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The Russian Origins of the First World War by Sean McMeekin

kelsey_fussell's review against another edition

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informative reflective medium-paced

3.75

oldmetalpossum's review against another edition

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3.0

As with any traumatic event in human history, much of the scholarly work following the First World War focused on which nation was to blame for the carnage that had been wrought upon Europe. While the war technically began with Austria-Hungary’s initial declaration of war on Serbia following Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s assassination in June 1914, the Versailles Treaty and its War Guilt clause would primarily pin Germany as the instigator of the war. The effects of this public denouncement of Germany as the main aggressor would have a significant impact on the course of European history, and while there is a complex web of reasons that would explain exactly why the First World War occurred when it did most scholarly opinion does tend to reiterate this idea. History, though, is rarely so simple, and in his book The Russian Origins of the First World War, historian Sean McMeekin argues that the role of the Russian Empire in provoking the war has been greatly understated. Citing a wealth of previously underutilized documents made available after the collapse of the Soviet Union and by highlighting the consistent imperialist aims of men like Russian foreign minister Sergei Sazonov, McMeekin reshapes the narrative concerning Russian involvement in the First World War. While imperial expansion remains at the core of theories ascertaining Germany’s guilt in starting the war and to a lesser extent France’s willingness to join in the fight, McMeekin’s book effectively argues that the same was true for Imperial Russia, though his work leaves some additional questions left to be answered.

Early on, McMeekin draws attention to the fact that Russia’s role in the First World War is often downplayed or misremembered. Acknowledging the difficulty of accessing archival materials due to both the difficulties of translation as well as Soviet reluctance to publish work on military history, McMeekin nonetheless posits the importance of Russian involvement in the war. In reference to the infamous Sykes-Picot agreement which essentially divvied up the post-war map of the Middle East between western powers, McMeekin notes that curious lack of attention paid to Russia’s involvement in dictating this policy, adding that to neglect this aspect is “like writing a history of the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991 without reference to American foreign policy (McMeekin 3).”

In discussing the strategic imperatives for Russia in 1914, particular emphasis is again given to Russia’s interests in the Ottoman Empire. Imperial Germany’s fear of encirclement by the Triple Entente has often been cited as a factor in its decision to go to war in 1914, and McMeekin illustrates how the Russian Empire had similar concerns in mind that guided their actions. Despite the postwar importance of the Sykes-Picot agreement, McMeekin notes that England and France were largely unconcerned by the various crises both in the Balkans as well as those poised by the predicted collapse of the Ottoman Empire: England already controlled the Suez Canal, and French investment in the Ottomans virtually assured their continued influence in the area.

In contrast to this, McMeekin looks to both the Balkans and the Ottoman Empire as the key areas of Russian interest leading up to 1914. The capture of Constantinople had long tantalized Russian leaders, and additionally by McMeekin’s estimate “the Russians had a better case than the Germans to complain of Einkreisung (McMeekin 13),” given its borders with at least five hostile or recently hostile nations. While Russia had expanded its frontiers into Russian Persia, these borders were destabilized by a variety of anti-Russian groups and Russian access to the Mediterranean ultimately relied on the whims of the Ottoman leaders.  In search of a solution to these problems, as early as 1910 Russian military leaders were looking to somehow capture Constantinople and the Dardanelles not only because of its historical significance but also to relieve the perceived encirclement and precarious strategic footing of the Russian Empire. McMeekin illustrates this with copious amounts of evidence from internal memorandums and records of meetings that illustrate just how crucial Russian leadership considered the acquisition of Constantinople to be. This is additionally supported via discussion of the 1914 conference in Petersburg allocating funds for an increased Black Sea Fleet specifically to aid in taking the Dardanelles from the Ottomans, another sign of just how precarious the Russian position was in 1914 and how that helped dictate their foreign policy. McMeekin dismisses the popular view that the Russians entered the war solely in support of Serbia by illustrating how Russian fears about access to the Mediterranean and stabilization of its border with the Ottoman Empire influenced Russian foreign policy mirrored German concerns.

While Russian military policy seemingly demanded some sort of effort to take Constantinople, men like Sazonov and Vladimir Sukhomlinov knew that such a task could not be achieved alone. This necessitates from McMeekin a stringent discussion of Sazonov’s actions during the July Crisis that are eye opening to say the least. Conventional narratives place emphasis on Germany’s blank cheque that fueled Austria-Hungary’s stiff ultimatum to Serbia and other elements that show how both nations exploited the July Crisis. In similar fashion McMeekin draws attention to the lack of documentation relating to both French President Henri Poincaré’s visit to Russia and the gaps in the dispatches of Maurice Paléologue during the height of the July Crisis. McMeekin lays out a solid case that the two nations worked to exploit the situation just as much as historians have claimed Germany did while not jumping to the conclusion that France and Russia effectively agreed to declare war the minute it was a viable option. This is supported in part by documentation of Sazonov’s political maneuvering, including his decision with Krivoshein to mobilize units not just near Serbia but also ones that would be able to move on Constantinople. McMeekin thus does away not just with the traditional narrative of Russia mobilizing to defend Russia, but also of the view of Russia as yet another nation drawn into the war due to the aggressive action taken by Germany and Austro-Hungary.

Russia had her allies once Germany had entered the fray, especially after the violation of Belgian neutrality, but McMeekin does not rely on the traditional narrative of Russia’s sacrifice and eventual downfall on behalf of its allies. McMeekin sets about destroying this popular understanding of Russia’s role in the war, noting that not only did Moltke barely weaken his western armies to face Russia’s initial advances but that from the start “the expectation in both Paris and Petersburg was that France would have to do the bulk of the heavy lifting against Germany (McMeekin 79),” with French envoys failing to even guarantee that Russia would primarily focus on attacking Germany. McMeekin’s analysis of Franco-Russian military agreements reorient the traditional understanding of the two nations’ relationship, stating that “Russia could basically do whatever it wanted,” while demonstrating effectively how the incredibly vague agreement allowed Russia much tactical freedom, ultimately resulting in the conclusion that “once the dust had settled on the early battles, Russia could then offer to fight on, or threaten to sign a separate peace with the Central Powers (McMeekin 80).” This superior leverage afforded to Russia becomes an effective tool in demonstrating just how active Russia was in the war rather than being the forgotten third party of the Triple Entente.

One of the strongest arguments in the book is that the ill-fated Gallipoli campaign came about largely because of this leverage, with Sazonov and his compatriots essentially utilizing their nation’s influence in Persia to push the British to essentially capture the Dardanelles “whether or not [Russia] contributed in any way (McMeekin 124).” Further strengthening his case is the examination of Russian involvement in Persia, an area of study hitherto largely unexamined due to lack of documentation. In every case McMeekin illustrates just how often Sazonov was able to guide the decisions of British and French foreign policy throughout the war in various theatres, undermining the traditional notion of Russian sacrifice for the greater allied cause and instead showing how it was often the case that Russia’s allies instead spent money and lives to further Russian imperial aims.

McMeekin’s arguments in all these cases cast Russia’s actions in a new light. This new analysis of Russian actions during the war provides context for some of the seemingly bizarre decisions made by the Triple Entente by revealing it to be outgrowths of Russian foreign policy. McMeekin’s analysis does raise further questions though. His attempts to split the blame for the Armenian genocide between the Ottomans and Russia might have been better served in its own chapter, though the lack of documents concerning the event might hamper that. Additionally, Turkish policy towards Russia is hardly discussed. While the Ottoman Empire was faltering, their maneuvering in the leadup to war might help to provide even more context for the events discussed in the book.

Ultimately though, these issues that might require more examination do not undermine the work as a whole. McMeekin’s insistence that Russian history between 1914 and 1917 not be categorized as merely a predecessor to the Bolshevik Revolution has merit, and The Russian Origins of the First World War effectively stakes out a strong case for the importance of a closer analysis of Russian history than is typically afforded.
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