Chapter Five: Open and Hidden Struggles
The second imperial council after Frederick III's ascension finally addressed matters of true importance.
Intelligence had confirmed that, as early as last year, France had extended an alliance overture to Russia. In pursuit of this, France was preparing to offer Russia a loan of five hundred million francs this year—an increase from the previously mentioned four hundred million francs. With these funds, Russia intended to purchase a vast quantity of military supplies from France, including half a million rifles.
Clearly, five hundred million francs would be far from sufficient.
By estimates, if Russia planned to expand its army by a million men, at least two billion francs would be required. If one included the planned construction of the Far Eastern railway, the loan would need to be even larger.
On this basis, Bismarck surmised that France would eventually extend some two billion francs in loans to Russia.
What did this signify?
Despite its vast lands and resources, Russia was not wealthy. Given Russia’s finances—especially its fiscal surplus—it would take at least twenty years to repay such a loan.
This meant that the French authorities had never truly expected Russia to repay them.
Such generosity from France could only rest on one condition: that Russia respond favorably to the alliance overture and sign a treaty of alliance with France.
As yet, however, there was no news of such a treaty.
But should France and Russia form a military alliance, it would pose a mortal threat to the Empire.
The mood in the council was tense; even Bismarck and Moltke wore somber expressions, and Frederick III listened in silence until the end.
The conclusion of the discussion was that, aside from preparing for war with France and Russia, it was imperative to seek Britain’s support.
As was customary, when the meeting concluded, Bismarck, Moltke, and other high-ranking statesmen and generals remained behind, awaiting a private audience with the Emperor to discuss even more critical matters.
The Minister of War was likewise a figure of great consequence.
Within the political structure of the German Second Empire, the War Minister ranked just below the Imperial Chancellor and Foreign Minister, and above the Chief of the General Staff.
Previously, this position had been held by Count Albrecht von Roon, the architect of the modern Imperial Army.
Count von Roon was also a close friend to both Bismarck and Moltke; it was he who had introduced them to Emperor William, and together the three became the principal founders of the German Second Empire.
Thus, Moltke’s objection to the Emperor’s appointment of Feng Chengqian as Minister of War was not without reason.
In the company of these three senior statesmen, Frederick III seemed less constrained and more approachable.
In the German Second Empire, the Emperor was a lofty figurehead. Except for the Chancellor and the Chief of the General Staff, who answered directly to the Emperor, most administrative affairs were overseen by the Chancellor, and military operations by the General Staff. The Emperor’s actual power was limited.
Evidently, the Emperor had to issue orders through the Chancellor and the Chief of the General Staff.
In a sense, the War Minister was the bridge between the government and the military.
Therefore, the true inner council needed only the Chancellor, the War Minister, and the Chief of the General Staff; other military officials were superfluous.
Feng Chengqian had already conferred privately with Bismarck, and the two were of one mind regarding the Franco-Russian alliance.
They both agreed that the key lay not with France or Russia, but with Britain’s stance. As long as Britain could be won over, the impact of the Franco-Russian alliance would be minimal.
But how could Britain’s support be secured?
Feng Chengqian’s views coincided with Bismarck’s: Britain must be made to believe that the Empire was the victim of the Franco-Russian alliance; that the union of France and Russia was bound to disrupt the continental order, threaten Britain’s vital interests, and strip it of its ability to dominate European affairs.
Yet neither man held much confidence in this approach.
The most powerful state on the continent was neither France nor Russia, but the German Second Empire, which had already come to be seen as a threat by Britain.
From another perspective, Britain had no wish to see the German Second Empire grow stronger.
The result was inevitable: even with British sympathy and support, the Franco-Russian alliance could not be averted and would continue to menace the Empire.
Whether Britain would intervene when necessary remained uncertain.
All things considered, the Empire had to prepare for both possibilities.
Fortunately, the Emperor and his three chief ministers were united in their views.
Now came the question of how to proceed.
After half an hour’s discussion, Frederick III decided that, in early April, he and the Empress would visit Britain, accompanied by Princess Victoria—the Queen’s most beloved granddaughter.
April twelfth would be Princess Victoria’s birthday.
Though Britain was a constitutional monarchy and the Queen held no real power, maintaining amicable relations with the royal family was nonetheless advantageous for Anglo-German relations.
“Before then, groundwork must be laid,” Feng Chengqian followed the Emperor’s lead, putting aside undue modesty. “Royal visits are important, but more crucial is to show genuine sincerity, to convince Britain that the Empire is a trustworthy ally and an indispensable player in the continental balance.”
“What do you propose?” Frederick III inquired.
“To avoid appearing as a latent threat to Britain, the only course is to focus on the army and revise our colonial policy.”
Bismarck’s brow twitched at this, for Feng Chengqian’s words implicitly criticized his colonial policy.
“We must realize that what Britain cannot tolerate is a maritime power, not a land power. Napoleon’s First French Empire nearly conquered the entire continent, but never crossed the Channel and was finally defeated at Waterloo. If the Empire seeks colonies overseas, we will inevitably need a powerful fleet, and thus become a direct threat to Britain—its primary adversary.”
“So you suggest we abandon the navy?” Frederick III asked, his brows knitted.
“Certainly not—this is but a temporary expedient,” Feng Chengqian replied after a brief pause. “Building a powerful fleet requires not just money, but time. Unfortunately, the Empire currently lacks both. To confront three great powers at once would be…”
“Count Feng speaks wisely; now is certainly not the time to antagonize Britain,” Moltke interjected.
Of course, Moltke’s intent was less to support Feng Chengqian than to use the moment to advocate for the army, lest the Emperor devote too many resources to the navy.
“If that is so, why not place the Count in charge of naval affairs?” Bismarck suggested.
At this, Frederick III glanced at Bismarck, while Feng Chengqian inwardly sighed. Clearly, Bismarck still viewed him as a rival.
“Count Feng is correct; we cannot afford to offend Britain, and must exercise restraint in our colonial policy—even suspend naval construction. However,” Bismarck said, looking at Feng Chengqian, “since this is merely a temporary expedient, the Empire cannot forgo naval development forever. Count Feng mentioned that building a fleet requires funds. While we may lack them now, we shall have them in the future. What we truly lack is time. Since Count Feng is so concerned for the navy, Your Majesty, why not appoint him to oversee naval affairs for the long term?”
Frederick III said nothing; it was clear Bismarck had ulterior motives.
Assigning Feng Chengqian to the navy was tantamount to sidelining him from army affairs.
Regardless of Frederick III’s priorities, the German Second Empire was a land power; the army’s importance always outweighed the navy’s.
In other words, Bismarck sought to confine Feng Chengqian to the periphery.
Outright opposition would only cause discord between monarch and minister, placing Frederick III in a difficult position.
“Your foresight is admirable, Chancellor. That is precisely my wish as well,” Feng Chengqian replied, unwilling to put the Emperor in a bind and having no desire to become Minister of War. “Your Majesty, I am of modest talent and limited ability, with much still to learn; I fear I am unfit for high office, so…”
“Since the Chancellor has spoken, so it shall be,” Frederick III exhaled deeply. “Count Feng remains Minister of War, responsible for planning the Imperial Navy’s development; army matters will be entrusted to the Chief Supply Officer. Next month, the Count will accompany me to Britain.”
“This…”
“My illness has only just abated, and may well recur. The Count should accompany me.”
Feng Chengqian nodded, saying no more. In truth, Frederick III had long since recovered; his health was better than that of most men.
“If there is nothing further, let us adjourn for today,” Frederick III said, rubbing his forehead—a gesture that signaled dismissal. “Count Feng, remain a moment.”
Bismarck and Moltke immediately rose and took their leave.
“What transpired today was not my intent. Your foundation at court is not yet solid; when the time is right, I shall arrange your advancement.”
“Your Majesty is overly concerned; this has always been my intention as well.”
“Your intention?” Frederick III frowned.
“Does Your Majesty recall what we discussed the night we first met?”
Frederick III nodded, then sighed.
“I have always believed that neither France nor Russia is truly to be feared. Even if we were to go to war with both at once, the Empire’s chances of victory exceed eighty percent. The real danger lies with Britain. If relations with Britain are not handled well, the Empire is doomed to a crushing defeat in the war thirty years hence.” Feng Chengqian paused, then continued, “Looking further ahead, as long as we refuse to submit, we are bound to come into conflict with Britain one day. When that time comes, what the Empire will need most is not the army, but a navy powerful enough to match our adversaries. ‘He who fails to plan for the future will be troubled by the present.’ Without long-term vision, the Empire’s downfall is inevitable. I do not speak to alarm Your Majesty, but within thirty years, war with Britain is certain.”
“So you believe naval development must be considered now?”
Feng Chengqian nodded. “Not only considered, but a long-term plan must be made.”
“In that case, you must accompany me to Britain,” Frederick III said with a smile. “You must see for yourself the mightiest navy on earth.”
Feng Chengqian smiled in return; he, too, wished to see with his own eyes what the British Empire in its prime truly looked like.
“Gustav has already arranged a residence for you. You may inspect it shortly; if anything displeases you, tell Gustav to have it changed.”
“I thank Your Majesty for your graciousness.”
“You are a chief minister of the Empire, and Count of Brandenburg; you ought to live well.”
“Then, with Your Majesty’s leave, I shall retire.”
Frederick III nodded, and only after Feng Chengqian had risen did he recline on the sofa and close his eyes.