Chapter Forty-Eight: The Trumpet of War
The international conference concerning Morocco dragged on until early 1903. In the end, under the influence of Britain and Russia, the German Empire was compelled to accept a “neutral proposal” that favored France: the major powers acknowledged Morocco’s independence, but its police force would be controlled by France and Spain.
With no real alternative, the German Empire had to accept this outcome, which, though far from ideal, was not the worst possible result.
The Moroccan crisis thus came to an end, but its repercussions lingered long after. Both Germany and France had their flaws laid bare during the crisis.
For the German Empire, the most glaring issue was the inadequacy of its military mobilization system—the army’s mobilization speed was far too slow. At its root, this stemmed from Germany’s poor transportation infrastructure: the troops, scattered throughout the empire, could neither be brought together swiftly at a specific point nor could strategic supplies be concentrated quickly in any direction. This made it nearly impossible to launch military operations with speed.
On this point, Emperor Frederick III had a profound understanding. One must not forget that Emperor Frederick III had himself participated in the large-scale wars that brought about the empire’s unification. He was deeply familiar with the nature of war and possessed rich experience. Prussia’s victory at the Battle of Sedan had been decided by rapid maneuvering.
For the German Army, which constantly faced the threat of fighting on two fronts, highly developed mobility—especially strategic mobility—was not only the key to victory but also crucial for effective defense. Without the ability to shift forces quickly between fronts, the army could never hope for victory on any front and would inevitably be defeated in a two-front war.
It was this realization that transformed Schlieffen’s proposed "National Railway Construction Plan" into reality. At the end of 1902, after a detailed review of Schlieffen’s plan, the Emperor instructed Chancellor Caprivi to draft a comprehensive construction scheme.
Here, Feng Chengqian played a positive role, as he was a supporter of Schlieffen.
This matter also directly led to Waldersee’s resignation, for during the deliberations, Waldersee voiced opposition, believing the empire should focus on expanding its cavalry to enhance the army’s mobility, rather than investing heavily in railways.
In April 1903, Schlieffen was formally appointed Chief of the Imperial General Staff.
This appointment was crucial, for it was Schlieffen who would devise the detailed and meticulous strategic plan for the army’s next war—a plan that bore his own name and was intimately familiar to Feng Chengqian, the Schlieffen Plan.
As is well known, this was an offensive strategy, whose first principle was to defeat the main enemy through attack.
But Schlieffen was no genius who could conjure plans overnight; he needed time to ponder and weigh his options. It would be two years before he produced the strategic plan that would so directly shape the course of the First World War.
Moreover, Schlieffen’s appointment would have even greater ramifications.
In the eras of Moltke and Waldersee, the biggest problem for the German Army was the prospect of fighting on two fronts. Though both men believed in the offensive and thought victory could only be won by attacking, when faced with the Franco-Russian Alliance, they both chose strategic defense.
Moltke, while serving as Chief of Staff, had made it clear: the Empire must defend either on the Western or Eastern front, focusing on defense in the early stages of war. Waldersee, upon succeeding Moltke, improved upon this strategy and began constructing defensive lines on both fronts.
Would Schlieffen also put defense first?
In 1903, many believed that Schlieffen, who had served under Moltke, would do as Waldersee had and emphasize strategic defense.
Clearly, Feng Chengqian did not see it that way.
To Feng Chengqian, Schlieffen was a pure advocate of offense. He would certainly place the emphasis on attack and pin his hopes on a decisive strategic offensive—a lightning strike to swiftly crush the enemy in one direction, then shift forces to the other front.
In fact, Feng Chengqian himself supported a strategy of offense.
The reason was simple: the Empire’s enemies, taken together, vastly outmatched Germany in overall strength. If Germany adopted a defensive strategy, its army would be run ragged and ultimately lose a war of attrition. Only by quickly defeating one powerful foe could the Empire hope for victory.
Though Germany suffered a setback over the Moroccan issue, the gains were substantial. In a sense, it was precisely this crisis that made Schlieffen and other commanders recognize the army’s shortcomings, sparking a wave of military reforms. Over the next decade, the German Army would overcome its deficiencies, grow stronger, and stand an even better chance of defeating its adversaries.
For France, the problems were equally grave.
Through this crisis, the French military came to realize that their system was riddled with flaws: their mobilization was far slower than Germany’s; national fervor for war was weak; and the army’s overall combat effectiveness was inferior to that of the German Army.
In facing these challenges, France chose a different path—one of steadfast defense.
For France, this was the correct choice.
Since the fall of the Third French Empire, France had never truly recovered. Though more than thirty years of reconstruction had restored its national strength to pre-Sedan levels, in terms of confidence, morale, and fighting spirit, France—and especially its army—remained far behind Germany.
Clearly, France could not hope to defeat Germany alone. Its only path to victory in the next war was to unite with other great European powers, especially Russia to the east and Britain across the Channel.
Thus, the result was inevitable: France would not fight alone.
To put it simply, if France faced Germany alone, it was sure to lose; therefore, it would not launch a war without explicit support from Britain and Russia. Once supported by these allies, France’s objective would be to wear down the German Army’s fighting strength.
Clearly, a defensive strategy was the optimal choice.
The direct outcome of this was that, in June 1903, the French Parliament approved a national defense plan put forward by the Prime Minister’s cabinet. Over ten years and at a cost of four billion francs, a strategic defensive line would be constructed along the Franco-German border, stretching from the Ardennes Forest in the north to the Alps in the south.
According to the plan, once completed, this line would allow the French Army to hold off 120 German divisions with just 40 of its own.
In this way, even if France failed to complete mobilization in time, it could hold the border in the early days of war, gaining the time needed for full mobilization.
Given France’s willingness to spend so much on this defensive line, its military strategy was an open secret.
Obviously, this line would not only define France’s basic military strategy but also shape Germany’s. For instance, Schlieffen, when crafting his offensive plans, would have to take this line into account.
It is clear, then, that the Moroccan crisis had far-reaching consequences—many of which would not become apparent for more than a decade. As the Moroccan crisis ended, an even greater crisis was already unfolding: the political impact of the positions adopted by Europe’s great powers during the crisis.
Britain’s stance proved decisive in this affair.
It can be said that, even with Russia’s support, without Britain’s backing, France could never have obtained control over Morocco’s police force or gained any advantage. It was British support that finally forced the German Emperor to make concessions and acquiesce to France’s gains.
Feng Chengqian understood all too well that this crisis shattered the Emperor’s last illusions about Britain.
Previously, though the Emperor had always supported Feng Chengqian’s naval strategy and recognized the need to build a powerful navy, in many key strategic matters he still leaned toward Britain, seeking to maintain good relations and viewing Britain as Germany’s natural ally.
A few years before, the Emperor had even dreamed of allying with Britain to counter the Franco-Russian Alliance.
Clearly, the Emperor’s view was unrealistic. The Moroccan crisis forced him to see Britain’s true nature and realize that Britain could not be relied upon. For the sake of national interests, George V would certainly not be swayed by his brother-in-law, Frederick III.
It is far better to recognize Britain’s true nature sooner rather than later.
At the end of 1903, with the Emperor’s support, Feng Chengqian’s proposal for the Imperial Navy’s third five-year shipbuilding plan won majority approval in the cabinet.
According to his plan, between 1904 and 1908, the Empire would build two battleships or battlecruisers per year, raising the number of capital ships to twenty by 1910—including sixteen battleships and four battlecruisers. In addition, the ships “Emperor Frederick,” “Emperor William,” “Crown Prince William,” “Prince Charles,” and “Empress Augusta” would undergo their first modernization: installation of small-tube boilers and steam turbines to bring their performance up to the standards of the new warships.
If the first two five-year plans had been somewhat discreet, the third was launched with great fanfare. To put it bluntly, this plan sounded the opening bell of the naval arms race—a formal challenge to Britain.
Feng Chengqian no longer tried to hide his intentions or act with discretion. Besides, with the Emperor’s mind made up, even if he opposed the plan, his objections would carry little weight. Given his position and everything he had accomplished over the past decade, he had no reason to object, being the Navy’s most ardent supporter himself.
With Europe’s situation having reached this stage, a general war was now inevitable.
All that remained was for the main actors in this storm—soon to sweep across Europe and even the world—to finish their final preparations.