Sunday, 30 June 2019

The Treaty of Versailles 5: The Fall Out


Following Germany's signature, the Treaty of Versailles had been endorsed by signatories from all thirty two nations except one. The exception was not Italy, who had been mollified pending further discussions, but China, whose delegates had returned home in disgust. In turn nearly all of those signatories’ governments, with widely varying enthusiasm, ratified the agreements. Germany’s assent perhaps only confirmed their realisation that they could have done nothing to stop the threatened invasion and occupation of Germany had they refused. There was much unfinished business, and not just with Italy. Further negotiations and treaties would be required for Europe, Africa, the Middle East and Asia (See Appendix), but the main players were keen to leave the stage.

Wilson, Lloyd George and Clemenceau left for home that evening, and by the next day Wilson was crossing the Atlantic. His was to be one of the few ‘governments’ that would not ratify. With supreme irony, the creator of the League of Nations was unable to persuade his own Senate to agree to its charter, Republican opposition to it being marshalled by Henry Cabot Lodge. An exhausted Wilson arrived home to this crisis, and within weeks had left on a punishing national tour to raise support for his beloved League. Not quite half way through the tour he collapsed with a severe stroke. Hospitalised for weeks, he remained unable to govern meaningfully until the end of his term of office.  The USA never signed the League Charter and never joined the League. They signed a separate peace Treaty of Berlin with the Germans later in 1919.

Both Lloyd George and Clemenceau found their authority lessened rather than enhanced by the Treaty.
Embittered - Marshall Foch 1919  
A raging Foch, with his forces in eastern France made his famous statement on hearing news of the signing “this is not peace, but an armistice for twenty years”. This proved uncannily accurate, but Foch died a few years before he could say ‘I told you so’. Lloyd George’s economic adviser Keynes resigned in disgust, and by the end of 1919 had published his scathing (and influential) book The Economic Consequences of the Peace. Predictably, it was widely welcomed in Germany. The 20 billion goldmark figure in the Treaty was an interim and composite figure that summarised any number of complexities and staging. Of the eventual agreed figure of £6.6bn only around half was ever paid. France’s greatest economic compensation came from their occupation of the Saar and Ruhr coalfields.
The German overseas colonies were distributed, mainly between Britain and France – who also established their mandates in the Middle East, contributing to the conditions for the problems that have continued for over 100years.
The tragic destruction of Smyrna (Izmir) 1923 

 Perhaps the most tragic outcome came from Lloyd George’s unstinting support for the Venizelos Greek expansionism plans. A bitter four years was followed, culminating in the massacres and destruction of Smyrna (Izmir) in 1923, and the emergence of modern Turkey. Britain’s loss of prestige in the treaty that followed (see Appendix) would be a further blow to Lloyd George’s waning popularity.
The Paris Peace Conference and Treaty of Versailles produced a suitably dramatic and controversial closure to the First World War. Many mistake and misjudgements were made, but much was achieved. Considering the complexities and the scale of the issues, is it really fair to hold the Treaty responsible for an even worse Second World War and, by implication, all that has followed 1945? Marshall Foch thought so, but we don’t have to.
Final word to Margaret Macmillan:

The Peacemakers of 1919 made mistakes of course. By their offhand treatment of the non European world, they stirred up resentment for which the West is still paying today. They took pains over the borders in Europe, even if they did not draw them to everyone’s satisfaction, but in Africa they carried on the old practice of handing out territory to suit the imperial powers. In the Middle East, they threw together peoples, in Iraq most notably, who have still not managed to cohere into a civil society. If they could have done better, they certainly could have done much worse. They tried, even cynical old Clemenceau, to build a better order. They could not foresee the future, and they certainly could not control it. That was up to their successors.
(p493 Paris 1919)

Friday, 28 June 2019

The Treaty of Versailles 4: Germany Signs


Orpen's famous painting of the signing ceremony in
the Hall of Mirrors, Versaillles
Germany, of course, was not a participant in the Paris Peace Conference. Like the Austrian and Ottoman governments the delegates had to await their summons to Paris to receive the terms of the treaty. Six months elapsed between the Armistice and their arrival in Paris. During that time, despite the turbulence and threat of revolution, a German socialist republic government had functioned with the grudging support of the army, and a cautious optimism had appeared. After all, their leaders told them, they had not been defeated in the field; not been invaded, and the authoritative President Wilson was calling for a ‘just peace’. Further encouragement came in March, when neutral Netherlands refused to extradite Kaiser Wilhelm to face war criminal charges.
Having been faced down over the Kaiser, the European leaders were more determined to make the Germans pay in terms of penalties, reparations and lost territory. Lloyd George (and to some extent British public opinion) was softening a little, but in France the opposite was the case. Italy was unyielding in demanding full reparations and the lure of extensive territories that induced them to sign the Treaty of London in 1915 (see Post 7/7/2015). Wilson’s attempts to mediate using his principles and points led to arguments and a general rise in tension. Punishment, payment and reparation all had to be resolved and agreed.
The full conference comprised delegates from 32 countries and met only eight times, always to ratify decisions taken by the Supreme Council. Not surprisingly this caused some unhappiness, particularly when that Council was soon reduced from ten to four members (See Post 18/6/2019). In contrast, the Council of four met over 150 times, before Orlando’s walk out reduced it to the Council of Three. All of this took place in an intense period from March to early May, when the competing demands summarised in the previous post had to be slotted in alongside consideration of main clauses of the settlement with Germany.

By the end of March, the Supreme Council had ditched, first, the Japanese, and then the Foreign Ministers. They may have hoped that excluding the aggressive and obstinate Italian Foreign Minister Sonnino would lower the temperature, and lead to some compromises in the Italian demands. But
Vittorio Orlando.
Urbane Italian PM.
Orlando remained under the grip of Sonnino (and even more strident Italian public opinion). Italy viewed the Treaty of London as a sacred promise against their commitment, and subsequent losses, in the war. Wilson had made it clear early on that he regarded it as of little standing alongside his principle of self determination. Lloyd George and Clemenceau were annoyed and embarrassed by their predecessors’ loose undertakings that promised Italy much of Austria, especially its Adriatic coast; large areas of Albania; a slice of Turkey (sic), numbers of Greek Islands including the Dodecanese; part of North Africa and even part of Jerusalem. As the weeks passed the relationship between Wilson and Clemenceau also deteriorated, and they were frequently at odds. The former was furious that Wilson, in his view, prioritised the League of Nations over dealing with Germany. He had also upset his own military leader Marshall Foch by excluding him from the French delegation to the Conference. Foch was fulminating on the sidelines, calling for measures to enforce the Armistice terms (in his opinion Germany was not complying) and for an occupation of the Rhineland.
The two big questions to be addressed were border changes and the agreement of financial penalties, damages and reparations. To facilitate these, Germany would first have to accept the blame for the pre-war machinations that led to war (this would appear as the infamous Article 31 of the treaty – the guilt clause). She would also have to accept massive reductions in military and industrial strength, in the interests of future peace. Clemenceau argued hardest for major border changes in the west, between France and Germany. The return of Alsace and Lorraine was a given, but France also wanted Germany to stay to the east of the Rhine, and so all the industrial areas of the Rhineland and Saar basin were included. There was a strong case for all the German coal production there to be allocated to France (and Belgium) as replacement for the mines in the war zone destroyed by the Germans during their retreat. To Germany’s east, a new Poland required concession of land in Prussia and Silesia. To provide for Wilson’s promise of sea access would mean leaving East Prussia as a coastal enclave within Poland. Again, France was most strongly in favour of harsh measures. Clemenceau backed Polish negotiator Dmowski’s submission for a ‘greater’ Poland (see Post 22/6/2019). He wanted a strong Poland at Germany’s eastern border to compensate for the loss of his erstwhile ally Russia. As with Germany’s west there were important industrial and agricultural considerations, and everywhere there was the thorny issue of ethnic and national minorities, exposed by shifting borders.
Assessing how much Germany should pay – and who should receive how much payment – was an even greater nightmare. Germany was bankrupt; her people were close to starvation, and much of her industrial capacity was about to be removed. There was a limit to what could be paid, regardless of how much should be. On the other hand, the allies were also bankrupt, or close to it with war debts, and if Germany did not pay, how could they ask their own taxpayers to do so? Britain had spent by far the most of the European allies, but France had lost the most, and had the enormous task of rebuilding a large chunk of the country (as did Belgium on a smaller scale). The inevitable compromise requirements would satisfy no-one.
Nevertheless, there was good progress through April, as spring arrived in Paris, lifting peoples’ spirits. Despite Orlando’s growing unhappiness with lack of progress on Italy’s demands, the other three felt sufficiently confident to invite the Germans to attend the conference and receive the terms in early May. Orlando really dug in his heels on the need for a decision in favour of Italy’s claim to Dalmatia (much of today’s Croatian coastline, including the ports of Trieste and Fiume). Occupation of the old Austro-Hungarian port of Fiume had become the emotional focus of Italian nationalism, inciting large public demonstrations across Italy.  On 24th April, Orlando walked out of the Supreme Council discussion and returned, with Sonnino, to Rome. He would return thirteen days later, but the resulting press coverage was an embarrassment to the remaining three leaders at a most sensitive time.
Ulrich von Brockdorff-Rantzau.
Led the first German delegation, but
not the second. Remind you of anyone?
Orlando had not re-appeared by the time of the next drama – the first appearance of the German delegation. On Sunday 4th May, a meeting of the full Conference had rubber stamped the Big three’s terms for Germany. The summons for Germany was thereby confirmed for 7th May, which just happened to be the fourth anniversary of the sinking of the Lusitania – one of the most egregious acts of the war. The Germans were to be allowed two weeks to comment and respond to the terms. The German delegation was led by Ulrich von Brockdorff-Rantzau, an old school diplomat now Foreign Minister in Ebert’s Socialist led coalition government (See Post 7/11/2018). He sat with his colleagues at the central table of the conference room while Clemenceau stiffly read out the main terms. Awkwardness and delays in translation meant that it was a little while before the shock and distress of the Germans became apparent.
Bockhorff-Rantzau stumbled through a prepared response before he and his colleagues withdrew in disarray. As the news filtered out, reactions in Germany were predictably of disbelief and outrage. Wilson in particular was vilified, and went from Germany’s great hope to despicable traitor overnight. There was political and civil unrest, but Ebert kept his nerve, and within two weeks produced a comprehensive set of objections and counter-proposals. The onus was now on the allies to respond. The first two weeks of June were filled with animated, often bitter, discussions within the allied governments. Wilson was conciliatory towards Germany, and was perhaps more alarmed by the hostile reception his League of Nations Charter was receiving in Washington. Clemenceau and his government  remained hawkish, the bitterness being over how hawkish. Lloyd George came under pressure to conciliate. Senior advisers including the economist John Maynard Keynes argued that a stable and peaceful Germany posed less danger than a starving revolutionary one. In the end only minor concessions were made, the main one being to grant plebiscites in some areas with large German minorities as in Silesia. In that period Orlando’s government in Rome fell because of public anger and disenchantment.
Scuppered at Scapa. A grisly
end to WW1 at sea
The Germans were given one week from 16th June to agree to the revised terms, or to face invasion. More uproar followed in Germany. Ebert’s coalition fell apart. On June 21st the German Fleet anchored in Scapa Flow, where it had been since surrendering to the British Fleet on 11th November, scuttled itself rather than pass into the ownership of the British. Over 400,000 tons of shipping went to the depths of the Scottish sea. On 22nd June, Ebert cobbled together another coalition that wearily agreed to the terms with the exception of the guilt clause. The Paris response was a flat repetition of its previous ultimatum.

And so it was, on the morning of 28th June - exactly five years on from Sarajevo -  that people crowded into the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles Palace for the denouement. To the new German Foreign Ministers Johannes Bell and Hermann Mueller fell the doubtful honour of signing acceptance to one of history’s most famous documents. The full list of articles is included as an appendix, but the main clauses pertaining to Germany were:

  • Acceptance of blame for causation of the war (Article 231)
  • ·      Reparations for the losses and damage done of 20 Billion Gold marks, an interim figure (worth approx. £2 billion at the time) that would be worked on further by a commission (ultimately rose to £6.6billions)
  • ·      Loss of territory in Germany and overseas:
                        - Alsace and Lorraine
                        - Saar Coalfields to France for 15 years
                        - Eupen and Malmedy to Belgium
                        - West Prussia and Posen to Poland
                        - east Silesia to Poland
                        - Memel (northern area of East Prussia) to Latvia
                        - all overseas colonies (mainly shared between Britain and France who thereby        temporarily increased their empires)

  • ·      Demilitarised area 50 miles wide in the Rhineland bordering France
  • ·      Allowed no submarines or air force, and a fleet with only a maximum of six capital ships.
  • ·      The army to be restricted to 100,000 men.
  • ·      Membership of the League of Nations not allowed
  • ·      Any union (anschluss) with Austria forbidden

Bell and Mueller signed, and it was done. "Es ist volbracht".

Monday, 24 June 2019

The Treaty of Versailles 3: The Middle East and Asia


The Occupation of Constantinople 1919
Constantinople stood as a strategic symbol of the gateway to the near east and Asia. For centuries it had represented the presence of controlling imperial power – whether Byzantine or Ottoman. In 1919 it was also a microcosm of the challenges facing the Peace Conference in dealing with the world beyond Europe. Leaderless since the surrender of the Ottomans to the British (see Post 8/10/2018), it was nominally under the administration of the British. It was an unstable cauldron, teeming with defeated soldiers of several nationalities, and with refugees and dispossessed itinerants. Britain was really only interested in free passage for its fleets, and was not keen to hold a mandate or protectorate. The Russians had wanted Constantinople since the times of Peter the Great as an outlet to the Mediterranean for their Black Sea fleet. They might even have pressed a spurious claim for control, based on wartime promises made by Britain and France, but for the regime change and Lenin’s preference for world revolution over world domination. Constantinople, like the remainder of the Middle East had to wait for the judgements of Wilson, Clemenceau and Lloyd George, and their advisers. 

In the interim, the Ottoman naval minister Hussein Rauf (who had led the armistice negotiations with the British) persuaded the Sultan Mehmed to take a very compliant approach with the British peace demands. Other Turks became alarmed by this, seeing the danger of losing control of their homelands. Chief among them was the war hero, Mustafa Kemal, who would become known as Ataturk, founder of modern Turkey. In the short term he raised forces for an independent Turkey, and moved its putative capital away for Constantinople to the little known city of Ankara in the interior of Asia Minor. He would prove more than a match for the ambitions of Venizelos in that region (See previous post).
Today's Middle East emerged from the chaos of WW1

Middle East. 
Of the big three leaders at the Conference, Lloyd George had the greatest ambitions for control and influence in the region. Clemenceau was so focused on the Treaty for Germany that other parts of the world were of secondary importance to him (not all of his advisers agreed). Wilson was not enthusiastic to have America involved much beyond the principles of his fourteen points, and viewed imperial land grabbing with distaste.
In the 19th century the British had been content to have a weak Ottoman empire in north Africa and the near east as a buffer between the other great powers and Britain’s possessions in Asia. But a crumbling Ottoman Empire was another matter. In the 1880s, the first signs of Egyptian nationalism prompted the British to invade, to protect their newly acquired asset, the Suez Canal. Cairo, at the heart of their ‘protectorate’ formed the base of the British army in the Middle East for WW1 (the Egyptian Expeditionary Force). As the war progressed the British gradually reversed their mishaps at Gallipoli and Kut, and steadily pushed the Ottomans out of Arabia and Mesopotamia. They made promises to the Arabs and to the Jews (See Post 30/8/2018) along the way but were considering control of the whole area from Suez to the ancient provinces of Baghdad and Basra. The first man to map this out was Sir Mark Sykes, a somewhat eccentric British aristocrat, diplomat and sometime MP. The French had their own ambitions and their diplomat Francois Picot was ordered to represent their interests. The ‘Sykes-Picot Agreement’ of 1916 formed the basis of the carve up between Britain and France, but there were numerous sub-plots involving the Arabs (led by Hashemite King Hussein); the Jews (led by Zionist Chaim Weizmann); the Italians and the Russians. By the time the partition of the Ottoman Empire came to be discussed at the Peace Conference some of the irreconcilable promises were exposed. Clemenceau’s focus on Europe worked in favour of Britain. He was content to concede Mosul to them, provided France kept Syria and Lebanon. Britain kept control of Jordan and Palestine, and now added to Province of Mosul to those of Baghdad and Basra, creating a new, oil rich nation, Iraq.
All this left only Persia (Iran) and Afghanistan between the middle east and India.  With civil war in Russia, the ‘great game’ of the 19th Century between Russia and Britain for control of that region, had swung back to England – for now.
Tsingtao (now Qingdao), Shandong peninsula.
 German colony until 1914, then occupied by
the Japanese.

China. The ancient and closed eras of Chinese civilization, in the centuries since Marco Polo, had been disturbed by European interference (opium wars, Boxer rebellion, German occupation of Tsingtao) and more recently by aggressive Japanese expansion on to the Chinese mainland (in Korea, Manchuria and the Shandong peninsula, including Tsingtao). Japan was taking its place at the Conference as an ally, and was expecting favourable treatment of its further claims on China. However, China at that time was undergoing great change and inner turmoil (that would last for decades). In 1917, previously neutral China had declared war on Germany. This was clever tactical move to forestall further Japanese demands on their territory, set out in a 21 points memorandum. In an even more creative move, China proposed to send ‘labourers not soldiers’ to support the war effort at the front. This made a significant contribution in 1918, when 140,000 Chinese laboured behind the allied lines of the Western Front, freeing up soldiers for front line action. Finding a pragmatic compromise between opponents China and Japan, both of them wartime allies, put a great strain on the big three – Wilson almost had a breakdown. When the decisions came down broadly in favour of Japan, the reaction from China was extreme. Demonstrations in Tiananmen Square were followed by violence and descent into civil war. Neither were the Japanese fully mollified. Their bitterness over the way they had been treated no doubt contributed to the rise of anti-Western Japanese militarism during the 1920s.

India. Britain was by now facing increasing turbulence from nationalism in India. Gandhi had arrived from South Africa during the war and was transforming the Indian National Congress to a mass movement. India’s large muslim population was restless and their reaction to the dismantling of the Sultan’s empire was unpredictable – the Amritsar massacre of 1919 resulted from inter-religious tensions.

Lloyd George may have been winning arguments to enhance Britain’s influence in the world, but resistance in the Dominions and Colonies was increasing, and an exhausted and economically weakened Britain would struggle to retain its power. The Dominions, particularly the Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians, having contributed so much to the war effort were no longer willing to follow unquestioningly the decisions taken in London. They had shocked Lloyd George with their demands for strong representation at the Peace Conference, and the abrasive Australian Prime Minister, Billy Hughes, enjoyed sparring with the Big Three, much to Wilson’s annoyance. He demanded New Guinea and a string of formerly German Pacific islands be voted to Australian control, and his NZ counterpart demanded the same of Samoa.

In today’s management speak, there were many wicked problems lurking in the agenda of the Paris Peace Conference. And yet the headline event and outcome would have to be the signing of the Treaty by Germany, with all the complexities and implications that it would hold. Small wonder that many of the big decisions had to be shelved for further work and later treaties – some successful, some disastrous. Settling with Germany was core business.