of Wales, in 1900, called Metternich "no ordinary man. He is by conviction a staunch friend of England and was chosen by me on that account. But he is at the same time a trusted and true friend of mine, enjoying my fullest confidence." Metternich, a bachelor, was little seen in London society and, although a niece lived with him to act as his hostess, during his term the immense German Embassy at 9, Carlton House Terrace, was closed to music, dancing, and laughter. Nevertheless, the Ambassador held the respect of both the British and German governments. He had, said Bulow, "an open mind for the… enormous latent power of the British Empire. The underestimation of this power was an error particularly deep-rooted… in Prussian military and aristocratic circles." Sir Edward Grey respected Metternich's professionalism: "I always felt, with Metternich," wrote Grey, "that whatever I said would be faithfully reported by him; that no chance and unintentional slip of mine… would be distorted or misrepresented."
In conversation at the Foreign Office lunch, Grey and Lloyd George emphasized that Anglo-German relations hinged on the naval competition. Ruinous expenditure for battleships would not improve Germany's relative position, they argued, because "every Englishman would spend his last penny to preserve" British supremacy at sea. But the shipbuilding race and the waste of millions of pounds and marks would embitter relations. German fears of a British attack and arguments that a fleet was needed to deter such an attack were groundless; Lloyd George jokingly reminded Metternich of Bismarck's quip that, if an English army landed on German soil, he would "leave it to the police to arrest" it. Lloyd George suggested that a slowing of the tempo of German battleship construction would be the most effective way of reassuring English public opinion. Britain, he said, would be "most ready to meet Germany half way in establishing a joint basis for curtailment of the fleet building on both sides."
The Kaiser, who regarded the Fleet as his private preserve, treated any advice that it be limited as a personal insult, an attack on his prerogative. Across the margins of Metternich's dispatch he scribbled: "Such insolent talk has never been heard from England"; "First-class cheek!"; "We shall never be dictated to as to how our armament should be constituted"; "We should look upon that as a declaration of war"; "No! There will be no talk about that at all!" At the end of the letter, William let his feelings flow at length:
Bravo! Metternich! Has done his business very well, except in one point, which is the most important. The Ambassador has overlooked entirely that he was not permitted, even if entirely non-committally and only as a private opinion, to [agree] to the insolent demands of the English Ministers to make their peacefulness dependent on the diminution of our sea force. Through that he has put himself on a very dangerous slope. I am sorry for him because of that. It must be pointed out to him that I do not wish a good understanding with England at the expense of the extension of the German fleet. If England only intends graciously to hold out her hand to us with the indication that we should curtail our fleet, then this is an excessive impudence, which contains a great insult for the German people and its Kaiser, and which should be refused a limine by the Ambassador! By the same rights France and Russia could then demand a curtailment of our land force. As soon as one allows any foreign Power under any pretext whatsoever to have something to say about our own armaments, then one may retire, like Portugal and Spain! The German fleet is not built against anybody and not against England either! But according to our needs! This has been said quite clearly in the Navy Law and has remained unchanged for eleven years! This law is being carried out to the very last tittle: whether the British like it or no
t does not worry us. If they want a war, they must start it, we are not afraid of it!
(Signed) wilhelm r.i.
Two weeks later, Metternich invited Grey and Lloyd George to the German Embassy. The two English ministers returned to their original theme: "The naval question [was] the central point of German-English relations." "Mr. Lloyd George," Metternich reported to Berlin, "then returned to his pet idea, the slackening down in the speed of naval construction and exhorted me to make use of the time during which the peace-loving Liberal Government was at the helm." The Kaiser's colorful marginalia continued violent: "This is talk which until now has been only used against creatures like China or Italy! It is unheard of!"; "If England want to have war, just let her start it, we'll give her what for!" In his long footnote to this second report, William vented his anger on Metternich:
"This sort of conversation as it has been carried on between Lloyd George and Metternich is utterly unworthy and provoking for Germany! I must beg him in future to have nothing to do with that sort of expectoration. Here he has accepted very patiently as a listener the opinions and orders of English statesmen, and has only ventured protests which had no effect at all. He should give these gentlemen… an answer like 'Go to Hell,' etc. That would bring these fellows to their senses again. That Lloyd George even dared to come out with an order for defining the speed of OUR building is beyond the limit, but is a result of Metternich putting himself during the first discussions on the dangerous path of 'a possibility not being out of the question.' The clever British are trying to hook him, and sooner or later they will pull the string and drag him out; despite this 'private talk,' 'non-committal character of expression of opinion,' etc.! He should ab ovo refuse everything with such remarks as, 'No country allows itself to be dictated to or admonished by another country about the size and kind of its armaments.' 'I refuse to discuss such a matter.'…
"Metternich should give that sort of fanatic a kick in the ass; he is too soft!"
Despite the Kaiser's anger, Metternich remained at his post. He continued to report his observations and opinions, attempting to explain the British perspective to Berlin: "The English are afraid of our fleet because we are their nearest neighbors and we appear to them more efficient than other people…" The Kaiser growled: the English "will just have to get used to our fleet. And from time to time, we must assure them that it is not directed against them."
The Kaiser did not wish to fight the Royal Navy and he never dreamed of invading the British Isles. He was building a fleet to proclaim Germany's Imperial grandeur, to make the world listen respectfully to the German Emperor, and, above all, to earn England's approval and reduce German independence on England's favor on the oceans of the world. Because the British Navy was so much stronger, he regarded British complaints about the size of his fleet as impertinent and offensive. In August 1908, William forcefully expressed these feelings to Sir Charles Hardinge, Under Secretary of the Foreign Office, who was traveling with King Edward VII in Germany. After lunch at Kronberg, Hardinge's conversation with the Kaiser turned to naval limitation. Because, up to that point, the Kaiser had been so amiable, Hardinge forgot himself and said, "But you must build slower." Instantly, William drew himself up, and announced that no one could use the word "must" to a German Emperor. If England insisted on German limitation, he said, "then we shall fight. It is a question of national honor and dignity." Later, William reported the scene to Bulow: "I looked him straight in the eye. Sir Charles became scarlet, made me a bow, begged pardon for his words and urged me expressly to forgive and forget and treat them as remarks made inadvertently in a private conversation." After dinner, the Kaiser continued, "when I gave him the Order of the Red Eagle, First Class, he was ready to eat out of my hand… My frank words, when I had showed him my teeth had not failed in their effect. You must always treat Englishmen thus."
Bulow, as Chancellor, had the constitutional right to have final say about the foreign policy of the Empire. He had supported the building of the fleet; he owed his appointment as State Secretary and Chancellor to his acceptance of William's conviction that Germany's future lay on the water. He had embraced the Risk Theory, the Danger Zone, and the argument that once the Danger Zone was passed, the German Fleet would be a means of putting diplomatic pressure on Great Britain. Bulow also was aware of the political invulnerability of Tirpitz' relationship with the Kaiser. Any challenge to the Navy Minister would be hazardous; Bulow sensed that the one figure in the Reich government the Emperor would choose over him was Tirpitz. Accordingly, in the summer of 1908, when William was complaining bitterly about Metternich, Bulow re-pledged his faith in the fleet: "I beg Your Majesty not to doubt that I support Your Majesty's naval plans with heart as well as head," he wrote. "I know that the creation of the fleet is the task which history assigns Your Majesty."
Nevertheless, Bulow was impressed by Metternich's views. He respected the Ambassador's warnings that the acceleration in German dreadnought building was frightening the Liberal government and alienating English public opinion. He worried that the British Cabinet, goaded by Sir John Fisher, might authorize a pre-emptive attack on the young German Fleet. In November 1908, emboldened by his triumphant Daily Telegraph speech in the Reichstag, the Chancellor questioned Tirpitz. The English government and people were apprehensive about the German Fleet, he said, and the idea of preventive war was widely mentioned in the English press. Thus, "I must ask Your Excellency whether Germany and the German people can look forward to an English attack with quiet confidence."
Tirpitz waited three weeks to reply, before admitting that in view of the overwhelming superiority of the British Fleet, Germany would lose a naval war. But this, in Tirpitz' opinion, was an argument for increasing, not diminishing, the size of the German Fleet: "Our duty is to arm with all our might… Every new ship added to our battlefleet means an increase in the risk for England if she attacks us." Besides, Tirpitz continued, Metternich misunderstood the root of British anxiety and antagonism: it was not the building of the fleet, but German economic competition. Naval concessions would not remove this rivalry and lessen resentment. Tirpitz scorned talk of British attack: "The possibility of a preventive war is a scarecrow and a fiction of our diplomats [i.e., Metternich] to make people who resist them pliable." From London, Metternich contradicted Tirpitz: "The cardinal point of our relations with England lies in the growth of our fleet. It may not be pleasant for us to hear this, but I see nothing to be gained by concealing the truth."
This internal debate at the highest level of the German government continued through the winter and early spring of 1909. In Britain, the new German Navy Law with its four dreadnoughts a year, the fear that Germany was secretly accelerating, led to the celebrated Navy Scare. The result: Asquith's ingenious compromise of four ships now, four later if necessary. In Berlin, the Kaiser gradually recovered from his nervous collapse after publication of the Daily Telegraph interview. Bulow's reputation, at a peak after his Reichstag appearance on November 10, was in the descendant. "Feeling that [he] might soon cease to be Chancellor," he summoned a conference in the Chancellor's Palace on June 3, 1909. The subject was the naval question and the possibility of reaching an understanding with England. Metternich was summoned from London; Moltke, Chief of the General Staff; Bethmann-Hollweg, Vice Chancellor and future Chancellor; and Schoen, State Secretary for Foreign Affairs, were present along with Tirpitz. Bulow began with a defense of Metternich: the first duty of a representative abroad, he announced, is to report the truth. The Ambassador and the Navy Minister then traded familiar arguments, with Metternich asserting that the building of the German Fleet was the only cause of British annoyance and Tirpitz protesting that the cause was commercial rivalry. Bulow asked whether any shipbuilding ratio between Germany and England would be acceptable to Tirpitz. Tirpitz suggested three German dreadnoughts for four British. Metternich interjected that this would quickly lead to war. Bulow asked Tirpitz what Germany's chances would be in case of war. The Admiral repli
ed that "our Navy [is] not at present in a position to come out of a fight with England as victors." Moltke declared that, in that case, it seemed wise to try for an understanding based on slowing construction. Bethmann-Hollweg agreed. Bulow attempted to mollify Tirpitz by narrowing the scope of any potential agreement. He was not thinking of a permanent agreement with England, he said, only one long enough to get Germany through the Danger Zone without a preventive war. Asked how long the Danger Zone would last, Tirpitz replied, "Five to six years… say, in 1915, after the widening of the Kiel Canal, and the completion of the fortifications of Heligoland."
When Bulow reported the conference to the Kaiser, William "pooh-poohed my fears," said the Chancellor. "The English will never attack us alone," the Kaiser elaborated, "and at the moment they will not find allies." Nevertheless, on June 23, Bulow sent instructions to Metternich in London to begin to work towards "an entente on the Naval Question… provided it is combined with a general orientation of English policy in a sense more favorable to Germany." The following day, the Reichstag defeated Bulow's death-duties bill. Two days later, on board the Hohenzollern, the Chancellor offered his resignation, and on July 14 it was accepted.