The Peace That Prepared the War
There is something vertiginous about rereading these forty-three years from 1871 to 1914: on paper, they are the longest uninterrupted years of peace Western Europe had known in generations. Not a single war between European great powers throughout this entire period. And yet it was precisely this peace that manufactured, piece by piece, the deadliest war the continent had ever known.

The paradox is worth pausing over. Every piece of this system — the Franco-Russian alliance, the Entente Cordiale, the Triple Alliance, the dreadnought race — was designed by its architects as an instrument of deterrence, of caution, of balance. No one, in 1892 or in 1907, signed these agreements thinking they were preparing a world war; on the contrary, everyone believed they were guarding against one. This is where the most uncomfortable lesson of this period lies: rational mechanisms, each conceived in isolation to avert the worst, can assemble into a machine that makes the worst inevitable — without any of their architects having wanted it, or even foreseen it.

The two Moroccan crises should have served as a warning. Twice, in 1905 and in 1911, Europe came close to general war for reasons that, on the surface, had nothing to do with Alsace-Lorraine or the revenge of 1870 — and twice, the crisis subsided without anyone seriously questioning the soundness of the system that had allowed things to come so close to the abyss. The symptoms were treated; the disease was never cured.

This may be where the most direct link to the first installment of this series is forged. The humiliation of 1806, transformed by Prussia into a national project, took sixty-four years to bear fruit at Sedan. The alliance system of 1871–1914, by contrast, needed no fresh humiliation to be set in motion: once the blocs had hardened and the mobilization plans were locked in place, a regional assassination was enough. The mechanism was no longer merely psychological — it had become mechanical.