Bulow’s Memoirs ¹

BY K. R. SRINIVASA IYENGAR

Prince von Bulow was doubtless the most illustrious of German statesmen after the giant of Friedrichsruh. The Bulows were an ancient family. Young Bernard von Bulow took his first lessons in diplomacy under the great Bismarck himself. Possessed of an unbounded desire to serve his Fatherland, equipped with remarkable powers of understanding, and too, with a natural aptitude for handling delicate situations, Bernard von Bulow steadily climbed the ladder of success and found that success did become him. It was little surprise therefore when he was required by his Imperial master to give up his comfortable post of German ambassador in Rome and asked to shoulder the far more onerous, if also far more distinguished, duties of the Secretaryship of Foreign Affairs in succession to "the man from Baden," the Baron Marschall von Bieberstein. This was in 1897. With his charming personality, his "famous eloquence," his extraordinary knowledge of men and things, and above all his fastidious and accurate understanding of the international situation, Herr von Bulow made a highly competent Secretary of State retaining the utmost confidence of the Kaiser no less than that of the aged and venerable Imperial Chancellor, Prince Hohenlohe. When in October 1900 the aged Prince found that he could not carry on any longer, and had to hand in his resignation, Kaiser Wilhelm II knew that in Secretary of State Count Bulow he had the best successor to Hohenlohe. And from 1900, Bulow was the Imperial Chancellor and Prussian Minister of State, for near a decade. Such was the great confidence which William II reposed in his Chancellor that he once remarked: "Bulow snaIl be my Bismarck." It was the tragedy of the Kaiser's reign and of the German Empire that so capable and experienced statesman should have been succeeded by the weak and ineffectual and unimaginative Bethmann Hollweg. Old Lucanus, the Kaiser's Chief of the Civil Cabinet, as soon as he came to know of Bulow's appointment as Chancellor, was wistful as to how long Kaiser and Chancellor would get on together. On meeting Count Bulow shortly after, he said: "We need a Chancellor who can hold his own in the Reichstag; we need a man who can deal with his adversaries, and who can answer them back, so that the country as a whole can take notice of him. What we need is a personality. . . . The only problem is: how long can a Chancellor, who has a more or less brilliant personality get on with the Kaiser?" Herr von Lucanus "did not speak for a moment." Then he pressed the new Chancellor's hand with the significant statement: "We must leave it to God." After all! the Fates willed it that Bulow's ‘marriage’ with the Kaiser should, in the unhappy days of 1909, end in a divorce and a permanent separation.

Prince von Bulow, after his enforced retirement, did not loge his interest in politics. On the contrary his deep concern for the Fatherland, for the Dynasty, and for the Kaiser made him watch his country's affairs with his accustomed foresight and zeal. He watched with bowed head his country being rushed into one calamity after another. Bethmann and Jagow were undoing all that he had striven for and accomplished. As Herr von Stockhammern points out in his Preface to the important book under review, the great sorrow that had been conferred upon Prince von Bulow during the long and painful years after his retirement was "the possession of insight without power." How should he have felt when his great life-work was carelessly demolished by his wretched successor "who, in the ultimatum to Serbia and his clumsy diplomatic treatment of it, was to make the most dreadful mistake in all the history of Prussia and Germany, and one of the worst in the history of the world!" Even during the War Prince von Bulow had repeatedly sought all honourable means to return to the Imperial. Chancellory and right in good measure the wrong that had already been done to the Dynasty and the Fatherland: but the wilful Kaiser would have none of it and Herr Bethmann passionately clung to his post. The reverses during 1918, the Revolution, the unhappy flight of the Kaiser, the shameful surrender of the Navy, the Armistice and the tragic Treaty of Versailles: with a heavy heart the Prince bore one disaster after another in his seclusion and inly wept for the Fatherland. There was no fundamental change in his convictions or his heartfelt emotions; only "the anxiety for the Kaiser and for the Dynasty that had prevailed until then, are replaced by the even greater anxiety over the fate of the German people, over the future for the nation."

It was in the year 1920 that Prince von Bulow conceived the idea of writing his Memoirs. And between 1921 and 1926 he dictated the entire manuscript, which now extends to four fat volumes. The first volume in its original German version was published by the firm of Ullstein in September 1930 and has now been issued in an English version by Messrs. Putnam's Sons. The second volume will cover the period from the Moroccan Crisis in 1903 to the resignation of the Chancellorship in 1909. The third volume will embrace a whole decade from 1909, thus including the period of the Great War and surveying the causes of the collapse of the Empire. The fourth and the last volume is to fake us to a much earlier period and give us the Prince's reminiscences of his boyhood and youth and of his diplomatic career up to 1897, when he was appointed Secretary of State. It would be banal to expatiate upon the unique importance of Prince von Bulow's Memoirs. As so necessary and indispensable an adjunct to the history of Europe, especially of that period which commenced with the Franco- Prussian War and terminated with the Treaty of Versailles, these Memoirs will always occupy an eminent position in any historical library. Right up to the end of his life (the Prince died on the 28th October 1929), the ex-Chancellor retained a wonderful memory which he has turned to splendid account in his Memoirs. His birth, his vocation, his connections, and his natural affability had brought him in his time into intimate contact with Emperors Empresses, Prime Ministers and Field-Marshals, rich bankers and venerable Popes, and indeed with almost all the leading personages of his time. The pink of courtesy, as full of urbanity geniality as of prodigious depth and tact, ever cool and master of his temper, Prince von Bulow never failed to impress, if not to fascinate, anybody with whom he came into contact. The innumerable indiscretions of his Imperial master, in word or deed, or of his friends or subordinates, found in the eloquent and ever resourceful Bulow an efficacious solvent that would easily get blundering people out of any mess. The Kaiser's injudicious speeches ever got on the nerves of all thinking people. But Bulow's tact and eloquence could be relied on to smooth things up in the Reichstag. In the twelve thousand mark affair, the penitent Secretary of State, Count Posadowsky-wehner, found in his chief an unexpected tower of strength–unexpected because the Count had been from the outset opposed to the appointment of Bulow as the Imperial Chancellor. And above all, as Lucanus said, the Prince had a personality. By reason of all these circumstances, and by reason also of the Prince's wide scholarship and command over the vast resources of language, the wise statesman's Memoirs should be of exceptional interest. When thoughtful and well-informed critics place these Memoirs on a level with Saint Simon's Memoirs or with Bismarck's Reflections and Recollections, one can readily appreciate the comparison. I have no doubt but that when the remaining three volumes are published, Prince von Bulow's Memoirs, in its composite value, would far eclipse in historical importance and as a chip of authentic literature any other book of memoirs published in the present century in Europe or America.

As one handles this volume, which is sheer pleasure, and turns back the leaves, all the time quietly assimilating the rich information brought together, one is for hours impervious to the pangs of hunger or to bodily fatigue. It is somewhat like listening to the orator in Prince von Bulow. History unrolls before our vision: portraits of celebrated or notorious figures, whether in miniature or full-size, strut before us: gay anecdotes, solemn conversations, stately banquets, diplomatic intrigues, the puzzling contradictions of the political discussions, the ebullitions of the Kaiser, the vivacious letters of Monts and Eulenburg–we are dazzled by this multiple fare that is lucidly laid before us. In all this heavy volume, is there one dull paragraph? Does one single sentence, despite the innumerable digressions and asides and peeps forward and back, seem really out of place? I should not hesitate to answer these questions in the negative. Quotations from the Classics, from German, French, Italian or English authors, popular odds and ends from half a dozen languages, appropriate similies culled from the history of all nations and of all times, even apt images from Classical or Heathen mythology, these give a perennial freshness, a superior charm and fascination to the work. One feels that one is before not merely an eminent German statesman who had been Imperial Chancellor in his day, but that one is in intimate intercourse with a reverent student of the humanities, a scholar, almost a philosopher. His is not of course a colourless story. He has had rather very strong likes and equally strong dislikes. He showers praise with as much fervour and intensity as he would annihilate an opponent with odium. But in meting out praise or blame he is scrupulously conscientious. He speaks from the heart. We have been told by the German Editor of the Memoirs that the Prince's grave concern had been to "secure in his Memoirs the utmost precision and absolute truth." And when the agreement about its publication was entered into with Ullstein, the condition of posthumous issue of the book was insisted upon by the Prince so that "the world should believe in the sincerity and fidelity of what he had written." Controversy on many of the Prince's mature judgments is, as a matter of course, inevitable; but this much may be said, that, in laying bare the facts of a case, the author of the Memoirs cannot be accused of either slipshod carelessness or wanton perversion.

Many an important actor of the world drama does often intersect the calm and sober flow of the Memoirs. But the personality of the Kaiser is always before us, at every turn surprising and confounding our most sanguine expectations. It would be no exaggeration to say that the Kaiser pervades the atmosphere of the whole book and imparts it its very life. Bulow's general attitude towards the Kaiser in the Memoirs has been ably summarised by Herr von Stockhammern: "Bulow's verdict on the Kaiser is never bitter or unfair. Even when he censures or blames his sovereign, he remains just to the Kaiser's significant personality and his fine human characteristics." However, to the present reviewer Bulow seems to be too harsh on the Kaiser in two particulars. Bulow throws the entire blame for "dropping of the pilot" on the Kaiser: thus, on p. 129, "In his youthful folly he had, with juvenile concilium, chased Prince Bismarck away, to use his own bitter expression like a dishonest servant." To Bulow it would appear that the quarrels over the re-insurance treaty with Russia, over the resuscitation of the All-Highest Cabinet Order, over the labour problem, these were mere pretexts for the dismissal of Bismarck, which, the Kaiser had thought, was the sine qua non of his successful reign. But having read the well-documented essay on the subject, Kaiser and Chancellor by Karl Friederich Nowak (Putnams), one must rather conclude that it was the Chancellor that made it impossible for the Kaiser to get on any further with him. In the second place, Prince von Bulow thinks that during the unspeakably sad days of November 1918 "an honourable death on the battlefield . . . was, in the interests of the country, of the dynasty, and of the Kaiser himself, a hundred and a thousand times preferable to flight." This, too, is the opinion of Herr Emil Ludwig, whose biography of the Kaiser cannot easily be surpassed for its naive distortion of facts, its rhetorical exaggerations, and the biographer's elemental antipathy towards his subject. The fallacy of this unjust accusation has been well exposed by General von Hindenburg, now the President of the Reich, who said as early as 1920 that His Majesty did not desert the colours, that there was no question of the Supreme War Lord fighting at the head of his troops and as the First Soldier of the Nation, because the Army, the Navy and his people had revolted already against their Master, and that if he went to Holland on the eve of the Armistice, it was solely with a view to save his country from the further tragedy of a Civil War Whatever Emil Ludwig may say about the Kaiser's personal courage it is nevertheless a fact which is accepted by Prince von Bulow himself. With the exception of these I find myself in complete agreement–that is to say, the picture of the Kaiser otherwise is thoroughly satisfying and human–with what the Prince has to say. When Chlodwig-Hohenlohe asked Herr von Bulow as to what he thought of the Kaiser's mental condition, covertly hinting at insanity, the answer came: "William II is perfectly sane. . . . Our Kaiser is physically quite normal, absolutely healthy, and morally a pattern of purity. But he is neurasthenic and so is always oscillating between excessive optimism and equally excessive pessimism. . . . In William II hybris is shown in his passion for boastful talking, which not only makes him unpopular but is politically dangerous." In another place the discussion centres round the question whether the Kaiser had a ‘heart.’ Bulow, Bethmann and Moltke were a trois at dinner. "At that dinner my home, during which Moltke had argued that the Kaiser had no heart at all, and I had urged that he had a good and a noble heart, Bethmann Hollweg took refuge, as was his wont in such cases, in an embarrassed silence." Poor Bethmann is politely hit on his head whenever he makes his timorous appearance in these pages. As for Moltke, it is enough to say that he was responsible for the disaster of the first battle of the Marne. During the early days of the Great War when Moltke was Chief of the General Staff and conducted the war on two fronts, he but mechanically followed the War plan of the brilliant Schlieffen. At that time General Erich von Falkenhayn wrote in his Diary: "The German General Staff cannot come to a new decision. . . Schlieffen's notes do not help any further, and so Moltke's wits come to an end." At any rate, Moltke need not have accused the Kaiser of having had no heart. So excellent a judge as Captain Liddell Hart says in his Reputations (Murray): "William II undoubtedly thought more of birth than of ability in making his selections." This is particularly untrue: his appointment of Moltke was a blunder undoubtedly, but reason was not that he "thought more of birth than of ability." Moreover, with the experience of his long association with the Kaiser, says Prince von Bulow: "The Kaiser himself harboured no prejudices of this kind. His treatment of middle-class, and aristocratic officers was exactly the same . . . I repeat: William II was really never a philistine."

The Kaiser was not very happy in his foreign friendships. The Prince of Monaco, ex-President Theodore Roosevelt, Generals Bonnal and Lacrois, Lord Lonsdale and many others whom the Kaiser trusted with a childish faith, were the first to turn against him and grossly misrepresent him and discredit him in the eyes of the world, with the explosion of 1914. Roosevelt especially surpassed them all when he offered "a high price to whoever would bring the ‘Emperor William’ alive so that he could ‘have him tied up to a post.’" And then there was Professor von Harnack. He was a violent monarchist till 1918. To him the Kaiser was ‘Father of our Country.’ But the revolution came and the Professor became an equally violent Republican. Instances such as the despicable von Harnack compelled Prince von Bulow to write: "Kaiser William II made many mistakes, he erred all too often. But if he himself sinned much, it must never be forgotten that boot-lickers, flatterers and incense-bearing crawlers, sinned equally against him." Of all the anecdotes treasured up in this book, one about the Kaiser seems to be very funny and I cannot resist the temptation to give it here in full. In 1915, the Kaiser had granted an audience to a German-speaking Roman prelate. When the Kaiser accused the Italian king of having unjustly declared war on Austria, the Monsignore pointed out that the Salandra-Sonnino Government had insisted on war and hence Victor Emmanuel had had no choice in the matter. The Kaiser immediately flared up. That was a completely erroneous conception of kingship. At the Day of Judgment, God was sure to say to the Italian King: "No, no, my little man, that won't wash with me! Who made you a King, eh? Your ministers? Your parliament? No, I placed you in the exalted position, and you are responsible to me alone. Go to Hell or at least to Purgatory!" No wonder "the Roman prelate was distinctly startled at His Majesty's somewhat anthropomorphic outlook."

Not the least important of the portions of the Memoirs are those which analyse the characteristics of Emperors Francis Joseph and Charles and their advisers and ministers. Specially penetrating and acute are the contrasts Prince von Bulow evolves between Francis Joseph and Wilhelm II on the one hand, and Archduke Francis Ferdinand and his uncle, the Emperor, on the other. These should be of great use to all students of history. But in one respect the Prince seems to be too partisan in his attitude. I refer to his dismissal of Emperor Charles with the severe indictment: "Emperor Charles and his intriguing wife Empress Zita contrived the treachery to the German ally who, on behalf of and through the instrumentality of the Hapsburg monarch, had allowed itself to become involved in the most terrible of all wars." The present reviewer has not, he feels bound to confess, made any exhaustive study of the subject, but having read and re-read Count Polzer-Hoditz's Emperor Karl (Putnams), he thinks that the above view of the Prince's is, to say the least, very uncharitable and decidedly partisan. The treachery alluded to above was the mediation of Prince Sixtus, a near relative of Empress Zita's, in bringing about peace between the warring nations: in the conversations that followed, Emperor Karl undertook to put pressure on his ally to return Alsace and Lorraine to the French but in the end these peace negotiations were sabotaged by the Austrian Foreign Minister, Count Czernin. The latter also was responsible for the leaking out of the details of Karl's so-called treachery and of Clemenceau's sensational disclosures, which induced the Kaiser to demand an explanation of Emperor Karl. The unfortunate Emperor had no other go but to telegraph back the pompous declaration: "My guns will give the answer." And Whilhelm and Karl were once more allies, as intimate as ever.

I shall now briefly touch upon Bulow's relations with Admiral von Tirpitz and bring this rather longish review to a close. Wilhelm II, Tirpitz and Bulow were the creators of the great German High Seas Fleet. Throughout his stay in office Bulow gave all assistance the Admiral. Bulow it was who put through the controversial Navy Bill in the Reichstag, in spite of strenuous opposition from many quarters. Prince von Bulow never hesitated to affirm in private and in public that in order to protect "the wealth amounting to thousands of millions which we had, little by little, entrusted to the high seas, our merchant fleet, our commerce, our rapidly increasing industry," a strong navy was a patent necessity to Germany. However he stuck to the same view that the building of the navy should be so quietly accomplished as not to excite England's envy, not to say positive antagonism. It was a thousand pities that at the outbreak of hostilities the Kaiser and his precious Bethmann would not agree to the vigorous policy of Admiral von Tirpitz. Many a naval expert is of opinion today that "in August 1914, had Germany sent out her whole fleet in a great offensive, the war might have gone very differently," and that "not only would Germany not have found herself in the position that she is in today, but also that the verdict on Tirpitz would be different." I do not know better to conclude my ineffectual review of this grand edifice of Prince von Bulow's patriotism than by quoting the following impassioned lines from the book about the tragic fate of Tirpitz, through which runs an undertone of suppressed agony and high-souled righteous indignation against the blunderers of 1914: "The fate of Admiral von Tirpitz is a tragedy, tragic as his book on the war is tragic; above all, as is the fate of the German people, the fate of our Fatherland, which is and abides one of the greatest tragedies in the history of the world. But in spite of the final destruction of the fleet with all the horror of the circumstances that accompanied it, the German people will never, never forget its heroic earlier deeds, the Battle of Jutland, and the Battle of the Falkland Islands, Count Spee and his two sons, Otto Weddingen and all those who cruised and fought on the submarines. They will live in the hearts of the German people as do the heroes of the German sagas, as do Siegfried and Roland, as do the heroes of our earlier history, as do Totila and Teya and Arminius the Cheruscan. And so, too, will Tirpitz live in German history." One earnestly prays that Prince von Bulow's prophecy may be fulfilled in ample and glorious measure.