Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

In this way Balint’s name somehow kept on being mentioned at Jablanka, and often in Antal Szent-Gyorgyi’s hearing.

Only recently Lili had decided that the time had come to take more definite action. One day she talked to her cousin Magda and told her that she ought to lose no time in seeing that this year her beloved Peter Kollonich should be invited. Magda swallowed the bait and so was herself responsible for killing off Peter’s chances. Unwisely, not being a subtle or wise girl, Magda saw fit to ask her father outright and in this way Lili obtained what she wanted. Count Antal answered his daughter in his most icy manner, ‘I’m not asking any of our relations this year, except for Balint Abady!’

It was the memory of this that had made Lili blush, for she knew that she had knowingly prepared the trap for Magda and that, quite shamelessly, she had advised her to do the one thing which would annoy her father and stop any chance of Peter being asked to the shoot. For a moment or two Lili did not turn back to face Balint. Then an arm in formal evening dress stretched out between them and a voice said, ‘I beg your pardon!’

Lili and Balint both looked at the speaker. It was Count Slawata, who was just pushing a cream bun towards his mouth.

‘Oh, Servus — at your service,’ he said when he had quickly swallowed his mouthful and, with his short-sighted eyes peered at Abady and recognized him. Then he said, bowing to the girl, ‘I kiss your hand, Countess Lili. Please don’t think I’m always so greedy …’ and he reached for another titbit, ‘but Seine Hoheit — his Highness — has only just left.’

He was referring to the Archduke Franz-Ferdinand, whose confidential adviser he was, and who had ostentatiously left for Vienna the moment the King and Queen of Spain had taken their leave.

‘There were masses of telegrams to send and a lot of official reports; so I didn’t get any supper.’

‘Schwerer Dienst — very hard work!’ said Abady, with a hint of irony.

‘Not really. But interesting, you know, especially now. And especially today when we have got some results for once. Today is the third of October and success has crowned our efforts!’

Balint realized that Slawata was unusually happy and pleased with himself. His whole body radiated a sort of nervous, tense joyfulness. His round snub-nosed face seemed almost about to split, so tightly was his skin stretched across the chubby cheeks. His eyes flashed behind his thick-lensed glasses.

‘What was today’s great success?’

The adviser to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs had been waiting for just that question. With a theatrical movement he stepped back and pulled out a watch from his waistcoat pocket with studied slowness. ‘Here it is five minutes to midnight. In Paris it will be five to eleven and the leading article in tomorrow’s Le Temps will already be in the press. As soon as the paper is on the streets the whole world will know what has happened — so I am now free to tell you the news: it is that our ambassador in Paris today informed the President of the Republic of our annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina. At last we have been able to bring this about: it was effective from midday today!’

Something tightened in Balint’s throat. He remembered all at once that argument with Slawata a year before, in his bedroom at Jablanka, when the politician had talked about the need for a war. Now, as a thousand fears and questions crowded into Balint’s mind, the music started up again and people streamed from the buffet table back into the ballroom. Lili was whisked off to dance again and Balint found himself briefly separated from Slawata.

Standing alone by the buffet table Balint remembered that the Congress of Berlin had indeed given paper approval for the annexation, but no date had even been mentioned by any of the great powers. Furthermore it was implicitly accepted that Bosnia-Herzegovina, though until now still nominally a province of the Ottoman Empire, would never be handed back to Turkey. All Europe would have objected. It was therefore clear that, though it was one of the Congress’s official aims to uphold the integrity and sovereignty of the Ottoman Empire, no one thought of this as anything other than a face-saving formula not to be taken literally. Still, Turkish sovereignty had been guaranteed by international decree and could not lightly be discarded unless all the guaranteeing powers agreed. If the Ballplatz had not taken care to obtain such accord by undercover diplomatic negotiations, then Austria’s unilateral action might well be considered an unforgivable breach of internationally valid agreements and so, whether the annexation was justified or not, Austria would be vulnerable to attack which might lead to untold complications.

Dismayed by his own thoughts, Balint turned once again to Slawata and said, ‘But surely this could lead to trouble? Has the way been properly prepared? Diplomatically, I mean?’

‘I-wo! — sowas ist doch ganz unmöglich — that is quite impossible!’ replied Slawata unconcernedly; but then, seeing how worried his companion looked, he piled his plate high with galantine and foie-gras, and beckoned to Balint to follow him to a nearby sofa, saying, ‘ Komm, alter Freund, ich werde dir’s erklären. So ganz leichtsinning sind wir eben auch nicht! — come, old friend, and I will explain it all to you. We are not as irresponsible as all that!’

Slawata seemed now to take Balint into his confidence, apparently speaking quite openly and giving chapter and verse for each statement he made. On the question of diplomatic consultation he said that there would have been no point in asking the opinion of the subscribing powers in advance. This would only have led to lengthy discussions which at best would have had inconclusive results. Only two countries had any real interest in the matter: Russia, which was bound to oppose any extension of Austrian power; and Turkey, whose new government, unless faced with a fait accompli , could hardly be expected to agree to the loss of one of its own provinces.

On the other hand, he went on, if the annexation happened now, it would probably be accepted in Turkey as part of the payment to be made for the removal of the old order and the final elimination of the sins of the Sultan’s imperial policies. Since at the same time Austria was to restore to Turkey the control of the Sanjak of Novibazar, this could be advertised by the Porte as a triumph for the new leaders in Istanbul. There only remained the Russians. They had, to a certain extent, been prepared in advance. When the Russian foreign minister Izvolsky had called upon the ambassador Berchtold at Buchlau, his Austrian opposite number, Aehrenthal, had brought up the question of Bosnia-Herzegovina, stating that unless action was taken soon the new rulers of the Ottoman Empire would be bound by their constitution to insist that Bosnia send representatives to the Turkish parliament, which would not only be absurd but also unacceptable to all the signatory powers. Izvolsky had offered no objections to this argument, which could be taken as acquiescence even though no ‘protocol’ had been signed at the end of the meetings. Of course, no doubt both sides had made notes so that even if the Russian minister was taken by surprise by the timing of the annexation, he could hardly claim that he knew nothing about it! And in these circumstances there was little that England and France could do; after all, they could hardly pretend to be more Balkan than the Russians!

Berlin had not been informed either, for the simple reason that if one of the powers had been told then Italy would have to have been told too — and this was most undesirable as the news would swiftly be passed on to the Entente.