[11] Du Fournet, pp. 115-17; Skouloudis to Greek Legation, Paris, 19 Feb./4 March, 1916.
[12] Politis to Guillemin, 9/22 Feb., 1916.
[13] Considering the extent of the coast-line of Greece and the poverty of her inhabitants, this would be incredible, were it not attested by the Allies' Naval Commander-in-Chief, whose task it was to verify every report transmitted to him: "Jamais un seul de ses avis n'a été reconnu exact; la plupart étaient visiblement absurdes." "Malgré les vérifications les plus répétées jamais un seul de ces avis n'a été reconnu exact. Un certain nombre de coquins, incompétents mais malins, vivaient du commerce de ces fausses nouvelles."—Du Fournet, pp. 115, 304. Cp. also pp. 85, 270. The French Admiral of Patrols, Faton, and the British Admiral Kerr, are equally emphatic in testifying "that all these stories about supplying the submarines were fabrications."—See Vice-Admiral Mark Kerr, in theMorning Post, 13 Dec., 1920.
[14] J. C. Lawson,Tales of Aegean Intrigue, pp. 93-143.
[15] Du Fournet, p. 304.
[16] Du Fournet, pp. 112-16. In this work we find a full picture of the French Secret Service. Unfortunately, or fortunately, no authoritative record has been published of its British counterpart. Mr. Lawson's account deals only with a provincial branch of the establishment.
[17]The New Europe, 29 March, 1917;Orations, pp. 142-3.
{95}
When M. Venizelos taunted M. Skouloudis with forgetting that he had promised the Allies "not only simple neutrality, nor simply benevolent neutrality, but most sincerely benevolent neutrality," the aged Prime Minister, who apparently had a sense of humour, replied: "I do not know how there can be such a thing as benevolent neutrality. A neutrality really benevolent towards one of the belligerents is really malevolent towards the other, consequently it is more or less undisguised partiality. Between benevolence and malevolence there is no room for neutrality." He only knew, he said, one kind of neutrality—the absolute neutrality towards both belligerents.[1] And he lived up to his knowledge so conscientiously that he earned the gratitude of neither, but saw himself the sport of both.
No sooner had the Allies begun to fall back from Krivolak, than the German Military Attaché at Athens presented to King Constantine a telegram from General von Falkenhayn, dated 29 November, 1915, in which the Chief of the German General Staff intimated that, if Greece failed to disarm the retreating Entente forces or to obtain their immediate re-embarkation, the development of hostilities might very probably compel the Germans and the Bulgars to cross her frontiers. After a consultation, the Skouloudis Cabinet replied through the King that Greece did not consent to a violation of her soil; but if the violation bore no hostile character towards herself, she would refrain from opposing it by force of arms on certain guarantees: that the Bulgars should categorically renounce every claim to territories now in Greek possession, that simultaneously with their entry into Macedonia Greece should be allowed to occupy Monastir as a pledge for their exit, that in no circumstance whatever should the King of Bulgaria or his sons enter Salonica, {96} that all commands should be exclusively in German hands, and so forth—altogether nineteen conditions, the principal object of which was to ward off the danger of a permanent occupation, but the effect of which would have been to hamper military operations most seriously.
The German Government, perturbed by the extent and nature of the guarantees demanded, referred the matter to Falkenhayn, who would only grant three comprehensive assurances: to respect the integrity of Greece, to restore the occupied territories at the end of the campaign, and to pay an indemnity for all damage caused. On those terms, he invited Greece to remove her army from Macedonia so as to avoid the possibility of an accidental collision. The King refused, giving among other reasons that such a concession had been denied to the Entente. Thereupon Falkenhayn asked, as an alternative to a total evacuation, that Greece should pledge herself to resist Entente landings in the Gulfs of Cavalla and Katerini. Again Greece refused, on the ground that this would involve the use of force against the Entente, whereas she was determined not to abandon her neutrality as long as her interests, in her own opinion, did not compel her so to do.[2]
After this answer, given on 27 January, 1916, conversations on the subject ceased for about six weeks.
Thus it appears that during the period when the Allies were, or professed to be, most nervous about the intentions of Greece, it was the fear of Greek hostility, carefully nursed by Greek diplomacy, that checked the Germans and the Bulgars from following up their advantage and sweeping the Franco-British troops into the sea. It was the same attitude of Greece that made the enemy hesitate to break into Macedonia during the following months, and gave the Allies time to fortify themselves.
On 14 March, Falkenhayn returned to the charge, and was once more met with a list of exorbitant conditions. This time the conversations assumed the character of recriminations; the Greek Government complaining of Bulgarian encroachments on the neutral zone fixed along the frontier, Falkenhayn retorting that the provocative movements of the Entente Forces obliged the Central Powers to fortify their positions and threatening a rupture {97} if the Greek soldiers continued to hinder the Bulgars.[3] Then, after another interval, he announced (7 May) that, owing to an English advance across the Struma, he found it absolutely necessary to secure in self-defence the Rupel Pass—key of the Struma Valley.[4]
M. Skouloudis endeavoured to make the German Government dissuade the General Staff from its project. Falkenhayn, he said, was misinformed as to an English advance—only small mounted patrols had crossed the Struma. He suspected that he was deceived and instigated by the Bulgars who, under cover of military exigencies, sought to realize their well-known ambitions at the expense of Greece. Their frequent misdeeds had already irritated Greek public opinion to such a degree that he could not answer for the consequences, should the project be carried out. The appearance of Bulgarian troops in Macedonia would create a national ferment of which Venizelos and the Entente Powers would take advantage in order to overthrow the present Ministry and force Greece into war.[5]
Impressed by these arguments, the German Government did its utmost to induce Falkenhayn to abandon his scheme; von Jagow even going so far as to draw up, with the assistance of the Greek Minister at Berlin, a remonstrance to the Chief of the General Staff. But it was all to no purpose. The political department had very little influence over the High Command. Falkenhayn insisted on the accuracy of his information, and adhered to his own point of view. He could not understand, he said, why a German move should cause any special excitement in Greece, seeing that it was directed against the French and the English, who paid no heed to Greek susceptibilities, and he irritably complained that, while Greece allowed the Entente full liberty to improve its position day by day, she raised the greatest obstacles to Germany's least demand.[6] In brief, from being more or less pliant, the Chief of the General Staff became rigid: he would no longer submit to rebuffs and denials. Strategic reasons, perhaps, had brought about this change; perhaps the Bulgars were the instigators. It is impossible to say, {98} and it does not much matter. The essential fact is that the man had power and meant to use it.
There followed a formal communication from the German and Bulgarian Ministers at Athens to M. Skouloudis, stating that their troops were compelled in self-defence to push into Greek territory, and assuring him that neither the integrity and sovereignty of Greece nor the persons and property of the inhabitants would in any way suffer by this temporary occupation. M. Skouloudis took note of this decision without assenting to it, but also without protesting: he felt, he said, that a premature protest could only lose Greece the guarantees of restoration and reparation offered. Sufficient unto the day the evil thereof: confronted with powerful Empires in the height of their military strength, he had done all that was humanly possible to ward off their advance, and, though unsuccessful in the end, he had at least obtained a solemn pledge of their ultimate retreat. The protest came a few days later, when the invasion actually took place.[7]
On 26 May, a Germano-Bulgarian force appeared at Rupel. The garrison, in accordance with its instructions of 27 April (O.S.) to resist any advance beyond 500 metres from the frontier line, fired upon the invaders and drove them back. But on fresh orders reaching it to follow the instructions of 9 March (O.S.)—which prescribed that, in the event of a foreign invasion, the Greek troops should withdraw—it surrendered the fort.[8]
In Entente circles it had long been assumed that, let the King and his Government do what they liked, the instant a Bulgarian foot stepped over the border, soldiers and civilians would fly to arms. Nothing of the sort happened. However painful to their feelings their orders might be, the soldiers obeyed them. Among the civilians also the shock, severe as it was, produced no demoralization. The Greek people generally understood that the surrender of Rupel was an inevitable consequence of the landing at Salonica. Nevertheless, the fears of M. Skouloudis that {99} a Bulgarian invasion would place a powerful weapon in the hands of his opponents were abundantly fulfilled.
By representing the event as the result of a treacherous collusion between Athens and the Central Powers,[9] M. Venizelos roused the Allied nations to fury. Their Governments, of course, knew better. Even in France official persons recognized that the occupation of Rupel was a defensive operation which Greece could not oppose by force. Yet they had hoped that she would have averted it by diplomatic action. As it was, they concluded that she must have received from the Central Powers very strong assurances that the occupied territories would be restored to her. In any case, they said, the Skouloudis Cabinet's passivity in face of a move calculated to prejudice the Allies' military position contradicted its oft-repeated protestations of a benevolent neutrality towards them.[10]
M. Skouloudis hastened to vindicate his conduct. He did not tell the Entente Powers, as he might have done, that he had by diplomatic action put off an invasion for six months, and thus enabled them to increase their forces and consolidate their position. Neither did he tell them another thing which in itself formed an ample refutation of the charge of collusion—that on 27 April (10 May) General Sarrail had occupied the frontier fort Dova-tépé with the tacit consent of the Hellenic Government, which had deliberately excluded that fort from the instructions of resistance issued that day to its troops, and that Greek officers urged him at the same time to occupy Rupel, dwelling on the military importance of the fort for the defence of Eastern Macedonia; an advice which the French General had ignored on the ground that Rupel lay altogether outside the Allies' zone of action, and he could not spare the troops necessary for its occupation.[11]
{100}
The Greek Premier simply said that his Government's passivity was in strict accord with the explicit declarations of its policy and intentions, enunciated at the very outset, ratified by the Agreement of 10 December, 1915, and reiteratedad nauseamto the Entente Ministers—viz., that "should the Allied troops by their movements bring the war into Greek territory, the Greek troops would withdraw so as to leave the field free to the two parties to settle their differences." Far from changing his attitude, he once more, in reply to M. Briand's threat that, "if the Bulgarian advance continued without resistance there might ensue the most serious consequences for the Hellenic Government," emphatically declared: "Resistance is only possible if we abandon our neutrality, and the demand that we should resist is therefore in flagrant contradiction to the oft-repeated protestations of the Entente Powers that they have neither the wish nor the intention to force us into the War." Nor could he understand how they could think of blaming Greece for receiving from the Central Powers the same assurances of eventual restoration as those given by themselves.[11]
M. Skouloudis spoke in vain. Paris had made up its mind to treat the incident as indicating a new and malevolent orientation against which it behoved the Allies to protect themselves. Accordingly, on 1 June, M. Briand authorized General Sarrail to proclaim a state of siege at Salonica.
General Sarrail, who had long sought to be freed from the trammels of Greek sovereignty—"et à être maître chez moi"—but had hitherto been denied his wish by the British Government, jumped at the permission, and he improved upon it with a personal touch, trivial yet characteristic. So far back as 27 April he had recommended that "we must strike at the head, attack frankly and squarely the one enemy—the King." Pending an opportunity to strike, he seized the occasion to slight. He fixed the proclamation for 3 June, King Constantine's name day, which was to be celebrated at Salonica as in every other town of the kingdom with a solemnTe Deum. {101} The British General, Milne, who had arranged to assist at theTe Deum, after vainly trying to obtain at least a postponement of the date out of respect for the King, found himself obliged to yield. And so on that festal morning martial law was proclaimed. Allied detachments with machine guns occupied various strategic points, the public offices were taken possession of, the chiefs of the Macedonian gendarmerie and police were expelled, and the local press was placed under a French censor. All this, without any preliminary notification to the Hellenic Government, which expressed its indignation that a French General, forgetting the most elementary rules of courtesy and hospitality, thought fit to choose such a moment for inaugurating a state of things that formed at once a gratuitous affront to the sovereign of the country and a breach of the terms of the Agreement of 10 December.[13]
But this was only a prelude, followed on 6 June by a blockade of the Greek coasts, established in pursuance of orders from Paris and London—pourpeser sur la Grèce et lui montrer qu'elle était à notre merci.[14] Even this measure, however, did not seem to M. Briand sufficient. He advocated intervention of a nature calculated to disarm our enemies and to encourage our friends. His views did not meet with approval in London: Sir Edward Grey had "des scrupules honorables," which M. Briand set himself to overcome by pen and tongue. The Entente Powers, he argued, were protectors of Greece—guarantors of her external independence and internal liberty. The Greek Government was bound to defend its territories with them against all invaders, and it had broken that obligation. Further, it had sinned by violating the Constitution. On both counts the Entente Powers had not only the right but the duty to intervene. Thus only could they justify, in the eyes of the Greek people, the blockade by which the whole population suffered, and which it would otherwise not understand. There was no time to lose: the dignity of France demanded swift and drastic action: the Athenians had gone so far as to ridicule in a cinema the {102} uniform of the heroes of Verdun. If England would not join her, she must act alone.[15]
These arguments—particularly, one may surmise, the last—overcame Sir Edward Grey's honourable scruples; and on 16 June a squadron was ordered to be ready to bombard Athens, while a brigade was embarked at Salonica for the same destination. Before the guns opened fire, hydroplanes would drop bombs on the royal palace; then the troops would land, occupy the town, and proceed to arrest, among others, the royal family. Such were the plans elaborated under the direction of the French Minister at Athens, much to the joy of General Sarrail, who had said and written again and again that "nothing could be done unless the King was put down." [16]
All arrangements for this "demonstration" completed, on 21 June the Entente Powers, "ever animated by the most benevolent and amicable spirit towards Greece"—it is wonderful to what acts these words often form the accompaniment—had the honour to deliver to her Government a Note by which they demanded:
1. The immediate and total demobilization of the Army.
2. The immediate replacement of the present Cabinet by a business Ministry.
3. The immediate dissolution of the Chamber and fresh elections.
4. The discharge of police officers obnoxious to them.
They admitted neither discussion nor delay, but left to the Hellenic Government the entire responsibility for the events that would ensue if their just demands were not complied with at once.
As M. Briand had anticipated, the sight of our warships' smoke quickened the Greek Government's sense of justice. King Constantine promptly complied, the "demonstration," to the intense disappointment of M. Guillemin and General Sarrail, was adjourned, and a Ministry of a non-political character, under the leadership of M. Zaimis, was appointed to carry on the administration of the country until the election of a new Chamber.[17]
The event marked a new phase in the relations between {103} Greece and the Entente Powers. Henceforth they appear not as trespassers on neutral territory, but as protectors installed there, according to M. Briand, by right—a right derived from treaties and confirmed by precedents.[18] Concerning the treaties all comment must be postponed till the question comes up in a final form. But as to the precedents, it may be observed that the most pertinent and helpful of all was one which M. Briand did not cite.
At the time of the Crimean War, Greece, under King Otho, wanted to fight Turkey, and realize some of her national aspirations with the assistance of Russia. But France and England, who were in alliance with Turkey against Russia, would not allow such a thing. Their Ministers at Athens told King Otho that strict neutrality was the only policy consonant with the honour and the interest of Greece: while hostilities lasted her commerce, as a neutral nation, would flourish, and by earning their goodwill she could, at the conclusion of peace, hope not to be forgotten in the re-making of the map of Eastern Europe. For refusing to listen to these admonitions King Otho was denounced as a pro-Russian autocrat, and the Allies landed troops at the Piraeus to compel obedience to their will.
Once more a Greek sovereign had drawn down upon himself the wrath of the Protecting Powers, with the traditional charges of hostile tendencies in his foreign and autocratic tendencies in his domestic conduct, for daring to adopt an independent Greek policy.
This time the three Powers were united in a common cause, which necessitated unity of action on all fronts. But it would be an error to imagine that this unity of action rested everywhere upon a community of views or of ulterior aims. Certainly such was not the case in Greece. France had her own views and aims in that part of the world. M. Briand was bent on bringing Greece into the War, not because he thought her help could exercise a decisive influence over its course, but because he wanted her to share in the spoils under French auspices: he considered it France's interest to have in the Eastern Mediterranean a strong Greece closely tied to her.[19]
{104}
That programme France intended to carry through at all costs and by all means. England and Russia, for the sake of the paramount object of the War, acquiesced and co-operated. But the acquiescence was compulsory and the co-operation reluctant. The underlying disaccord between the three Allies reflected itself in the demeanour of their representatives at Athens.
M. Guillemin, the French Minister, stood before the Greek Government violently belligerent. Brute force, accentuated rather than concealed by a certain irritating finesse, seemed to be his one idea of diplomacy, and he missed no conceivable opportunity for giving it expression: so much so that after a time the King found it impossible to receive him. Sir Francis Elliot, the British Minister, formed a pleasing contrast to his French colleague: a scrupulous and courteous gentleman, he did not disguise his repugnance to a policy involving at every step a fresh infringement of a neutral nation's rights. As it was, he endeavoured to moderate proceedings which he could neither approve nor prevent. Prince Demidoff, a Russian diplomat of amiable manners, seconded Sir Francis Elliot's counsels of moderation and yielded to M. Guillemin's clamours for coercion.[20]
It is important to bear this disaccord in mind in order to understand what went before and what comes hereafter: for, though for the most part latent, it was always present; and if it did not avert, it retarded the climax.
[1]Orations, p. 155; Skouloudis'sSemeioseis, p. 36.
[2]White Book, Nos. 70-4, 79, 81, 84, 86-90.
[3]White Book, Nos. 92, 93, 96-102.
[4]White Book, No. 104.
[5]White Book, Nos. 106, 111, 113.
[6]White Book, Nos. 110, 112, 116.
[7]White Book, Nos. 117-20, 134, 135; Skouloudis'sApantesis, pp. 25-6.
[8]White Book, Nos. 95, 105, 126, 130-33, 137. The instructions of 27 April had been issued chiefly in consequence of information that bands of Bulgarian irregulars (Comitadjis) were at that moment preparing to cross the frontier. Skouloudis'sApantesis, p. 23.
[9] The charge was supported by garbled "extracts" from the instructions to the Greek troops (the full texts of which may now be read in theWhite Book), published in Paris. See theSaturday Review, 10 Sept., 1921, pp. 321-2, citing thePetit Parisienof Dec., 1916.
[10]White Book, Nos. 140, 146.
[11]Sarrail, p. 104. Anyone familiar with the political and psychological atmosphere would have seen that the Greeks were anxious to keep the Bulgars out by inducing the French to forestall them. But Sarrail detected in their advice a subtle contrivance either to find out his plans, or to cast the blame for the loss of Rupel on him!
[12]White Book, No. 142.
[13]Journal Officiel, p. 72; Sarrail, pp. 105-8, 112, 355-7;White Book, Nos. 142, 145.
[14]Sarrail, p. 113.
[15]Journal Officiel, pp. 72-3.
[16] Sarrail, pp. 115-24; Du Fournet, pp. 91-3.
[17]Journal Officiel, p. 99; Sarrail, pp. 125-7; Du Fournet, p. 93.
[18]Journal Officiel, pp. 72, 73.
[19] Romanos to Zaimis, Paris, 26 Aug./8 Sept., 1916.
[20] See Du Fournet, pp. 110-11.
{105}
In their Note of 21 June the Allies assured the Greek people that they acted for its sake as much as for their own. One half of the preamble was taken up by their grievances against the Skouloudis Government—its toleration of foreign propagandists and its connivance at the entry of enemies, which formed a fresh menace for their armies. The other half was devoted to the violation of the Constitution by the dissolution of two Chambers within less than a year and the subjection of the country to a regime of tyranny. Their aim, they said, was to safeguard the Greek people in the enjoyment of its rights and liberties.[1]
These generous sentiments left the Greek people strangely cold. Indeed, the absence of any manifestations of popular joy at the Allies' success was as striking as had been the manifestations of resentment at the means employed. The only persons who did applaud the action were the persons whose party interests it served. The Venizelist Press hailed the triumph of violence as a victory for legality. M. Venizelos addressed to M. Briand his felicitations, and gave public utterance to his gratitude as follows: "The Note solved a situation from which there was no other issue. The just severity of its tone, the sincerity of its motives, its expressly drawn distinction between the Greek people and the ex-Government, give it more than anything else a paternal character towards the people of this country. The Protecting Powers have acted only like parents reclaiming a son's birthright." [2]
Pared down to realities, the aim of the Protecting Powers was to bring their protégé to power and Greece into the War. The demobilization of the army, which stood first on their list, was the first step to that end. M. Venizelos {106} had been asserting that the people were still with him, and, given a chance, would uphold his policy, but that chance was denied them by the mobilization. With a pardonable ignorance of the people's feelings, and also, it must be owned, with a too naïve confidence in the accuracy of the People's Chosen, the Allies had decided to act on this assumption: an assumption on which M. Venizelos himself was most reluctant to act.
We have it on his own evidence that he looked for a solution of his difficulties, not to an election, but to a revolution. Further, he has told us that, eager as he might be for a revolutionary stroke, he could not lose sight of the obstacles. To those who held up French revolutions as a model, he pointed out that the analogy was fallacious: in France "long years of tyranny had exasperated the people to its very depths. In Greece the people had a king who, only two years earlier, had headed his armies in two victorious campaigns." [3] So he scouted the idea of intervention at Athens, convinced that any attack on the Crown would spell destruction to himself.[4] His project was to steal to Salonica and there, under General Sarrail's shield, to start a separatist movement "directed against the Bulgars, but not against the king," apparently hoping that the Greek troops in Macedonia, among whom his apostles had been busy, fired by anti-Bulgar hate, would join him and drag king and country after them. This project had been communicated by the French Minister at Athens to General Sarrail on 31 May:[5] but, as the British Government was not yet sufficiently advanced to countenance sedition,[6] M. Venizelos and his French confederate saw reason to abandon it for the present.
Thus all concerned were committed to a test of the real desires of the Greek people by a General Election, which they declared themselves anxious to bring off without delay—early in August. This time there would be no ambiguity about the issue: although the Allies in their Note, as was proper and politic, had again disclaimed any {107} wish or intention to make Greece depart from her neutrality, M. Venizelos proclaimed that he still adhered to his bellicose programme, and that he was more confident of victory than ever[7]: had not the Reservists been set free to vote, and were not those ardent warriors his enthusiastic supporters? With this cry—perhaps in this belief—he entered the arena.
It was a lively contest—rhetoric and corruption on both sides reinforced by terrorism, to which the Allies' military authorities in Macedonia, and their Secret Service at Athens, whose efficiency had been greatly increased by the dismissal of many policemen obnoxious to them, and by other changes brought about through the Note of 21 June, contributed of their best.
But even veteran politicians are liable to error. The Reservists left their billets in Macedonia burning with anger and shame at the indignities and hardships which they had endured. The Allies might have had among those men as many friends as they pleased, and could have no enemies unless they created them by treating them as such. And this is just what they did: from first to last, the spirit displayed by General Sarrail towards the Greek army was a spirit of insulting distrust and utterly unscrupulous callousness.
Unable to revenge themselves on the foreign trespasser, the Reservists vowed to wreak their vengeance on his native abettor. They travelled back to their villages shouting: "A black vote for Venizelos!" and immediately formed leagues in the constituencies with a view to combating his candidates. The latter did all they could to exploit the national hate for the Bulgars and the alarm caused by their invasion. But fresh animosities had blunted the edge of old feelings: besides, had not the Bulgarian invasion been provoked by the Allies' occupation, and who was responsible for that occupation? For the rest, the question, as it presented itself to the masses, was no longer simply one of neutrality or war. Despite M. Venizelos's efforts, and thanks to the efforts of his adversaries, his breach with the King had become public, and {108} the division of the nation had now attained to the dimensions of a schism—Royalists against Venizelists. Nor could there be any doubt as to the relative strength of the rival camps.
Thus, by a sort of irony, the action which was designed to clothe Venizelos with new power threatened to strip him of the last rags of prestige that still clung to his name. Therefore, the elections originally fixed for early in August were postponed by the Entente to September.
Such was the internal situation, when external events brought the struggle to a head.
With the accession of 120,000 Serbs, 23,000 Italians, and a Russian brigade, the Allied army in Macedonia had reached a total of about 350,000 men, of whom, owing to the summer heats and the Vardar marshes, some 210,000 were down with malaria.[8] Nevertheless, under pressure from home and against his own better judgment,[9] General Sarrail began an offensive (10 August). As might have been foreseen, this display of energy afforded the Bulgars an excuse, and the demobilization of the Greek forces an opportunity, for a fresh invasion. M. Zaimis, in view of the contingency, imparted to General Sarrail his Government's intention to disarm the forts in Eastern Macedonia, so that he might forestall the Bulgars by occupying them. But again, as in May, the Frenchman treated the friendly hint with scornful suspicion.[10] There followed a formal notice from the German and Bulgarian Ministers at Athens to the Premier, stating that their troops were compelled, by military exigencies, to push further into Greek territory, and repeating the assurances given to his predecessor on the occupation of Fort Rupel.[11]
The operation was conducted in a manner which belied these assurances. Colonel Hatzopoulos, acting Commandant of the Fourth Army Corps, reported from his headquarters at Cavalla that the Bulgarian troops were accompanied by irregular bands which indulged in murder {109} and pillage; that the inhabitants of the Serres and Drama districts were fleeing panic-stricken; and that the object of the invaders clearly was, after isolating the various Greek divisions, to occupy the whole of Eastern Macedonia. He begged for permission to call up the disbanded reservists, and for the immediate dispatch of the Greek Fleet. But the Athens Government vetoed all resistance, and the invasion went on unopposed.[12] By 24 August the Bulgars were on the outskirts of Cavalla.
Truth to tell, the real authors of the invasion were the Allies and M. Venizelos, who, by forcing Greece to disarm before the assembled enemy, practically invited him. But it was not to be expected that they should see things in this light. They, as usual, saw in them a new "felony"—yet another proof of King Constantine's desire to assist the Kaiser and defeat M. Venizelos[13]—and acted accordingly.
M. Venizelos opened the proceedings with a meeting outside his house on Sunday, 27 August, when he delivered from his balcony a direct apostrophe to the King—an oration which may have lost some of its dramatic effect by being read out of a carefully prepared manuscript, but which on that account possesses greater documentary value:
"Thou, O King, hast become the victim of conscienceless counsellors who have tried to destroy the work accomplished by the Revolution of 1909, to bring back the previous maladministration, and to satisfy their passionate hate for the People's Chosen Leader. Thou art the victim of military advisers of limited perceptions and of oligarchic principles. Thou hast become the victim of thy admiration for Germany, in whose victory thou hast believed, hoping through that victory to elbow aside our {110} free Constitution and to centre in thy hands the whole authority of the State." After enumerating the disastrous results of these errors—"instead of expansion in Asia Minor, Thrace, and Cyprus, a Bulgarian invasion in Macedonia and the loss of valuable war material"—the orator referred to the elections and warned the King that persistence in his present attitude would involve danger to the throne: "The use of the august name of Your Majesty in the contest against the Liberal Party introduces the danger of an internal revolution." The discourse ended with another scarcely veiled menace to the King: "If we are not listened to, then we shall take counsel as to what must be done to rescue all that can be rescued out of the catastrophe which has overtaken us." [14]
It was not an empty threat. The Chief spoke on Sunday, and on Wednesday his followers at Salonica rose up in revolt and, supported by General Sarrail, took possession of the public offices, set up a revolutionary committee under a Cretan, and launched a war proclamation for Macedonia on the side of the Entente. The Royalist troops, after some fighting, were besieged in their barracks, starved into surrender, and finally shipped off to the Piraeus, while many civil and ecclesiastical personages were thrown into prison. The French General received notice that M. Venizelos himself would arrive on 9 September to take command of the movement.[15]
Concurrently with this first product of the plot hatched between M. Venizelos and M. Guillemin in May, was carried on the more orthodox mode of action inaugurated by the Allied Governments in June. At the news of the Bulgarian invasion, the French Minister at Athens felt or feigned unbounded fear—tout était à redoubter: even a raid by Uhlans to the very gates of the capital—and asked Paris for a squadron to be placed at his disposal. Paris did what it could. On 26 August Admiral Dartige du Fournet was ordered to form a special squadron and proceed against Athens according to the plans drawn up {111} in June. He immediately left Malta at the head of thirty-four ships, and on the 28th arrived at Milo, where he found a British contingent of thirty-nine ships awaiting him. The joint armada thus formed was believed to be strong enough to preclude all danger of resistance. For all that, every precaution was taken to secure to it the advantage of a surprise, though in vain: its size and the proximity of its objective rendered secrecy impossible.
Four days were wasted in idleness—a delay due to England's scruples. But at last all was ready; and on the morning of 1 September the Allied Fleet stood out to sea: seventy-three units of every description, the big ships in single file, flanked by torpedo-boats, steaming bravely at the rate of fifteen knots, and leaving behind them a track of white-crested waves that stretched to the very edge of the horizon:le coup d'oeil est impressionant.
All arrangements for battle had been made, and each contingent had its special role assigned to it: only the Intelligence Services, being otherwise occupied, had failed to furnish any information about Greek mines and submarines. It was therefore necessary to be more than ever careful. But the six hours' voyage was accomplished safely, and not until the armada cast anchor at the mouth of the Salamis Strait did it meet with a tangible token of hostility. The Greek Admiral commanding the Royal Fleet before the arsenal of Salamis—a force composed of two ironclads, one armoured cruiser, eighteen torpedo-boats and two submarines—failed to bid the Allies welcome: a breach of international rules which was duly resented and remedied.
The expedition had for its objects: (1) To seize a dozen enemy merchantmen which had taken refuge since the beginning of the War in the harbours of Eleusis and the Piraeus; (2) to obtain the control of Greek posts and telegraphs; (3) to procure the expulsion of enemy propagandists, and the prosecution of such Greek subjects as had rendered themselves guilty of complicity in corruption and espionage on the wrong side.
Of the first operation, which was conducted to a successful issue that same evening "with remarkable activity" by one of Admiral Dartige's subordinates, no justification was attempted: we needed tonnage and took it. The {112} pretext for the second was that the Allies had heard "from a sure source" that their enemies were furnished by the Hellenic Government with military information. So serious a charge, if made in good faith, should have been supported by the clearest proofs. Yet even Admiral Dartige, whose disagreeable duty it was to prefer it, bitterly complained that "he never received from Paris a single proof which could enlighten him." On the other hand, he did receive abundant enlightenment about the "sure source": the Russian Minister needed to send a cipher message to the American Embassy at Constantinople which was entrusted with Russian interests, and, the Hellenic Government readily agreeing to transmit it through its Legation at Pera, Prince Demidoff, with the consent of his Entente colleagues, proceeded to make use of the Athens wireless for that purpose. Within forty-eight hours the Admiral received from Paris an excited telegram asking him what measures he had taken to prevent the Hellenic Government from "violating its engagements." The rebuke, explains the Admiral, was the result of a sensational report from the head of the French Secret Intelligence at Athens, denouncing the above transaction as an example of "the bad faith of the Greeks." On this pretext all the means by which the Hellenic Government could communicate with its representatives abroad and reply to the attacks of its enemies passed under the Allies' control.
Somewhat less neat were the methods adopted to secure the third object of the expedition. The Secret Services had compiled a voluminous register of undesirable persons out of which they drew up a select list of candidates for expulsion and prosecution. Unfortunately, despite their industry, it teemed with embarrassing errors: individuals put down as Germans turned out to be Greeks; and the suspects of Greek nationality included high personages, such as M. Streit, ex-Minister for Foreign Affairs, General Dousmanis and Colonel Metaxas, ex-Chiefs of the General Staff, and so on. At last an expurgated list was approved and carried out summarily.[16] Some of the criminals escaped punishment by transferring their services from the German to the French and British propagandas; for, {113} while to intrigue with the former was to commit a crime, to intrigue with the latter was to perform a meritorious deed.
There the Allies and M. Venizelos stopped for the moment, hoping thatRumania's entry into the War, which had just taken place, would induceGreece to do likewise.
[1]Journal Officiel, p. 99.
[2] TheDaily Mail, 24 June, 1916.
[3]The New Europe, 29 March, 1917.
[4] Du Fournet, p. 91.
[5] Sarrail, pp. 107, 354-5.
[6] "L'Angleterre avait mis son veto."—Sarrail, p. 153.
[7] See his statement to the Correspondent of the ParisJournal, in theHesperia, of London, 7 July, 1916.
[8] Du Fournet, p. 99.
[9] Caclamanos, Paris, 1/14 June, 1916.
[10] M. Zaimis's deposition on oath at the judicial investigation instituted by the Venizelos Government in 1919. Cp. Sarrail, p. 152.
[11]White Book, Nos. 158-60.
[12]White Book, Nos. 161-5.
[13] "The King, having no illusions as to the result of an election," says M. Venizelos, in theNew Europe, 29 March, 1917, "organized, in connivance with the Germans and Bulgarians, the invasion of Western and Eastern Macedonia. As the Liberals thus lost about sixty seats, the King might hope . . . to secure at least some semblance of success at the coming elections." On the first opportunity that the people of Macedonia, Eastern and Western alike, had of expressing their opinion—at the elections of 14 Nov., 1920—they did not return a single Venizelist.—See Reuter, Athens, 15 Nov., 1920.
[14] For the Greek original, see theHesperia, 1 Sept., 1916. A much longer text, apparently elaborated at leisure, with a colourless English translation, was published by the Anglo-Hellenic League.
[15] Sarrail, pp. 152-4; Official statement by the Revolutionary Committee, Reuter, Salonica, 31 Aug., 1916.
[16] Du Fournet, pp. 99-104, 122-4, 127, 129.
{114}
Rumania's policy had always been regarded by the Greeks as of capital importance for their own; and as soon as she took the field, King Constantine, though suffering from a recrudescence of the malady that had nearly killed him in the previous year, set to work to consider whether her adhesion did not make such a difference in the military situation as to enable him to abandon neutrality. Two or three days before the arrival of the Allied Fleet he had initiated conversations in that sense with the Allied Ministers.[1]
Simultaneously the question of a war Government came up for discussion; the actual Cabinet being, by order of the Allies, a mere business Ministry charged only to carry on the administration until the election of a new Parliament.
Two alternatives were suggested. The first, which found warm favour in Entente circles, was that M. Zaimis should lay down the cares of office and make place for M. Venizelos. Constantine was advised to "bend his stubborn will to the inevitable and remain King of the Hellenes"—that is, to become an ornamental captain—by abandoning the ship of State to the management of the wise Cretan. "It is now possible," the homily ran, "that the precipitation of events will prevent the return of M. Venizelos by the voice of the electorate." But that did not signify: "M. Venizelos can count on the backing of nine-tenths of the nation, given a semblance of Royal support." [1] In less trenchant language, the British Minister at Athens expounded the same thesis.
But Constantine showed little inclination to perform this noble act of self-effacement. On no account would {115} he have a dictator imposed upon him to shape the fortunes of Greece according to his caprice, unfettered by "military advisers of limited perceptions." If Greece was to have a dictator, the King had said long ago, he would rather be that dictator; though he had no objection to a Cabinet with a Venizelist admixture. In fact, he insisted on M. Venizelos accepting a share in the responsibility of war, either by himself sitting in the Cabinet or by permitting three of his friends to represent him in it. "It will not do," he said frankly, "to have his crowd standing out, trying to break up the army and making things difficult by criticizing the Government." [3]
The other alternative was that M. Zaimis should be invested with political functions; but for this the consent of the Allies and of their protégé was needed. The latter, in his oration of 27 August, had magnanimously declared himself willing, provided his policy were adopted, to leave the execution of it in the hands of M. Zaimis, whose honesty and sincerity remained above all suspicion: "the Liberal Party," he had said, "are prepared to back this Cabinet of Affairs with their political authority." On being asked by M. Zaimis to explain precisely what he meant, M. Venizelos broached the subject of elections. As already seen, he and the Allies had reason to regret and to elude the test which they had exacted. It was, therefore, not surprising that M. Venizelos should stipulate, with the concurrence of the Entente Ministers, that the elections now imminent be postponed to the Greek Kalends.[4] By accepting this condition, M. Zaimis obtained a promise of support; and straightway (2 Sept.) proceeded to sound London and Paris.
Before making any formal proposal, he wanted to know if the Western Powers would at least afford Greece the money and equipment which she required in order to prepare with a view to eventual action. England welcomed these overtures, convinced that thus all misunderstandings between Greece and the Allies would vanish; {116} but, before giving a definite reply, she had to communicate with France. France manifested the greatest satisfaction; but M. Briand urged that there was no time for negotiations: the vital interests of Greece demanded immediate action: she should hasten to make a formal declaration without delay; after which he would do all that was necessary to provide her, as soon as possible, with money and material. M. Zaimis in his very first dispatch had said: "Unfortunately the state of our finances and of our military organization does not permit us to think of immediate action: we need a certain delay for preparation"; and all the exhortations of M. Briand to leap first and look afterwards failed to move him. Besides the matter of equipment—a matter in which the Entente Powers, owing to their own necessities, had been the reverse of liberal to their small allies, as Belgium and Servia had already found, and Rumania was about to find to her cost—there was another point Greek statesmen and strategists had to weigh very carefully before committing themselves: would Rumania co-ordinate her military action with theirs? Unless she were inclined and able to divert enough forces from the Austro-Hungarian to the Bulgarian frontier, her entry into the War could not be of any help to them. So, after nine days' correspondence, we find M. Zaimis still writing: "When the English answer arrives, the Royal Government will take account of it in the examination in which it will engage before taking a definite decision—a decision which will be subordinated to its military preparations and to the course of war operations in the East." [5]
Directly afterwards (11 Sept.) M. Zaimis resigned "for reasons of health." These reasons convinced no one: everyone agreed in ascribing his withdrawal to his discovery that he was the victim of duplicity; but as to whose duplicity, opinions differed. According to M. Venizelos, while the conversations about entering the War went on, King Constantine, in consequence of a telegram from the {117} Kaiser assuring him that within a month the Germans would have overrun Rumania and flung Sarrail's army into the sea, and asking him to hold out, reverted to the policy of neutrality; and M. Zaimis, realizing that he was being fooled, refused to play the King's game and resigned.[6] For this statement we have M. Venizelos's authority; and against it that of M. Zaimis, who, on hearing from Paris that his resignation gave rise to the supposition that the old policy had prevailed, replied: "My impression is that the Cabinet which will succeed me will not quit the line of policy which I have pursued." [7]
Another account connected the fall of the Cabinet with an incident which occurred at that critical moment and strained the situation to the utmost. In the evening of 9 September, as the Entente Ministers held a conference in the French Legation, a score of scallywags rushed into the courtyard, shouting "Long live the King! Down with France and England!" fired a few revolver shots in the air, and bolted. Immediately M. Zaimis hastened to the Legation and expressed his regrets. But that did not suffice to placate the outraged honour of the French Republic. Despite the objections of his colleagues, M. Guillemin had a detachment of bluejackets landed to guard the Legation; and next day a Note was presented to the Greek Premier demanding that the perpetrators of this grave breach of International Law should be discovered and punished, and that all Reservists' leagues should instantly be broken up. It was even proposed that the King should be asked to issue a Proclamation disavowing and condemning the demonstration. Inquiry proved that the demonstration was the work ofagents provocateursin the pay of the French Secret Service which acted in the interest of M. Venizelos.
Whereupon, M. Zaimis, realizing that the negotiations he was trying to conduct could not be sincere on the part of the French, begged to be relieved of his mandate. The King was loth to let him go. The British Minister was equally upset, and added his plea to that of the Sovereign. M. Zaimis said that, if M. Guillemin disavowed {118} the intrigue and displayed a willingness to continue the negotiations in a spirit of candour, he would remain; but M. Guillemin could not bring himself to go so far.[8]
Whatever may be the truth in this matter—for, owing to lack of documentary evidence, it is impossible fully to ascertain the truth—the whole position, for a man of M. Zaimis's character, was untenable: if sense of duty had prompted him to take up the burden, common-sense counselled him to lay it down. So he resigned; and the fat was once more in the fire—and the blaze and the stench were greater than ever; for his resignation synchronized with another untoward event.
Colonel Hatzopoulos with his own and the Serres Division had for some time past been isolated at Cavalla—the Bulgars occupying the forts on one side, while the British blockaded the harbour on the other. Suddenly, upon a false report that King Constantine had fled to Larissa and Venizelos was master at Athens, the demeanour of the Bulgars, which had always been harsh, became thoroughly hostile. They strengthened their outposts, cut off the food supplies that came from Drama and Serres, and, on 6 September, demanded that the heights immediately above the town still held by the Greeks should be abandoned to them, on the plea that otherwise they would be unable to defend themselves in case of an Entente landing: refusal would be considered an unfriendly act. As his orders forbade resistance, Colonel Hatzopoulos had no choice but to yield. Thus the Greeks were reduced to absolute helplessness; and their isolation was completed on 9 September, when British sailors landed and destroyed the wireless station.
The worst was yet to come. Next morning (10 Sept.) a German officer peremptorily notified Colonel Hatzopoulos on the part of Marshal von Hindenburg that, as the Greek troops scattered over Eastern Macedonia obstructed the operations of the Bulgarian army, they should all be concentrated at Drama. Colonel Hatzopoulos, perceiving that compliance meant captivity in the hands of the Bulgars, asked that, as his instructions were that all the troops should concentrate at Cavalla, and as he could not act otherwise without orders from the King, he might be {119} allowed to send a messenger to Athens via Monastir. This being refused on the ground that the journey would take too long, he pleaded his inability to decide about so grave a matter on his own initiative, but must call a council of the principal officers. Meanwhile, in order to avoid capture by the Bulgars, he asked if, should they decide to surrender, Hindenburg would guarantee their transportation to Germany with their arms. The German promised to communicate with headquarters and to let him know the answer on the following morning.
Evidently the invaders, who would formerly have been more than content with the withdrawal of the Greek forces, were now—in violation of the pledges given to Athens by the German and Bulgarian Governments—resolved on making such withdrawal impossible. It is not hard to account for this change. The pledges were given in the belief that Greece would continue neutral. This belief had been shaken not only by the Venizelist movement, but more severely still by M. Zaimis's soundings of the Entente Powders. The Greek Premier had from the first insisted on secrecy, stating among the main reasons which rendered absolute discretion imperative, "the presence in part of our territory of the eventual adversary," and "the need to extricate two divisions and a large quantity of material" from their grip.[9] Nevertheless, the Entente Press gloried in the hope that the Allies would soon have the only non-belligerent Balkan State fighting on their side, and the principal Entente news agency trumpeted abroad M. Zaimis's confidential conversations.[10] Hence the desire of the Germano-Bulgars to prevent the escape of men and material that might at any moment be used against them.
On the other hand, the Greek officers' council decided {120} to try first every means of escape, and only if that proved impossible to comply with the German demand on condition that they should be taken to Germany and not be left in the hands of the Bulgars. Accordingly, Colonel Hatzopoulos addressed a most earnest appeal to the British for vessels to get his men away to Volo or the Piraeus, and, having received a promise to that effect, he secretly arranged for flight. In the night of 10 September all the men with their belongings gathered on the sea-front ready to leave. But they reckoned without the partisans of M. Venizelos in their midst. One of them, the Commandant of the Serres Division, a month ago had informed General Sarrail that he would fight on the side of the Allies,[11] and another on 5 September, in a nocturnal meeting on board a British man-of-war, had proposed to kidnap Colonel Hatzopoulos, arm volunteers, and attack the Bulgars with the aid of Allied detachments landed at Cavalla. His proposal having been rejected, it was agreed that all "patriotic" elements should be transported to Salonica. In pursuance of this agreement, only those were allowed to embark who were willing to rebel. Those who refused to break their oath of allegiance to their King were turned adrift. Some tried to gain the island of Thasos, but their boats were carried to the open sea and capsized, drowning many, the rest got back to the shore in despair.
As a last hope of escape, Colonel Hatzopoulos begged the British naval authorities, who controlled all means of communication between Cavalla and Athens, to transmit to his Government a message asking if he might surrender to the British and be interned in the isle of Thasos. The message was duly transmitted through the British Legation on 11 September, and in reply the Greek Minister of War, after an understanding with the British authorities, ordered him through the same channel to embark at once with all his men and, if possible, material for Volo, on Greek ships by preference, but if such were not available, on any other ships. Whether these orders were never forwarded, or whether they reached their destination too late, is not quite clear. It is certain, however, that during the critical hours when the fate of the unhappy soldiers hung in the balance, the British Fleet did not permit embarkation {121} except to the few who joined the Rebellion.[12] For the loyal majority there was nothing left but the way to Drama.
Nor was any time allowed for vacillation. When, in the morning of 11 September, Colonel Hatzopoulos met the German officer, the latter handed to him a telegram from Hindenburg, guaranteeing the transport of the Greeks to Germany with their arms, where they would be treated as guests. He added that the departure from Cavalla would not be enforced for the present. But in the afternoon he intimated that this was due to a misunderstanding, and that they should leave the same night. Their efforts to escape had obviously become known to the Germans, who, taking no chances, imposed immediate departure under threat to cancel Hindenburg's guarantee. Thus, the two Greek divisions were under compulsion huddled off to Drama, whence, joined by the division stationed there, they were taken to Germany and interned at Goerlitz.[13]
Nothing that had hitherto happened served so well to blacken the rulers of Greece in the eyes of the Entente publics, and the mystery which enveloped the affair facilitated the propagation of fiction. It was asserted that the surrendered troops amounted to 25,000—even to 40,000: figures which were presently reduced to "some 8,000: three divisions, each composed of three regiments of 800 men each." The surrender was represented as made by order of the Athens Government: King Constantine, out of affection for Germany and Bulgaria, and hate of {122} France and England, had given up, not only rich territories he himself had conquered, but also the soldiers he had twice led to victory.
In point of fact, as soon as the Athens Government heard of the catastrophe—and it did not hear of it until after the arrival of the first detachment in Germany—it addressed to Berlin a remonstrance, disavowing the step of Colonel Hatzopoulos as contrary to his orders, and denying Germany's right to keep him as contrary to International Law: "for Greece being in peaceful and friendly relations with Germany, the Greek troops can neither be treated as prisoners of war nor be interned, internment being only possible in a neutral country, and only with regard to belligerent troops—not vice versa." The dispatch ended with a request that "our troops with their arms and baggage be transported to the Swiss frontier, whence they may go to some Mediterranean port and return to Greece on ships which we shall send for the purpose." [14]
Berlin answered that she "was ready to meet the desire of the Greek Government, but actual and effective guarantees would have to be given that the troops under German protection would not be prevented by the Entente Powers from returning to their fatherland, and would not be punished for their loyal and neutral feeling and action." [15] This because the Entente press was angrily denouncing the step as a "disgraceful desertion" and asking "with what ignominious penalty their War Lord has visited so signal and so heinous an act of mutiny, perjury, and treason on the part of his soldiers" [16]—the soldiers who went to Germany precisely in order to avoid committing an act of mutiny, perjury, and treason. Truly, in time of war words change their meaning.
[1] SeeConstantine I and the Greek People. By Paxton Hibben, an American journalist who took part in these diplomatic transactions, pp. 281-90.
[2] See Crawfurd Price, Athens, 1 Sept., in thePall Mall Gazette, 15 Sept., 1916.
[3] Paxton Hibben, p. 289.
[4] "La question de la dissolution de la Chambre fut écartée. . . . De plus tout faisait supposer que de nouvelles élections ne seraient pas favorables an parti venizéliste, dont la cause était si intimement liée à la nôtre."—Du Fournet, pp. 121-2; Paxton Hibben, pp. 278-9, 306-7.
[5] Zaimis to Greek Legations, Paris and London, 20 Aug./2 Sept.; Rome, Bucharest, Petrograd, 29 Aug./11 Sept. Romanos, Paris, 20 Aug./2 Sept., 22 Aug./4 Sept., 25 Aug./7 Sept., 26 Aug./8 Sept. Gennadius, London, 22 Aug./4 Sept., 25 Aug./7 Sept., 1916.
[6] TheNew Europe, 29 March, 1917.
[7] Romanos, Paris, 31 Aug./13 Sept.; Zaimis, Athens, 1/14 Sept., 1916.
[8] Paxton Hibben, pp. 313-19; Du Fournet, pp. 119-21, 129.
[9] Zaimis to Greek Legations, Paris and London, 20 Aug./2 Sept., 1916. All his dispatches are marked "strictly confidential and to be deciphered by the Minister himself." The replies are to be addressed to him personally, and for greater security, must be prefaced by some meaningless groups of figures.
[10] See messages from the Athens Correspondents ofThe Timesand theDaily Chronicle, 3 Sept.; Reuter, Athens, 9 Sept., 1916. In view of the strict censorship exercised during the war and in view of the Franco-Venizelist anxiety to rush Greece into a rupture these indiscretions can hardly be considered accidental.
[11] Sarrail, p. 152.
[12] King Constantine has publicly taxed the Allies with not forwarding the orders (seeThe Times, 8 Nov., 1920). On the other hand, there is on record a statement by Vice-Consul Knox that the orders were forwarded from Athens and that he himself delivered them at Cavalla. Cp. Admiral Dartige du Fournet: "Au moment ou les Grecs virent les Bulgares en marche sur Cavalla, Us voulurent embarquer lews troupes et leur matériel. L'amiral anglais qui commandait en mer Egée leur refusa son concours, espérant sans doute les déeterminer à se défendre. Quand, se rendant un compte plus exact de la situation, il donna son assentiment à cette évacuation, il étaii trop tard: les Bulgares entraient à Cavalla le jour même."—Du Fournet, p. 151.
[13] My chief sources of information concerning this event are a Report by Col. Hatzopoulos to Marshal von Hindenburg, dated "Goerlitz, 13/26 Oct., 1916," and another report drawn up at Athens in July, 1921, from the records of the judicial investigation instituted by the Venizelos Government in 1919, including the evidence of the British Vice-Consul G. G. Knox.
[14]White Book, No. 173.
[15] Telegram from Berlin reported by Renter's Amsterdam Correspondent, 23 Sept., 1916. I find this confirmed by a dispatch from the Greek Minister at Berlin (Theotokis, Berlin, 18/31 Oct., 1916), in which he gives an account of his efforts to obtain from the German Government the return of the troops and restitution of the war material, as well as the Greek officers' protests to Hindenburg and Ludendorff against the pressure under which they had been hurried from Cavalla. It is to be regretted that M. Venizelos did not find room for this document and for Col. Hatzopoulos's illuminating Report in hisWhite Book.
[16] Leading article inThe Times, 19 Sept., 1916.
{123}
Meanwhile the unfortunate King of Greece was faced by a state of things which he himself describes with admirable lucidity in a dispatch to his brother Andrew, then in London, labouring, vainly enough, to obtain a fair hearing for the Royalist side, while another brother, Prince Nicholas, was engaged on a similar mission at Petrograd. The document is dated 3/16 September, 1916, and runs thus:
"The resignation of the Cabinet of M. Zaimis, who enjoyed my absolute confidence, as well as the unanimous confidence of the country, and whom the Entente Governments declared to me that they surrounded with their entire sympathy, has rendered the situation very difficult.
"I charged M. Dimitracopoulos to form a new Cabinet. He declared himself ready to continue the conversations opened recently by M. Zaimis in the hope of bringing them to a happy conclusion. Before accepting definitely, he thought it necessary to sound the views of the Powers on important questions of an internal order, and went to thedoyenof the Diplomatic Corps, the British Minister, whence he carried away a very clear impression that, not only the coercive measures would not be raised before mobilization, but that they might be intensified, notably by direct interference in personal domestic questions, and that, even after mobilization, the measures would be only relaxed. As to the question of elections, after having demanded by the Note of 8 (21) June the dissolution of the Chamber and new elections, which we accepted, now they demand that the elections shall not take place, without, at the same time, allowing the existing Chamber to meet. M. Dimitracopoulos has laid down his mandate.
"Under these conditions the situation becomes inextricable. The military and naval authorities of the Entente foment and encourage in the country a revolution and armed sedition, and they favour by every means the {124} Salonica movement by continuing the vexatious measures and restricting all freedom of thought and action. The Entente Ministers paralyze all Government. Thus the country is pushed towards anarchy.
"Such conduct not only conflicts with the assurances which they have given us, but excludes all practical possibility of reconsidering our policy freely to the end of taking a decision in a favourable direction. For the rest, Greece divided would not be of any use as an ally. It is necessary that there should return in the country comparative calm and the feeling of independence, indispensable for taking extreme resolutions. It is necessary that confidence in the sympathy of the Entente should be restored. A resolution to participate in the war taken under present circumstances would run the risk of being attributed to violence and of being received with mistrust. More, that resolutions may be taken without danger of disaster, there is need of circumspection and discretion, so as not to provoke an attack from the Germano-Bulgars who are in our territory, before we are ready to lend real assistance to the Entente. A more definite declaration of principle, which would have to be kept secret in the common interest, would be of no practical value.
"Under certain circumstances, rendering the participation of Greece useful and conformable to our interests, I have already declared that I am ready to enter into the war on the side of the Entente. I am ready to envisage negotiations in this sense. But, before all, I need, that I may be able to occupy myself usefully and with a certain mental calmness with foreign questions, to see comparative quiet restored at home, and so to save the appearances of liberty of action. In this I ask, for the sake of the common interest, the Powers to give me their help.
"I have charged M. Calogeropoulos to form a Ministry: he is equally animated by the best intentions towards the Entente."
The new Premier, who had already held office with distinction as Minister of the Interior and as Minister of Finance, possessed every qualification for the delicate task entrusted to him. On the day of his accessionThe TimesCorrespondent wrote of him: "In the Chamber he is highly esteemed. Although he is a Theotokist, and {125} therefore anti-Venizelist, M. Calogeropoulos, who studied in France, declared to me that all his personal sympathies are with the Entente. He is likewise a member of the Franco-Greek League." [1] In harmony with this character was his programme: "The new Cabinet, inspired by the same policy as M. Zaimis, is resolved to pursue it with the sincere desire to tighten the bonds between Greece and the Entente Powers." This declaration, made in every Allied capital, was supplemented by a more intimate announcement in Paris and London: "Sharing the views which inspired the negotiations opened by its predecessor, the Royal Government is resolved to pursue them in the same spirit." [2]
No sooner had M. Calogeropoulos spoken than M. Venizelos set to work to cast doubts on his sincerity, with remarkable success: "M. Venizelos does not believe that the composition of the new Ministry permits of the hope that a national policy will be adopted, since it springs from a party of pro-German traditions," [3]—this ominous paragraph was added by theTimesCorrespondent to his report the same day. And next day the British Minister, in an interview with the editor of a Venizelist journal, said: "The situation is certainly not an agreeable one. I have read in the papers the declaration of the new Premier. What has surprised me is to find that M. Calogeropoulos characterized his Ministry as a political one, whereas in their last Note the Allies required that Greece should be governed by a business Cabinet. This, as you see, makes a distinct difference." [4] Simultaneously, the Entente Press, under similar inspiration, reviled the new Cabinet as pro-German, clamoured for M. Venizelos, whom they still represented as the true exponent of the national will, threatened King Constantine with the fate of King Otho, and his country with "terrible and desperate things." [5]
{126}
It was in such an atmosphere that M. Calogeropoulos and his colleagues attempted to resume the conversations which M. Zaimis had opened. They realized that, since elections and like legal methods no longer commended themselves to the Allies, since they menaced the country with "terrible and desperate things," Greece might drift into chaos at any moment. They were anxious to avoid chaos. But how? A blind acceptance of the Venizelist policy of an immediate rush into the War, without regard to ways and means, might prove tantamount to burning one's blanket in order to get rid of the fleas: while saving Greece from the coercion of the French and the British, it might expose her to subjugation by the Germans and the Bulgars: the plight of Rumania afforded a fresh warning. They therefore adopted the only course open to sane men.
On 19 September Greece formally offered to the Entente Powers "to come in as soon as by their help she had accomplished the repair of her military forces, within a period fixed by common accord." But, "as her armed intervention could not, obviously, be in the interest of anyone concerned, unless it took place with chances of success, the Royal Government thinks that Greece should not be held to her engagement, if at the time fixed the Balkan theatre of war presented, in the opinion of the Allies' General Staffs themselves, such a disequilibrium of forces as the military weight of Greece would be insufficient to redress." [6]
Russia received these advances with cordiality, her Premier declaring to the Greek Minister at Petrograd that she would be happy to have Greece for an ally, and that the Tsar had full confidence in the sentiments of King Constantine. He added that he would immediately communicate with Paris and London.[7] There was the rub. French and British statesmen affected to regard the offer as a ruse for gaining time: they could not trust a Cabinet three members of which they considered to be ill-disposed towards the Entente: a "national policy" {127} should be carried out by a "national Cabinet"—that is, by M. Venizelos.[8]
While frustrating his country's efforts to find a way out of the pass into which he had intrigued it, the Cretan and his partisans did not neglect other forms of activity. We have seen that rebellion had already broken out at Salonica. In Athens itself the walls were pasted with Venizelist newspapers in the form of placards displaying headlines such as these: "A LAST APPEAL TO THE KING!" "DRAW THE SWORD, O KING, OR ABDICATE!" It was no secret that arms and ammunition were stored in private houses, that the French Intelligence Service had a depot of explosives in a ship moored at the Piraeus, and a magazine of rifles and grenades in its headquarters at the French School of Athens.[9] The Royalist journals threatened the Venizelists with condign punishment for their treasonable designs. The Venizelist journals, far from denying the charge, replied that they would be fully justified in arming themselves against the hostile Reservist Leagues. In short, the capital swarmed with conspirators, but the guardians of public order were powerless, owing to the proximity of the Allied naval guns, ready to enforce respect for the Allied flags under whose protection the conspiracy was carried on. By this time the French and British detectives had usurped the powers and inverted the functions of the police organs;[10] and the French and {128} British agents, after fomenting those fatal differences which divide and degrade a people, had developed into directors of plots and organizers of sedition.
But, in spite of such encouragement, the capital—or, indeed, any part of Old Greece—had never appealed to M. Venizelos as a starting-point of sedition. He knew that only in the recently acquired and as yet imperfectly assimilated regions—regions under the direct influence of the Allies—he could hope to rebel with safety. His plan embraced, besides Salonica, the islands conquered in 1912, particularly his native Crete. In that home of immemorial turbulence his friends, seconded by British Secret Service and Naval officers, had found many retired bandits eager to resume work. Even there, it is true, public opinion was not strikingly favourable to disloyalty; but the presence of the British Fleet in Suda Bay had much of persuasion in it.[11]