The years before the start of World War I were a tumultuous time. The Balkans were aflame, having fought wars in 1912 and 1913. The German General Staff was warily eyeing Russia’s rearmament program, scheduled for completion in 1916, and discussing ways of using a crisis, or even provoking one, to force war before the Russians were ready. Meanwhile, the Austrian army chief was pestering the Emperor to strike Serbia, knowing that the army was not prepared and knowing that Russia would come its ally’s aid, but hoping to precipitate some sort of Götterdämmerung that would ring down the fading empire in a blaze of war and glory.
There are a number of books that discuss the geopolitical situation just prior to the outbreak of the war, but this is not one of them. As the author makes clear on the first page of the introduction, he is leaving politics to others, and will concentrate on the life of the world’s great cities just before the catastrophe which would spawn two world wars, the rise of communism, the Great Depression, nuclear weapons, and the modern world we know today. When British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey heard the drums of war in July 1914 he understood what was happening and said, "The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time.”
How do we make sense of that long-ago world? It would be well to keep in mind Leslie Hartley’s quote that “The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.” We must be mindful of reading our own impressions into those times, but if we are careful we can see echoes of our emerging world in things like urbanization, the spread of new technologies, mass communications, and new political ideologies. This book looks looks at the world of 1913 from the perspective of major cities, but for a long-term view of Europe following the fall of Napoleon, I recommend Richard J. Evans’s highly regarded The Pursuit of Power: Europe 1815-1914.
The Europeans of 1913 were no better at foreseeing the future than we are today. There had been no major wars on the continent for a century, and many thought there would be none in the future. The Grand Illusion, a best-selling book by Norman Angell, published in 1910, argued that globalization (though he did not use that word) had coupled the world’s economies together so tightly that war would be suicide. It is well to keep that thought in mind when we hear people say that nuclear war is also unthinkable because it would also be suicide.
On the other hand, talk of war was was everywhere. In 1888 the newly crowned Kaiser Wilhelm II had dismissed Otto von Bismarck as chancellor and foolishly allowed a treaty with Russia to expire. The Russians had sought allies elsewhere and formed an alliance with France, so Germany had potential enemies to both east and west, and the Kaiser’s aggressive naval building program had alarmed Britain to the point where it went from being Germany’s closest ally to signing military understandings with France about potential joint action in the event of war. Germany could count on the Austro-Hungarian empire for support, but it was famously the “sick man of Europe,” slowly dissolving under the pressures of rising nationalism among its dozens of ethnic groups.
There had already been war scares before, and many people wondered whether conflict was inevitable. On New Year’s Eve 1914 England’s Daily Graphic newspaper wrote that “while welcoming the fact that European peace had weathered the storms of war in the Balkans, problems in Mexico and the Middle East are particularly worrying. ‘With every opportunity of doing otherwise’, the newspaper noted, ‘1913 has spared us Armageddon.’ But for 1914: ‘wherever we look we see the grim apparatus of war, ever growing, ever squandering the fruits of peace. Well may we pray for a Happy New Year!’” (p. 454)
This book looks at twenty-two cities around the world, in Europe (London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, St. Petersburg, and Vienna), North America (Washington, New York, Detroit, Los Angeles, Mexico City, and Winnipeg), and other parts of the world (Buenos Aries, Algiers, Bombay, Durban, Tehran, Jerusalem, Constantinople, Peking, Shanghai, and Tokyo). Some of the chapters are Baedeker-style travel guides, looking at art and architecture, and others give brief synopses of the social or political events going on, such as the plans for Irish independence or the state of race relations in Washington D.C., where President Woodrow Wilson rolled back decades of progress since the Civil War by resegregating the federal government.
There are also some thumbnail appraisals of key political figures of the time, which give insight into the personalities involved. For instance, “Kaiser Wilhelm II had invested heavily in memorials and monuments to emphasise Prussia’s historical claims to greatness, and to give the place some gravitas. ([Theodore] Dreiser termed the resulting sculptures ‘a crime against humanity’.” (p. 80-81) The Kaiser’s need for adulation seemed silly to other nations, as it does to us today, but he embodied the sentiments of many Germans who felt that their country, which had only come into unified existence four decades earlier, needed to assert its place in the world and be treated with appropriate respect. In a memorable line, the author describes Wilhelm II as “a man who sought to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral.” (p. 84)
Russia was also a wildcard in Europe’s political calculations. It was useful as an ally, and everyone remembered the essential role it had played in thwarting Napoleon’s ambitions, but its backwardness and hostility to democracy and reform alienated many other nations, which kept it at arm’s length. It was still recovering from the revolution of 1905 that had followed the disastrous war with Japan, and its situation was not helped by the fact that the Tsar, like the Kaiser, tried to hide his weakness and indecisiveness behind an aura of bellicosity. “The Tsar’s own theory of government, as one former Russian premier described it in 1912, was positively infantile, ‘I do what I wish, and what I wish is good; if people do not see it, it is because they are plain mortals, while I am God’s anointed.’” (p. 138)
Across the globe the spread of technology was having big social and economic impacts. The airplane was in its infancy, but the telegraph allowed rapid communications between far-flung cities, ships were making the change from coal and reciprocating engines to the more efficient oil fuel and steam turbine propulsion, and, of course the automobile was starting to leave its mark. “Endless innovation in the manufacturing process led, by 1913, to the world’s first fully-fledged production line. Six years after the first prototype Model T had been built at the Piquette plant in Detroit, a single nine-hour shift at the much larger Highland Park plant assembled one thousand cars. The company estimated that it now produced one-third of all American cars.” (p. 199) As an aside, in Henry Beston’s 1928 book The Outermost House, he uses “Ford” as a generic term to refer to any truck or automobile.
How valuable is this book for the student of World War I? It is useful, but not essential. It fills in some helpful details about the world at the time and the men who ran it, but its focus is not on the political calculations that were to lead to disaster. A book such as Max Hastings’ Catastrophe 1914: Europe Goes to War, is probably a better introduction to the players and circumstances that were to lead to the first global conflagration.