Greece and the Allies 1914-1922 Part 20

In general, it is true, the plotting and intriguing which permeated the country were too fatuous to be dangerous. But every now and then they took on formidable shape. In November, 1919, a carefully organized military conspiracy at Athens only miscarried through the indiscretion of a trusty but tipsy sergeant. Among the letters intercepted and produced at the trial was one from a Royalist exile in Italy to another at home. The writer, a lady, reported her brother as wondering how anybody in Greece could fail to understand that there no longer existed such things as a Government and an Opposition, but only tyrants and tyrannized over, who worked, the former to maintain their arbitrary authority, the latter to shake it off and recover their liberty. The work of neither could, in the nature of things, be carried on according to any const.i.tutional rule or law. He went on to argue that, under such conditions, deeds which would otherwise be crimes were justified and even glorified by history as unavoidable fulfilments of a patriotic duty: force must be met by force.[9]

So the national demoralization inaugurated by foreign pressure went on being promoted by domestic tyranny; and of cure there was no hope. Good men would not a.s.sociate themselves with the Venizelist regime, because it was bad; and even men by no means notorious for goodness shunned it, not because it was bad, but because they were shrewd enough to perceive it was too bad to last.

[1] For the full text of the Speech, see The Hesperia, 10 Aug., 1917.

[2] The Morning Post, 9 Aug., 1917.

[3] Speech from the Throne.

[4] It also brought to light doc.u.ments of real historic value, such as the dispatches included in the White Book (Nos. 70 foll.).

[5] Rapport officiel de la Commission mixte des indemnites, Paris, 1919.

[6] Jonnart, p. 183: "A clean sweep in Greece."-The Daily Chronicle, 2 July, 1917-an outline of M. Venizelos's programme.

[7] There have been usurpers, like Oliver Cromwell, who managed to temper tyranny with probity; but their cases are exceptional and their success only a matter of degree.

[8] An article of this kind was found in his house after the fighting of 2 Dec., 1916.

[9] The Hestia, 27 Dec. (O.S.), 1919.

{217}

CHAPTER XXI

The Liberal regime, having few roots in the soil and those rotten, could not but be ephemeral, unless the external force that had planted continued to uphold it: in which case M. Venizelos might have lived to weep over the triumph of his cause and the ruin of his country. This contingency, however, was eliminated in advance by the clashing ambitions of the Allies-the real guarantee of Greek independence. Foreign interference, made possible by the War, had to cease with it. And that was not all. M. Ribot, on 16 July, 1917, had declared in the French Senate that the changes brought about in Greece would have to be ratified by a Greek National a.s.sembly. M. Venizelos also had, as we saw, stated on his advent that the 1915 Chamber was but a temporary solution: that in due time a Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly would be elected to settle matters-a statement which he repeated shortly afterwards in Parliament: "The representatives of the Nation," he said, "watch with perfect calmness the internal evolution of the political life of the country and wait for the removal of the obstacles which do not permit the immediate convocation of the National a.s.sembly that will lay definitely the basis of the State."

After nearly three years of "internal evolution," the time for the redemption of these pledges seemed to the people overdue. In vain did M. Venizelos endeavour to put off the day of trial by arguing that it was advisable to avoid the agitation inseparable from an election whilst Greece was still at war with Turkey, and by promising that the elections would follow close upon the signature of peace. It was natural that he should adopt this course: he could not but hope that the fruits of his foreign policy-fruits never even dreamt of a few years before-would reconcile the people to his domestic administration. It was equally natural that the people should be impatient: {218} Turkey may not sign peace for ages, they protested; meanwhile are we to go on living under martial law? They demanded the dissolution of the illegal and, at best, long superannuated Chamber, and fresh elections. The call for freedom grew louder, more insistent, more imperious and dangerous, until M. Venizelos took a first tentative step towards a return to normality.

On 6 May, 1920-the day of the publication of the Turkish Peace terms granted by the Allies at San Remo-a Royal Decree was issued at Athens abolishing martial law. As at a signal, the Press turned its search-lights on the inroads made into the Const.i.tution. Abuses and excesses. .h.i.therto held back by the Censorship gained publicity. Political groups started organizing themselves for the electoral contest, with every grievance of the past as an incitement to action in the future. Most disturbing manifestation of all-though one that might have been foretold-streets and taverns resounded again with the song in which King Constantine was referred to as "The Son of the Eagle" leading his army to glory. Evidently the efforts to root up loyalism had not succeeded: far from it.

While M. Venizelos grew less by his elevation, King Constantine was raised by his humiliation to a condition, if not actually divine, half-way towards divinity. In many a house his portrait stood among the holy icons, with a light burning before it, and the peasants worshipped it much as their pagan ancestors would have done. It was but the culmination of a process long at work-a process in which the historical element was strangely mingled with the mythical.[1] Since the Balkan Wars, King Constantine had been identified in the peasant mind with the last Byzantine Basileus-his namesake, Constantine Palaeologus, slain by the Turks in 1453; who, according to a widely believed legend, lay in an enchanted sleep waiting for the hour when he should wake, break with his sword the chains of slavery, and replant the cross {219} on the dome of Saint Sophia. This singular fancy-whether a case of resurrection or of reincarnation, is not clear-was strengthened by the fact that his fall occurred on the very anniversary (29 May/11 June) of the day on which that unfortunate Emperor fell in the ramparts of Constantinople. The coincidence completed the a.s.sociation between the monarch who sacrificed his life to save his people from subjection and the monarch who, after leading his army in two victorious campaigns and doubling the extent of his country, did not hesitate to sacrifice his crown to save his people from disaster. Henceforth, even in minds not p.r.o.ne to superst.i.tion, the two events were linked by the same date, the mourning for the one rekindled the memory of the other, and King Constantine acquired a new and imperishable t.i.tle to the grat.i.tude of the nation. If all the efforts made in the past to blast his glory or to belittle his services had only heightened his popularity, all the efforts made since to blot out his image could only engrave it still deeper on the hearts of the people. His very exile was interpreted, symbolically, as the enchanted sleep whence he would arise to fulfil the ancient prophecies.

Mysticism apart, during the sad period preceding his departure, the affection of the ma.s.ses for their sovereign, intensified by compa.s.sion, had a.s.sumed the quality of veneration. Now that he was gone, they brooded over the wrongs which had driven him, a lawful and popular king, into exile: wrongs which suffered for their sakes enhanced his claims on their loyalty. They remembered wistfully the splendour of his victories, his manly courage, his saintly patience, and perhaps most of all his unfailing kindness to the humble and the weak. This was the quality which drew men most strongly to Constantine, and the absence of which repelled them most from M. Venizelos.[2] The experience of the last three years had helped to emphasize the contrast: when the Eagle's Son was up above, there were few vultures in the land; now there were vultures only. So the name of Constantine became a synonym for orderly government, loyalty to his person was identified with the principle of liberty, and the people who had never regarded Alexander as anything more than {220} a regent, who cried after the departing monarch from the sh.o.r.e at Oropus: "You shall come back to us soon," hailed the return to normality as presaging the return of the legitimate sovereign as well as of a legal Const.i.tution.

This, however, was the very last thing the powers that were contemplated even as a remote potentiality. For them the monarch in exile was dead; and the sooner his memory was buried the better. Accordingly, a police circular, issued on 26 May, prohibited conversations favourable to the ex-king, pictures of the ex-king, songs in honour of the ex-king, cheers for the ex-king. And, these regulations having been found insufficient to curb royalist fervour, five days later M. Venizelos demanded and obtained from Parliament the re-establishment of martial law, on the ground that "talk about the return of the ex-king was calculated to excite public feeling; and then the Opposition might have cause to blame the Government for not respecting the freedom of elections." The question of the ex-king, he argued, was utterly irrelevant to the forthcoming contest: the people would not be called upon to elect a Const.i.tuent, but merely a Revisionist a.s.sembly: "Who has said there is to be a Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly?" he asked.

The answer, of course, was easy: he himself had said so, on his installation in 1917. But lapses of memory are permissible to statesmen who mean business. M. Venizelos wanted a National a.s.sembly which would have powers to ratify the dethronement of the King, the suspension of the irremovability of judges, and all other revolutionary illegalities, besides perhaps altering fundamental articles of the Const.i.tution-such as the right of the Crown to appoint and dismiss Ministers and to dissolve Parliaments-powers which essentially belong to a Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly. But he wanted it to be merely Revisionist. The paradox made havoc of his logic; but it no way affected his purpose; which was that, while as Const.i.tuent in its nature the a.s.sembly should effect any alterations in the government of the country that he desired, as Revisionist in name it would not be competent to discuss the restoration of the King, and, if it proved recalcitrant, would be subject to dissolution by the {221} executive. Consistency and M. Venizelos had been divorced long ago, and the decree was now to be made absolute.

While these eccentricities prevailed at home, abroad the gamester-spirit of the Cretan scored its crowning triumph. By the Treaty of Sevres (10 Aug., 1920), which embodied the territorial arrangements already made at San Remo, Greece obtained practically the whole of Thrace outside the enclave of Constantinople, and a mandate over Smyrna and its hinterland. No doubt, this enormous extension of the kingdom, though still largely problematical, appealed to that compound of idealism and greed (mostly greed) which const.i.tutes h.e.l.lenic, as it does all other, Imperialism. But it did not fully compensate for the suppression of popular liberties within its frontiers. Except among the followers of M. Venizelos the national aggrandis.e.m.e.nt evoked but little enthusiasm: "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" wrote one of the Opposition leaders, voicing a widespread sentiment-a sentiment which, only two days after the publication of the Treaty (12 Aug.), found sinister expression. As he was about to leave Paris, M. Venizelos was shot at and slightly wounded by two Greek ex-officers. The a.s.sailants, on being arrested, declared that their object had been "to free Greece from its oppressor and to ensure freedom for their fellow-citizens." [3]

The Paris outrage had a sequel at Athens, as significant and more tragic. The followers of M. Venizelos, like those of King Constantine, included a set of fanatics who preached that the salvation of the country demanded the extirpation of their adversaries. To these zealots the moment seemed propitious for putting their doctrine into practice. "h.e.l.lenes!" cried one of their journals, "our great Chief, our great patriot, the man who has made Greece great and prosperous, the man who has made us proud to be called Greeks, has been murdered by the instruments of the ex-King. h.e.l.lenes, rise up all of you, and drive the murderers out of the fatherland." The h.e.l.lenes in general remained unmoved. But some gangs of hooligans did rise up (13 Aug.) and, under the eyes of the police and the gendarmerie, wrecked a number of Royalist newspaper {222} offices, clubs, cafes, and sacked the houses of four prominent anti-Venizelist statesmen. The authorities, on their side, had a dozen leaders of Opposition groups thrown into prison and, pending their conviction, M. Repoulis, a Minister who in the absence of M. Venizelos acted as his Deputy, declared that the attempt on the Premier formed part of a plot long-planned for the overthrow of the regime: it had failed, but the heads of the culprits would fall without fail. In fact, one of the Opposition leaders-Ion Dragoumis, son of the ex-Premier of that name-was a.s.sa.s.sinated by the Cretan guards who had arrested him. The others, after being kept in solitary confinement for twenty-four days, had to be released for want of any incriminating evidence.

M. Venizelos in Paris, when he heard of the riots, was reported as being beside himself with righteous indignation; and he sent a strongly-worded telegram to the Government, expressing the fear that part of the responsibility for the disorders rested upon its organs, and a.s.suring it that he should exact full account from everyone concerned.[4] But when he returned home he publicly embraced M. Repoulis, who explained in the Chamber to the entire satisfaction of his Chief that the Government had been overawed and very nearly overthrown by the extremists in its own ranks (8 Sept.).

Everything that could be done-short of a ma.s.sacre-to disorganize and to intimidate the Opposition having been done, martial law was suspended (7 Sept.), and the question of Elections began to engage M. Venizelos's attention seriously. It was a trial which involved his political life or death, and therefore required the utmost care and vigilance: one ill-considered step, one omission on his part might send him to his doom.

He began with the enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of Thrace (9 Sept.). This province, still under military occupation and martial law, was to vote: further, a political frontier was erected between it and the rest of Greece, which only those possessing a special pa.s.s could cross, whilst a rigorous censorship kept all anti-Venizelist newspapers out of it; and, lastly, it was enacted, for the benefit of an electorate alien in its majority and unable to read or write Greek, that the {223} Thracian votes, contrary to the general rule, should be polled by ballot paper, instead of by a ball.

Another Bill enabled the army on active service, for the first time in the history of Greece, to partic.i.p.ate in elections, the a.s.sumption being that among the soldiers Venizelist feeling predominated, or that, at all events, they would be controlled by their officers.

As exceptional importance has always attached to the district and city of Athens-"which," M. Venizelos said, "symbolizes the very soul of the country," [5]-it was inc.u.mbent upon him to pay special attention to this area. The difficulty was that the actual population was notoriously unsympathetic. M. Venizelos hastened to overcome this difficulty by three strokes of the pen: 18,000 refugees from all parts who lived on the Ministry of Public Relief were enrolled as Athenian citizens; to these were added some 6,000 Cretan gendarmes and policemen; and, to make up the deficiency, 15,000 natives of Smyrna, supposed to have earned Greek citizenship by volunteering in the war, had their names inscribed on the electoral lists of Attica.

There followed promises and warnings. On the one hand, the people were promised fresh labour legislation, the conversion of the great landed estates into small holdings, and public works on a large scale. On the other hand, they were warned that an adverse vote from them would have disastrous consequences for the country: Greece had been aggrandized by the Allies for the sake of M. Venizelos; if she discarded him, she would forfeit their goodwill and her territorial acquisitions. But M. Venizelos and his partisans did not trust altogether to the practical sense and the Imperialist sensibilities of the people.

For months past the extremists among his followers openly threatened that, if by any mishap Venizelos did not win the day after all, they would make a coup d'etat and strike terror into the hearts of their adversaries. This threat, which primarily presented itself as an extravagance of irresponsible fanaticism, was on 7 September officially espoused by M. Venizelos, who declared in Parliament that, should perchance his adversaries obtain a majority in the new a.s.sembly, and should that a.s.sembly decide {224} to convoke a Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly, and should this Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly invite King Constantine back, the "Reaction" would find itself confronted with the hostility of a large political party which had become the mortal enemy of the ex-king; and he went on to foreshadow a fresh schism in the army: that is, civil war. Encouraged by so solemn a sanction, Venizelist candidates-notably at Tyrnavo in Thessaly and Dervenion in Argolis-told their const.i.tuents without any circ.u.mlocution that, in the event of a defeat at the polls, the Government would not surrender its power, but would maintain it through the Army of National Defence, which was pledged to a new Revolution: the Parliamentary system would cease to function even in name, and many a malignant would swing.

These appeals to the sovereign people, published in the Royalist and not contradicted by the Venizelist Press, will doubtless seem startling for a Government whose mission was to establish democratic liberties. But they were justified by necessity. M. Venizelos and his partisans could not afford to be very fastidious: their political existence was at stake: they must make every effort, and summon every resource at their command. Anyone who was in Athens at that time and saw the Cretan guards, often with the Premier's photograph pinned on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a.s.sault such citizens as displayed the olive-twig (emblem of the Opposition), or saw the gendarmes, who patrolled the streets with fixed bayonets, protect the excesses of Venizelist bravoes, would appreciate how far the Government was prepared to stoop in order to survive.

In the midst of these electoral activities, King Alexander died-of blood poisoning caused by the bite of a pet monkey. Alive he had neither exercised nor been wanted to exercise any influence over the destinies of his country: he had simply played the part required by the cast in which a whimsical fortune had placed him. His death proved of more importance, inasmuch as it forced the question of the throne upon M. Venizelos irresistibly: the vacancy had to be filled. Anxious to perpetuate the comedy, M. Venizelos sought a successor in a still younger and less-experienced scion of the dynasty: Prince Paul, a lad in his teens, who refused the offer on the ground that, until his father and his eldest brother renounced their rights, {225} he could not lawfully ascend the throne. After threatening to change the dynasty rather than admit any discussion on the restoration of King Constantine, M. Venizelos, by one of those swift turns characteristic of him, suddenly made that restoration the main issue of the Elections. He challenged the Opposition to this test of the real wishes of the Greek people. The Greek people, he said, should be given the chance of deciding whether it will have Constantine back; and if it so decided, he himself would go.

The Opposition, which consisted of no fewer than sixteen different groups united only by a common desire to get rid of the Cretan Dictator, would fain decline the challenge. Some of the leaders were ardent Royalists; others were very lukewarm ones; and others still could hardly be described as Royalists at all. Generally speaking, the politicians out of office had found in the cause of Constantine a national badge for a party feud. Moreover, they realized that the question of Constantine possessed an international as well as a national aspect, and they did not wish to compromise the future of Greece and their own; which would have been nothing else than stepping into the very pit M. Venizelos had dug for them. But neither could they repudiate Constantine without losing popular support: to the Greek people the main issue of the fight was indeed what M. Venizelos made it.

At length the day of trial arrived: a Sunday (14 Nov.)-a day of leisure in a land of universal suffrage. From an early hour people of all cla.s.ses thronged the polling-stations quietly. They had clamoured for a chance of expressing their sentiments; yet now that the chance had come, they took it with an extraordinary composure. Even to the most expert eye the electors' demeanour gave no indication of their sentiments: the olive-twig had very curiously withered out of sight. Nor did the behaviour of the voters in the last three years afford any clue to the use they would make of their present opportunity. Greeks are past masters of simulation and dissimulation. Openly some might have pretended friendship to the Venizelist regime from hopes of favour, others again dissembled hostility through fear; but the voting was secret.

Both Government and Opposition shared the suspense, {226} though the Government antic.i.p.ated an overwhelming majority;[6] which was natural enough, since all the advantage seemed on its side.

Presently the votes were counted-and "it was officially announced that the Government had been mistaken in its antic.i.p.ations." The magnitude of the mistake appeared on the publication of the figures: 250 seats to 118: the Royalists had swept the polls, to the astonishment of all parties, including their own.[7] The very men who had fought at the bidding of M. Venizelos had p.r.o.nounced themselves against him: having fulfilled their duty as soldiers, they vindicated their right to live as free citizens. His own const.i.tuency had rejected him. And would the rout stop there? Among the millions who had submitted to his rule with sullen irritation there were many whose hearts swelled with rage, in whom old wounds rankled and festered: might not these men now have recourse to other weapons than the vote in order to get even with the bully?

For a moment M. Venizelos felt stupefied: the edifice that had seemed so solid was collapsing about him, and he was in danger of being buried under the ruins. Then he wisely stole out of the country he had done his best to aggrandize and to disintegrate.[8]

The result of the elections was virtually an invitation to King Constantine to return and resume his crown. But the King, not content with an indirect verdict, wanted an explicit plebiscite ad hoc, clear of all other issues. The Allies, after a conference in London, telegraphed (2 Dec.) {227} to M. Rallis, the new Greek Premier, that they "had no wish to interfere in the internal affairs of Greece, but they felt bound to declare publicly that the restoration of the throne to a king whose disloyal att.i.tude and conduct towards the Allies during the War caused them great embarra.s.sment and loss could only be regarded by them as a ratification by Greece of his hostile acts." [9] This message-yet another fruit of Franco-British compromise-was followed up (6 Dec.) by a second Note, enumerating the consequences, political and financial, of the Powers' displeasure. But it produced little effect: out of the 1,013,724 electors who took part in the plebiscite (7 Dec.), only 10,383 voted against the King.[10] M. Rallis, in acquainting him with the result, stated that he considered it tantamount to a formal request from the country to the Sovereign to come into his own again, and invited him to respond to the clearly expressed wish of the nation. Which King Constantine did, nothing loth.

Few of those who witnessed the event will ever forget it. On the eve of the King's return (18 Dec.) Athens could scarcely contain her emotion. All day long her beflagged streets rang with the cry: "Erchetai! Erchetai!" ("He is coming! He is coming!")-hardly anybody failed to utter it, and n.o.body dared to say "Then erchetai" ("He is not coming"), even if referring to an unpunctual friend. At night the song in which Constantine was alluded to as "The Son of the Eagle" echoed from one end of the illuminated city to the other. But this was only a preparation for next morning's welcome.

Owing to stress of weather the cruiser carrying the King and Queen of the h.e.l.lenes was compelled to put in at Corinth, where the exiles landed. From that point to the capital their journey was a triumphal progress. The train moved slowly between lines of peasants who, their hands linked, accompanied it, shouting: "We have wanted him! We have brought him back!" [3] When {228} the King stepped out at the station, officers fought a way to the carriage with blue and silver dressed postillions which waited for him and the Queen. He had to keep tossing from one hand to the other his baton, as men and women pressed upon him for a handshake. The carriage struggled forward, men and women clinging to its steps and running with it, trying to kiss the hands and feet of the royal pair, and baulked of this, kissing even the horses and the carriage itself. All the way dense ma.s.ses of people pressed round the carriage, shouting: "He has come!" or singing the chorus, "Again our King will draw the sword." An eye-witness had a vision of a soldier who, amid cries of "We will die for you, G.o.dfather!" clambered into the carriage head first and fell to kissing the knees of the King and Queen, while around people fainted and stretchers pressed through the crowd.[12]

And so the fight for the soul of Greece ended in a victory for Constantine.

The character of this prince has been painted in the most opposite colours, as must always be the case when a man becomes the object of fervent worship and bitter enmity. But the bare record of what he did and endured reveals him sufficiently. His qualities speak through his actions, so that he who runs may read. His most conspicuous defect was a want of suppleness-a certain rigidity of spirit which, when he succeeded, was called firmness, and when he failed, obstinacy. Yet the charge so often brought against him, that he allowed himself to be misled by evil counsellors, shows that this persistence in his own opinion did not spring from egoism nor was incompatible with deference to the opinions of others. It arose from a deep sense of responsibility: he stubbornly refused to deviate from his course when he believed that his duty to his country forbade deviation, and he readily laid down his crown when duty to his country dictated renunciation. For the rest, a man who never posed to his contemporaries may confidently leave his character to the judgment of posterity.

As for M. Venizelos, history will probably say of him {229} what it has said of Themistocles: Though he sincerely aimed at the aggrandizement of his country, and proved on some most critical occasions of great value to it, yet on the whole his intelligence was higher than his morality-a man of many talents and few principles, ready to employ the most tortuous and unscrupulous means, sometimes indeed for ends in themselves patriotic, but often merely for aggrandizing himself. By nature he was more fitted to rule in a despotic than to lead in a const.i.tutional State. Had he been born an emperor, his fertile genius might, unless betrayed by his restless ambition, have rendered his reign prosperous and his memory precious. As it is, in his career, with all its brilliance, posterity will find not so much a pattern to imitate as an example to deter.

[1] There is always so much of mystery surrounding the peasant mind, that its workings must often be accepted rather than understood. But those who wish to understand somewhat the psychological process which led in antiquity to the deification of kings during their life-time could not do better than study the cult of Constantine among the modern Greek peasantry.

[2] See Vice-Admiral Mark Kerr, in the Morning Post, 13 Dec., 1920.

[3] The Daily Mail, Aug. 13, 1920.

[4] Eleutheros Typos, 5/18 Aug., 1920.

[5] The New Europe, 29 March, 1917, p. 327.

[6] "Even if the Opposition sweeps the Peloponnese and gains a majority in Acarnania and Corfu, it is still doubtful whether it will have 120 seats in the new Chamber, which will contain 369 Deputies; and the Venizelists antic.i.p.ate that their opponents will emerge from the struggle with less than 100 Deputies."-The Times, 15 Nov., 1920.

[7] The Daily Mail; The Evening News, 16 Nov, 1920; Reuter, Athens, 15 Nov.: "Not a single Venizelist was returned for Macedonia and Old Greece, except in Epirus and Aegean Islands."

[8] We learn that his followers "urged upon him the advisability of a coup d'etat. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to carry out, and with so much at stake for Greece and for democratic principles generally, it seemed justifiable."-"M. Venizelos at Nice," in The Times, 29 Nov., 1920. But, "fears are entertained, it is said, that the regular Army-which is strongly anti-Venizelist-may get out of hand."-The Daily Mail, 17 Nov.

[9] The terms of the Note were communicated to the House of Commons by Mr. Bonar Law the same night.