RUSSIA AND THE RE-DISCOVERY OF EUROPE.

Dr. Nansen is fèted everywhere, because he has—well, not exactly discovered the North Pole, but—arrived 250 miles nearer than previous explorers to the mathematical centre of the Arctic Circle. He is the lion of the day. But if so much enthusiasm be lavished upon the adventurous Norwegian who did not discover the Pole, who can say what honours ought to be showered upon the much more famous hero who discovered Europe? For practical purposes the re-discovery of Europe is much more important than Columbus’s discovery of America; an event which was celebrated a few years ago with quite a juvenile ardour. Centuries hence, perchance, the re-discoverer of Europe will be held in equal honour, and the civilised world will then admit that that great discoverer was Russia. History will prove that it was, thanks to Russia’s energetic efforts, that we now see the united action of the great European Powers, which has already resulted in the pacific acquisition of autonomy for Crete.

The cannon that shelled the insurgents proclaimed to an astonished world that Europe had been found again. This certainly has been done not a moment too soon. For the last few years it would seem as though there had been no Europe. There was, indeed, the geographical entity, but of political entity there was nothing. Europe had vanished. In place of the allied Six Powers armed with moral and material right, representing the majesty of an imposing Concert and the incarnation of territorial omnipotence, we had a straggling assemblage muttering like Macbeth’s witches round the cauldron of diplomacy, a most abject embodiment of paralysis and impotence.

Thank Heaven that dreary period of anarchy seems over. The beldames have disappeared, and Europe, armed and irresistible, steps forth like the goddess Minerva into the arena of the world. Let us lose no time in trying to solve the mystery of her recent conspicuous absence.

Perhaps, better than “Re-discovery,” would be the term “Evolution” of Europe. I am bewildered as I read the daily telegrams. They seem almost too miraculous to be true. For centuries—indeed since the Crusades—there has been nothing like it. Sovereigns and statesmen, soldiers and diplomatists, have actually accomplished a practical re-union of Christendom. And there, in the blue waters of Crete, an astonished world sees, for the first time in history, not the fleets, but The Fleet of Europe, and on the shores not the armies, but the Army of Europe. What a vast difference between the plural and the singular; the letter “s” marks the progress of an epoch. Until now we have seen the separate fleets of the Powers and counted their separate armies; now we see Europe with one fleet, and Europe with one army. The scale, it may be objected, is small, but it is the world in miniature.

For myself, as a Russian, I must, however, frankly say that I wish this International work could have been accomplished without wounding one single Christian heart. Materialised Westerns little realise the horror we feel in shedding Christian blood. War is hateful at best, but is at its worst when men, who have received the sign of the Cross in Christian baptism, meet in fratricidal strife. But the Cretan insurgents had to yield to the majesty of the law, whose object it was to stop further inevitable bloodshed. It is obvious that, had the Turks shown any resistance, the law would have been imposed on them with less moral hesitation, and pain, but the fatalistic Mussulmans at once yielded to the inevitable, whilst the Christian insurgents hoped against hope.

It is strange, I confess, how every new development in the Eastern tragedy emphasises more and more the generosity and prudence of Russia’s policy in the East. Not that we have ever considered ourselves infallible. We have made mistakes, but in the great debate which has now lasted for a century between Russia on the one hand and England on the other, Russia has been almost always Ormuzd, and England Ahriman. I don’t, of course, say that England has always realised what would be the inevitable results of her policy, but, with the best intentions in the world, her influence in the East in reality has been against peace, against liberty, against progress, against law, and all for the reason so boldly and frankly admitted by Lord Salisbury in his “wrong horse” confession.

England backed the Turk while Russia gave, not her money only but her best blood, to support the victims of the Turk. It is only of late years that the scales have fallen from the eyes of the English people. They are now beginning to perceive the mistaken part they have played in the past, and are at last attempting to follow in the path worn smooth by the feet of my countrymen.

It should surprise nobody in England that we Russians, accustomed to find the English so often on the wrong side, should have acquired a deep-rooted suspicion that forms one of the most dangerous and difficult complications in the international problem. This is deplorable, but true. It exists still, and, although it seems to me slightly shaken, there is no knowing what mischief it may yet do if recklessly revived as it was before. Take, for instance, this affair of Crete. I know, of course, that the ebullition of passionate sympathy with the Greek attempt to annex that rich island is due not to any deep-laid Machiavelian desire to bring about war or to foment disorders by which England may profit. I understand perfectly that it is due solely to the generous emotional sympathy of the masses, lashed into galvanic excitement by the extravagant rhetoric of some journalists. But Russians who do not live here, as I have the privilege of doing a part of the year, judge England by its press, and believe that so fantastic an outbreak only indicates some deep-laid scheme of self-interest. A thousand pities that this should be so. The emergence of Europe as a political entity in the world is distinctly endangered by such ill-timed and ill-regulated enthusiasm. Not in that way lies the path of progress. The irrational devotion to Greece, like everything irrational, may also have mischievous results; it may mislead Greece as it misled unhappy Armenia.

The emphatic declarations of England’s allegiance to Europe at the Constantinople Conference of 1877, have been also misleading, and therefore mischievous. For what is it that Mr. Greenwood has told us? “All the time England was protesting her loyalty to Europe and her desire to see the unanimous judgment of the Powers accepted by the Sultan, Lord Beaconsfield was preparing for war with Russia in defence of the Sultan, who, we may be sure, was not kept quite in the dark as to the benevolent designs of his English ally.”

A still more flagrant case occurred in 1878, when England, with high-sounding professions of devotion to Europe, asserted at Berlin the sacred principle of collective responsibility in dealing with the Ottoman Empire, and then, at the very same moment, made an isolated, illegal convention with the Sultan, and pocketed Cyprus.

Hence I have always said—what all Russia feels—the first step to convince us of England’s loyalty to Europe is to surrender Cyprus, for the occupation of which England has no European sanction. Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, with his usual intrepidity and good faith, has urged the same demand, but Mr. Chamberlain boasts that England will give up neither Cyprus nor anything else. Can you wonder, therefore, that at Berlin and St. Petersburg, Statesmen look with profound suspicion upon your professed admiration for the “lawless” Greeks? Cyprus lay behind English zeal for the Turks in 1878. What lies behind English zeal for the Government of King George?

The plain truth is, the Radical agitation displayed in some of your papers, and the one hundred members’ telegram to King George, keep alive the widespread conviction that the English are not good Europeans. Though it would be difficult to frame a more discourteous reproach, it implies that England is in the Concert only for what she can get, and that, on one pretext or another, she will slip out, and will serve only her own interests. Yesterday, it was zeal for the Sultan, who “never, never must be coerced”; to-day, it is zeal for the King, who has seized the territory of that very Sultan. Excuses vary, but the end is always the same. That, in brutal frankness, is what every one thinks in every capital in Europe. Is it not a pity that, as the result of one hundred years of English Eastern policy, not one single Power can be convinced of England’s loyalty to Europe?

Russians feel this very strongly, because, however little you like to admit it, Russia has been the pioneer of the movement in favour of constituting a real Europe. The Holy Alliance, against which so much English wrath has been directed, was, in its essence, an attempt to give organic shape to European unity. Owing to the fact that England and France would have nothing to do with it, the Holy Alliance, instead of being Europe, degenerated into a league of Emperors, whose ideals, being more or less despotic, enabled your orators to caricature them as a league of despots for the extirpation of liberty.

No one proposes to revive the Holy Alliance to-day. The dread of revolution which, seventy years ago, was not unnatural—considering how recently the French Revolution had overturned Europe—no longer dominates Imperial Courts. The addition of England, France, and Italy to the Alliance has re-constituted it as a Concert of Europe, very much on the lines of the great ideal of Alexander I.

The character of the Emperor Nicholas I. is now better appreciated in the world than it was forty years ago. It was the fashion then to deride and calumniate him. In reality the one great passion of our Tzar was a determination to establish the rule of law throughout Europe. What seemed to superficial critics a savage zeal against liberty, seemed to him a stern duty imposed by Providence upon sovereigns charged with the maintenance of the law of nations. It was no idle flattery that styled him “the Chief Trustee of Europe.” He believed in Europe. He made himself its policeman against the revolution that laid lawless hands on sacred treaties. How little his conduct was dominated by selfish or prejudiced motives was shown by his intervention for the suppression of the Hungarian insurgents. Austria has never been a friend of Russia, but Nicholas saved her from extinction, and re-established her authority, without reward, save that of enabling Austria soon afterwards to astound the world by her ingratitude.

And as it was with the first Alexander and the first Nicholas, so it has equally been with Alexander the Liberator, and Alexander the Peace-keeper, and so we all know it will be with Nicholas II. Europe forged its decree for the autonomy of Bulgaria, but it was the sword of Russia which alone rendered that decree effective. After our war was over we obeyed the voice of the European Areopagus and allowed the Treaty of San Stefano—the fruit of all our sacrifices—to be torn up and replaced by the Treaty of Berlin. And in the year 1880, when the enforcement of that treaty became necessary, it was Russia who loyally supported Mr. Gladstone at Dulcigno and at Smyrna for the coercion of the Turk.

But there is still a more notable instance of the loyalty of Russia to Europe. When, in 1885, Eastern Roumelia was united with Bulgaria, Russia took the lead in protesting against this infraction of treaty faith, although that would have been a positive vindication of her own treaty of San Stefano. This was perhaps quixotic, but Russia is, I am proud to say, often the Quixote of nations.

Russia has been European, par excellence: it is an old story, but one which has derived new point and cogency from the disturbances in Crete. To read some heated speeches of the day, it would seem that there are Englishmen who imagine that the kingdom of Greece owes its existence and such prosperity as it possesses to the protection and support of England. Some ignoramuses also believe that because Russia has energetically supported Germany in demanding that effective action should be taken to prevent Greece seizing a Turkish possession, Russia is an enemy of the Hellenes. It becomes necessary, therefore, to recall a few historical facts. That there is a kingdom of Greece to-day is due to Russia, and to Russian initiative alone. England and France, no doubt, assisted us in clearing the Morea, and in destroying the Turkish fleet, but that you took part in the business at all, was due not to your zeal for the sacred cause of Hellas, but admittedly to jealousy of Russia, through whose victories in Bulgaria in the year 1829 Greece obtained her independence.

An English friend of mine, to whom I applied for English authorities upon the details of these events, referred me to Greville’s Memoirs, which exactly serve my purpose.

After reporting the death of Alexander I., and the accession of Nicholas, Greville says:—

“The first act of the Russian Government in the year 1826 was to communicate to ours their resolution no longer to delay a recognition of the independence of Greece, and their determination to support that measure, if necessary, by force of arms. They invited us (England) to co-operate in this object, but intimated that if we were not disposed to join them they would undertake it alone. The Duke of Wellington is gone to Russia ostensibly to compliment the new Emperor, but really to concert measures with the Russian Ministry to carry this measure into effect.”¹

The Treaty of London between England, Russia, and France was signed July 7th, 1827. On October 20th occurred the “untoward event” of Navarino, which Lord Palmerston describes as “only a slight act of remonstrance, struck parenthetically into the unbroken friendship with the Sultan.” This destroyed the Turkish fleet, but did not liberate Greece. Greville writes again in September, before the battle of Navarino was fought:—

“Huskisson owned to me that he considered Greece a great humbug. I discovered from what he said that they only interfered that they might keep the Russians quiet and prevent a war between Russia and Turkey.”²

Writing three months later, Greville says:—

“The strong part of the Cabinet, with Huskisson at the head, are for letting things take their course, and for suffering Russia to go to war with Turkey, and leaving it to her to enforce the Articles of the Treaty of London. The plan is that Russia should occupy Moldavia and Wallachia, that the Turks should then be offered to the Sultan, and that, on his yielding the Greek independence, these provinces should be evacuated by the Russians. This is what they propose that our mediation shall effect.”³

That plan was eventually carried out, with the difference that we did not merely occupy Moldavia and Wallachia. Our gallant armies crossed the Danube, forced the passes of the Balkans, and dictated at Adrianople the peace which first made Greece an independent State. Afterwards, when the new-born State looked around for friends, it found England its jealous foe, Russia its watchful patron.

Baron Stockmar, describing Prince Leopold’s candidature for the Greek throne, says it was supported by Russia. Why, Baron Stockmar does not say, but he suggests that it might have been in consequence of his connection with England, the Power most hostile to the Greeks. “Leopold was in the best position to obtain, in the course of further negotiations, the most advantageous conditions for peace.”⁴

Alas! Prince Leopold was not able to secure much favour for Greece from the English Government. When he ventured to suggest that Greece ought to have Candia (Crete) Lord Aberdeen haughtily replied: “Of Candia hitherto there has not on any occasion been a question.”

The indignation of some Englishmen over the “heinous wickedness” of the Imperial Powers who dare to coerce Greece, is thus really surprising. It would seem as if Englishmen regarded it as an infringement of their patent, for it has been the special peculiar policy of England to coerce Greece. She has done it, or tried to do it, at least thrice already; once by herself, for the collection of a monstrous claim by a British subject, once in alliance with France, to prevent Greece making common cause with Russia against Turkey, and once, as one of the Concert of Europe when Mr. Gladstone, in 1886, coerced Greece in the name of European peace.

The details of the Pacifico scandal are worth remembering. When it was decided to enforce the claims of that Portuguese Jew for £31,534, a British fleet, greater than that with which the famous Nelson won the battle of the Nile, blockaded the Greek coasts, and seized the ships of private citizens. Greece, however, refused to be coerced. Russia supported her in a despatch, and France by diplomatic intervention. When the blockade was raised, impartial investigation showed that the debt of Pacifico amounted to only £1,000! Such high-handed proceedings can hardly be said to prove the ardour of English devotion to Hellenic independence, but the action of Count Nesselrode and Baron Brunnow showed clearly enough where Greece’s real friends were to be found.

Four years later, a still stronger demonstration proved the disinterested devotion of England to the interests of Greece. When the Russian armies crossed the Pruth in 1853, the Greeks were for “Grecca Irredenta,” and were supported by their own Government. In the year 1854, therefore, a mixed Anglo-French force landed at the Piraeus, and marched on Athens to compel the Government to desist from showing its sympathy with the oppressed Christians of the East. And yet we are told every morning that it is England, and England alone, who is the hope and strength of Greece! To occupy a capital, to compel the Government to abandon its co-religionists to Turkish vengeance, is surely a most curious way of displaying ardent affection. Of course, I shall be told that that was a long time ago. Not so very long ago, only forty-three years; and forty-three years in the history of nations is but as yesterday. But that is not the last time Greece has had proof of English affection. Crete was in insurrection from 1866 to 1869. Who proposed to hand over the island to Greece? Russia! Who opposed it? England! Now I don’t say that Russia was wise in proposing that Crete should be ceded to Greece thirty years ago. I only refer to the fact that Russia did propose it, and that her proposal fell through. But Russia’s project then was not identical with the high-handed seizure of Crete which we have just witnessed. Russia has no sympathy with the expedition of Colonel Vassos. It reminds us too much of Jameson’s raid. What Russia then proposed was, that Europe should procure such a legal cession of territory as would enable Crete to be added to the Kingdom of Greece. Austria and France supported Russia, but the hesitation and objection of England caused the whole scheme to fall through. The whole story of the Cretan rebellion of 1866-1869 is full of interest just now, and its perusal may be commended to those whose knowledge of Eastern politics appears to date from the Armenian atrocities. When Crete rebelled in 1866, her only friends were Russia and Greece. When the Cretan rising was crushed, Russia was left alone in the defence of the Cretan cause.

How many Englishmen, I wonder, even among diplomatists and journalists, have ever read the admirable but brief series of despatches sent from the Russian Government in the year 1866 to the Russian Ambassador in London? We do not always publish our despatches, neither do you. I am assured by Ambassadors and others, who are in a position to know, that your Blue Books are often mere things of shreds and patches, so carefully are they edited for home consumption. But these despatches from the Russian Government in 1866 which were published in full in the Journal de St. Petersbourg in the following year, these documents are so pertinent and so thoroughly Russian in their directness of aim and unhesitating resolution, that I must ask you to allow me to quote a few sentences.

The first was dated August 20th, 1866, a few months after the rising began. The despatch declares that while the Emperor desired earnestly to prevent a joint interference of the Powers in the internal affairs of the Ottoman State, the serious nature of the Cretan insurrection demanded the attention of all Powers desiring the quiet of the East. The despatch then proceeds:—

“Under these circumstances His Majesty the Emperor thinks it both the duty and the common interest of the Great Powers not to remain idle spectators of events which may be attended with such important consequences. Europe on other occasions has unanimously agreed upon a course of action intended to obviate a crisis which menaced her peace. Though her measures were not always productive of complete results, they have at any rate contributed to allay passion, to prevent a rupture, and to pacify conflicting interests, while, in many cases, serious feud has been averted by strenuous co-operation. Remembering this, our Sovereign thinks the feeling of solidarity may have been lately weakened in Europe; and he deems it advisable therefore to appeal to it in the present emergency, and calls upon the London and Paris Cabinets to support his pacific endeavours. If both these Cabinets think intervention at the present moment as important and indispensable as we do, it might be resorted to under the compact of the year 1830. Indeed, when in that year the allied Powers left Crete under Turkish rule, their consent was not unconditional. The then allied Powers declared to the Porte, in a solemn Note dated March 30th, 1830, ‘that, by virtue of a compact concluded between them, they recognised the necessity of giving the inhabitants of Crete and Samos a guarantee against any measures which might be taken to punish them for their participation in recent events. For this reason they called upon the Porte to determine upon the measures to be adopted, and by restoring ancient privileges to these islands, or conferring fresh immunities upon them, such as might be recommended by experience, give them an effective guarantee against arbitrary or oppressive administration.’ . . . In addition to this we might also refer to the Hatti-Sherif of February 3rd, 1856, which, although issued by His Highness the Sultan, in exercise of his sovereign capacity, yet became an international act by being quoted in the treaty of March 18th, 1856. These acts constitute a series of moral engagements binding the Porte, without injury to internal independence, to the Great Powers, and obliging it to devise means for securing both its own interests and those of Europe at large, which are equally threatened by any crisis in the East.”

The despatch concluded with an urgent appeal to England and France to recognise “the indispensable necessity of taking the matter in hand at once, and seeing the present moment to be propitious for the cause.” A month later the Russian Government renewed its appeal for “conciliatory” measures, saying, “We wish in this new political crisis to co-operate if possible with the Cabinet of St. James.” “The task of the Powers,” said Prince Gortchakoff, “was to forestall sudden changes by a real, genuine, and gradual improvement.” He continued in language which every Russian to-day will proudly repeat:—

“English Ministers are acquainted with Russian traditions. We have never concealed them, nor shall we disown them now. We do not want, I repeat, any new acquisitions, nor have we any desire to add to our authority or importance at anybody else’s cost, but we never have been, nor are we now, indifferent to the sufferings of our co-religionists, suffering involving the shedding of rivers of Christian blood. This sympathy we experience for our co-religionists has been frequently misrepresented, and made a pretext for charging us with secret designs. We maintain that the falsehood of these accusations has been proved by events, and that, as the chronicles of history are enriched by experience, the notions of mankind, the views of the Cabinets, and the character of their mutual relations must be gradually altered.”

A prediction which, in view of Lord Salisbury’s last Guildhall speech, and the vehement anti-Turkish agitation in England, has indeed been singularly fulfilled.

But in 1866—alas! for the unfortunate Christians of the East— the English Government would do nothing. Hence came in November the following cutting reproof from the caustic pen of our Chancellor:—

“We do not think that to keep off impending complications it suffices to wish for the preservation of peace, as the English Cabinet does, and we too. The ferment amongst the Christian population is such as to menace the Orient with immediate convulsion. If the Governments, anxious to prolong the blessings of peace, are confining their action to mere Platonic and barren wishes, they will not avert the dangers threatening the peace of the world. . . . . It has always been our implicit belief that the best way to settle the Eastern Question in a just, humane, and pacific manner, and to avoid the bloodshed and commotion which might otherwise ensue, has been to advance the material welfare of the Christian subjects of the Sultan, and to accord them self-government under the suzerainty of the Porte. By the concession of Autonomy only can the Christian population ever gain full confidence in the Turkish Government. Looking at things as they now stand in Europe, I make bold to say that the views communicated above are in harmony with the general direction of public opinion, and must be particularly acceptable to those who are convinced that short-sightedness is the most dangerous of political defects, and that to free us from imminent peril we must try to enlarge the field of our political vision as much as possible. A mere theoretical approval of our sentiments is of no avail at the present juncture. It is necessary that the great Powers should seriously set to work, and by dint of united effort, carry into effect peacefully, but energetically, what they deem to be just, equitable, and practicable.”

“Ancient History ”—says my reader; but every word is as true to-day as it was then.

Europe, indeed, is only now, thirty years after date, waking up to a recognition of the truth so brilliantly expounded by Prince Gortchakoff. But brilliant Russian expositions did not succeed in overcoming the inertia of English traditions. The Cretan rising dragged on for years, and at last, after Russia had succeeded in obtaining for the Cretans deliverance from Turkish rule, the cause of Crete was betrayed by the very Government which is now posing before the world as the sole hope of Cretan deliverance. As on this point I may be thought to be prejudiced, I prefer to quote an unimpeachable authority, Mr. W. T. Stillman, who, this very month, has told in the Times the truth never before published in England as to the real secret of the sudden collapse of the Cretan movement in the year 1869. Mr. Stillman says:—

“When, at the decline of the long insurrection of 1866-69 the Cretans, having worn out the Turkish Government with their Fabian tactics and patient endurance of rape, ravage, and murder, had what most of those conversant with the affair considered a substantial satisfaction—viz., the concession of the most complete autonomy, the chief of it to be chosen by themselves, without restriction of person or race, a Legislature, and the making of their own laws, exemption from taxes for five years, and minor privileges, for the assurance of which A’ali Pasha, then Grand Vizier, came in person to the island, the Greek committee advised the Cretans to refuse the concessions. Being then Consul of the United States of America in the island, and one of those most in relation with the insurrection, I saw and discussed the matter with the Grand Vizier, and was the channel of the advice sent to the Cretans. That advice was opposed to my own opinion, and I did not conceal that fact; but it had the desired effect, and the concessions were refused. Within a few weeks, and while the conflict was suspended from utter military exhaustion on the part of the Porte, the Greek Government (Bulgaris being Prime Minister in place of Comoundouros, who, with Tricoupi, had been dismissed by King George, as they refused to accept the new programme of the King) stopped the supplies of food and powder (largely, if not entirely, the contribution of the Cretan committees abroad), and ostentatiously sent over to Crete a band of volunteers under the command of one Petropoulakis, a Mainote chief, a devoted friend of Bulgaris, who, landing without any opposition by the Turks, took command of all the insurgent forces, and, without firing a shot, surrendered the island to the Ottoman authorities, not stipulating even the condition of an amnesty for the chiefs, and the insurrection was suppressed in the moment of its complete triumph by its Athenian friends. I can give all the details of this infamous transaction, from personal participation in every phase of it, but the above is enough to show that even then it was the policy of the King, and of a large part of the Athenian statesmen, to repel any settlement of the Cretan question other than annexation to Greece. The offered autonomy, which would have at least spared Crete twenty-six years of Mussulman rule, did not please Athens, as it might have indefinitely deferred annexation, and the Cretans were induced to refuse by arguments which were not all Christian, e.g., the stopping of food supplies, and the pressure on the Cretan refugees with whom Greece was filled, and the Cretans were prevented by force majeure from carrying on the war, in which their part had become easy.”

Can you be surprised, with this in our memories, that we should fail to join so heartily in the English chorus of praise showered so eagerly on the Greeks whose intervention appears to us once more dominated much more by a desire to seize Naboth’s vineyard than to play the role of the good Samaritan. As good Europeans, we cannot permit the government of Athens to arrogate to itself the role of European dictator. Europe, tardily, but decisively, has decreed the autonomy of Crete, for which Russia pleaded so powerfully thirty years ago. The Powers are pledged to deliver Crete from the direct authority of the Sultan, the integrity of whose Empire must nevertheless remain intact. The Ottoman Empire grows more and more phantasmal. It is more useful as a phantom of diplomacy than as a vampire of Christendom. “But,” say impatient agitators, “why not abolish the whole Ottoman State? Why not lay the phantom at the same time as we exorcise the vampire?”

The answer to this is simple. We have not sufficient confidence in the disinterestedness of the Powers to contemplate with equanimity a general scramble for the contents of the great “apple-cart.” That the Greek raid on Crete has not already caused a general war is due to the pacific counsels of Russia. When Prince George, amidst the applause of the English press, sailed for Crete, there might have been a corresponding move from Belgrade and Sofia. Russia, however, advised these Slav States to keep within their frontiers. They trusted the wisdom of the Tzar’s advice, but made it a condition for doing so that the Greeks should be prevented from profiting by their disobedience in invading Crete.

King George and the noble-hearted Queen Olga are devoted to Greece. They are appreciated by all who know them. But Russia has duties of her own. She has to say to the Greeks what she said to the Armenians. “Be quiet, and later on you will probably get what you want.” Nevertheless, they began fighting. We had to separate the fighters. The Greeks may have had the arrière pensèe that, unless they exercise force now, Crete might not care for union later on. The island might come to the conclusion that autonomy is preferable to the chance of mal-administration by Greece.

That the disturbance is in danger of spreading no one can doubt who takes the trouble to look back only ten brief years. When Mr. Gladstone, in 1886, assisted in coercing the Greeks, why did he resort to so extreme a measure? Because the Greeks threatened to invade Macedonia in order to obtain such an accession of territory as would, in the opinion of Athens, counterbalance the advantage secured by Bulgaria in the adhesion of Eastern Roumelia. The coming together of Eastern Roumelia and Bulgaria was merely the undoing of one of the many mischiefs done by the Congress of Berlin.

It broke very little diplomatic crockery, but it was enough to set all the smouldering embers of race-rivalry ablaze. So serious, indeed, was the situation that the Powers were compelled to resort to the pacific coercion of Greece by an international blockade of her coasts. The Liberal leaders, now in opposition, were then in office. They coerced Greece without wincing, because Mr. Gladstone in office knew that the letting loose of race-rivalries in a general game of “grab” in the East would bring about grave dangers to European peace. But now Mr. Gladstone is out of office and unfettered by administrative responsibility. His successor, Lord Rosebery, has spoken in the strongest terms of the perils of any local disturbance or isolated action in the East. We Russians are nearer to the scene of action. We know too well how terrible is the risk, and into what a powder magazine the reckless Greeks have flung a lighted match. But Mr. Gladstone has made from his retirement a most extraordinary declaration. He has written: “In my opinion the threat of European war has been all along by those who invented it an imposture, and a sheer error on the part of those who have been credulous enough to believe it.” Naturally everyone must speak respectfully of Mr. Gladstone, but I am compelled to say that these words have been read by Russians with sorrowful surprise. I can only explain this regrettable utterance by recalling the assurances given to Lord Granville on taking office in 1870 as Foreign Minister in Mr. Gladstone’s Government: “Never before,” said the permanent chief of the office, “had the horizon seemed so clear.” In fact, he congratulated the new minister upon the prospect of a sinecure. A month later Germany invaded France, and Europe for a time disappeared beneath the feet of marching millions. Possibly Mr. Gladstone still draws his information from the sapient source of Lord Granville’s congratulations. English people are supposed to be very practical, and if you persist in denying the sun in the sky we think you must have reason for your flat refusal to admit the existence of such obvious facts.

What is your motive for denying the risk of a general war? Let me recall to you two facts, which may perhaps serve to remind those who dwell behind the silver streak that if the great European pact be broken up the map may be modified at England’s expense. In 1829, when the Russian armies were approaching Constantinople, there was in France a dynasty which owed its existence largely to the sacrifices of England. But no sooner was the French Government exposed to the temptation of a general war, than it proposed to Russia a scheme for re-arrangement of the map of Europe at the expense of England. In the year 1829, Polignac, with the approval of the French Government, drew up his famous scheme of territorial partition. This plan has not lost its importance even now, as it indicates the kind of ambitions that would be let loose by the prospect of the “Culbute generale” in the East.

Polignac, on behalf of France, offered to Russia Moldavia and Wallachia in Europe, and as much of Armenia and Anatolia as she cared to take, in order to enable her to establish herself in the Mediterranean on the flank of England’s road to India. France was to have Belgium, Prussia was to have Holland, the King of the Netherlands being transported to Constantinople, to found a Christian kingdom out of the wreck of European Turkey, minus Bosnia and Servia, which were to go to Austria in order to form a counterbalance to the naval power of England. Syria, Arabia, and the Barbary States were to go to Mehemet Ali.

This scheme was actually sent to St. Petersburg as embodying the then policy of France in case the crash came in the East. Do you think the French Republic is likely to be more scrupulous, in such an event as the upset provoked by Greece, than the ministers of the Bourbons? Again, I shall be told that that happened a long time ago. But the ideas of France are singularly constant. When Napoleon fell at Sedan his one idea was to make peace with Germany on the basis of a common attack against England. The Napoleonic idea, when he hoped to succeed in the war against Prussia, was to offer peace to defeated Germans on the basis of seizure of the left bank of the Rhine, and the joint conquest of Belgium for the benefit of France.

Have you already forgotten Maréchal Lebrun’s mission, which would have succeeded had not Bismarck forced on the war that gave Prussia the leadership of Germany? By the treaty which he had arranged with Austria and Italy, France was to have the left bank of the Rhine and Belgium in return for allowing Italy to take Rome and Austria Silesia. That was in the year 1870 when, to the English Foreign Office, a condition of halcyon peace seemed to prevail in Europe. Do you think it is different to-day? Is England more loved now than she was then? Is the booty of John Bull less worth plundering than in 1870? If there be any Englishmen who dream that they live in an idyllic world they may prepare for a rude awakening. The widespread conviction, as I have said, is that the English are not good Europeans. If England were to play fast and loose with the re-discovered Europe, and, by refusing to coerce both Greek and Turk, to cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war—well, I think it by no means unlikely that Europe’s claim for “moral and intellectual damage” would be a thousand times as large as the modest million demanded by President Kruger.

OLGA NOVIKOFF.

March 12, 1897.  

1. Greville’s Memoirs, vol. i. p. 80.
2. Vol. i. p. 116.
3. Vol. i. p. 17.
4. Stockmar’s Memoirs, vol. i. p. 92.