Edward Grey face the inevitable. He says and reiterates,
in effect, “You know very well that you cannot
keep out of a European war. You know you are
pledged to fight Germany if Germany attacks France.
You know that your arrangments for the fight are actually
made; that already the British army is commanded by
a Franco-British Council of War; that there is no
possible honourable retreat for you. You know
that this old man in Austria, who would have been
superannuated years ago if he had been an exciseman,
is resolved to make war on Servia, and sent that silly
forty-eight hours ultimatum when we were all out of
town so that he could begin fighting before we could
get back to sit on his head. You know that he
has the Jingo mob of Vienna behind him. You know
that if he makes war, Russia must mobilize. You
know that France is bound to come in with us as you
are with France. You know that the moment we mobilize,
Germany, the old man’s ally, will have only one
desperate chance of victory, and that is to overwhelm
our ally, France, with one superb rush of her millions,
and then sweep back and meet us on the Vistula.
You know that nothing can stop this except Germany
remonstrating with Austria, and insisting on the Servian
case being dealt with by an international tribunal
and not by war. You know that Germany dares not
do this, because her alliance with Austria is her defence
against the Franco-Russian alliance, and that she
does not want to do it in any case, because the Kaiser
naturally has a strong class prejudice against the
blowing up of Royal personages by irresponsible revolutionists,
and thinks nothing too bad for Servia after the assassination
of the Archduke. There is just one chance of
avoiding Armageddon: a slender one, but worth
trying. You averted war in the Algeciras crisis,
and again in the Agadir crisis, by saying you would
fight. Try it again. The Kaiser is stiffnecked
because he does not believe you are going to fight
this time. Well, convince him that you are.
The odds against him will then be so terrible that
he may not dare to support the Austrian ultimatum
to Servia at such a price. And if Austria is thus
forced to proceed judicially against Servia, we Russians
will be satisfied; and there will be no war.”
Sir Edward could not see it. He is a member of
a Liberal Government, in a country where there is
no political career for the man who does not put his
party’s tenure of office before every other consideration.
What would The Daily News and The Manchester
Guardian have said had he, Bismarck-like, said
bluntly: “If war once breaks out, the old
score between England and Prussia will be settled,
not by ambassadors’ tea parties and Areopaguses,
but by blood and iron?” In vain did Sazonoff
repeat, “But if you are going to fight, as you
know you are, why not say so?” Sir Edward, being
Sir Edward and not Winston Churchill or Lloyd George,
could not admit that he was going to fight. He
might have forestalled the dying Pope and his noble