On first acquaintance to British eyes the First World War presents itself in starkly demarcated periods: naĂŻve and bombastic enthusiasm in August 1914; stubborn and traumatizing conflict in the middle years; a barren victory in 1918, marred further by a malignant peace. On closer analysis this, of course, proves an overly crude interpretation. Nonetheless, politically, the war can be divided conveniently into three periods: Asquithâs Liberal Government, August 1914 to May 1915; Asquithâs Coalition Government, June 1915 to December 1916; and Lloyd Georgeâs Coalition Government, January 1917 to November 1918. Each administration had its own individual characteristics and all shared common features. This chapter analyses key aspects of the politico-strategic dimension which united and divided these periods of government, including the military and political context within which wartime decisions were made, the clarification of a Conservative approach to war and the domestic political opportunities presented by war to particular political groupings. The traditional interpretation of the war has been that it was implicitly beneficial to the Conservative Party. As will be seen throughout this study, this is hardly a fair reflection of its actual impact. If on the simple issue of the fact of war itself this bold assertion is un-controversial, it can easily betray the level of nuance inherent in the Conservative approach to âtotal warâ.
The Decision for War: August 1914
In July 1914 the long, drawn-out diplomatic contest with which international ambassadors, governments and pressure groups had been occupying themselves for a decade drew to a close. The assassination of the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo led to a catalogue of ultimatums from Austro-Hungary and Germany to their neighbours, first Serbia, then Russia, France and Belgium. Across Europe, the metaphoric beacons of the intricate network of international alliances â which had been built up to in the understanding that they would never be lit â were ignited. Between 28 July and 4 August, from one country to the next, fires blazed upon the horizon giving notice of the calls upon diplomatic honour and national interests: Serbia to Russia; Russia to France and Britain; France to Britain; and Belgium to Britain. On 3 August, Germany invaded France; later that day the British Foreign Secretary Edward Grey served notice to Germany that, in the event of the violation of Belgian neutrality, Britain would declare war upon the aggressor. On 4 August, in response to the movement of German troops across the Belgian border, Britain declared war against Germany. The beacons had failed in their first purpose to prevent war; they were more effective in ensuring that all soon were to be involved in war.
Sufficient ink has been split by protagonists and historians alike over the rationale for war that blotting paper, rather than yet further ink, is called for. Through the smudge of self-aggrandizement and recrimination of contemporary accounts, a clear outline of why the British Cabinet decided to go to war in July and August 1914 has emerged.1 It was in truth a huge game of hedging, of waiting for the Central Powers to play their hands and of waiting for colleagues to decide their minds. Within this environment of quickly changing tides and strong undercurrents of pro-war and anti-war movements within the Cabinet, the Conservative Party navigated a determined line. That the Conservative leaders dispatched a letter to Prime Minister Herbert Asquith on Sunday 2 August has never been in doubt; neither is the fact that Asquith brought mention of this communication to the attention of the Cabinet when it met later that day. This letter argued that âit would be fatal to the honour and security of the United Kingdom to hesitate in supporting France and Russia at the present junctureâ and pledged the âunited supportâ of the Conservative Party in all measures required by the Government in Englandâs intervention in the war.2 Nevertheless, controversy has surrounded two particular aspects of this story: whether the Conservative communication influenced the Governmentâs decision for war and whether the Conservative leadership had to be cajoled into action by its backbenchers. On the first point, the overriding issue is surely that few Liberals can have been ignorant of the Conservativesâ likely stance on the continental commitment â the Agadir crisis in 1911 and the campaigns of the National Service League cannot have been forgotten overnight. If these had not laid the Conservative position bare, the First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill had already conveyed to Cabinet a message from the Conservative F.E. Smith stating that the opposition would definitely support intervention, especially in the event of the violation of Belgian neutrality.3 As it was, Keith Wilson is surely right to point to the fact that Asquith brandished the Conservative letter in front of Liberal âwaverersâ as a veiled threat that the appalling outcome of any irresolute response would be a Conservative coalition.4 Together, the prospect of a German Belgium and a Conservative administration gave Asquith the necessary leverage to carry his Cabinet in an interventionist policy.
Of more significance to this study is identifying the actual force behind the letter to Asquith. If the Conservative communication was more of a supporting buttress than a keystone on which British intervention was built, it is apparent that the traditional story of vacillation among the Tory leaders is without sound foundation. Retrospectively, the actions of the Conservative leaders certainly appear rickety. In their defence, many remained unaware of the severity of the European situation and were more concerned with an Irish, rather than Balkan, conflict. As late as Saturday 1 August 1914, Lord Crawford was returning from listening to Wagnerian opera in Germany. âThe Austro-Servian crisis [was] wrecking Bayreuth!â, he moaned with barbarous composure.5 Even those Conservatives who were aware of continental developments, however, were still scattered far and wide enjoying weekends in the country: Austen Chamberlain at Westgate-on-Sea; the party leader Andrew Bonar Law, Edward Carson and âF.E.â at Wargrave; Lord Lansdowne at Bowood House in Wiltshire; Arthur Balfour planning not only to retreat to Hatfield, but also until very late in the day contemplating an Austrian break.6 Subsequently, it has been argued that it was only through the force of a coterie of right-wing Conservatives, including General Henry Wilson, Leopold Maxse, George Lloyd, Admiral Lord Charles Beresford and Leo Amery, that the party leaders took any action at all.7 Such was Bonar Lawâs imperturbability that, âlike another Drakeâ, he insisted on finishing a tennis set before listening to an agitated Lloyd. Even then, Lloyd was forced to set Beresford, purple with rage and shouting, on his leader in order to persuade him to accompany them back to London.8
But was British participation in the First World War really due to this bunch of angry radical Tories? Did this represent a victory for the radical right? Rhodri Williams has written of âthe relative impotence of the hard men on the Conservative backbenchesâ in the pre-war political climate.9 Other research has borne this out, classifying the anti-German scaremongering of pre-war Conservatism as carried out by âoutcastsâ.10 It has subsequently been argued that the leadership was in âno way persuadedâ by this rank and file movement.11 Admittedly, Bonar Law had himself outlined the requirements for Conservative support for the Government to Grey and Asquith, but the mode of expression of this policy cast doubt on the commitment of the leadership. In late July and early August 1914, the radical right demonstrated itself to be a vital force in contrast to a sluggish leadership. Several factors vindicate the apparent reticence at the top: Chamberlain felt there was little the opposition could do to force the Government to act and also believed that forceful Conservative pressure would only rally an anti-war coalition; Lansdowne, the party leader in the House of Lords, feared splitting the Government and that âa change of Govt. would [have been] deplorable at such a momentâ.12 Other factors lay beneath. Foreign and diplomatic policy was perceived as the province of the sitting government and confidential information was treated as such. Pre-war controversies suggest that the Conservative leaders would not have played quite such a straight bat had the issue been Irish Home Rule or House of Lords reform rather than a European war. What these excuses constituted at a broader level was traditional propriety, or the âpolitical correctnessâ of the late ninete...