| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 25 October 1886 |
ENGELS TO PAUL LAFARGUE
IN PARIS
London, 25-26 October 1886
My dear Lafargue,
The Eastern affair is rather lengthy, and I shall be obliged to enter into a mass of detail in view of the absurdities which the French press, including the Cri,[1] has been disseminating on the subject, under the Russian patriotic influence.
In the winter of 1878[2] Disraeli sent 4 ironclads into the Bosphorus, this being sufficient to halt the Russian advance on Constantinople and to tear up the Treaty of San Stefano. For a time the Treaty of Berlin stabilised the situation in the Orient. Bismarck succeeded in effecting a settlement between the Russians and the Austrians, in accordance with which Austria was tacitly given dominion over Serbia, while Bulgaria and Eastern Roumelia were to be left exposed to the predominant influence of Russia. In other words, if the Russians were later permitted to take Constantinople, Austria would get Salonika and Macedonia.
But on top of that, Bosnia was allotted to Austria, just as the greater part of Poland proper had been handed over to the Prussians and Austrians by Russia in 1794, only to be taken back by the latter in 1814. Bosnia represented a constant drain on Austria, a bone of contention between Hungary and Western Austria and, in particular—proof, where Turkey was concerned, that the fate awaiting it at the hands of Austria no less than at those of Russia, would be that suffered by Poland. Henceforward there could be no question of mutual trust between Turkey and Austria — a tremendous victory, this, for Russia.
Though Serbia's sympathies were Slavophil and, consequently, Russophil it had, since its emancipation, looked to Austria for all its means of bourgeois development. Its young men went to university in Austria, its bureaucratic system, its statute books, its judicial procedure and its schools all conformed to the Austrian model, as was only natural. But Russia thought it necessary to prevent the same thing happening in Bulgaria and, besides, had no desire to act as Austria's cat's paw there. Thus, from the very outset, Bulgaria was organised along the lines of a Russian satrapy. The administration was Russian, as were the officers and non-commissioned officers in the army, the whole body of government officials and, indeed, the entire system, while Battenberg, imposed upon it as satrap, was a cousin of Alexander Ill's.
Russian domination, direct at first, then indirect, succeeded in stifling, within less than 4 years, all the sympathy Bulgaria had once felt for Russia, whole-hearted and enthusiastic though that sympathy had been. The people increasingly jibbed at the insolence of their 'liberators', so that even Battenberg, a man of weak character and devoid of political ideas, who asked nothing better than to serve the Tsar on condition that he himself was accorded some measure of respect— even Battenberg was becoming increasingly rebellious.
In the meantime things were taking their course in Russia. The government had succeeded, by draconian measures, in temporarily dispersing and disorganising the Nihilists. But this could not last forever; what was needed was to gain the support of public opinion and to distract people's minds from social and political miseries at home — in other words, a bit of chauvinist phantasmagoria. And just as, under Louis Napoleon, the left bank of the Rhine had served to divert revolutionary fervour to foreign policy matters, so, too, in Russia the image of a Constantinople subdued, of oppressed Turkish Slavs 'liberated' to form part of a great federation under Russian leadership, was conjured up before the eyes of the anxious and restive people. But merely to evoke that phantasmagoria was not enough; something would have to be done to make it enter the domain of reality.
Circumstances were favourable. The annexation of Alsace-Lorraine had thrown an apple of discord between France and Germany so that those two powers appeared to cancel each other out. Austria on her own was scarcely in a position to fight Russia, since her most effective offensive weapon — an appeal to the Poles — must, thanks to Prussia, remain permanently in the scabbard. And the occupation— or theft — of Bosnia constituted another Alsace between Austria and Turkey. Italy fell to the highest bidder, that is to say Russia, whose stake was the Trentino and Istria, if not also Dalmatia and Tripoli. And England? Gladstone, that peaceable Russophil, had hearkened to Russia's siren call and had occupied Egypt in time of peace,[3] thus ensuring not only continual discord between England and France, but also and into the bargain the impossibility of any alliance between the Turks and the English who had just despoiled them by appropriating Egypt, a Turkish fief. Moreover, Russia's preparations in Asia were sufficiently advanced to keep the English, in case of war, fully occupied in India. Never had the moment presented so many and such favourable opportunities to the Russians; their diplomacy was proving victorious all. along the line.
The revolt of the Bulgarians against Russian domination provided the pretext for instituting a campaign. In the summer of 1885 a carrot was dangled before the Bulgarians of North and South — the possibility of unification, as pledged by the Peace of San Stefano and revoked by the Treaty of Berlin. They were told that, if they again entrusted themselves to the liberating arms of Russia, that country would accomplish her mission by accomplishing the said unification, but the Bulgarians, for their part, must first rid themselves of Battenberg. Duly forewarned, the latter reacted with unwonted promptitude and vigour. Off his own bat and on his own account he effected the unification which the Russians had intended to bring about in his despite. From that moment it was implacable war between him and Russia.
To begin with, that war was conducted covertly and by indirect means. The small Balkan states were reminded of Louis Bonaparte's splendid doctrine which held that, when a nation hitherto disunited— say Italy or Germany—constituted itself a nation, other powers— say France — were entitled to territorial compensation. Serbia swallowed the bait and went to war with Bulgaria. Russia's triumph was the greater in that the war, instigated by her in her own interests, appeared to the rest of the world to be taking place under the auspices of Austria, which had failed to prevent it for fear this should bring the Russian party to power in Serbia.— Russia, for her part, disrupted the Bulgarian army by recalling all its senior officers, including battalion commanders.
But contrary to all expectations the Bulgarians, deprived of Russian officers and with two men to the enemy's three, inflicted a resounding defeat on the Serbs and won the respect and admiration of an astonished Europe. For those victories there were two reasons. In the first place Alexander Battenberg, though a weak politician, was a good soldier who waged war as he had learned to do in the Prussian school, whereas the Serbs, in both strategy and tactics, turned to Austria for their model. Secondly, the Serbs had lived for 60 years under a bureaucratic Austrian regime which, while failing to give them a strong middle class and an independent peasantry (by now all their property was mortgaged), had succeeded in undermining and disorganising what remained of the gentile communism which had lent them strength in their struggles against the Turks. In Bulgaria, on the other hand, these more or less communist institutions had been left intact by the Turks, and this is the explanation for their superior courage.
So Russia was foiled again and had to make a fresh start. And the Slavophil chauvinism which had been encouraged in the hope that it would counterbalance the revolutionary element, continued to grow day by day and had already begun to pose a threat to the government. So the Tsar betook himself to the Crimea[4] where, or so the Russian press maintained, he would achieve great things. He attempted to entice the Sultan[5] there so as to involve him in an alliance by demonstrating that his erstwhile allies — Austria and England — were traitors and robbers and that France was in tow to, and at the mercy of, Russia. But the Sultan did not come and, for the time being, there was no employment for the vast armaments Russia had accumulated in the west and the south.
The Tsar returned (last June) from the Crimea,[6] but in the meantime the tide of chauvinism had continued to rise and the government, far from controlling this upward surge, found itself increasingly carried away by it. So much so that, on the Tsar's return to Moscow, there was no preventing the mayor,[7] in his address,[8] of speaking loud and clear about the conquest of Constantinople.[9] Under the influence of the generals, and under their aegis, the press openly expressed the expectation that the Tsar would take action against Austria and Germany which were hampering him, nor did the government have the courage to muzzle it. In short, Slavophil chauvinism was stronger than the Tsar. Either the latter must give way or else — the Slavophils would rebel.
All this was compounded by a shortage of cash. No one was willing to lend money to a government which between 1870 and 1875 had borrowed 70 million pounds sterling (1,750 million frs) in London and was posing a threat to the peace of Europe. Only three years before, in Germany, Bismarck had raised a loan of 375 million frs on its behalf, but that had been frittered away long since; and without Bismarck's signature the Germans wouldn't give another farthing. But that signature was no longer to be had save at the cost of humiliating conditions. At home, the government paper-mill had already been producing to excess; the rouble in silver was worth 3 fr. 80, but in paper-money only 2 fr. 20. And armaments were diabolically expensive.
Finally action became imperative. Either a successful move against Constantinople, or revolution. Which is why Giers went to call on Bismarck to explain the situation to him. And Bismarck understood him perfectly. He would have restrained the Russians, first because of their insatiability and secondly out of consideration for Austria. But revolution in Russia might involve the fall of Bismarck's régime in Germany. Without the large reserves of the reactionary army, the rule of the cabbage Junkers in Prussia would not last a day. Revolution in Russia would, at a stroke, change the situation in Germany; it would put an end to that blind faith in Bismarck's omnipotence which had rallied to his standard all the propertied classes; it would foment revolution in Germany.
Bismarck, who had no illusions but that the existence of tsarism in Russia was the base upon which the whole of his system rested, understood very well; he hastened to Vienna to tell his Austrian friends that, in the face of such a danger, it would not be opportune either for him or for them to place undue insistence on questions of amour-propre; that the Russians must be allowed at least a semblance of victory, and that it was in their own interests that Germany and Austria should bow the knee before the Tsar. Moreover, were his esteemed friends the Austrians to insist on meddling in Bulgarian affairs, he would wash his hands of them and then they'd see what would happen. Kâlnoky finally gave way, Alexander Battenberg was sacrificed, and Bismarck went in person to announce the fact to Giers.
There followed the kidnapping of Battenberg by military conspirators in circumstances which could not but shock any monarchically-minded conservative, in particular those princes who had armies of their own. But at this point Bismarck proceeded to the next item on the agenda, glad to have got off at so little cost.
Unfortunately, the Bulgarians gave evidence of a political aptitude and an energy which, in the circumstances, were highly inopportune, not to say intolerable in a Slav nation 'liberated' by Holy Russia. They arrested the conspirators and nominated an efficient government, energetic and — incorruptible (a quality wholly intolerable in a nation as yet barely emancipated!) which reinstated Battenberg. The latter thereupon proceeded to exert all his weakness by taking to his heels. But the Bulgarians proved incorrigible. Battenberg or no Battenberg, they resisted the supreme orders of the Tsar and forced even the heroic Kaulbars to make an ass of himself in the eyes of all Europe.
Imagine the fury of the Tsar! Having curbed Bismarck, having broken the resistance of Austria, to find oneself brought up short by this runt of a nation, weaned only yesterday, which owes its 'independence' to oneself or to one's father[10] and fails to see that the aforesaid independence means nothing more than blind obedience to the 'liberator'! The Greeks and Serbs have not shown themselves wanting in ingratitude, but the Bulgarians exceed all possible bounds. Taking their independence seriously — has such a thing ever been heard of before?
To save himself from revolution, the hapless Tsar was compelled to take another step forward. But with every new step the peril increased, for it brought closer the risk of European war—something Russian diplomacy had always been at pains to avoid. There could be no doubt that, if Russia intervened in Bulgaria, and if such intervention subsequently led to complications, the moment would come when the mutually inimical interests of Russia and Austria would lead to an open clash. And this time there could be no question of localising the affair. There would be general war. And, given the rascals who were at that juncture governing Europe, there was no foreseeing what the composition of the two camps might be. Bismarck was capable of allying himself with the Russians against Austria if that was the only way of postponing revolution in Russia. What seemed more probable, however, was war between Austria and Russia, and that Germany would come to the help of Austria only in case of need, to prevent her being crushed.
While waiting for the spring — for before April the Russians cannot embark on a major war on the Danube — they did everything they could to lure Turkey into their snare, and Austria and England, by their treachery towards Turkey, furthered this ploy. Their object was to gain the right to occupy the Dardanelles, thus turning the Black Sea into a Russian lake, an unassailable haven for the organisation of powerful fleets which would sail out of it to dominate the French lake, as Napoleon called the Mediterranean. But in this they never succeeded, even though the cat had been let out of the bag by the few adherents they had in Sofia.
Such was the situation. To avoid revolution in Russia, the Tsar must have Constantinople. And Bismarck prevaricated, wishing to find some way of avoiding one or the other eventuality. And what of France?
For those Frenchmen whose thoughts, for 16 years, had centred solely on revenge, it would seem natural enough to seize on what might be a possible opportunity. But for our party it is not so simple, nor yet even for Messrs the chauvinists. War against Germany in alliance with Russia might lead to either revolution or counter-revolution in France. If a revolution were to bring the socialists to power, the alliance with Russia would collapse. In the first place, the Russians would immediately conclude peace with Bismarck so that they might together fall upon revolutionary France. And in the second, France would not put the socialists in power so that they might fight to prevent revolution in Russia. But such an eventuality is unlikely to arise. What is far more likely is a monarchist counter-revolution, promoted by the Russian alliance. You know how greatly the Tsar desires the restoration of the house of Orleans, and that this alone would enable him to conclude a good, stable alliance with France. Well, the war once embarked upon, good use would be made of the monarchist officers in the army who would help pave the way for the said restoration. For any partial defeat, however slight — and such there would be — they would blame the Republic, saying that, if victories were to be achieved and the whole-hearted cooperation of their Russian ally secured, there must be a stable, monarchical government — in short, Philippe VII[11] ; the monarchist generals would themselves act irresolutely so that their failures could be laid at the door of the republican government— and hey presto, you've got your monarchy! And, Philippe once installed, all those kings and emperors would suddenly be of one mind and, instead of killing each other, share out Europe between them, swallowing up the smaller states. Once the French Republic had been killed there'd be another Congress of Vienna at which France's republican and socialist sins might, perhaps, be made a pretext for refusing her Alsace-Lorraine, whether in whole or in part, and at which the princes would deride the stupidity of the republicans for believing in the possibility of a genuine alliance between tsarism and anarchy.
Is it true, by the bye, that General Boulanger is saying to anyone who chooses to hear that war is to France a necessity, in that it is the only way to kill social revolution? If so, let it be a warning to you. The good Boulanger has a swashbuckling air, excusable perhaps in a soldier, but which gives me a low opinion of his political nous. It is not he who will save the Republic. If he had to choose between the socialists and the house of Orleans he would, if needs be, come to terms with the latter, especially if it secured the Russian alliance for him. Whatever the case, the bourgeois republicans in France are in the same boat as the Tsar in Russia; they see before them the spectre of revolution and can see only one means of salvation: war.
In France as is Germany things are going so well for us that all we can wish for is the continuation of the status quo. And if revolution were to break out in Russia it would create a combination of circumstances which could hardly be more favourable. Whereas if there were to be general war, we should find ourselves back in the realm of uncertainty and of unpredictable events. Revolution in Russia and France would be averted, our party's splendid development in Germany would be violently interrupted, and the monarchy would probably be restored in France. Doubtless all this would eventually redound in our favour, but what a waste of time, what sacrifices, what fresh obstacles to be overcome!
The temptation to go to war is everywhere great. In the first place the Prussian military system, universally adopted, takes some 12 to 16 years to complete its development; after that period, all reserve formations are made up of men trained in the handling of weapons. Everywhere the 12-16-year period has elapsed; everywhere there are 12-16 classes which have passed through the army each year. Thus everywhere people are prepared, and the Germans no longer enjoy any particular advantage in that respect. And in the second place, old William[12] is probably about to die; then the system will undergo certain changes. Bismarck will see his position to some extent undermined and may himself press for war as the only means of maintaining it. For others this would represent a further temptation to attack Germany which would seem to them less strong and less stable at a time when internal affairs were in a state of flux. Indeed, the Stock Exchange everywhere believes there will be war as soon as the Old Man has closed his eyes.
As for myself, I believe we must take for granted the fact that the war, if war there be, will be conducted simply with a view to preventing revolution: in Russia, to forestall common action by all malcontents— Slavophils, Constitutionals, Nihilists[13] and peasants; in Germany to keep Bismarck in power; in France to stem the victorious progress of the socialists and (or so all the big bourgeoisie hopes) to re-establish the monarchy. Hence I am for 'peace at any price', seeing that it is not we who will pay that price.
Yours ever,
F.E.
I return La France Juive.[14] What a tiresome book!
26 October, Tuesday, 3.30 p. m.
So this letter will reach you tomorrow morning.