With the centenary of the First World War’s outbreak in 2014, historians are revisiting and reanalyzing the events of the July Crisis in greater depth and breadth than ever before. In Part 2, we explore the current historiographical landscape, and identify key battlegrounds for the historians of today. Avan Fata explains.
If you missed it part 1 here introduces the debates on World War 1 historiography.
Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany in Tangier, Morocco. Part of the First Moroccan Crisis (1905-06).
In the previous article, we delved into the development of the historiography on the origins of the First World War. From the immediate postwar revisionist-orthodox debates to the ‘comfortable consensus’ of an inadvertent “slide” into war in the 1930s, to the revival of the debate over war guilt with Fritz Fischer in the 1960s. All of these debates were marked by one inescapable theme: that historians writing about 1914 were also reflecting their contemporary political situations. Many of them had fought in the war; more had lived through the turbulent 20th century which had stemmed in some way from the postwar settlement at Versailles. Yet now, in the 21st century, the First World War has faded into a distant memory – with the last veterans having passed away, it is no longer an event etched into the personal histories of our modern society.
Even so, the events of July 1914 continue to fascinate historians and the larger public as a whole. Commemorative events to mark the centenary of the war’s outbreak were also accompanied by the publication of dozens of works on the origins of the war. Rather than finally settling the question of who started the conflict, these works represent the continuation and diversification of the debate on the beginning of World War I. This part of the article deals with that broadening of the debate, identifying the key “battlegrounds” and historiographical approaches which recent historiography has popularized.
Focuses
What made 1914 different from other crises?
This is the specific question which we might ask in order to understand a key focus of monographs and writings on the origins of World War I. Following the debate on Fischer’s thesis in the 1960s, historians have begun looking beyond the events of June - August 1914 in order to understand why the assassination of an archduke was the ‘spark’ which lit the powder keg of the continent.
1914 was not a “critical year” where tensions were at their highest in the century. Plenty of other crises had occurred beforehand, namely the two Moroccan crises of 1905-06 and 1911, the Bosnian Crisis of 1908-09, and two Balkan Wars in 1912-13. Why did Europe not go to war as a result of any of these crises? What made the events of 1914 unique, both in the conditions present across the continent, and within the governments themselves, that ultimately led to the outbreak of war?
Even within popular history narratives, these events have slowly but surely been integrated into the larger picture of the lead up to 1914. Even a cursory analysis of these crises reveals several interesting notes:
The Entente Powers, not the Triple Alliance, were the ones who tended to first utilize military diplomacy/deterrence, and often to a greater degree.
Mediation by other ‘concerned powers’ was, more often than not, a viable and indeed desirable outcome which those nations directly involved in the crises accepted without delay.
The strength of the alliance systems with mutual defense clauses, namely the Triple Alliance and the Franco-Russian Alliance, were shaky at best during these crises. France discounted Russian support against Germany in both Moroccan crises for example, and Germany constantly urged restraint to Vienna in its Balkan policy (particularly towards Serbia).
Even beyond the diplomatic history of these crises, historians have also analyzed the impact of other aspects in the years preceding 1914. William Mulligan, for example, argues that the economic conditions in those years generated heightened tensions as the great powers competed for dwindling markets and industries.[1] Plenty of recent journal articles have outlined the growth of nationalist fervor and irredentist movements in the Balkans, and public opinion has begun to re-occupy a place in such investigations - though not, we must stress, with quite the same weight that it once carried in the historiography.[2]
Yet perhaps the most often-written about aspect of the years prior to 1914 links directly with another key focus in the current historiography: militarization.
Militarization
As touched on in the first article, this aspect of the historiography is essentially the idea that Europe was ‘dragged’ into a war by the great powers’ heightened state of militarization, and that the interlocking series of mobilization plans which, once initiated, could not be stopped. In the 1990s, scholars began to re-examine these claims, which had sat so comfortably and dominantly in the interwar consensus of the 1930s and remained a key implicit assumption of Cold War historiography as well.[3]
These historians argued that despite the militarization of the great powers and the mobilization plans, the civilian statesmen remained firmly in control of policy, and that the decision to go to war was a conscious one that they made, fully aware of the consequences of such a choice.[4] The generals were not, as Barbara Tuchmann exaggeratedly wrote, “pounding the table for the signal to move”.[5] Indeed, in Vienna the generals were doing quite the opposite: early in the July Crisis Chief of the General Staff Conrad von Hotzendorf remarked to Foreign Minister Berchtold that the army would only be able to commence operations against Serbia on August 12, and that they would not even be able to mobilize until after the harvest leave finished on July 25.
However, the recent historiographical shift has re-emphasized investigating how militarization influenced the diplomacy of the great powers during the July Crisis.[6] Recent studies have studied in depth how the Bosnian Crisis of 1908-09 and the two Balkan Wars of 1912-13 demonstrated to Vienna and St. Petersburg that military force was a helpful tool when it came to achieving their respective diplomatic aims.[7] Yet the extent to which this thinking influenced the minds of the statesmen of 1914 remains a key area under debate, with particular focus on the ‘calculated risk’ argument – the idea that all the governments understood the consequences of their mobilizations, and chose to undertake them anyways.
These rebuttals of the “inadvertent war” thesis have proven to be better substantiated and more persuasive, thus the current norm in historiography has shifted to look further within the halls of power in 1914. That is, the analyses have shifted to look beyond the generals, mobilization plans, and military staff; and instead towards the diplomats, ministers, and decision-makers who made those fateful choices during the July Crisis.
Decision Makers
Who occupied the halls of power both during the lead up to 1914 and whilst the crisis was unfolding? What decisions did they make and what impact did those actions have on the larger geopolitical/diplomatic situation of their nation?
Although Europe was very much a continent of monarchs in 1900, those monarchs did not hold supreme power over their respective apparatus of state. Even the most autocratic of the great powers at the time, Russia, possessed a council of ministers which convened at critical moments during the July Crisis to decide on their country’s response to Austro-Hungarian aggression. Contrast that to the most ‘democratic’ country of the great powers, France (in that the Third Republic did not have a monarch), and the confusing enigma that was the foreign ministry - occupying the Quai D’Orsay - and it becomes clear that understanding what motivated and influenced the men (and they were all men) who held/shared the reigns of policy is tantamount to better understanding how events progressed the way they did in 1914.
A good example of just how many dramatis personae have become involved in the current historiography can be found in Margaret Macmillan’s chatty pop-history work, The War that Ended Peace (2014). Her characterizations and side-tracks about such figures as Lord Salisbury, Friedrich von Holstein, and Theophile Delcasse are not out of step with contemporary academic monographs. Entire narratives and investigations have been published about the role of an individual in the lead up to the events of the July Crisis, Mombauer’s Helmuth von Moltke and the Origins of the First World War (2001) or T.G Otte’s Statesman of Europe: A Life of Sir Edward Grey (2020) stand out in this regard.
Not only has the cast become more civilian and larger in the past few decades, but it has also come to recognize the plurality of decision-making during 1914. Historians now stress that disagreements within governments (alongside those between them) are equally important to understand the many voices of European decision-making before as well as during 1914. Naturally, this focus reaches its climax in the days of the July Crisis, where narratives now emphasize in minutiae just how divided the halls of power were.
Alongside these changes in focus with the people who contributed to (or warned against) the decision to go to war, recent narratives have begun to highlight the voices of those who represented their governments abroad; the ambassadors. Likewise, newer historiographical works have re-focused their lenses on diplomatic history prior to the war. Within this field, one particular process and area of investigation stands out: the polarization of Europe.
Polarization
Prior to the developments within First World War historiography from the 1990s onwards, it was not uncommon for historians and politicians - at least in the interwar period - to propagate theses which pinned the war’s origins on factors of “mass demand”: nationalism, militarism, and social Darwinism among them. These biases not only impacted their interpretations of the events building up to 1914, as well as the July Crisis itself, but also imposed an overarching thread; an omnipresent motivator which guided (and at times “forced”) the decision-makers to commit to courses of action which moved the continent one step closer to war.
These overarching theories have since been refuted by historians, and the current historiographical approach emphasizes case-specific analyses of each nation’s circumstances, decisions, and impact in both crises and diplomacy. Whilst these investigations have certainly yielded key patterns and preferences within the diplomatic maneuvers of each nation, they sensibly stop short of suggesting that these modus operandi were inflexible to different scenarios, or that they even persisted as the decision-makers came and went. The questions now revolve around why and how the diplomacy of the powers shifted in the years prior to 1914, and how the division of Europe into “two armed camps”
What all of these new focuses imply - indeed what they necessitate - is that historians utilize a transnational approach when attempting to explain the origins of the war. Alan Kramer goes so far as to term it the sine qua non (essential condition) in the current historiography; a claim that many historians would be inclined to agree with.[8] Of course, that is not to suggest that a good work must not give more focus to one (or a group) of nations over the others, but works which focus on a single nation’s path to war are rarer than they were prior to this recent shift in focus.
Thus, there we have a general overview of how the focuses of historiography on the First World War have shifted in the past 30 years, and it would perhaps not be too far-fetched to suggest that these focuses may very well change in and of themselves within the next 30 years too. The next and final part shall deal with how, within these focuses, there are various stances which historians have argued and adopted in their approach to explaining the origins of the First World War.
Personalities vs. Precedents
To suggest that the First World War was the fault of a group of decision-makers is leaning dangerously close to reducing the role that those officials played in the lead up to the conflict - not to mention to dismiss outright those practices and precedents which characterized their country’s policy preferences prior to 1914. There was, as hinted at previously, no dictator at the helm of any of the powers; the plurality of cabinets, imperial ministries, and advisory bodies meant that the personalities of those decision-makers must be analyzed in light of their influence on the larger national, and transnational state of affairs.
To then suggest that the “larger forces” of mass demand served as invisible guides on these men is to dismiss the complex and unique set of considerations, fears, and desires which descended upon Paris, Berlin, St. Petersburg, London, Vienna, and Belgrade in July of 1914. Though these forces may have constituted some of those fears and considerations, they were by no means the powerful structural factors which plagued all the countries during the July Crisis. Holger Herwig sums up this stance well:
“The ‘big causes,’ by themselves, did not cause the war. To be sure, the system of secret alliances, militarism, nationalism, imperialism, social Darwinism, and the domestic strains… had all contributed toward forming the mentalite, the assumptions (both spoken and unspoken) of the ‘men of 1914.’[But] it does injustice to the ‘men of 1914’ to suggest that they were all merely agents - willing or unwilling - of some grand, impersonal design… No dark, overpowering, informal, yet irresistible forces brought on what George F. Kennan called ‘the great seminal tragedy of this century.’ It was, in each case, the work of human beings.”
I have therefore termed this battleground one of “personalities” against “precedents”, because although historians are now quick to dismiss the work of larger forces as crucial in explaining the origins of the war, they are still inclined to analyze the extent to which these forces influenced each body of decision-makers in 1914 (as well as previous crises). Within each nation, indeed within each of the government officials, there were precedents which changed and remained from previous diplomatic crises. Understanding why they changed (or hadn’t), as well as determining how they factored into the decision-making processes, is to move several steps closer to fully grasping the complex developments of July 1914.
Intention vs. Prevention
Tied directly to the debate over the personalities and their own motivations for acting the way they did is the debate over intention and prevention. To identify the key figures who pressed for war and those who attempted to push for peace is perhaps tantamount to assigning blame in some capacity. Yet historians once again have become more aware of the plurality of decision-making. Moltke and Bethmann-Hollweg may have been pushing for a war with Russia sooner rather than later, but the Kaiser and foreign secretary Jagow preferred a localized war between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. Likewise, Edward Grey may have desired to uphold Britain’s honor by coming to France’s aid, but until the security of Belgium became a serious concern a vast majority of the House of Commons preferred neutrality or mediation to intervention.
This links back to the focus mentioned earlier about how these decision-makers came to make the decisions they did during the July Crisis. What finally swayed those who had held out for peace to authorize war? Historians now have discarded the notion that the generals and military “took control” of the process at critical stages, so now we must further investigate the shifts in thinking and circumstances which impacted the policy preferences of the “men of 1914”. Perhaps the best summary of this battleground and the need to understand how these decision-makers came to make the fateful choices they did is best summarized by Margaret Macmillan:
"There are so many questions and as many answers again. Perhaps the most we can hope for is to understand as best we can those individuals, who had to make the choices between war and peace, and their strengths and weaknesses, their loves, hatreds, and biases. To do that we must also understand their world, with its assumptions. We must remember, as the decision-makers did, what had happened before that last crisis of 1914 and what they had learned from the Moroccan crises, the Bosnian one, or the events of the First Balkan Wars. Europe’s very success in surviving those earlier crises paradoxically led to a dangerous complacency in the summer of 1914 that, yet again, solutions would be found at the last moment and the peace would be maintained."
Contingency vs. Certainty
“No sovereign or leading statesmen in any of the belligerent countries sought or desired war - certainly not a European war.”
The above remark by David Lloyd George in 1936 reflects a dangerous theme that has been thoroughly discredited in recent historiography: the so-called “slide” thesis. That is, the belief that the war was not a deliberate choice by any of the statesmen of Europe, and that the continent as a whole simply - to use another oft-quoted phrase from Lloyd George - “slithered over the brink into the boiling cauldron of war”. The statesmen of Europe were well aware of the consequences of their choices, and explicitly voiced their awareness of the possibility of war at multiple stages of the July Crisis.
At the same time, to suggest that there was a collective responsibility for the war - a stance which remained dominant in the immediate postwar writings until the 1960s - is to also neutralize the need to reexamine the choices taken during the July Crisis. If everyone had a part to play, then what difference would it make if Berlin or London or St. Petersburg was the one that first moved towards armed conflict? This argument once again brings up the point of inadvertence as opposed to intention. Despite Christopher Clark’s admirable attempt to suggest that the statesmen were “blind to the reality of the horror they were about to bring into the world”, the evidence put forward en masse by other historians suggest quite the opposite. Herwig remarks once again that this inadvertent “slide” into war was far from the case with the statesmen of 1914:
“In each of the countries…, a coterie of no more than about a dozen civilian and military rulers weighed their options, calculated their chances, and then made the decision for war…. Many decision makers knew the risk, knew that wider involvement was probable, yet proceeded to take the next steps. Put differently, fully aware of the likely consequences, they initiated policies that they knew were likely to bring on the catastrophe.”
So the debate now lies with ascertaining at what point during the July Crisis the “window” for a peaceful resolution to the crisis finally closed, and when war (localized or continental) was all but certain. A.J.P Taylor remarked rather aptly that “no war is inevitable until it breaks out”, and determining when exactly the path to peace was rejected by each of the belligerent powers is crucial to that most notorious of tasks when it comes to explaining the causes of World War I: placing blame.
Responsibility
“After the war, it became apparent in Western Europe generally, and in America as well, that the Germans would never accept a peace settlement based on the notion that they had been responsible for the conflict. If a true peace of reconciliation were to take shape, it required a new theory of the origins of the war, and the easiest thing was to assume that no one had really been responsible for it. The conflict could readily be blamed on great impersonal forces - on the alliance system, on the arms race and on the military system that had evolved before 1914. On their uncomplaining shoulders the burden of guilt could be safely placed.”
The idea of collective responsibility for the First World War, as described by Marc Trachtenberg above, still carries some weight in the historiography today. Yet it is no longer, as noted previously, the dominant idea amongst historians. Nor, for that matter, is the other ‘extreme’ which Fischer began suggesting in the 1960s: that the burden of guilt, the label of responsibility, and thus the blame, could be placed (or indeed forced) upon the shoulders of a single nation or group of individuals.
The interlocking, multilateral, and dynamic diplomatic relations between the European powers prior to 1914 means that to place the blame on one is to propose that their policies, both in response to and independent of those which the other powers followed, were deliberately and entirely bellicose. The pursuit of these policies, both in the long-term and short-term, then created conditions which during the July Crisis culminated in the fatal decision to declare war. To adopt such a stance in one’s writing is to dangerously assume several considerations that recent historiography has brought to the fore and rightly warned against possessing:
That the decision-making in each of the capitals was an autocratic process, in which opposition was either insignificant to the key decision-maker or entirely absent,
That a ‘greater’ force motivated the decision-makers in a particular country, and that the other nations were powerless to influence or ignore the effect of this ‘guiding hand’,
That any anti-war sentiments or conciliatory diplomatic gestures prior to 1914 (as well as during the July Crisis) were abnormalities; case-specific aberrations from the ‘general’ pro-war pattern,
To conclude, when it comes to the current historiography on the origins of the First World War, the ‘blame game’ which is heavily associated with the literature on the topic has reached at least something resembling a consensus: this was not a war enacted by one nation above all others, nor a war which all the European powers consciously or unconsciously found themselves obliged to join. Contingency, the mindset of decision-makers, and the rapidly changing diplomatic conditions are now the landscapes which academics are analyzing more thoroughly than ever, refusing to paint broad strokes (the “big” forces) and instead attempting to specify, highlight, and differentiate the processes, persons, and prejudices which, in the end, deliberately caused the war to break out.
What do you think of World War One historiography? Let us know below.
[1] William Mulligan, The Origins of the First World War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
[2] A good overview of the recent historiography with regards to these aspects is Geppert, Dominik, William Mulligan, and Andreas Rose, eds. The Wars before the Great War: Conflict and International Politics before the Outbreak of the First World War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015).
[3] Annika Mombauer, The Origins of the First World War: Controversies and Consensus (New York: Routledge, 2003).
[4] A critical article which progressed this shift is Marc Trachtenberg, “The Meaning of Mobilization in 1914.” International Security 15, no. 3 (1990): 120-150.
[5] Barbara Tuchman, The Guns of August, 1962.
[6] A good overview of the historiographical developments in this regard is William Mulligan, “The Trial Continues: New Directions in the Study of the Origins of the First World War.” The English Historical Review 129, no. 538 (June 2014): 639-666.
[7] See for example, David Stevenson, “Militarization and Diplomacy in Europe before 1914.” International Security 22, no. 1 (1997): 125-161; David Stevenson, “War by Timetable? The Railway Race before 1914.” Past & Present 162 (1999): 163-194.
[8] Alan Kramer, “Recent Historiography of the First World War (Part I),” Journal of Modern European History / Zeitschrift Für Moderne Europäische Geschichte / Revue D'histoire Européenne Contemporaine 12, no. 2 (2014): 160-161
