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John Charmley is, of course, no stranger to controversy....
How tempting it would be to begin a review of his latest book in
this vein. Indeed, one suspects that Professor Charmley must be
only too aware that his own reputation as a trenchant Conservative
(with a very capital C) controversialist all too often overshadows
the substance of his arguments. Unsurprisingly, then, most reviewers
have focused on the final third of Splendid Isolation?, in
which Charmley deals with the fateful decision of the Asquith Cabinet
to join the ensuing war on the continent in August 1914. Certainly
to this reviewer's mind, this is the most problematical aspect of
the book. Nevertheless, this foreshortening of the perspective is
somewhat unfortunate, for Splendid Isolation? is a book of
some considerable scholarly erudition and merit, and has more to
offer than a revisionist take on '1914'.
Having said that, this is not an easy book to
review. First of all, its title is slightly misleading. This is
not primarily a history of British foreign policy from Disraeli's
second administration to the outbreak of the Great War. Charmley's
chief interest is rather in what he calls a Conservative, or 'Country
Party', foreign policy tradition. Secondly, especially in the first
part of the book, he deals less with the actual course of British
diplomacy than with the politics of British foreign policy, that
is the influence of diverse groups and individuals within the Cabinet
on policy-making. It is here, in its 'high politics' approach, that
the book's real strength lies. Broadly speaking, the book falls
into three parts, the first of which deals with the problems of
British foreign policy under the auspices of the awkward Disraeli-Derby
tandem. This is followed by a survey of Lord Salisbury's long and
unruffled ascendancy over Britain's foreign relations, and its sequel
under Lord Lansdowne. As almost a kind of anti-dote, the final part
of the book is devoted to what Charmley sees as Edward Grey's gratuitous
over-committing of this country to France and Russia, and his subsequent
blundering into war.
At first glance, Splendid Isolation? may
strike the reader as curiously old-fashioned. In parts, it is almost
Macaulay-esque in its partisanship (- though, of course, Professor
Charmley sends his shock troops into battle under the banner of
a quite different political colour). John Charmley has his heroes
and villains, and he presents his tale with great verve and punch.
And yet, it is not quite as old-fashioned as it might appear. The
history of Britain's foreign relations in Splendid Isolation?
is not of the 'what-one-clerk-said-to-another' variety, and this
is not just because clerks do not feature very prominently in this
book - in sharp contrast to the Tapers and Tadpoles of the Tory
party. In its first part, John Charmley offers a shrewd analysis
of the developing dynamics within the Disraeli Cabinet, especially
the Earl of Derby's attempts to rein in Disraeli's forays into foreign
policy, though he perhaps underestimates the importance of the 'secret
committee' formed by Disraeli, Salisbury and Cairns, the Lord Chancellor,
in late 1877 to by-pass Derby. Sadly, however, we shall probably
have to bid farewell to the myth of Lady Derby's romantic attachment
to Russia's ambassador Count Pyotr Shuvalov as the main source through
which St. Petersburg learnt about policy debates in Downing Street.
Sir Stafford Northcote, whose historical reputation never really
recovered from his mauling by Randolph Churchill and other Tory
back-benchers in the 1880's, emerges as the crucial ball-bearing
that kept together the disparate groups in the Cabinet; and Lord
Salisbury appears a little bit more scheming and ambitious than
his biographers have been prepared to concede. Moreover, by emphasizing
the importance of foreign policy traditions, Charmley has identified
an important, though perhaps somewhat unduly neglected aspect of
international history. To some extent, indeed, he seeks to do for
'authentic' conservatism what A.J.P. Taylor did for the dissenting
tradition in his Trouble Makers. Following in the footsteps
of John Vincent, Charmley particularly seeks to vindicate Derby's
policy. He argues convincingly that Derby's passive attitude during
the Great Eastern Crisis of 1875-8 was not so much a reflection
of his flabby and phlegmatic personality, as has often been argued
(- and which he undoubtedly had); but that he was shaped by the
core beliefs of the insular 'Country Party' tradition in which he
was so firmly rooted. According to Charmley this tradition 'had
been ill-disposed towards too great an intervention in European
affairs and had tried to avoid expensive commitments abroad' (p.23).
This was not merely a question of values but also of self-interest,
as Charmley rightly points out, for the expenses of war would have
to be borne by the squires and the large landowners (of whom, it
ought to be noted, the Lancashire magnate Derby was one, and by
no means the least significant) (p.114). All of this makes good
sense, and it opens up avenues for further research. Yet, it is
unfortunate that Charmley confines himself to a few en passant remarks
on this subject. This is perhaps a slightly unfair criticism because
it is essentially a request for more, in what is already a weighty
tome of some 400-odd pages of text and another 100 pages of footnotes.
Nevertheless, the roots and principal tenets of this Conservative
tradition are not as clearly worked out as one would have wished.
Reference is made to the Tories' seventeenth century 'Country Party'
roots, though the real influences are probably to be found in Canning
or Aberdeen (p.23). Indeed, one is left wondering whether this 'tradition'
was not perhaps more a reaction against the huge financial burden
imposed on the country by the Great War against revolutionary and
Napoleonic France. Also, given the interaction between economic
self-interests of the land-owning aristocracy and its foreign policy
preferences one would have wished for Professor Charmley to pursue
this topic a little further.
If Derby is the unlikely hero, then Disraeli is
clearly the villain of the piece. Although he pays respect to Disraeli's
political courage, the latter emerges as the sort of exotic adventurer
his contemporary critics held him to be. For Charmley, Disraeli
was a Palmerstonian without Pam's moral concerns. Indeed, he contends
that the combination of Disraeli's populist instincts, geopolitical
awareness, and his cynical irresponsibility drove the country to
the brink of war with Russia. It may have become unfashionable to
defend Disraeli, but one wonders whether his many detractors on
the Conservative right have not perhaps been taken in by his theatrical
bombast and seemingly blasé cynicism. If he played to the
gallery at home, he did so because he had understood better than
Derby that public opinion could no longer be ignored in the conduct
of foreign affairs. As his successor as Conservative leader, Lord
Salisbury, noted many years later, success in foreign policy depended
on 'the swing of the pendulum at home.'1
It was perhaps the most important lesson he learnt from Disraeli.
Moreover, the risks Disraeli was prepared to take were calculated
ones. Russia, still not recovered from the Crimean War over twenty
years previously, was in no state to wage war; her alliance with
the two other Eastern monarchies, Germany and Austria-Hungary, was
built on flimsy foundations; and the fact that Disraeli kept open
the diplomatic channels to the other great powers ensured that the
British government could exert pressure by playing on the differences
between the other powers, without having to resort to military force.
It was a conjuring trick, but it was effective. John Charmley rightly
points out that, in terms of Britain's international standing, the
achievements of the Disraeli-Salisbury duo at the Berlin Congress
in July 1878 did not last long. But then it is, perhaps, illusory
to assume that any kind of permanence can be achieved in international
politics. Indeed, thoughtful, intelligent and convincing as his
analysis of the high politics dimension of foreign policy is, Charmley's
book is hampered by what strike me as two blindspots. First, the
exclusive focus on political actors comes at the price of neglecting
the role played by the Foreign Office and Britain's diplomats abroad.
This is not to advocate old-fashioned 'what-one-clerk-said-to-another'-ism.
But leaving the clerks out altogether means that the reader does
not get a sense of Derby or any of his successors as operators within
the Whitehall machinery. It also means that the reader remains unaware
of the extent to which, for example, Disraeli relied on Lord Tenterden,
the permanent under-secretary of the FO, for advice, or later Salisbury
let himself be guided by the ambassador at Constantinople, Sir William
White, during the Bulgarian crisis of 1885 (when Salisbury performed
what appeared to be a volte face). A notable exception, though,
is John Charmley's accurate emphasis on the influence Sir Thomas
Sanderson exercised as PUS between 1894 and 1906. Secondly, by relying
on thumbnail sketches of foreign leaders such as Bismarck, Andrássy
or Gorchakov, deftly executed and peppered with witty aperçus
though they are, John Charmley does not convey fully the dynamics
of international diplomacy, the background influences shaping the
policies of the other great powers, and Britain's interactions with
them. Now, Splendid Isolation? is, of course, a book about
British foreign policy. But Charmley's approach has the unfortunate
consequence of making international politics appear as some sort
of unwelcome intrusion of foreign problems into the orderly course
of British affairs. Thus, for example, Bismarck's approach to Britain
in 1879 remains mysterious because Austria's desire for close cooperation
with Britain in addition to the contemplated dual alliance with
Germany is not explained properly.2
After the long and detailed examination of the
Disraeli period, the Gladstone-Granville stewardship of Britain's
external relations between 1880 and 1885 is dealt with in one-and-a-half
chapters (- the Rosebery-Kimberley interlude of 1892-5 fares even
worse, crammed into two brief paragraphs). This underlines Charmley's
overall concern with the Conservative tradition in foreign policy,
but it does less than justice to the Liberals' two spells in government.
Charmley is undoubtedly right to be critical of Gladstone's idealistic
notions about a renewed Concert of Europe and of his 'invertebrate
dithering' during the Egyptian crisis in 1882 (p.185). But at no
stage does his analysis here reach the level of sophistication and
insight displayed in the earlier part of the book. By contrast,
he is on much firmer ground with Lord Salisbury who virtually dominated
British foreign policy from 1885 to 1902. Charmley very neatly and
persuasively outlines Salisbury's approach to foreign policy. His
Salisbury is very much a recognizable historical figure, flexible,
patient and eschewing as much as possible European entanglements
and commitments; someone who had more in common with Derby than
is often thought, but who adapted Conservative foreign policy to
the changed international circumstances, not least because he accepted
the burdens of Empire. Charmley very rightly stresses the fact that
the term 'isolationism' does not satisfactorily capture the nuances
and the subtlety of Salisbury's diplomacy. It would be difficult
to fault John Charmley's scholarship and his grasp of the Salisbury
period, though occasionally it seems that he overestimates the strength
of Salisbury's position in international diplomacy. The crucial
difference between him and Derby was that Salisbury accepted that
British interests could only be secured on the marketplace of European
politics, and that meant treating with the continental powers. True,
Bismarck met his diplomatic match in Salisbury, as Charmley demonstrates
very well in the context of events in 1886-7 (p.219). But this should
not be construed into an assumption of Salisbury's strength. Salisbury
needed Bismarck, and indeed was forced into making barely palatable
concessions in Zanzibar in return. Similarly, Charmley's account
of the genesis of the Mediterranean agreements with Italy and Austria-Hungary
in 1887 is very thorough and persuasive. But he never comes to grips
with the background to the agreements, the ongoing 'duel' for control
over each other between Bismarck and Salisbury, two players whose
respective international position was weakening. It is, therefore,
regrettable that Charmley does not properly explore Bismarck's 1889
alliance offer or the Anglo-German colonial agreement respecting
Zanzibar of the following year. On the whole, Charmley seems less
sure-footed when dealing with the Unionist Cabinet of 1895-1902.
It is rather doubtful that Chamberlain was Salisbury's main antagonist
already at the formation of the new government in 1895 when most
contemporary sources still indicate the reverse.3
Whereas Charmley displays considerable forensic skill in disentangling
the skeins that constituted the politics of foreign policy in the
late 1870's, he does not really fully grasp the extent to which
Lord Salisbury's last Cabinet grew increasingly impatient with his
conduct of foreign policy, and the extent to which Chamberlain was
later able to manipulate this growing sense of frustration. A case
in point is Charmley's reconstruction of the Cabinet discussions
at the height of the Far Eastern crisis in February and March 1898,
which he rightly identifies as crucial. His contention that Salisbury
was opposed to Britain following the Russia and Germany by acquiring
territory in China; that Chamberlain was in favour; and that Curzon,
Salisbury's parliamentary under-secretary, opposed the premier,
is not borne out by the extant archival evidence. Ironically the
reverse was the case: Chamberlain opposed the lease of the Wei-hai-Wei
naval base, whereas Salisbury and Curzon favoured it.4
But this is very much a momentary lapse. Charmley
very briskly and accurately summarizes Chamberlain's role in the
abortive Anglo-German alliance talks in 1898 and again in 1901.
The other great merit of this book, in addition to his re-examination
of Derby's diplomacy, is his treatment of Landsdowne's unduly neglected
foreign-secretaryship. Charmley rightly stresses the continuity
between Salisbury and his successor at the FO (- though he does
perhaps underestimate the extent to which Lansdowne was 'his own
man'). Lansdowne's foreign policy was not about alliances per
se, but about reducing the burden of Britain's imperial commitments.
Ironically, as Charmley points out, the Anglo-Japanese alliance
of 1902 provided 'a Salisburian ... answer to the problem of how
best to safeguard British interests in the Far East', even though
Salisbury himself opposed this combination (p.295). Similarly, he
rightly stresses the nature of the entente with France as
limiting imperial over-stretch, as well as the link between this
agreement and a possible agreement with Russia which Lansdowne,
Balfour or Cromer had hoped for. His treatment of Lansdowne's deft
diplomacy during the first Moroccan crisis of 1905, giving only
vague assurances to France whilst ensuring that France and Germany
would not come to a deal at the expense of British interests, is
particularly convincing.
In the third and final part of Splendid Isolation?
Charmley turns to Sir Edward Grey's diplomacy which, he argues,
committed Britain ever more closely to France and Russia against
Germany as a power with 'Napoleonic' aspirations. The Grey who emerges
from these pages was inflexibly wedded to the idea of maintaining
in the long term what had originally been conceived of as a temporary
diplomatic instrument, the entente with France (p.339). In
Charmley's reading, Grey was also inflexible in his dealings with
Germany and plainly wrong-headed in his regarding the Austro-German
Dual Alliance as quasi-monolithic (p.354). He rashly committed this
country to intervening on the side of France in the event of a continental
war. Grey thus occupies a place in Charmley's rogues' gallery alongside
Disraeli and Winston Churchill (pp.400-1).5
All three burdened Britain with continental commitments in Europe,
and made her, in the words of a more recent Foreign Secretary, 'punch
above her weight'. In doing so, Charmley argues, they helped to
bring about the decline of this country in the twentieth century.
The decision for war in 1914 was, then, the most fatal one in a
series of political blunders from the late 1870s to 1939.
These are bold claims. They echo some of the arguments
advanced recently by Niall Ferguson, though thankfully in this thoroughly
researched and intelligently argued book the reader is spared the
inanities to which Ferguson treated his readers.6
Nevertheless there are a number of problems, partly conceptual and
partly interpretative. The underlying thesis of Charmley's book
queries the appropriateness of the 'continental commitment' as Britain's
true strategy (p.2). In so doing, Charmley takes on a whole phalanx
of historians, among them Michael Howard and Paul Kennedy, who argued
that the best means of protecting Britain's imperial interests was
to prevent any one power from dominating the continent of Europe.7
To some extent Charmley is, of course, quite right: the principal
concern with European diplomacy, and Anglo-German relations more
especially, has led to the neglect by historians of the geostrategic
periphery in great power politics. Given that Britain's imperial
interests lay in the periphery, this neglect is deplorable. However,
Charmley himself focuses almost entirely on Britain's European involvement,
without elucidating the interaction between developments in the
periphery and the (European) centre of international politics. Thus,
to my mind, Splendid Isolation? fails to make sufficiently
clear how and why successive Foreign Secretaries, including Salisbury
and Lansdowne, thought it imperative to safeguard Britain's imperial
interests through limited engagements with other great powers.
This leads me to his treatment of Grey. John Charmley
charges him with rashly tying Britain to France and, though to a
lesser extent, Russia. He praises Lansdowne for refusing to support
France in during the early stages of the Moroccan crisis in 1905,
and blames Grey for indulging in casuistry in his dealings with
the French during the final phase of the crisis (pp.322 and 336).
Essentially, though, both men were pursuing the same objective,
viz. to prevent the French from caving in to German pressure and
come to a separate agreement with Berlin, possibly at the expense
of Britain. Did Grey, then, pay more attention to the spirit of
the entente than its details, as Lansdowne did (p.332)? Perhaps,
so. More significantly, however, the international scene had changed
fundamentally. Russia's defeat in the Far East in 1905 had also,
at least temporarily, shifted the European balance of power in Germany's
favour. More was therefore required to encourage France to remain
firm, though the assurances given to Cambon were still too vague
for the Quai d'Orsay's liking. One would have liked to read more
about John Charmley's assessment of German diplomacy during the
crisis, including also the discussions about the possibility of
a preventive war against France. This touches upon a more fundamental
problem concerning Professor Charmley's reading of German policy
and strategy. He is right to point that 'the skies had not fallen
in and civilization had not ended' following France's defeat in
the war of 1870 in which Britain remained neutral (p.2). Perhaps
the skies would not have fallen in 1914 either, had Britain remained
aloof from the war on the continent. But the skies would have been
dark with thunder-clouds. The Kaiser's Germany of 1914 was not the
same any more as the altogether more moderately ambitious Prussia
of Bismarck in the late 1860's. Germany had a large navy which was
clearly poised against Britain; she had colonial aspirations; government-orchestrated
nationalism was rife in Germany; she was increasingly unpredictable,
and to no small degree the cause of the pre-1914 'l'inquiétude
de l'Europe'.8
On the whole, Charmley tends to underestimate the aggressive nature
of German policy in the years before 1914, which even the critics
of Fritz Fischer now concede.9
Splendid Isolation? is a thoroughly researched,
intelligently argued and very well written book, that is a pleasure
to read. In it John Charmley has offered a series of thought-provoking
and useful re-interpretations especially of the Derby and Lansdowne
periods; and it is to be hoped that this book will contribute to
a revival of interest in nineteenth century international history.
But his critique of the fateful decision for war in 1914 seems overdrawn,
and is ultimately focusing on the wrong question. It was not the
decision to intervene in the war that caused Britain's problems
in the later twentieth century, but the inept and wasteful military
leadership during the Great War. His scolding of Liberal statesmen
is good knock-about stuff, but ultimately detracts from the substance
of his argument. Too often one wonders whether John Charmley is
not too much influenced by current debates about the future direction
of this country vis-à-vis EU-rope, and about current woes
of contemporary conservatism.
May 2001
1.
E de Groot, 'Great Britain and Germany in Zanzibar: Consul Holmwood's
Papers, 1885-7', in Journal of Modern History, vol.xxv, no.2
(1953), pp.135-6.
2.
P. Kluke, 'Bismarck and Salisbury: Ein diplomatisches Duell', in
Historische Zeitschrift, vol.clxxv, no.2 (1953), pp.285-306.
3.
Cf. Lady F. Balfour, Ne Obliviscaris: Dinna Forget (2 vols.,
London: Hodder and Stoughton, s.a.), vol.ii, pp.270-1.
4.
T.G. Otte, 'Great Britain, Germany and the Far-Eastern Crisis of
1897-8' in English Historical Review, vol.cx, no.439 (1995),
pp. 1157-79.
5.
Cf. J. Charmley, Churchill: The End of Glory (London: Hodder
& Stoughton, 1993)
6.
N. Ferguson, The Pity of War (London: Allen Lane, 1999).
7.
M. Howard, The Continental Commitment (London: Penguin, 1974);
P.M. Kennedy, The Rise and Fall of British Naval Mastery
(London: Allen Lane, 1976).
8.
P. Renouvin, La Crise Eurpéenne et la Première
Guerre Mondiale (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1962),
p.183
9.
K. Hildebrand, Das verangene Reich: Deutsche Aussenpolitik von
Bismark bis Hitler (Stuttgart: DVA, 1995)
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