Revanche: The Second Franco-German War, Part II
REVANCHE: THE SECOND FRANCO-GERMAN WAR, PART II:
“Twice the pride, double the fall”
~Count Dooku, Revenge of the Sith
“Twice the pride, double the fall”
~Count Dooku, Revenge of the Sith
These questions would beset Germany in the turbulent years after the crisis. And yet, inevitable though conflict appeared, and was - remarkably little effort was seemingly directed towards truly resolving them. Chancellor Bismarck, fully aware of German (and his own personal) overextension, had pursued a policy of de-escalation and concession to the Reich’s perennial Western rival following the crisis. Placating them he hoped would buy time for a German renewal in strength, and avoid the immediate and perhaps disastrous prospect of war. Nonetheless these concessions, though slight in their scale, sought only to unwittingly unveil to the world the Reich’s weakness in face of French belligerence - humiliating Germany’s international position and yet further emboldening her enemies.
“A European war cannot be avoided”
~ Alfred Von Waldersee, 1887
In response, Bismarck had that year requested an enormous Armed Forces Bill to the diet, in hope of fully reasserting Prussian military might. The “Iron Chancellor” however proved to be unable to fully persuade or coerce his colleagues to this end - much to Germany’s long term detriment. The prescient foresight of coming conflict by some, it seems had yet to fully realise itself in the Reichstag, and the bill was summarily defeated on the floor [3]. A telling premonition not just of the disaster that awaited Germany, but also of the rapidly waning authority of the venerated Chancellor.
Bismarck had introduced the bill under the context of securing the peace. But alas despite German bluster, it was clear that its need had derived not from Germany's strength, but rather it’s geopolitical weakness - and moreover the bills rejection had owed exclusively to its military overconfidence. Just as Germany’s martial prowess had withered in the years since the formation of the empire, so too had its diplomatic stranglehold over the continent. France of course remained the foci of opposition to German hegemony, however tensions were once again rising in the East. The possibility of a two front war had re-emerged as something more than just rhetoric during the late 1880s - Russian friendliness was rapidly slipping out of Bismarck's grasp and equally just as France had dramatically reawakened from her isolation. Combined with the growing strength of nationalist agitators both at home and abroad, and a perfect storm was brewing that threatened to topple the careful balance which Bismarck had worked so very hard to achieve. Historians often remark that whilst Boulanger’s tactical manoeuvres cannot be discounted, it is truly remarkable at the sheer luck of the generals' timing. All of these geopolitical trends long preceded Boulanger, but nevertheless it would be the triumphant Marshal who would overwhelmingly reap their rewards.
By 1889, Bismarck's machinations had at last run ahead of him, as his attempts to juggle the Russian alliance with an anti-Russian Central European bloc finally began to falter. Russia’s reluctance to acquiesce to Bismarck’s secretive Reinsurance Treaty was already plainly clear at its adoption [4], but come the arrival of the French Marshal, many in the Tsarist court now stood in open objection. Whilst Tsar Alexander III himself did not at first grant the March on the Elysée a warm welcome, and initially made a determined effort to rebuff the French General's letters to him - as the opinions of the majority of his ministers shifted, much like the press - so eventually did his own inclinations [5]. Nevertheless this is not to downplay the initial hostility of both the Tsar and the press to Boulanger - especially so in the Russian capital, where the general aversion to any shaking up of the status quo remained a potent motivator. For example, many of St Petersburg’s press outfits, at first news of the coup, somewhat prematurely declared Boulanger as yet another French radical, and repeatedly raised vague notions of a new Napoleonic menace. Their country’s great suffering at the hands of foreign invaders still loomed large - especially so at the hands of that notorious French Emperor and his wake of insipid spawn, of whom Boulanger was so often categorised.
However, much like Alexander’s court, there lay significant divisions in the Russian reaction as a whole. In great contrast to the more placid newspapers of the Tsarist capital, the response in Moscow (the political centre of Russia's Conservatives and Slavophiles) instead stood rabidly in favour of the new French regime from the outset. In line with Russia’s great affinity for autocrats, they instead cast Boulanger as a strong leader who would restore glory and prowess to France and her peoples. One newspaper talked longingly of Russia's love affair for "brave military men", likening Boulanger to the martial heroes of Russian history. He was a "restorer of Kings, a protector of tradition, and a man wholly opposed to the cult of individualism", one even proclaiming him the "one bright point of light in the dark shadows of the West".
Though unanimous in their support, it would take a Muscovite transplanted to St Petersburg, to ultimately sway the opinions of that most Western of cities - and more importantly, the opinions of the Tsar himself. Aleksey Suvorin, perhaps the greatest press magnate in Russia, and perhaps even the world [6], threw the full weight of his papers behind Boulanger and the Germanophobes of Moscow. His Novoye Vremya (New Times), laid out the many insults that had been paid to Russia by Germany - the freezing of bonds, the old Bulgarian Crisis, Austro-German suppression of Slavic peoples, the diplomatic snubbing of the Tsar by Bismarck that year, and the blatant formation of an "anti-Russian cabal" in the Balkans. Daily his press empire would issue its charges - prosecuting not just Germany, but anyone who would favour it.
By late February 1889, even most Piter newspapers had shifted tack, and the groundswell in support for Boulanger and wider Germanophobia would soon become fully rooted - even in the capital. Fearing the press in its hysteria would soon turn on his own position, Tsar Alexander at last realised that the situation was no longer tenable, and that changes would have to be reluctantly made to his court to placate them. Nikolay Girs would be the most prominent of these dismissals, and undoubtedly the most effectual. The rabidly Germanophile Foreign Minister, and close confidante of Bismarck, had become a repeated ‘whipping boy’ on the front pages of Suvorin’s papers. Having had a less than friendly relationship with the press in the past, it is perhaps no wonder he was so targeted by them - however the sheer viciousness of their criticisms certainly took him aback. Day after day they accused him of being Bismarck’s puppet, a disloyal foreigner and even a closet Jew. Having outmanoeuvred the press so many times before, his abortive pleas to the Tsar to retain his post would be his final battle.
Alexey Borisovich Lobanov-Rostovsky was soon chosen as his successor - a man who, while no Slavophile, was certainly no friend of Germany. Soon after his appointment, Tsar Alexander even began to respond to Boulanger's letters (albeit with some motivation from his ministers), recognising the fruitful possibilities of a Franco-Russian detente - much to the delight of French Foreign Minister, Count Dillon. Although the Tsar had long been considered a Slavophile, wholly opposed to the German hegemony, after this point it seems a decisive change had taken place. Finally, Alexander’s government had been brought fully in line with his personal views - encompassed by ministers determined to avoid reverence to the status quo, and at last clearing out the diplomatic legacies of his father.
This pivotal shift in Russian policy after Alexander’s wave of “February Dismissals”, was first publicly put to the test in their response to the outbreak of the war. At the onset of the Skirmish at Conflans, the Russian diplomatic office issued a statement warning against German aggression towards France. However, whilst such statements had always been issued in the wake of the many Franco-German spats of the past, this statement instead seemed bolder, far more sinister in its tone [7] - albeit refraining from objectively declaring moral support to any side. To the world it could be plainly seen that the days of open Russo-German friendliness were over, and that, to the horror of Bismarck, and respective delight of Boulanger, the Russian bear was at last beginning to awaken from its long slumber.
Just two days after the French declaration of war however, this pervading sense of German dismay at both the conflict, and the reaction of its looming Eastern neighbour, would metamorphosize into one of outright horror. On the 26th that month, the press-baron Suvorin would go one step further, not content with having transformed simply his own nation's government. A full page spread on all of his newspapers both at home and abroad was unleashed - leaking the full text of the Reinsurance Treaty to the world. Although the exact route these documents took, to this day cannot be ascertained [8], (and Suvorin consistently denied to his deathbed the specifics of how he gained them), the details would nonetheless rip through the European press commentariat like wildfire.
The fervor from the treaty’s details was palpable, even in the fever surrounding the ongoing war. In Germany, Bismarck had always been accused of a "culpable friendliness" with Russia and despite all facts to the contrary, the press represented the Chancellor's government as having bent over backwards for Russia, only to receive insolence in return [9]. Old cartoons about Russian bonds dragging down German investors were revived, articles about the expulsion of German landowners from Russian Poland were recycled and the press promulgated scares about Russia even as they rattled on about the menace of Boulanger and the destiny of the Reich to crush France once and for all.
However a far greater international effect from the leaking of the treaty would be seen in Germany’s relations with her previously steadfast allies. Austria-Hungary in particular was utterly aghast at the treaty’s provisions, viewing Germany as perfidious, and reckless - having gone behind Austria’s back to do deals with their long time enemy. In return for Russian neutrality, Germany had effectively sold away Austria’s sphere in the Balkans to the Tsardom without permission - a move viewed as little else than a complete insult to the supposed Berlin-Vienna alliance.
In the wake of this, the fury of Emperor Franz Josef was indescribable, and within hours of discovering the treaty’s full terms, had ordered his ministers to begin wholly distancing Austria from Germany in reprisal. As such, though officially bound by the Triple Alliance to support Germany in its war - by the end of the week Austria had instead chosen to fully renege on its obligations and declare outright neutrality [10]. In a tactic later mimicked by Italy, Vienna declared the war to have been started due to German aggression (following the French line that the Conflans Incident had been provoked by German border troops) and therefore under the provisions of the alliance were therein not required to provide any active military support. The German government of course found itself infuriated at the insolence of its ally, but alas unable to do anything in return. War, and the turmoil ongoing at its own actions proved far too great a distraction for any efforts to be even considered to counter.
Such a diplomatic realignment for Austria is undoubtedly remarkable considering the backdrop of the past decade of Austro-German cooperation - even more so considering the rapidity with which it took place. However, historians often note that in Vienna’s eyes, neutrality was the preferable option in any case, irrespective of the diplomatic fissure. Austria had little to gain in sending its troops to die in war focused on Germany’s borders rather than its own. Much the same in the event of a German defeat, a weakened Reich might be more pliable to supporting Austrian interests - such was the empire's strategic importance to securing Germany’s vulnerable defensive frontiers. Therefore whilst the Emperor's fury at the scandalous press revelations was certainly important in the decision, numerous other factors of course also influenced his mind in those pivotal moments.
The reaction in the other, and often lesser regarded member of the Triple Alliance, Italy, similarly saw furious recriminations over the leaked treaty - albeit not quite matching Austria in its vitriol. Crispi's Italian government reeled at the "free hand" Germany had offered Russia with regards to Constantinople, an open contradiction to the countless German offers made to Italy. Bismarck had privately told Crispi that he would never let Russia have Constantinople for they would become "father of the Mediterranean”, and yet these signed documents stated clearly otherwise. Naturally in consequence, most Italians subsequently saw Germany as nothing less than duplicitous, their words as lies, and their secretive treaty as an open betrayal to the vaunted promise of ‘irredenta’.
In great contrast to the situation in Austria however, the highest echelons of the Italian government largely remained committed to their alliance with Germany irrespective of the damaging revelations. Many ministers, including Crispi, still harboured vengeful motivations against the French - and coupled with the lucrative promise of sizable territorial gains, provided justification enough to push on regardless. The French “slap of Tunisia”, the ongoing tariff war, the suppression of Italian minorities, and tense naval rivalries in the Mediterranean - in their minds at least, still greatly outweighed the negatives of any German slight.
As such in the days preceding and shortly following the outbreak of the Second Franco-German War, Italy would be the absolute focus of Count Dillon and the French Foreign Ministry in their efforts to untangle Germany’s nefarious web of alliances. Were it not for the Italian military and economic unpreparedness for an immediate campaign, these efforts could well have easily failed. However Crispi’s dithering in lieu of dire warnings from Italian generals, economists and businessmen alike, bought Dillon valuable time to secure their neutrality.
These determined efforts undertaken by the French, would culminate in the so-called “Reconciliation of Tunis”, later formalised in the landmark 1889 Palermo Agreement. Tunisia had long been the lynchpin of Italian hostility to France, ever since the protectorate was declared in 1881. Despite sizeable Italian economic interests, and an almost 3 to 1 ratio of Italian to French settlers, France - backed by a greedy cabal of other imperial powers - had unilaterally moved in and seized the territory from the Italian sphere against her wishes. The rampant anti-French sentiment propagated by the Crispi government can all be considered a direct consequence of this incident and almost all tensions subsequently a further result. As such, in Dillon’s mind, a “fair and equitable” settlement over the territory would be the best means by which to secure Italian friendship and thereby prevent their entry into the war. Although the French offer to effectively split Tunisia in half (without consultation given to the Bey of Tunis), was initially met with some scepticism in Italian circles, by the time diplomats had reluctantly agreed to meet in Palermo in April, it quickly became clear the French were genuinely sincere in their offer [11]. Dillon had rightly sensed that whilst French nationalists and colonial hawks would undoubtedly be infuriated at giving even an inch of French territory away - especially so to a hostile neighbour - the promise of reclamation in Alsace-Lorraine provided distraction enough.
By the end of the conference, a new border had been agreed, transferring the entire Eastern coast of Tunisia running from Tunis to Tataouine to the Italians; alongside other agreements nominally ending the tariff war, and transferring settler populations [12]. The treaty was a landmark event in both Italy and France, and acted as a testament to the willingness of imperial powers to negotiate in times of crisis - a lesson which was sadly forgotten by many in later decades, especially so by Italy. Whilst Crispi would continue his consistent hostility to the French delegation throughout the negotiations, after some significant prodding from his ministers, he consoled himself to neutrality for now - until such time as the military and economy were prepared for a war to reclaim the rest of Tunisia and other irredenta [13]. However, the shock of his ministers at the genuine reasonableness and amenity of the new French regime, contrary to the relentless propaganda telling them otherwise, would prove one of several factors that would ensure the fall of Crispi’s government before he could see the fulfilment of his irredentist wish.
Crispi had authoritatively maintained power in the often chaotic Italian Parliament for several long years through a broad coalition of radical leftists and the right. However soon after the Palermo Agreement, this coalition began to fracture on all fronts - few believing Crispi’s platitudes of ‘neutrality’. The right were horrified at the continuing burden of militarisation on the ballooning budget deficit, and further harboured lasting grudges over the effects of Crispi’s tariff war on Italian business interests. On the left, concern was given at the funding of the armed forces to the great detriment of social welfare programs. Similarly the endorsement of Boulanger by the Possibilist Socialist Congress in July, left many leftist parliamentarians with heavy doubts about the merits of the Crispi government for the workers' cause. Further concern was also given by all to the naval vulnerability of Italy, especially so after the German defeat in the Battle of the Wadden Sea, - its long coastline and dependency on foreign trade making it exceptionally exposed to French naval superiority.
However it would ultimately be the actions of Crispi himself, which would finally tear down his government. The Fasci Scilliani, a curious socialist workers movement, had been growing for some months now in rural Sicily throughout the year 1889. Rallying against rampant taxation, social restrictions and impositions against traditional Italian agricultural life - the success of Boulanger in France only further inspired more members to its ranks. By early August, the protestors were beginning to garner attention from across Italy - such was their increasing violent propensities. A general strike soon followed, and coupled with their lauding of Boulanger and vilification of Crispi - the matter had become almost a personal one to the Neapolitan Prime Minister.
As such by August 12th, Crispi had resolved to put down the growing rebellion and general strikes at any cost, by force if necessary. Crispi declared a state of siege in Sicily, and dispatched some 20,000 troops to secure the region. The Fasci were outlawed, workers societies and clubs across Sicily suspended, and restrictions on freedom of the press, protest and meetings imposed wholesale [14] - actions which of course only further incensed the protests, and led to yet greater violence and turmoil.
On August 21st, this conflict would at last come to a head. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon, nearly 3000 protestors amassed in Messina, marching on the local town hall within which the mayor had barricaded himself. Although the true actions continue to be hotly disputed to this day, the events which followed were nothing less than a massacre. In the ensuing chaos, soldiers gunned down some 742 protestors, and severely injured hundreds more. Even today, the citizens of Messina still mourn their dead, and have never fully forgiven the Italian government for its actions that fateful day.
In Rome, the already uneasy sentiment in parliament erupted in reaction to the atrocity. The brute violence indirectly ordered by Crispi only confounded his increasingly negative image of an authoritarian ruling by diktat. To countless members of the house, Crispi’s image had been transformed from that of a strong leader, to a murderer lashing out at even the slightest threat. By the end of the week his coalition had utterly collapsed, and in the ensuing vote of no confidence, Crispi would be defeated by an historically large majority - one rarely matched since. After this travesty, Crispi would retire from politics and effectively enter into self-imposed exile at his home in Naples - forever carrying the public legacy of the Italian blood on his hands.
Antonio Starabba, Marquess of Rudinì, and leader of the Historic Right, would soon emerge as his successor - governing in a coalition with the Radical Left under Felice Cavallotti [15]. The new government, whilst not outright Francophile, was certainly more open to French diplomacy, and by late August finally asserted its international neutrality in the war. The Fasci Scilliani themselves would continue to rumble onwards - growing ever more influential in Sicily - however it would be some years before any Italian politician would dare touch them, for fear that they too might be associated with the “murderous thuggery” of Crispi. Instead the new government largely focused on maintaining its own precarious coalition, and on grappling with the continuing fallout from its war neutrality.
Overall, the effectiveness of French diplomacy during this tense time period is remarkable - especially so considering how isolated France had found herself at the dawn of the Boulanger regime. In the space of almost six months, Count Dillon had ripped apart the Triple Alliance, sparked alight the ‘Russian bear‘, and humiliated Bismarck's reputation at home and overseas. Abandoned by her allies, and with the war swinging heavily in favour of the relentless French - Germany could no longer even cling on to its military dominance. Truly, it was the Kaisereich's darkest hour. The “Weltzerfallen” had begun....
By 1889, Bismarck's machinations had at last run ahead of him, as his attempts to juggle the Russian alliance with an anti-Russian Central European bloc finally began to falter. Russia’s reluctance to acquiesce to Bismarck’s secretive Reinsurance Treaty was already plainly clear at its adoption [4], but come the arrival of the French Marshal, many in the Tsarist court now stood in open objection. Whilst Tsar Alexander III himself did not at first grant the March on the Elysée a warm welcome, and initially made a determined effort to rebuff the French General's letters to him - as the opinions of the majority of his ministers shifted, much like the press - so eventually did his own inclinations [5]. Nevertheless this is not to downplay the initial hostility of both the Tsar and the press to Boulanger - especially so in the Russian capital, where the general aversion to any shaking up of the status quo remained a potent motivator. For example, many of St Petersburg’s press outfits, at first news of the coup, somewhat prematurely declared Boulanger as yet another French radical, and repeatedly raised vague notions of a new Napoleonic menace. Their country’s great suffering at the hands of foreign invaders still loomed large - especially so at the hands of that notorious French Emperor and his wake of insipid spawn, of whom Boulanger was so often categorised.
However, much like Alexander’s court, there lay significant divisions in the Russian reaction as a whole. In great contrast to the more placid newspapers of the Tsarist capital, the response in Moscow (the political centre of Russia's Conservatives and Slavophiles) instead stood rabidly in favour of the new French regime from the outset. In line with Russia’s great affinity for autocrats, they instead cast Boulanger as a strong leader who would restore glory and prowess to France and her peoples. One newspaper talked longingly of Russia's love affair for "brave military men", likening Boulanger to the martial heroes of Russian history. He was a "restorer of Kings, a protector of tradition, and a man wholly opposed to the cult of individualism", one even proclaiming him the "one bright point of light in the dark shadows of the West".
By late February 1889, even most Piter newspapers had shifted tack, and the groundswell in support for Boulanger and wider Germanophobia would soon become fully rooted - even in the capital. Fearing the press in its hysteria would soon turn on his own position, Tsar Alexander at last realised that the situation was no longer tenable, and that changes would have to be reluctantly made to his court to placate them. Nikolay Girs would be the most prominent of these dismissals, and undoubtedly the most effectual. The rabidly Germanophile Foreign Minister, and close confidante of Bismarck, had become a repeated ‘whipping boy’ on the front pages of Suvorin’s papers. Having had a less than friendly relationship with the press in the past, it is perhaps no wonder he was so targeted by them - however the sheer viciousness of their criticisms certainly took him aback. Day after day they accused him of being Bismarck’s puppet, a disloyal foreigner and even a closet Jew. Having outmanoeuvred the press so many times before, his abortive pleas to the Tsar to retain his post would be his final battle.
Alexey Borisovich Lobanov-Rostovsky was soon chosen as his successor - a man who, while no Slavophile, was certainly no friend of Germany. Soon after his appointment, Tsar Alexander even began to respond to Boulanger's letters (albeit with some motivation from his ministers), recognising the fruitful possibilities of a Franco-Russian detente - much to the delight of French Foreign Minister, Count Dillon. Although the Tsar had long been considered a Slavophile, wholly opposed to the German hegemony, after this point it seems a decisive change had taken place. Finally, Alexander’s government had been brought fully in line with his personal views - encompassed by ministers determined to avoid reverence to the status quo, and at last clearing out the diplomatic legacies of his father.
This pivotal shift in Russian policy after Alexander’s wave of “February Dismissals”, was first publicly put to the test in their response to the outbreak of the war. At the onset of the Skirmish at Conflans, the Russian diplomatic office issued a statement warning against German aggression towards France. However, whilst such statements had always been issued in the wake of the many Franco-German spats of the past, this statement instead seemed bolder, far more sinister in its tone [7] - albeit refraining from objectively declaring moral support to any side. To the world it could be plainly seen that the days of open Russo-German friendliness were over, and that, to the horror of Bismarck, and respective delight of Boulanger, the Russian bear was at last beginning to awaken from its long slumber.
The fervor from the treaty’s details was palpable, even in the fever surrounding the ongoing war. In Germany, Bismarck had always been accused of a "culpable friendliness" with Russia and despite all facts to the contrary, the press represented the Chancellor's government as having bent over backwards for Russia, only to receive insolence in return [9]. Old cartoons about Russian bonds dragging down German investors were revived, articles about the expulsion of German landowners from Russian Poland were recycled and the press promulgated scares about Russia even as they rattled on about the menace of Boulanger and the destiny of the Reich to crush France once and for all.
However a far greater international effect from the leaking of the treaty would be seen in Germany’s relations with her previously steadfast allies. Austria-Hungary in particular was utterly aghast at the treaty’s provisions, viewing Germany as perfidious, and reckless - having gone behind Austria’s back to do deals with their long time enemy. In return for Russian neutrality, Germany had effectively sold away Austria’s sphere in the Balkans to the Tsardom without permission - a move viewed as little else than a complete insult to the supposed Berlin-Vienna alliance.
In the wake of this, the fury of Emperor Franz Josef was indescribable, and within hours of discovering the treaty’s full terms, had ordered his ministers to begin wholly distancing Austria from Germany in reprisal. As such, though officially bound by the Triple Alliance to support Germany in its war - by the end of the week Austria had instead chosen to fully renege on its obligations and declare outright neutrality [10]. In a tactic later mimicked by Italy, Vienna declared the war to have been started due to German aggression (following the French line that the Conflans Incident had been provoked by German border troops) and therefore under the provisions of the alliance were therein not required to provide any active military support. The German government of course found itself infuriated at the insolence of its ally, but alas unable to do anything in return. War, and the turmoil ongoing at its own actions proved far too great a distraction for any efforts to be even considered to counter.
Such a diplomatic realignment for Austria is undoubtedly remarkable considering the backdrop of the past decade of Austro-German cooperation - even more so considering the rapidity with which it took place. However, historians often note that in Vienna’s eyes, neutrality was the preferable option in any case, irrespective of the diplomatic fissure. Austria had little to gain in sending its troops to die in war focused on Germany’s borders rather than its own. Much the same in the event of a German defeat, a weakened Reich might be more pliable to supporting Austrian interests - such was the empire's strategic importance to securing Germany’s vulnerable defensive frontiers. Therefore whilst the Emperor's fury at the scandalous press revelations was certainly important in the decision, numerous other factors of course also influenced his mind in those pivotal moments.
The reaction in the other, and often lesser regarded member of the Triple Alliance, Italy, similarly saw furious recriminations over the leaked treaty - albeit not quite matching Austria in its vitriol. Crispi's Italian government reeled at the "free hand" Germany had offered Russia with regards to Constantinople, an open contradiction to the countless German offers made to Italy. Bismarck had privately told Crispi that he would never let Russia have Constantinople for they would become "father of the Mediterranean”, and yet these signed documents stated clearly otherwise. Naturally in consequence, most Italians subsequently saw Germany as nothing less than duplicitous, their words as lies, and their secretive treaty as an open betrayal to the vaunted promise of ‘irredenta’.
In great contrast to the situation in Austria however, the highest echelons of the Italian government largely remained committed to their alliance with Germany irrespective of the damaging revelations. Many ministers, including Crispi, still harboured vengeful motivations against the French - and coupled with the lucrative promise of sizable territorial gains, provided justification enough to push on regardless. The French “slap of Tunisia”, the ongoing tariff war, the suppression of Italian minorities, and tense naval rivalries in the Mediterranean - in their minds at least, still greatly outweighed the negatives of any German slight.
As such in the days preceding and shortly following the outbreak of the Second Franco-German War, Italy would be the absolute focus of Count Dillon and the French Foreign Ministry in their efforts to untangle Germany’s nefarious web of alliances. Were it not for the Italian military and economic unpreparedness for an immediate campaign, these efforts could well have easily failed. However Crispi’s dithering in lieu of dire warnings from Italian generals, economists and businessmen alike, bought Dillon valuable time to secure their neutrality.
These determined efforts undertaken by the French, would culminate in the so-called “Reconciliation of Tunis”, later formalised in the landmark 1889 Palermo Agreement. Tunisia had long been the lynchpin of Italian hostility to France, ever since the protectorate was declared in 1881. Despite sizeable Italian economic interests, and an almost 3 to 1 ratio of Italian to French settlers, France - backed by a greedy cabal of other imperial powers - had unilaterally moved in and seized the territory from the Italian sphere against her wishes. The rampant anti-French sentiment propagated by the Crispi government can all be considered a direct consequence of this incident and almost all tensions subsequently a further result. As such, in Dillon’s mind, a “fair and equitable” settlement over the territory would be the best means by which to secure Italian friendship and thereby prevent their entry into the war. Although the French offer to effectively split Tunisia in half (without consultation given to the Bey of Tunis), was initially met with some scepticism in Italian circles, by the time diplomats had reluctantly agreed to meet in Palermo in April, it quickly became clear the French were genuinely sincere in their offer [11]. Dillon had rightly sensed that whilst French nationalists and colonial hawks would undoubtedly be infuriated at giving even an inch of French territory away - especially so to a hostile neighbour - the promise of reclamation in Alsace-Lorraine provided distraction enough.
Crispi had authoritatively maintained power in the often chaotic Italian Parliament for several long years through a broad coalition of radical leftists and the right. However soon after the Palermo Agreement, this coalition began to fracture on all fronts - few believing Crispi’s platitudes of ‘neutrality’. The right were horrified at the continuing burden of militarisation on the ballooning budget deficit, and further harboured lasting grudges over the effects of Crispi’s tariff war on Italian business interests. On the left, concern was given at the funding of the armed forces to the great detriment of social welfare programs. Similarly the endorsement of Boulanger by the Possibilist Socialist Congress in July, left many leftist parliamentarians with heavy doubts about the merits of the Crispi government for the workers' cause. Further concern was also given by all to the naval vulnerability of Italy, especially so after the German defeat in the Battle of the Wadden Sea, - its long coastline and dependency on foreign trade making it exceptionally exposed to French naval superiority.
However it would ultimately be the actions of Crispi himself, which would finally tear down his government. The Fasci Scilliani, a curious socialist workers movement, had been growing for some months now in rural Sicily throughout the year 1889. Rallying against rampant taxation, social restrictions and impositions against traditional Italian agricultural life - the success of Boulanger in France only further inspired more members to its ranks. By early August, the protestors were beginning to garner attention from across Italy - such was their increasing violent propensities. A general strike soon followed, and coupled with their lauding of Boulanger and vilification of Crispi - the matter had become almost a personal one to the Neapolitan Prime Minister.
As such by August 12th, Crispi had resolved to put down the growing rebellion and general strikes at any cost, by force if necessary. Crispi declared a state of siege in Sicily, and dispatched some 20,000 troops to secure the region. The Fasci were outlawed, workers societies and clubs across Sicily suspended, and restrictions on freedom of the press, protest and meetings imposed wholesale [14] - actions which of course only further incensed the protests, and led to yet greater violence and turmoil.
On August 21st, this conflict would at last come to a head. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon, nearly 3000 protestors amassed in Messina, marching on the local town hall within which the mayor had barricaded himself. Although the true actions continue to be hotly disputed to this day, the events which followed were nothing less than a massacre. In the ensuing chaos, soldiers gunned down some 742 protestors, and severely injured hundreds more. Even today, the citizens of Messina still mourn their dead, and have never fully forgiven the Italian government for its actions that fateful day.
In Rome, the already uneasy sentiment in parliament erupted in reaction to the atrocity. The brute violence indirectly ordered by Crispi only confounded his increasingly negative image of an authoritarian ruling by diktat. To countless members of the house, Crispi’s image had been transformed from that of a strong leader, to a murderer lashing out at even the slightest threat. By the end of the week his coalition had utterly collapsed, and in the ensuing vote of no confidence, Crispi would be defeated by an historically large majority - one rarely matched since. After this travesty, Crispi would retire from politics and effectively enter into self-imposed exile at his home in Naples - forever carrying the public legacy of the Italian blood on his hands.
Antonio Starabba, Marquess of Rudinì, and leader of the Historic Right, would soon emerge as his successor - governing in a coalition with the Radical Left under Felice Cavallotti [15]. The new government, whilst not outright Francophile, was certainly more open to French diplomacy, and by late August finally asserted its international neutrality in the war. The Fasci Scilliani themselves would continue to rumble onwards - growing ever more influential in Sicily - however it would be some years before any Italian politician would dare touch them, for fear that they too might be associated with the “murderous thuggery” of Crispi. Instead the new government largely focused on maintaining its own precarious coalition, and on grappling with the continuing fallout from its war neutrality.
Overall, the effectiveness of French diplomacy during this tense time period is remarkable - especially so considering how isolated France had found herself at the dawn of the Boulanger regime. In the space of almost six months, Count Dillon had ripped apart the Triple Alliance, sparked alight the ‘Russian bear‘, and humiliated Bismarck's reputation at home and overseas. Abandoned by her allies, and with the war swinging heavily in favour of the relentless French - Germany could no longer even cling on to its military dominance. Truly, it was the Kaisereich's darkest hour. The “Weltzerfallen” had begun....
[1] OTL this incident itself almost led to a war in 1887, thanks to the prickliness of Boulanger, then Minister of War. It was only averted thanks to Boulanger being forcibly removed from his position.
[2] For much of this time period as OTL, German geopolitical thinking grappled with the fear that they could end up in a similar fate to Poland - torn apart by their revanchist enemies to the West, East and South. This was a major reason why Bismarck spent so much effort with his elaborate alliance systems to protect their newfound prominence.
[3] As OTL, Bismarck failed to get this bill through the Reichstag. Germany is frankly lucky they didn’t have a major war in this time period IRL.
[4] Tsar Alexander rejected the Reinsurance Treaty at first. It was only thanks to the efforts of his rabidly Germanophile Foreign Minister Nikolay Girs that he reluctantly agreed.
[5] Boulanger’s clear statement of intention to reestablish the French monarchy also went a great way to persuading Tsar Alexander of the merits of his regime.
[6] In terms of monopolising opinion and influence, Suvorin was almost unrivalled. A sort of Murdoch of his day.
[7] In effect it gave the implication of stop killing each other, we are prepared to kill you to stop the killing.
[8] Franky it is a miracle this didn’t end up OTL in the press earlier. For a secret treaty, the Russians and Germans were terrible at keeping it under wraps. Both independently revealed it in parts to the Ottomans, Germany revealed a partial copy to Britain, and a Russia official transmitted it entirely to his French counterpart at one point.
[9] Press censorship during wartime wasn’t really a thing until WW1 as OTL, therefore newspapers were still able to get away with posting highly critical stuff about the government like this, without much consequence.
[10] Austria did however give a vague promise of “diplomatic support” to Germany in line with its interpretation of its honour-bound obligations, but went no further.
[11] Whether Italy would have remained neutral irrespective of the French Tunisia offer continues to be a significant source of historical contention. Italy was woefully unprepared for war in any case, and Crispi in spite of his rampant French hatred, seemed to realise this.
[12] This satisfied most Italians, they gained the majority of the Italian settled parts of Tunisia, and gained a slither of their beloved ‘Fourth Shore’. However many nationalists still demanded more, and accused the government of accepting scraps.
[13] Crispi also hoped to extract more definitive concessions from Germany before joining the war on their side.
[14] Crispi’s reaction to the Fasci as OTL, simply brought forward a few years due to the inspiration of Boulsnger and the international stresses of the war.
[15] Again this was the government that succeeded Crispi as OTL, just brought forward slightly and in more dramatic fashion.
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