believed in Vienna to be at risk. For its part, Russia felt compelled to assert its weight
in the 1914 crisis, having been shown up in 1909 over Bosnia to be an ineffective and
unreliable guardian of Slav interests. Germany both wanted war with its Franco-Russian
rivals (in order to prevent a further deterioration in its relative power position) and
was convinced, albeit with some reluctance, that it could not permit its deeply unloved
Austrian ally to be humiliated yet again, let alone defeated. If Austria were beaten
by Russia, or coerced into political retreat, Germany’s reputation would suffer major
damage. France went to war because it had no choice. Germany had only one war plan,
the so-called Schlieffen–Moltke Plan, and it mandated an all-out offensive against France
as its first stage. Even had German military moves not compelled both French and
Russian belligerency, the security of each required it to support the other if German
power were to be checked. In fact, the mobilizations of the great powers in 1914 were
more independent than interdependent, mythology to the contrary notwithstanding.
Both Russia and Germany decided to mobilize despite their ignorance of the other’s
moves. As for Britain, it believed that it must intervene lest Germany defeat France.
British security would be fatally undermined were Germany to eliminate France as a vital
element in Europe’s balance of power. Moreover, even should the Franco-Russian
Alliance defeat Germany and Austria-Hungary, Britain’s influence in European, and
hence world, affairs would be critically impaired for reason of its having stood aside.
To find the common theme, it is necessary to stand back from the details of each
country’s mixture of motives, and from the complex narrative of cascading events. It so
happens that the basic explanation of why war, a very great war, was launched in 1914
could hardly be simpler. Thucydides fingered the reason when he identified honour and
its powerful associates, fear and interest, as the principal motives driving war and, indeed,
all international political behaviour. Boldly stated, the great powers of Europe, without
exception (although one can argue about a French exclusion), decided to fight in order
to maintain, improve or prevent an anticipated decline in their relative standing in the
stakes of comparative power. Rephrased, each great power believed it had compelling
reasons of national security which afforded no reasonable choice other than the one it
made. They knew what they were doing. Irrespective of whether they stumbled into war
from a crisis slide that the diplomats were unable to discipline, given the contemporary
lore of international politics they had no prudent alternative but to fight.
What of the second myth, the belief that the Great War was an appalling exercise in
futility? The war proved to be neither ‘the war that will end war’ (Strachan, 2001: 1115),
as H. G. Wells had promised in 1914, nor even, more modestly, the war that would resolve
Europe’s German problem. Did the nightmare of 1939–45 mean that 1914–1 8 had been,
at best, futile; at worst responsible in its consequences for the carnage to come? This
futility myth cannot be demolished by a simple argument. Fundamentally, it is incorrect
because World War I did perform the duty, probably the sole duty, legitimate for war: it
was uniquely effective in solving a problem. The outcome of the war decided the pressing
issue of Germany’s relative power and influence in Europe. For a time, at least, the mili-
tary verdict of 191 8 meant that Germany would not dominate continental Europe. It is
true that Berlin did not issue its ‘blank cheque’ of support to Vienna in 1914 in the hope
of sparking a general conflict that would be the perfect vehicle for Germany to drive to
hegemony. But Germany did seek to enhance its standing among the powers, and it did
welcome war in 1914 as a necessary means to weaken or eliminate its rivals, Russia in
World War I: controversies 79