Balance is a key word in international politics, a fetish word for architects of international security, a panacea on duty for the ills of coexistence between nations. 

The relations of power in the international arena are inevitably dynamic. Changes in the relations of states’ potentials may naturally lead to the dominance of the stronger. The healthier solution for the system is usually to ensure a balance of power. In the classic cycle of political history, according to the realistic school of international relations, the balance is cyclically disturbed, and the natural logic is to recreate it in order to ensure the international order. Because balance is a desired state of just order. Because balance is stability, predictability of behaviour, and a guarantee of the enforcement of the rules.

Experts argue that it is wrong to write about the doctrine of equilibrium as such. Balance of power is neither a doctrine, nor an algorithm for action, nor even a mechanism for reacting to emerging threats. It is primarily a way of perceiving the state of international security, assessing its impact on one’s own sense of security. Nevertheless, striving for balance as the doctrine of politics can be considered as a legitimate and practical policy imperative.

Of course, the equilibrium paradigm works well in the competitive model of the international environment, when states strive to maximize the conditions for the realization of their own interests in relation to the interests of foreign states, when the alternative states to equilibrium may be either domination or subordination.

Today, I would like to invite lovers of the history of diplomacy for a short peregrination to the sources of the politics of balance in the modern European edition.

The political and military system that emerged from the Congress of Vienna in 1815 was considered a sterling formula for the balance of power (at least in the European version). The essence of this formula was the lack of the ability of any single country to dominate the continent. The system was originally directed against France, as it was born out of a desire to prevent a repetition of French control over continental Europe attempted in the Napoleonic era. France, however, quite quickly, at the beginning of the 1820s, joined the equilibrium system on equal footing. The post-Vienna balance was based on the cooperation of the leading powers, their so-called concert. It was to guarantee that the international environment would evolve harmoniously, all disturbances would be mitigated jointly, respecting the interests of the great powers, on the basis of their consensus. Maintaining the effectiveness of the equilibrium system was not so much a value in itself, but a superior value that had to be placed above the selfish benefits of individual actors that could tempt them in times of crisis.

The stability which was of key importance for the whole of Europe was to be ensured in its central part by organizing Germany in the formula of a confederation which was too loose to pose a threat to its neighbours, but compact enough to withstand external threats. The German Confederation, embracing also Austria and Prussia, formed an important part of the equilibrium. William Pitt the Younger, who did not live to see the Congress of Vienna, postulated this approach as the so-called process of consolidation, i.e. the creation of “great masses” between France and Russia. The post-Vienna consolidation, despite the restoration of the hull of the Kingdom of Poland under the Russian rule, did not foresee the need for a “greater mass” as a buffer between Prussia and Russia. The concept of such a buffer did not appeal to the imagination of the rulers of Europe. It did not become part of the balance of power established then. This condemned Poland to foreign domination. Just like a few other nations that have been pushed into the frames of the “foreign” great masses. Proponents of the doctrine of the balance of power of XIX century Europe, led by Henry Kissinger, did not take into account its costs to the subordinate nations. Long and endurable peace in Europe after the Congress of Vienna thus was made at the expense of the discrimination and oppression of smaller nations (Poles, Czechs, Hungarians and others). This is an acerbum dictum that must not be omitted when discussing the effects of the policy of equilibrium.

The post-Vienna concert of powers was additionally reinforced with the so-called binder of shared values. Russia, Prussia and Austria joined the Holy Alliance, the aim of which was to combat all attempts to undermine the existing domestic political systems. In the original idea with which Tsar Alexander came to the Congress of Vienna, the Holy Alliance was to be a European embodiment of the Kantian vision of a European confederation of peace and justice based on Christian ideals of brotherhood. The nobility of the idea faded into oblivion with almost every conversation of negotiators between Viennese balls. In effect, the original plan became its contradiction.

The Holy Alliance went down in history as an instrument of oppression and the preservation of the old order. Its reactionary edge was felt by Poland in the November Uprising of 1830, when, guided by the obligations of the Alliance, Prussia mobilized its army in border regions in the event of the need to support the Russian pacification of the Kingdom of Poland. It was felt by Hungary during the Spring of Nations in 1849, when Paskevich’s army came to the rescue of the Habsburg rule. Before that, Naples (in 1820) and Spain (in 1820-1823) became the training ground for reactionary solidarity of the Alliance. Great Britain never joined the Holy Alliance. Its policy was later determined by the Palmerston doctrine, which stated that the threat to Great Britain in Europe could be territorial annexation, but by no means a change of the internal system. Palmerston himself was a supporter of liberal and national movements, and believed that they could benefit Great Britain. 

The oppressiveness and reactivity of the post-Vienna model of equilibrium became visible under the pressure of national liberation movements. Polish uprisings, both in November of 1830 and in January of 1863 (despite the emotional rhetoric of support from Napoleon III), were sacrificed on the altar of European stability. Belgium’s independence was successfully included in the equilibrium model (under the conditions of neutrality), in which Palmerston’s share was not negligible. But most of all, a combination of circumstances favourable to the Belgians helped. The Polish November Uprising absorbed the Holy Alliance (Prussia and Russia) so much that the Belgians were left alone. The Greeks also managed to liberate themselves from the Turkish occupation in 1821-1832.

The Crimean War started in 1853 inflicted a fatal wound on the Holy Alliance (Christian Austria betrayed Russia in a clash with Muslim Turkey). The humiliation of Austria by Prussia in 1866 accelerated the agony of the entire system. And the unification of Germany engineered by Prussia became the final blow with which the spirit of the Alliance was finally annihilated. United Germany, with its big population, and economic and military oversized dimension, disrupted the equilibrium system established in Vienna in 1815. 

Nevertheless, the very idea of usefulness of equilibrium was not questioned thereafter. Such balance could not, however, be a priori decreed. It became by the end of the XIX century a postulate driving the building of alliances and agreements that would give a substitute for predictability. The equilibrium paradigm also changed its nature. Until 1870, it was based on the factor of strength (concert of powers) and legality (Holy Alliance). After 1870, only pure power and its correlations became its essence.

In the late nineteenth century, the balance was pursued according to two (sometimes competing) methods. The British approach (practised by both Palmerston and Disraeli) was reactive. It suggested to act only when the balance was disturbed, causing specific and tangible threats. Then it was necessary to build counterweights and get involved on the side of the weaker. Therefore, the British did not want to enter into preventive alliances and give guarantees against abstract cases. Until the necessity to act emerged, Britain deemed necessary to stand aside and practice “splendid isolation.” The German approach (until Bismarck left the chancellor’s office in 1890) was of a more preventive nature. It required building close relations with everyone possible (except for France, of course, which was considered an implacable enemy of Germany), forming overlapping circles of alliances, and using the opportunities that resulted from them to temper the attempts of potential opponents of the European balance of power. 

Bismarck inscribed the European equilibrium in the shape of a regular star polygon. This pentagram was made up of Germany, France, Russia, Austria-Hungary and Great Britain, and their mutual relations. In principle, all possible combinations were possible in such a configuration, except those which placed Germany and France in one camp. Bismarck’s principle was simple: it was always better for Germany to enter a coalition of three members than to land in a two-member constellation. This is how the doctrine of the flexible balance of power was born, which replaced, though not for long, the rigid format of the concert of powers. It put the Germans under stress of the “couchemar des coalitions”. But it could only function effectively when Germany maintained the attitude of self-restraint practiced by Bismarck. Its lapidary reflection was Bismarck’s phrase that “the Balkans are not worth the life of even one Pomeranian grenadier”. The formula could also work while the British were in “splendid isolation”. When these two factors were absent, a rigid system of alliances emerged, in which Germany remained in an alliance with Austria-Hungary (the Three-Alliance concluded in 1882 also included Italy, but the Italians went over to the Entente in 1915), and the Tri-Alliance united France, Russia and Great Britain. Rigid alliances triggered a cascade of declarations of war, which put Europe in a state of a general armed conflict in 1914.

The catalyst for the conflict of interest, which demanded the search for lasting allied guarantees, was undoubtedly the security vacuum caused by the implosion of the Ottoman Empire. Russia pushed hard towards the Black Sea straits. Austria aimed at controlling the Western Balkans. Great Britain initially supported the dying Ottoman Empire for fear of Russia’s expansion towards warm seas. Then William II hung his eye on Turkey.

A large group of analysts also associate the disturbance of the European balance at the beginning of the 20th century with global competition. Indeed, in 1898 France and Great Britain stood almost on the brink of war (the Fashoda incident), but the rivalry in Africa ended in a peaceful settlement (and the factor of their inevitable rivalry with Germany, which had a strong bonding effect between France and Great Britain, helped to sober up emotions). Germany entered the colonial rivalry with bang and awkwardness. William II proclaimed the “Weltmacht” doctrine to make Germany a global power. Von Bulow demanded “a place under the sun” for Germany and the repartition of colonial assets. And despite the gains achieved, making Germany the third colonial power after Great Britain and France, the Kaiser felt by no means satisfied. Germany went into conflict with France over Morocco, it stimulated its own appetite with the project “Mittelafrika”, and introduced the concept of “gunboat policy” into the history of diplomacy. This is how two camps that faced each other in the trenches of World War I cemented themselves.

World War I finally buried the doctrine of the European balance of power. World War II was, in a way, its continuation. After the Second World War, the balance (of fear), based on the nuclear parity of the USA and the USSR, returned to the inter-bloc approach. And after the fall of communism, the world entered the Pax Americana era. Today, the search for a formula of a new equilibrium, that sometimes resembles the myth with the Danaid barrel, continues. Because the balance cannot be arbitrarily decreed. More about it here another time.

Political balance, and the underpinning system of alliances and guarantees, is an instrument of adjustment to changes in the might of states, and these in turn are the result of profound and fundamental economic, social and even civilization changes. Fernand Braudel was a pioneer in exploring the role of these processes. His considerations can inspire diplomats in everyday activities, or at least allow them to take a healthier distance to reality.

In September 1998, as Deputy Director of the Department of European Security Policy of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I had the task of organizing a special conference under the Polish chairmanship of the OSCE. Poland then waived the right to host the annual ministerial session. Adam D. Rotfeld, then director of SIPRI, persuaded the management of the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs to organize at a low cost a political and intellectual meeting instead. We managed to get a positive response from a group of diplomats, analysts, publicists and intellectuals from a selected, small group, but coming from almost twenty Member States. We took them to a secluded place (to Konstancin). The meeting was to be opened by Minister Bronisław Geremek. He told us in advance that he would deliver a speech, listen for an hour, and then devote himself to other tasks (which is understandable, because the time was very intense in European politics). The minister made the speech. I was sitting on his left side. Out of the corner of my eye, after the speech I saw him discreetly pulling out a book. I read: Fernand Braudel. Could it be “Grammaire des civilizations”? Anyway, big respect. Such a distance to even the most interestingly promising discourse on political trivialities of the present day not only impressed me, but even inspired me for years ahead. But Geremek began to listen to the participants. And the unexpected happened: he started listening to them with visibly growing interest. He changed his plans, hid the book and stayed with the participants until the end. Because it was undoubtedly one of the best discussions about the OSCE that ever took place, and certainly the best I listened to. At the end, there was nothing left for me to do but to present a daring report on the debates (I was formally appointed rapporteur for the conference). But the later written version does not reflect the intellectual and political fervour with which the discussion took place.