The Shifting Sands of German Foreign Policy

In the years leading up to World War I, Germany’s approach to Balkan conflicts followed an unpredictable pattern. Where Berlin had previously cautioned Vienna against aggressive moves in the region, by 1914 the German government made the momentous decision to offer unconditional support to Austria-Hungary against Serbia and Russia. This dramatic policy shift raises crucial questions about Germany’s strategic thinking in the final years before the Great War.

International relations scholars might analyze this shift through the lens of defensive versus offensive realism. Defensive realism would suggest Germany aimed to preserve the status quo and maintain Austria-Hungary’s position as a great power, especially as the Berlin Congress system was collapsing and Balkan power structures were undergoing fundamental changes. Alternatively, offensive realism would interpret Germany’s policy as an attempt to reshape European alliances or pursue political and economic advantages in the Balkans.

The Chessboard of European Alliances

German Chancellor Bernhard von Bülow saw the Bosnian Crisis as a potential opportunity to disrupt the Entente between Russia, France, and Britain. By escalating a conflict involving Russian interests but not directly affecting French or British concerns, Germany could test alliance commitments. Austria-Hungary would reliably support Germany, while France and Britain would face difficult choices about whether to risk war for Russian Balkan interests. A Russian victory might extend its influence to the Mediterranean, creating new tensions with Western powers.

However, evidence suggests this wasn’t a predetermined strategy. Austrian Foreign Minister Alois Lexa von Aehrenthal had sought closer cooperation with Russia before the Bosnian Crisis. Germany found itself in an increasingly precarious position – its remaining allies were either unreliable or dragging it into conflicts that served no German interests.

Economic Imperatives and Railway Dreams

Historian Immanuel Geiss proposed an economic interpretation of Germany’s Balkan policy shift. The German government may have sought to connect German-Austrian rail networks with Turkish systems, particularly the Baghdad Railway project. German companies had secured oil extraction rights in Mesopotamia, and controlling Balkan routes could ensure uninterrupted land connections between Berlin and Baghdad, bypassing potential British naval blockades.

Yet this interpretation relies on concepts that only emerged during the war itself. In 1908, few could predict Turkey’s wartime stance or the effects of British naval blockades. Moreover, Germany didn’t necessarily need control of Serbia to secure rail routes – maintaining good relations with Bulgaria might have sufficed. Germany’s economic policies toward Serbia also contradict the aggressive interpretation: when Austria-Hungary banned Serbian pork imports in 1906, Germany quickly became Serbia’s new trading partner, and Berlin rejected Vienna’s demands to limit Serbian territorial gains after the Balkan Wars.

The Illusion of Grand Strategy

The evidence doesn’t support the notion of an offensive German Balkan policy. Berlin appeared to make decisions case-by-case rather than following some master plan. This ad hoc approach actually allowed Germany to cooperate with Britain in preventing escalation during the First Balkan War, raising the question of why this cooperation failed to prevent war in July 1914.

The False Calm of 1911-1914

The successful Anglo-German cooperation in containing the Balkan conflict created hope that future European crises could be similarly managed. The period from 1911 to 1914 appeared relatively calm, with alliance structures loosening and prospects for international cooperation improving. Only Russia seemed to buck this trend.

German and British leaders recognized the dangers of uncontrolled escalation. Chancellor Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg and British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey sought to balance their nations’ interests. While the 1912 Haldane Mission failed to resolve naval arms race tensions, the two powers reached agreements on colonial issues that could have formed a basis for broader cooperation.

The Military’s Growing Influence

Paradoxically, during this period of diplomatic thaw, preventive war theories gained traction in the German General Staff. Military planners became convinced that Germany must strike before 1916-17, when French military service extensions and Russian army expansion would make Germany’s two-front war strategy untenable.

This military thinking developed in isolation from political leadership, a structural problem stemming from Bismarck’s constitution and Wilhelm II’s governing style, which failed to subordinate military to civilian authority. As Anglo-German relations improved, some German strategists saw an opportunity for preventive war against France and Russia, calculating that British intervention would become less likely.

Two Competing Worldviews

By 1914, German decision-makers operated within two competing frameworks: cooperation versus confrontation. The cooperative approach required mutual trust and promised mutual benefits, while the confrontational view saw international relations as zero-sum competitions where only preparedness for war could secure a nation’s position.

These competing paradigms influenced leaders inconsistently. Bethmann Hollweg wasn’t purely cooperative, nor was Chief of Staff Helmuth von Moltke entirely confrontational. The cooperative model offered visions of prosperity and arms limitation, while the confrontational approach, rooted in social Darwinism, saw war as an inevitable selector of nations.

The Shadow of Social Darwinism

Social Darwinist thinking, then considered modern, deeply influenced European elites. In Germany, this intersected with historical narratives about the centuries-long struggle between Slavs and Germans for Central European dominance. Some German social Darwinists actually favored close Anglo-German cooperation, envisioning a “Teutonic empire” alliance including the U.S. that could dominate world affairs.

At the state level, the ancient “security dilemma” played out – nations could maximize gains through cooperation but risked exploitation if others acted in bad faith. Decision-makers had to balance these considerations without clear guidance, creating an environment ripe for miscalculation.

Warnings Unheeded

Visionaries across Europe warned against catastrophic continental war. In 1890, the legendary Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke (the Elder) cautioned the Reichstag about wars that could last decades, a stark reversal from his earlier glorification of war. SPD leader August Bebel predicted economic collapse and social revolution, while Friedrich Engels foresaw millions dead and crowns rolling in the streets. Polish banker Johann von Bloch and British journalist Norman Angell systematically analyzed war’s catastrophic economic consequences.

Yet general staffs clung to beliefs that technological advances would make wars shorter and more decisive. Military writers popularized visions of swift victories through overwhelming force, countering growing pacifist sentiment. Airships, not yet airplanes, symbolized this hope for quick, clean victories.

The German Militarism Question

While many historians emphasize German militarism’s role in causing WWI, quantitative comparisons don’t support this. Germany’s military spending (3.5% of GDP in 1913-14) trailed France’s 3.9% and Russia’s 4.6%. Conscription rates were lower than France’s, and army size smaller than Russia’s. What distinguished Germany was militarism’s social prestige, rooted in Prussia’s wars of unification.

Prussia’s ceremonial protocols reflected this – retired generals preceded clergy in processions, and even civilian ministers held military ranks. Bismarck’s famous cuirassier uniform symbolized this civil-military fusion. However, German society wasn’t uniformly militaristic – Rhinelanders resisted military culture, while the petite bourgeoisie embraced it most enthusiastically.

The Fractured Military Elite

The Prussian officer corps resisted full societal mobilization, fearing dilution of aristocratic dominance. War Minister Karl von Einem opposed arms racing precisely because it might democratize the military. This created tension between traditionalists wanting to preserve an elite force and modernizers like Erich Ludendorff, who advocated “total war” mobilization.

By 1914, German militarism had fractured into at least three competing visions, reflecting broader societal tensions rather than driving foreign policy. The iconic spiked helmet image hurt Germany’s image abroad, but didn’t reflect a unified warmongering impulse.

The Schlieffen Plan’s Strategic Straitjacket

The Schlieffen Plan, developed from 1905, aimed to win a two-front war by quickly defeating France before turning east. This reflected the general staff’s belief that only rapid victory could prevent catastrophic prolonged war. Ironically, the plan’s precision became its fatal flaw – it left no political flexibility when crisis came.

The plan rested on a fatal miscalculation: that Britain wouldn’t intervene. Since Germany’s 1871 unification, British leaders increasingly saw Germany as the primary threat to European balance. Invasion novels like “The Riddle of the Sands” reflected British anxieties, despite Germany having no actual invasion plans.

The Geopolitical Revolution

British geographer Halford Mackinder’s 1904 “Geographical Pivot of History” theory reshaped British strategy. His heartland theory suggested control of Eurasia’s core would determine global dominance, making Anglo-Russian rapprochement essential to contain Germany. This thinking underlay Britain’s 1907 entente with Russia, completing Germany’s perceived encirclement.

The July Crisis and Failed Diplomacy

In 1914’s critical days, Bethmann Hollweg’s apparent fatalism stemmed from the military’s stranglehold on options. The Schlieffen Plan’s irreversible mobilization timetable left no space for last-minute diplomacy. When Wilhelm II belatedly sought to redirect forces eastward on July 30, Moltke replied that the meticulously planned mobilization couldn’t be altered.

This moment revealed the tragedy of German decision-making – superb military planning had created a political straitjacket. As historian Gerhard Ritter noted, Germany’s militarism manifested not in bloodlust, but in letting general staff plans dictate political options. The result was a war nobody truly wanted, but which all felt compelled to fight.