In the late summer of 1915, as the Central Powers prepared to strike Serbia from two directions, Lloyd George led the fight in the Dardanelles Committee to send an expedition to the Balkans. He argued that it would not only prevent the defeat of an ally, but also entice the wavering Balkan states to join the Entente. Across the Channel, the French government was equally enthusiastic about assisting Serbia, seeing it as a way to expand France's interest in the Mediterranean. Kitchener, however, maintained that even if a sufficient force could be spared, and he saw no way that it could, it would not arrive in time to succor Serbia. But under pressure from the French government, the Dardanelles Committee agreed to send half of a 150,000-man contingent to Greece.
The catastrophe that befell the Dardanelles campaign in the spring and summer of 1915 should have made the British politicians wary about leaping into a new adventure without examining the potential pitfalls, defining the objectives, and adopting a sound plan. It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was one of the worst strategic mistakes made by the British authorities during the war. The number of Allied troops would eventually swell to over 600,000 and include five nationalities – Russian, Serbian and Italian in addition to French and British.
The maneuver to save Serbia having failed, logic dictated that the Allies liquidate that disastrous venture, but Lloyd George joined hands with the French to thwart every effort. His self-assurance and forensic skill were such that he could make a ludicrous position seem plausible to the uninformed. He castigated Kitchener, who had been reluctant to agree to the expedition in the first place, for failing to take action earlier to help Serbia, conveniently ignoring the fact that he lacked the resources to do so.
This was not the first, nor would it be the last, time that Lloyd George would escape the consequences of his misjudgment by throwing the blame on someone else. Kitchener, who had a difficult time expressing himself, could easily be outmaneuvered in debate. The effect of Lloyd George's relentless attacks in the councils of war and intrigues outside, combined with Allied military reverses on the Western Front and elsewhere, seriously undermined Kitchener's credibility with his colleagues. In December 1915 Sir William Robertson was brought back from France as the new chief of the Imperial General Staff and given additional powers, making him independent from the secretary of war and the sole adviser to the government on military matters.
Another issue that absorbed Lloyd George's attention in 1915–1916 was conscription, over which the cabinet was split, mainly, but not entirely, on party lines. The vast majority of Liberals opposed a system of national military service on the grounds that it was contrary to democratic principles. The Conservatives, almost to a man, saw it as the only effective and fair way to meet the needs of the Army and the economy, and they were soon joined by Lloyd George. Over the next six months Asquith took a series of half-measures, including the drafting of bachelors, to appease the pro-conscription ministers and save his government. Matters came to a head in April 1916 when the British Army's requirements for more men could be met only by extending conscription to married men as well. Lloyd George took the line that general conscription was necessary and that Asquith ought to be resolute in leading the way. Pushed hard by Lloyd George and the Conservatives, Asquith gave in lest his coalition break up. In May 1916 a bill cleared Parliament, extending compulsion to all British subjects between the ages of 18 and 41, married as well as single. Labor accepted the bill grudgingly for to have done otherwise would have furnished proof to the world that Britain was not united in its determination to see the war through.
In late spring, there was a dramatic shift in the political landscape. On 5 June Kitchener met a tragic death when the cruiser HMS Hampshire, on which he was traveling to Russia, hit a mine in stormy seas and went down off the Orkneys. Asquith weighed the claims of several Conservatives before offering the vacant post to Lloyd George. When strategic control passed to the CIGS at the close of 1915, the office of secretary for war became little more than a gilded cage, as Lloyd George well knew, with its duties confined mainly to army recruiting and departmental administration. Lloyd George, who had done so much to whittle down Kitchener's authority, was prepared to move to the War Office on condition that the original powers of the secretary for war were restored. As he had no confidence in either the tactics or strategy of the High Command, he wanted to be able to formulate military policy.
But Robertson, backed by Asquith, would not consent to any changes that would rob him of his right to control strategy and act as chief adviser to the government on military matters. Still, Lloyd George may have felt that he could do no more at Munitions, and the War Office was ostensibly a promotion.
Besides, the Army was about to launch an offensive at the Somme which, if successful, would enable him to reap much of the credit. After weighing the pros and cons for a week, he accepted the post of secretary of war on the same restricted terms that had been imposed on Kitchener. Lloyd George spent five unproductive months at the War Office where he chafed at his inability to outwit Robertson and change the direction of the war. Robertson and the generals believed that the war could only be won by defeating the main German army in the west. Lloyd George, on the other hand, considered it sheer folly to continue with costly assaults in France that accomplished nothing. His prescription was to strike Austria, the most vulnerable flank of the Central Powers, and isolate Germany. Clashes between Lloyd George and Robertson were therefore inevitable. Robertson could not match Lloyd George as a debater, but he was at least his equal in the arts of black politics. Time and time again he was able to neutralize Lloyd George's political maneuverings. Robertson was not only skilful in using the press, but, in case of an impasse with his adversary, he could also count on the support of the prime minister and the cabinet.
In September Lloyd George received an unpleasant reminder of what it was like to challenge the British High Command's military policy. During a trip to France he invited one of its leading generals, Ferdinand Foch, to criticize Haig's methods, but Foch had refused to do so. Word of the conversation was leaked to the Morning Post, which hammered Lloyd George for his lack of patriotism and warned him of the consequences if he did not mend his ways. To make matters worse, the battle at the Somme turned out to be a bloody failure, and, since this had occurred on his watch, he could not avoid taking some responsibility.
If Lloyd George was at variance with the generals over the direction of the war, he gave every sign in public that he was united with them in his determination to win it. On 26 September he gave his so-called “knock-out” interview to Roy Howard, an American reporter, in a bid to throw cold water on President Wilson's anticipated peace initiative. It was reproduced in the Times next day. Lloyd George essentially made public, admittedly in an undiplomatic tone, the cabinet's policy, which was to discourage American mediation for a negotiated peace. He insisted that “the fight must be to the finish – to a knock-out,” however long and whatever the cost, and he warned that Britain would not tolerate the intervention of any state, including neutrals with the highest purposes and the best of motives.
Lloyd George's unhappiness at the War Office deepened in the autumn of 1916. The war was going badly for the Allies and his efforts to circumvent the obstructionism of the CIGS and the generals had failed. He could see no ray of light ahead. Pondering on how to achieve greater civilian control of the generals, he could think of no other way than to remove the higher conduct of the war from Asquith's hands. As David Woodward, a leading authority on the period has observed, “it was Robertson and the military policy he represented – not Asquith – whom Lloyd George hoped to overthrow.” Lloyd George admired Asquith's intellectual qualities, his skills as a parliamentarian, and the resourcefulness that he had shown as prime minister in times of peace. Indeed, during the prewar era Lloyd George had acted as a creative spark for the Liberal social program and someone on whom Asquith could depend, and the two, however different temperamentally, had formed a very effective team. But tensions in their relationship began to appear in the summer of 1915 owing to their differences over conscription. In the months that followed, the gap between the two became more acute as Lloyd George grew increasingly disillusioned with, and critical of, Asquith's inefficient and leisurely management of the war. Not only did Asquith defer to his generals, he insisted on preserving the cabinet's executive authority. This meant that all major rulings in the War Council and its successors the Dardanelles Committee and the War Committee, were referred to the full cabinet, where too often issues which provoked disagreement were shelved rather than decided on one way or another.
Lloyd George and CIGS Robertson
As Lloyd George put more and more distance between himself and Asquith, he forged new links with a number of prominent Unionists. As a group, the Conservatives also wanted greater efficiency and speed in decision-making. They distrusted Lloyd George, however, regarding him as a Welsh radical who in previous years had been a fierce critic of the Boer War. Still they were impressed by his driving force and by his determined approach to waging war, regardless of infringements on individual liberty. In the final analysis they saw Lloyd George as a lesser evil than Asquith.
The press joined restive Conservatives to clamor for reform of the executive. The Morning Post summed up the frustration felt by many with Asquith's ministry when it wrote on 1 December 1916: “Nothing is foreseen, every decision is postponed. The war is not really directed – it directs itself.” There were demands that Asquith be replaced as prime minister by Lloyd George, who seemed better fitted to play the part of a war leader. In short, the country as a whole wanted a change, a livelier organizer of victory, a new Pitt.
On 1 December 1916 Lloyd George, with Bonar Law's backing, presented Asquith with a plan that would reconstruct the system for prosecuting the war. This involved delegating executive authority to a small committee consisting of three or four ministers free of departmental responsibilities and under the chairmanship of Lloyd George. Asquith would be excluded from the new body but would remain prime minister. After some modification, Asquith accepted the arrangement. On 4 December, however, a leading article in the Times attacked Asquith personally and implied that he had been reduced to a subordinate position in his own cabinet. The piece was clearly written by someone with good inside information. It appears that Carson was the informant but Asquith suspected Lloyd George, who was known to have friendly relations with Lord Northcliffe, owner of the Times
His pride injured, Asquith repudiated his earlier agreement with Lloyd George, determined to fight. Lloyd George's response was to resign. Asquith could have weathered Lloyd George's defection but confronted by the loss of all, or nearly all, of the Conservatives in the cabinet, he had no option but to resign.
The king immediately sent for Bonar Law, the most obvious choice to succeed Asquith. Bonar Law declined the offer when Asquith made it clear that he would not serve under him. Thereupon the king turned to Lloyd George and invited him to form a government. Lloyd George accepted and from 7–9 December garnered enough support from Conservatives, Labour, and Liberal sympathizers to form a government. His longstanding ambition to succeed Asquith had been achieved, not so much by intrigue as by accident.
Seizing the Reins
Lloyd George was 54 years old when he moved to 10 Downing Street in December 1916. His accession to power reflected the nation's repudiation of Asquith's “wait and see policy” and a desire for a more ruthless and forceful prosecution of the war. The country as a whole counted on him to break through the inertia of the previous administration and turn the tide in 1917. Although he could expect a short period of grace, he realized that he would have to produce tangible victories, not only for his own political survival, but also to boost the morale of the war weary British public. He feared that continued massive casualties in futile offensives, such as had occurred at the Somme, would only increase public support for a negotiated peace.
There was a dark and disturbing side to Lloyd George's character. According to his son, he was cruel to his wife and pursued women with the mad passion of a Casanova, although, as prime minister, his extra-martial activities were confined mostly to one woman – his secretary Frances Stevenson. But adultery was not the least of his failings. Indeed his deceitful behavior, even by political standards, stood out so conspicuously that one would be hard pressed to identify another prime minister in the last century who inspired as much distrust as he did. He put political ambition before anything else and, to that end, was unencumbered by fixed principle or party loyalty. As Lord Beaverbrook, a close friend, put it, to “Lloyd George no policy was permanent, no pledge final” and “like a trick rider at the circus” leaped “from one back to another.”
Lloyd George personalized politics to an unusual degree and was relentless in persecuting those he disliked. He was ruthlessly cold and had no compunction about discarding loyal subordinates when they no longer served his interests. Few who knew him, even close colleagues, had anything kind to say about his ethical conduct. John Maynard Keynes's damning indictment was that he was “rooted in nothing,” that he was “void and without content.” Clementine Churchill so distrusted him that she once described him as a “direct descendant of Judas Iscariot.” The first Labour prime minister, Ramsay MacDonald, had a similar view of Lloyd George, noting in his diary that he was “a colleague who was ever disloyal,” that “he never used a partner but for his own ends and sacrificed everyone who trusted him.” The late A.J.P. Taylor was not far off the mark when he wrote that Lloyd George “had no friends and did not deserve any.”
If Lloyd George's reputation for deviousness was well earned, it must also be said that he proved to be a dynamic, hardworking and resolute leader. He radiated an air of extraordinary strength and authority, which people in his presence encountered in no other politician. Although his formal education was limited and his reading as an adult was confined mostly to novels and newspapers (he refused to wade through complicated and lengthy documents preferring to ask leading questions from those who had done so) there were few men in public life who could match his intelligence and perception. He had a prodigious memory, even if he could never remember the birthdays of his wife or any of his children. If he wanted something badly, he was indefatigable, and, if one line of approach failed, he would drop it and take another. He was skilful at overcoming colleagues who doubted or resisted his policies, and rare were those who did not succumb to his genuine, unforced charm. He had a lifelong fascination with the press, understanding more than most its capacity to mold public opinion, and was extremely adroit in manipulating it. He employed a press secretary – the first prime minister to do so – to shield him from correspondents while cultivating close relations with press barons, providing them with inside information in return for support.
Lloyd George's Ability to Charm Labour Was an Asset Throughout His Career
Whenever seeking a resolution to a problem, Lloyd George was unconcerned by either tradition or convention. He was bored with details, preferring to concentrate on the direction or conception of policy. Possessing superabundant energy, he radically increased the amount and pace of government activity and, even after leaving his office in the early evening, remained restless and found it difficult to avoid mixing business with pleasure.
Much of Lloyd George's success was attributable to his outstanding skill as an orator, which was unmatched by any of his contemporaries with the possible exception of Asquith. By all accounts he was more effective on the platform than in the Commons. Although MPs were often amused by his colorful speeches and witty repartee, he was not held in the same regard as Asquith, who depended on logic and reasoned analysis. As one writer noted: “Exaggeration, emphasis, and emotional appeal enabled him to capture a crowd, but the same glibness seemed to have displeased the House.”
Be that as it may, no one could rival Lloyd George's command over a public audience. “Emotional, dramatic, rhetorical, and never too long, he was always the incomparable actor with a perfect sense of theatre,” wrote one of Lloyd George's biographers. He had a rich, tenor-like voice, flexible in its range. He would begin his speeches softly in order to capture the audience's attention, and his voice would gradually rise in volume as he built up to an emotional climax. He always seemed to sense the mood of an audience and could project himself as if he was speaking personally to each man and woman. Like all gifted orators, his timing of dramatic pauses or hand and head gestures, was perfect. By combining power and passion, often in the style of a lay preacher, he could move an audience to tears.
A severe handicap facing Lloyd George when he assumed office was that he did not have a secure party base. He could count on the support of about half the members of his own party. Only minor Liberal figures agreed to join his government. All the Liberal ministers in the 1915–1916 cabinet were so appalled at his disloyalty that they would have nothing to do with him, preferring instead to follow Asquith into political exile. Winston Churchill was another ex-Liberal minister whom Lloyd George unsuccessfully tried to bring into his administration. The two men had waged political battles together in the prewar era, and Churchill had given Lloyd George unstinting support during the Marconi scandal. But Lloyd George was not a man to act on the basis of fond memories or out of gratitude. Rather, he viewed so formidable a personality as Churchill in the Opposition as a potential threat. The Unionists, however, had never forgiven Churchill for crossing the floor of the House in 1904 to join the Liberals and also regarded him as a menace, blaming him for the fiasco in the Dardanelles and other misadventures while he served as First Lord of the Admiralty.
From the very beginning Lloyd George knew only too well that his fate rested in the hands of the Unionists. Bonar Law could not be accused of hyperbole when he told a Conservative gathering in November 1918: “It is not his Liberal friends, it is the Unionist Party which has made him Prime Minister, and made it possible for him to do the great work that has been done by this government….” Conscious of the precariousness of his position, Lloyd George could not shake his nagging fear that he might be deserted by his allies or that Asquith would find a way to turn the tables on him and sweep him out of office. These fears proved groundless. Although the Tories were aware of his personal and professional shortcomings, or at least most of them, they could see no alternative to his vigorous leadership.
Lloyd George worried less about [his cabinet selections] than the men he selected to head the service departments. The Earl of Derby went to the War Office, partly to compensate him for siding with those who had rebelled against Asquith and partly to assure Robertson that the new administration would not seek to impose a military policy on the High Command. Lloyd George did not have a high regard for Derby's ability. He was a corpulent, unimpressive-looking man, without strength of character or ambition, but honest, well meaning, and reasonably sensible. He saw his role as shielding the military leaders against the intrusions of politicians.
Installed at the Admiralty, Sir Edward Carson, the leader of the Ulster Unionists, was a brilliant speaker, courageous, hardworking and energetic. But he had no administrative experience and he was the first to concede that he knew nothing about the technical side of the navy. Hence he saw his function, not as framing policy but, like Derby, as protecting “his professional advisers against political attacks.”
To cope with problems generated by the war, Lloyd George created a number of new ministries, beginning at once with Pensions, Labour, Shipping, Food Control, and National Service. Here too he turned to individuals outside traditional political circles. Most notably, Lloyd George could not have made a better choice to head the Ministry of Shipping than Sir Joseph Maclay, a wealthy Glasgow ship owner. He would play a pivotal role in defeating the U-boat menace.
Sir Joseph Maclay LG's Shipping Controller
An important and original feature of the Second Coalition was the creation of a small flexible body, invested with supreme executive responsibility. Under the Asquith administration all conclusions reached by the War Council and its successor bodies had been tentative and required the full cabinet's final approval. The decision-making process was thus slow and chaotic. Lloyd George's remedy was to create a War Cabinet, in the place of the full cabinet and the War Committee, originally composed of himself (as chairman), Arthur Henderson, Bonar Law, Lord Milner, and Lord Curzon. Only Bonar Law, as chancellor of the Exchequer, carried any departmental responsibilities.
The rest were ministers without portfolio, free to devote their full time to the wider aspects of war policy. Ministers outside the War Cabinet were confined to departmental affairs and played no role in the supreme decision-making process.
The CIGS General Roberston, although not a member, was on hand at the start of most of the sessions to provide military information. Lloyd George's determination to avoid the obstructionism of the services led him to exclude Derby and Carson. This decision had unfortunate consequences. Without close supervision the service chiefs, owing to their insecurity, allowed their professional advisers to set policy to which the War Cabinet often objected, provoking head on collisions that could not help but hinder the war effort.
Political considerations, rather than administrative ability, determined Lloyd George's choices for the War Cabinet. Henderson, leader of the Labour Party, was a lightweight, unacquainted with even the basic elements of strategy. Lloyd George did not hold him in high regard, but his inclusion had been in exchange for Labour's support of the new government.
As leader of the Unionists, Bonar Law's support was indispensable to Lloyd George's survival. If Lloyd George hoped to devote all of his time to the daily management of the war, which he considered essential under his new centralized system, he needed to be relieved of the arduous task of leading the Commons. To that end, he deputed the responsibility to Bonar Law, on top of his work at the Exchequer.
Bonar Law was by no means brilliant, but even his appreciable ability was underrated, at least partly because he avoided the limelight, was remote, and had a somber personality. He was modest, unassuming, clear-headed and unselfish, with simple habits and a reputation for honesty and integrity. Temperamentally no two men could have been more dissimilar than Bonar Law and Lloyd George. Yet the two worked well together, no doubt because Bonar Law was content to be the junior partner. The Unionist chief understood that the new administration rested, more than the previous ones, on the shoulders of one man.
Curzon, a former viceroy of India and staunch imperialist, owed his accession essentially to his standing as an elder statesman in the Unionist party. His rare intellectual qualities, inexhaustible industry, and encyclopedic knowledge of the Empire were a great asset to the War Cabinet.
The most formidable figure was Milner, ex-high commissioner for South Africa, whose selection had been totally unexpected. Lloyd George had been a harsh critic of Milner during the Boer War and since then the two men had rarely spoken. Milner was the darling of a clique of young Tory intellectuals and much admired in right-wing political circles. Lloyd George chose Milner to remove him from the camp of the generals and to gain the backing of two separate but influential groups, the Tory intelligentsia and the Tory die-hards (who wanted to win the war at any cost), but he also gained a brilliant minister. Grateful to return to high political office after a dozen years in the wilderness, Milner later became Lloyd George's most stalwart supporter against the generals and certainly the most creative administrator in the government.
The War Cabinet inherited from its predecessor the nucleus of a secretariat presided over by Lt. Col. Maurice Hankey, an administrator of exceptional ability. Hankey occupied a position of considerable influence in the government. He saw the prime minister practically every day and, if asked for his opinion or advice, had no hesitation about responding orally or in writing. His memoranda on broad strategic matters were informative, imaginative, and cogently expressed.
Tomorrow — Lloyd George's Generals and Admirals, Lloyd George at War, 1916–1918
