THE CONDUCT OF SERVIA.
THE Times, which, though with singular waverings and hesitation of tone from time to time, has been, on the whole, favourable to the Slavonic cause in Turkey, began a leading article on Monday by comparing Servia to a child grievously vexed with devils, and intimating that the possession was not single,—that there was a Russian devil, we suppose, as well as a Servian devil in possession of her organisation,—and then without circumlocution, the writer added, "Servia is gone mad." We observe a tone more or less approaching this in other writers and speakers who give a cordial support to the Slavonic cause. Even Lord Stratford de Redcliffe proposes that Servia should be punished at the peace for her attack on the Porte. Turkey may be very wicked, but Servia is out of her wits not to trust to the diplomatists, and throw herself on the mercy of
Europe. Even Mr. Bright implied, if we understand him rightly, that Servia's conduct in originally going to war was regrettable, though not what Lord Beaconsfield called it, flagrantly treacherous and dishonourable. And now that Servia has declined the further suspension of hostilities without a regular armistice, and even stated that she will not have terms of peace imposed upon her without herself agreeing to those terms of peace, some of the friends of the Slavonic cause have no words in which to describe their condemnation of her un- willingness to take whatever it pleases Europe to grant, in order to prevent the further extension of the conflagration. Now, is there the slightest reason in these reproaches ? Look- ing at the question as a matter of calm and prudent cal- culation, can any one doubt that Servia has, even already, immensely advanced the cause for which she went to war by going to war, or that,—at least till she has brought some adequate champion amongst the Great Powers into the field,—she is doing all she can for the cause for which she declared war, by refusing even to consider such terms of peace as Lord Derby proposed ? Consider the difference between the political situation on July 1, when Servia declared war, and the present moment. No doubt that difference is due, in great measure, to the Bulgarian massacres, at least as re- gards this country and Europe in general. But as regards the public feeling in Russia and the diplomatic attitude of Russia, it is due as much to the Servian war and the Servian defeats, and the political as well as military dangers which Servia has incurred, as to the revelations from Bulgaria. Nay, had there been no war, the revelations from Bulgaria could not have had anything like the effect on European public opinion in general, which they actually have had. It was the Servian war which gave them half their political significance. No doubt, in any case, after such events had become known, the public outcry for a strong practical remedy in Bulgaria would have been very powerful. But it was the existence of the Servian war which gave the demand for that remedy a larger extension, which raised,—and alone could have raised,—the proposal to set up a chain of autonomous States from the Adriatic to the mouth of the Danube, into a serious purpose. The Bulgarian massacres, taken alone, could not possibly have led to the same grave and urgent negotiations. Every one knows the difference between the temper of European negotiators when the flame of war is once kindled, and that of negotiators who are hoping to prevent war and smooth down difficulties. A wholly different class of proposals are suggested for the one situation and for the other. When the scabbard has been thrown away, and national sympathies are quickened to the utmost, and volunteers come pouring in from one people to the armies of a kindred people, the European Powers know perfectly well that paper remedies are useless, that something efficacious must be done, if peace is to be re- stored. Had the Bulgarian massacres occurred alone, had no Slavonic armies been openly pitted against the Turks, had no stream of volunteers flowed from Russia into the Slavonic pro- vinces, the popular indignation in Russia might have been great, but it would not have operated on the Governments of Europe with anything like the force with which it operates now. Some- thing must be done now which will stop a mighty engine already in motion, or at least render it possible for the Governments of Europe to stop it without making themselves odious to the nations they govern. The difference is the same as that between the force which is required to keep a rock in its place before it is dislodged, and that which is necessary to stop it when it is already bounding from height to height. Taken alone, the Bulgarian massacres would have, no doubt, yielded a crop of serious official invectives and exhortations,— possibly even a threat of direct intervention in Bulgaria ;—but it is the war which gives them their real significance, which makes Russian demands so much more peremptory than they other- wise would be, and which therefore wakens up all the other Governments to propose what could alone satisfy these peremp- tory demands. Servia's force in the field is small, but the fact that it is where it is, gives all the reality and gravity which they possess to the political negotiations. Every Power knows that the concessions to the cause for which Servia is in arms must be substantial, before it is possible to put Servia down. The mere notion of Austria's occupying Servia, in order to im- pose on her such terms of peace as Lord Derby's,—Russian sym- pathies being what they are,—is utterly absurd. By going to war, and by refusing to make peace till some great and substantial step is gained for the cause for which she fights, Servia has made a meaningless compromise impossible, and has forced the hand of her political supporters among the Governments of Europe. If she were to drop her arms now, or to assent to any peace which the Powers might impose, she would lose all this advantage. At present, it would be the most difficult and odious function in the world for Austria to have to occupy Servia and impose peace ; and it would be quite impossible for Austria to discharge such a function without cordial co-operation ; and this co-operation she can never get, unless Servia puts herself in the wrong by refusing to be content with the actual removal of the grievances which she went to war to redress.
We say, then, with Mr. Cowen, the Member for Newcastle —one of the comparatively few speakers who have spoken of the conduct of Servia with hearty admiration—that Servia went to war from thoroughly noble motives in a thoroughly noble cause ; nay, more, we say that circum- stances hitherto have proved her conduct to be wise ; and that so far from her having been mad to refuse to prolong an unmeaning armistice, simply that Turkey might consider terms of peace which did not in the least meet the exigencies of the case, she showed nothing but Ihe same noble and saga- cious instinct which plunged her into the war. The con- demnation which her conduct meets with in England sounds as if it all proceeded from a purely humane and pacific temper. But that is not the secret of it. England, combative to the core herself, has never shown this temper in the case of quarrels in which she was interested. During the American civil war, the friends of the South cheered on the rebellion as passionately as the friends of Turkey now condemn the Bertha rebellion. The friends of the North were equally and, as we think, righteously earnest against any pacific overtures con- ceding the principle of Secession, or the innocence of Slavery, made on behalf of the North. In the Franco-German war the English friends of Germany praised her for fighting to the bitter end, and the friends of France lavished eulogies on Gambetta for his patriotic resistance. When Englishmen see a battle going on between two combatants with either of whom they sympathise, depend upon it they will not praise, but blame, that combatant for making peace needlessly without securing his end. When Servia is attacked, as she is, for her bellicose disposition, for availing herself of the help of Russia,—just as if we ever blamed Garibaldi for availing himself of the help of Englishmen !—or for her want of filial respect for the European Powers, depend upon it that the persons who revile her for her conduct are either friends of the Turk, or too indifferent to either side to approve of so inconvenient a thing as war. Of course the friends of the Turk heap reproaches on Servia. If she gave in, Turkey would be comparatively safe at once,—not because the military danger would be re- moved, for that is not immediately great, but because the Powers could then dictate any terms they would, without being compelled to take the very invidious and unpopular measures necessary to enforce those terms against Servia ; and it is likely enough that Russia, whose ruler really wishes for peace, would seize the opportunity thus afforded to postpone the crisis to a more convenient season. The English condemnation of Servia is not reasonable, and is not genuine, for it is either a disguised form of sympathy with Turkey, or a disguised form of the wish to be rid of vexatious excitement, without any of the true securities for a lasting peace. For our parts, we believe that Servia did right when she went to war, and does right in re- fusing to make peace without attaining any substantial end for which she fights ; and that the only weakness of which she has been guilty has been the weakness of her civil ruler, in soliciting an intervention which the people did not desire and the army did not sanction, and which was offered only on terms fatal to the great object of the war.