The problem of the origins of the Crimean War has long been in the field of view of historians who gravitate towards the study of failed, but possible scenarios of the past. The debate about whether there was an alternative to it is as old as the war itself, and there is no end in sight to the debate: this is too exciting a topic. Considering these disputes insoluble in principle, we chose the form of participation in it that is preferable for many researchers: on the basis of some cataloging of facts and events, a retrospective hypothetical analysis that claims to build not a mathematical proof, but only a general scheme that does not contradict logic.
Today, when Russia remains in a situation of strategic choice, reflections on historical alternatives acquire particular urgency. They, of course, do not insure us against mistakes, but they still leave hope for the absence of initially programmed outcomes in history, and therefore in modern life. This message inspires with the ability to avoid the worst with will and reason. But he also worries about the existence of the same chances to turn to a disastrous path, if will and reason refuse politicians who make fateful decisions.
The Eastern crisis of the 1950s occupies a special place in the history of international relations of the 19th century, being a kind of "dress rehearsal" for the future imperialist division of the world. This is the end of a nearly 40-year era of relative stability in Europe. The Crimean War (in a sense, "world") was preceded by a rather long period of complex and uneven development of international contradictions with alternating phases of ups and downs. Post factum: the origin of the war looks like a long-ripening conflict of interests, with inexorable logic approaching a natural outcome.
Such milestones as the Adrianople (1829) and Unkar-Iskelesi (1833) treaties, the Vixen incident (1836 - 1837), the London conventions of 1840 - 1841, the king's visit to England in 1844, the European revolutions of 1848 - 1849 with their immediate consequences for the "Eastern question" and finally the prologue of a military clash - the dispute over the "holy places", which prompted Nicholas I to new confidential explanations with London, which in many ways unexpectedly complicated the situation.
Meanwhile, in the Eastern crisis of the 1850s, as many historians believe, there was no initial predetermination. They assume that for a long time there remained rather high chances of preventing both the Russo-Turkish war and (when this did not happen) the Russo-European one. Opinions differ only in the identification of the event that turned out to be a "point of no return".
This is an interesting question indeed. The very beginning of the war between Russia and Turkey [1] did not represent either a catastrophe or even a threat to peace in Europe. According to some researchers, Russia would limit itself to “symbolic bloodletting”, after which it would allow a European “concert” to intervene to work out a peace treaty. In the fall-winter of 1853, Nicholas I most likely expected just such a development of events, hoping that historical experience did not give reason to fear a local war with the Turks on the model of the previous ones. When the king accepted the challenge of Porta, who was the first to start hostilities, he had no choice but to fight. Management of the situation almost completely passed into the hands of the Western powers and Austria. Now the choice of the further scenario depended only on them - either localization or escalation of the war.
The notorious "point of no return" can be looked for in different places of the event-chronological scale, but as soon as it was ultimately passed, the whole prehistory of the Crimean War acquires a different meaning, providing the supporters of the theory of regularities with arguments that, despite their imperfection, are easier to accept than refute. It cannot be proven with absolute certainty, but it can be assumed that much of what happened on the eve of the war and two or three decades before it was due to deep processes and trends in world politics, including the Russian-British contradictions in the Caucasus, which markedly increased the general tension in the Near and Middle East. …
The Crimean War did not arise over the Caucasus (however, it is difficult to pinpoint any specific reason at all). But hopes for the involvement of this region in the sphere of political and economic influence of England gave the ruling class of the country a latent incentive, if not to purposefully unleash a war, then at least to abandon excessive efforts to prevent it. The temptation to find out what could be gained from Russia to the east (as well as to the west) of the straits was considerable. Perhaps it is worth listening to the opinion of one English historian, who considered the Crimean War to be largely a product of the “great game” in Asia.
Emperor Napoleon III
The very difficult question of the responsibility of Napoleon III stands apart, in which many historians see it as its main instigator. Is it so? Yes and no. On the one hand, Napoleon III was a consistent revisionist in relation to the Vienna system and its fundamental principle, the status quo. In this sense, Nicholas Russia - the guardian of "peace in Europe" - was for the French emperor the most serious obstacle to be removed. On the other hand, it is not at all a fact that he was going to do this with the help of a large European war, which would create a risky and unpredictable situation, including for France itself.
Deliberately provoking a controversy over the "holy places", Napoleon III, perhaps, would like nothing more than a diplomatic victory that allowed him to sow discord among the great powers, primarily over the expediency of maintaining the status quo in Europe. The drama, however, is different: he was unable to maintain control over the course of events and gave the Turks the levers of dangerous manipulation of the crisis in their own, far from peaceful interests. The actual Russian-Turkish contradictions also mattered. Porta did not abandon its claims to the Caucasus.
The confluence of circumstances unfavorable for Russia in the early 1850s was due not only to objective factors. The faulty policy of Nicholas I hastened the formation of a European coalition directed against him. Provoking and then cleverly using the tsar's miscalculations and delusions, the London and Paris cabinets, willingly or unwillingly, created the prerequisites for an armed conflict. The responsibility for the Crimean drama was fully shared with the Russian monarch by the Western governments and the Porta, which sought to weaken Russia's international positions, to deprive it of the advantage it received as a result of the Vienna agreements.
Portrait of Emperor Nicholas I
A certain share of the blame lies with the partners of Nicholas I in the Holy Alliance - Austria and Prussia. In September 1853, confidential negotiations between the Russian emperor and Franz Joseph I and Friedrich Wilhelm IV took place in Olmutz and Warsaw. The atmosphere of these meetings, according to the testimony of contemporaries, left no doubt: between the participants "the closest friendship reigned as before." Willingly or unwillingly, the Austrian emperor and the Prussian king helped Nicholas I to firmly establish himself in the hope of the loyalty of their ancestral allies. At least there was no reason to suppose that Vienna would "surprise the world with its ingratitude" and Berlin would not side with the tsar.
The ideological and political solidarity of the three monarchs, which separated them from the "democratic" West (England and France), was not an empty phrase. Russia, Austria and Prussia were interested in preserving the internal political ("moral") and international (geopolitical) status quo in Europe. Nicholas I remained his most real guarantor, so there was not so much idealism in the tsar's hope for the support of Vienna and Berlin.
Another thing is that in addition to ideological interests, Austria and Prussia had geopolitical interests. This left Vienna and Berlin on the eve of the Crimean War with a difficult choice between the temptation to join the coalition of winners for a share of the trophies and the fear of losing, in the face of an overly weakened Russia, a defensive bulwark against the revolution. The material eventually prevailed over the ideal. Such a victory was not fatally predetermined, and only a brilliant politician could foresee it. Nicholas I did not belong to this category. This is, perhaps, the main thing and, perhaps, the only thing for which he is to blame.
It is more difficult to analyze the Russian-English contradictions in the 1840s, more precisely, their perception by Nicholas I. It is generally believed that he underestimated these contradictions and exaggerated the Anglo-French ones. It seems that he really did not notice that under the guise of an alleged alliance with Russia on the "Eastern question" (London Conventions, 1840 - 1841) Palmerston was hatching the idea of a coalition war against her. Nicholas I did not notice (in any case, did not give it its due) and the process of rapprochement between England and France, which began in the mid-1840s.
Nicholas I, in a sense, lost the Crimean War as early as 1841, when he made a political mistake because of his self-confident idealism. Relatively easily rejecting the benefits of the Unkar-Iskelesi treaty, the tsar naively expected to receive in return for today's concession tomorrow's consent of the British to the eventual division of the "Ottoman inheritance".
In 1854, it became clear that this was a mistake. However, in essence, it turned into a mistake only thanks to the Crimean War - that “strange” one that, in the opinion of many historians, unexpectedly emerged from the fatal interweaving of semi-accidental, by no means inevitable, circumstances. In any case, at the time of the signing of the London Convention (1841), there was no apparent reason to believe that Nicholas I was dooming himself to a clash with England, and they, of course, would not have appeared if in 1854 there was a whole jumble of factors due to fear. suspicion, ignorance, miscalculations, intrigues and vanity did not result in a coalition war against Russia.
It turns out a very paradoxical picture: the events of the 1840s - early 1850s with their low level of conflict potential "logically" and "naturally" led to a big war, and a series of dangerous crises, revolutions and military worries of the 1830s (1830 - 1833, 1837, 1839 - 1840) illogically and illegally ended with a long period of stabilization.
There are historians who claim that Nicholas I was completely frank when he tirelessly convinced England that he had no anti-British intentions. The king wanted to create an atmosphere of personal trust between the leaders of both states. For all the difficulties in achieving them, the Russian-British compromise agreements on ways to resolve the two eastern crises (1820s and late 1830s) turned out to be productive from the point of view of preventing a major European war. Lacking the experience of such cooperation, Nicholas I would never have allowed himself the visit he made to England in June 1844 with the aim of discussing with British leaders in a confidential atmosphere the forms and prospects of partnership in the "Eastern question". The talks went quite smoothly and encouragingly. The parties stated their mutual interest in maintaining the status quo in the Ottoman Empire. In the conditions of extremely tense then relations with France and the United States, London was glad to receive the most reliable assurances personally from Nicholas I about his unwavering readiness to respect the vital interests of Great Britain in the most sensitive geographical points for her.
At the same time, there was nothing shocking for R. Peel and D. Aberdin in the Tsar's proposal on the expediency of concluding a Russian-English agreement of a general nature (something like a protocol of intent) in case the spontaneous disintegration of Turkey urgently requires coordinated efforts from Russia and England. by filling the formed vacuum based on the principle of equilibrium. According to Western historians, the negotiations of 1844 brought a spirit of mutual trust into Russian-British relations. In one study, the tsar's visit is even called the "apogee of detente" between the two powers.
This atmosphere persisted in subsequent years and ultimately served as a kind of insurance during the crisis that arose between St. Petersburg and London in connection with the demand of Nicholas I to the Port for the extradition of Polish and Hungarian revolutionaries (autumn 1849). Fearing that the sultan's refusal would force Russia to use force, England resorted to a warning gesture and sent her military squadron into Bezique Bay. The situation escalated when, in violation of the spirit of the London Convention of 1841, the British ambassador to Constantinople, Stratford-Canning, ordered the stationing of British warships directly at the entrance to the Dardanelles. Nicholas I judged that it was not worth going along the path of escalating the conflict because of a problem that concerns not so much Russia as Austria, which was eager to punish the participants in the Hungarian uprising. In response to a personal request from the Sultan, the tsar abandoned his demands, and Palmerston disavowed his ambassador, apologized to St. Petersburg, thereby confirming England's loyalty to the principle of closing the straits for warships in peacetime. The incident was over. Thus, the idea of a Russian-English compromise partnership as a whole withstood the test to which it underwent largely due to attendant circumstances that had no direct relation to the true content of the disagreements between the two empires.
These thoughts, expressed mainly in Western historiography, by no means mean that Nicholas I was infallible in his analysis of potential threats and actions dictated by the results of this analysis. The London Cabinet also made quite symmetrical mistakes. Most likely, these inevitable costs on both sides were caused not by a lack of desire to negotiate and not by a lack of sound logical messages. If really something was lacking for a stable strategic partnership between Russia and England, it was a comprehensive awareness of each other's plans, which is absolutely necessary for complete trust, and for full compliance with the rules of rivalry, and for the correct interpretation of situations when it seemed as if the positions London and St. Petersburg completely coincide. It was the problem of the most correct interpretation that became the cornerstone of Russian-English relations in the 1840s - early 1850s.
Of course, a strict account here must be presented first of all to the emperor himself, his ability and desire to delve deeply into the essence of things. However, it should be said that the British were not too zealous in placing all the dots over the "i", making the situation even more confusing and unpredictable when it required simplification and clarification. However, the complexity of the procedure for an exhaustive clarification between St. Petersburg and London of the essence of their positions on the "Eastern question" to some extent justified both sides. Thus, with all the external success of the negotiations of 1844 and due to different interpretations of their final meaning, they carried a certain destructive potential.
The same can be said about the fleeting Anglo-Russian conflict of 1849. Being settled surprisingly easily and quickly, it turned out to be a dangerous foreshadowing in the end precisely because Nicholas I and Palmerston then drew different conclusions from what happened (or rather, from what did not happen). The tsar took the British Secretary of State's apology for the arbitrariness of Stratford-Canning, as well as the Foreign Office's statement of unswerving adherence to the London Convention of 1841 as further confirmation of England's unchanged course of business cooperation with Russia on the "Eastern question." Proceeding from this assessment, Nicholas I readily gave London a counter-signal in the form of renouncing claims against the Port, which, according to his expectations, should have been regarded as a broad gesture of goodwill towards both England and Turkey. Meanwhile, Palmerston, who did not believe in such gestures, decided that the tsar simply had to retreat in the face of forceful pressure and, therefore, thereby recognize the effectiveness of applying such methods to him.
As for the international diplomatic consequences of the revolutions of 1848, they consisted not so much in the creation of a real threat to the common European peace and the Vienna order, but in the emergence of a new potentially destructive factor, to which Nicholas I was certainly not involved: All the great powers, except Russia, were replaced by revisionists. By virtue of their political outlook, they objectively opposed the Russian emperor - now the only defender of the post-Napoleonic system.
When the controversy over the "holy places" arose (1852), it was not given importance either in England, or in Russia, or in Europe. It seemed an insignificant event also because it had no direct bearing on Russian-English relations and had not yet very dangerously affected Russian-Turkish relations. If a conflict was brewing, it was primarily between Russia and France. For a number of reasons, Napoleon III got involved in the litigation, involved Nicholas I and Abdul-Majid, and later the London Cabinet.
Abdul-Majid I
For the time being, nothing foreshadowed any special troubles. The European "concert" in some cases, Russia and England - in others, more than once had to face and resolve much more complex conflicts. Nicholas I, who believed that he could not be afraid of French intrigues or Turkish obstructions, did not leave a feeling of confidence, having more than a decade of experience of partnership with England in his political assets. If this was a delusion, then London until the spring of 1853 did nothing to dispel it. The head of the coalition government, Eberdin, who had a special affection for Nicholas I, willingly or unwillingly lulled the Russian emperor to sleep. In particular, the prime minister removed from the Foreign Office Palmerston, who was in favor of the hard line. It is not surprising that the tsar regarded this personnel transfer as an allusion to the continuing "cordial agreement" between Russia and England. It would be better if Eberdin left Palmerston at the helm of foreign policy so that he could help Nicholas I get rid of illusions in time.
Much has been written in the historical literature about the role of another “fatal” factor that contributed to the outbreak of the Crimean War. The confidence of Nicholas I in the presence of deep, war-prone contradictions between England and France is viewed as another "illusion" of the tsar. Meanwhile, the facts do not give any opportunity to agree with such an assessment. Starting from the very dangerous crisis around Tahiti (summer 1844), Anglo-French relations up to 1853 were in a permanently tense state, sometimes in the immediate vicinity of the brink of collapse. The British kept their navy in the Mediterranean and other waters in full combat readiness against the French. The British leadership absolutely seriously prepared for the worst and, most importantly, for the real, from its point of view, scenario - the landing of a 40,000-strong French army on the British Isles in order to capture London.
The growing sense of vulnerability led the British to demand from their government to increase the land army, regardless of costs. The rise to power of Louis Napoleon horrified people in Britain who remembered the troubles and fears brought by his famous uncle, who associated this name with absolute evil. In 1850, diplomatic relations between London and Paris were severed due to an attempt by Britain to use force against Greece, where a wave of anti-British sentiment arose, caused by a generally insignificant episode.
The military alarm of the winter months of 1851-1852 in connection with the coup in Paris and its repetition in February-March 1853 once again showed that Britain had reasons to consider France as enemy number one. The irony is that just a year later, she was already fighting not against the country that caused her so much anxiety, but against Russia, with which London, in principle, did not mind joining an alliance against France.
It is not surprising that after the famous conversations with the British envoy in St. Petersburg G. Seymour (January-February 1853) dedicated to the "Eastern question", Nicholas I continued to be at the mercy of ideas, which until the start of the Crimean War, few Western and Russian observers of that time would dare to call "illusions". In historiography, there are two views (not counting the shades between them) on this very complex subject. Some researchers believe that the king, having raised the topic of the partition of Turkey and received from Britain an allegedly unequivocally negative answer, stubbornly refused to notice what could not be overlooked. Others, with varying degrees of categoricality, admit that, firstly, Nicholas I only probed the soil and, as before, raised the question of the probabilistic development of events, without insisting on their artificial acceleration; secondly, the ambiguity of London's reaction actually provoked further errors of the tsar, since it was interpreted by him in his favor.
In principle, there are plenty of arguments to support both points of view. "Correctness" will depend on the placement of accents. To confirm the first version, the words of Nicholas I are suitable: Turkey "may suddenly die in our (Russia and England - VD) hands"; perhaps the prospect of "the distribution of the Ottoman inheritance after the fall of the empire" is not far off, and he, Nicholas I, is ready to "destroy" the independence of Turkey, reduce it "to the level of a vassal and make existence itself a burden for her." In defense of the same version, the general provisions of the response message from the British side can be cited: Turkey is not threatened with disintegration in the near future, therefore it is hardly advisable to conclude preliminary agreements on the division of its inheritance, which, in addition to everything, will raise suspicions in France and Austria; even a temporary Russian occupation of Constantinople is unacceptable.
At the same time, there are many semantic accents and nuances that confirm the second point of view. Nicholas I bluntly stated: “It would be unreasonable to desire more territory or power” than he possessed, and “today's Turkey is a better neighbor”, therefore he, Nicholas I, “does not want to take the risk of war” and “will never take over Turkey. " The sovereign emphasized: he asks London "not commitments" and "not agreements"; "This is a free exchange of views." In strict accordance with the instructions of the emperor, Nesselrode inspires the London cabinet that "the fall of the Ottoman Empire … neither we (Russia. - V. D.) nor England want", and the collapse of Turkey with the subsequent distribution of its territories is "the purest hypothesis", although certainly worthy of "consideration".
As for the text of the Foreign Office's answer, there was enough semantic ambiguity in it to disorient not only Nicholas I. Some phrases sounded quite encouraging for the tsar. In particular, he was assured that the British government did not doubt the moral and legal right of Nicholas I to stand up for the Christian subjects of the Sultan, and in the event of the “fall of Turkey” (this is the phrase used) London would not do anything “without prior consultation with the Emperor of All Russia. ". The impression of complete mutual understanding was reinforced by other facts, including the statement by G. Seymour (February 1853) about his deep satisfaction with the official notification sent by Nesselrode to the Foreign Office, that between St. those that may exist between two friendly governments. " The Foreign Office instruction to Seymour (dated February 9, 1853) began with the following notification: Queen Victoria was “happy to note the moderation, sincerity and friendly disposition” of Nicholas I to England.
Queen Victoria of England
There were no noticeably intelligible attempts on the part of London to dispel the impression that he was objecting not to the essence of the tsar's proposal, but to the method and timing of its implementation. In the arguments of the British, the leitmotif sounded a call not to get ahead of events, so as not to provoke their development according to a scenario that would be fatal for Turkey and, possibly, for world peace in Europe. Although Seymour remarked in a conversation with the king that even very sick states "do not die so quickly," he never allowed himself to categorically deny such a prospect in relation to the Ottoman Empire and, in principle, admitted the possibility of an "unforeseen crisis."
Nicholas I believed that this crisis, or rather its lethal phase, would occur earlier than they think in London, where, by the way, the viability of the Porte was also assessed differently. The tsar feared the death of the "sick man" no less than the British, but unlike them, he wanted certainty for that "unforeseen" case. Nicholas I was annoyed that British leaders did not notice or pretend that they did not understand his simple and honest position. While still taking a cautious approach, he was not proposing a plan to break up Turkey or a concrete deal to divide her inheritance. The tsar called only to be ready for any turn of the situation in the eastern crisis, which was no longer a hypothetical perspective, but a harsh reality. Perhaps the surest key to understanding the essence of the emperor's fears comes from his words to Seymour. Nicholas I, with his characteristic frankness and frankness, declared: he was worried not about "what should be done" in the event of the death of Porta, but about "what should not be done". Unfortunately, London chose not to notice this important recognition or simply did not believe it.
However, at first, the consequences of Nicholas I's misinterpretation of the British response did not seem catastrophic. After his explanations with London, the sovereign acted no less cautiously than before. He was far from thinking of going ahead. The reserve of prudence among the statesmen of Britain and other great powers, who feared that the eastern crisis would escalate into a general European war with completely unpredictable prospects, seemed to be quite solid as well.
Nothing irrevocably fatal happened neither in the spring, nor in the summer, nor even in the fall of 1853 (when hostilities began between Russia and Turkey). Until the moment when nothing could be done, there was a lot of time and opportunities to prevent a big war. To one degree or another, they persisted until the beginning of 1854. Until the situation finally “went into a tailspin,” it repeatedly gave hope for scenarios according to which the eastern crises and military anxieties were resolved in 1830-1840.
The tsar was convinced that in the event that, as a result of internal natural causes, a situation of irreversible disintegration arises, it would be better for Russia and Britain to have an agreement reached in advance on a balanced division of the Turkish inheritance than to feverishly solve this problem in the extreme conditions of another Eastern crisis with unobvious chances of success and a very real opportunity to provoke a pan-European war.
In the context of this philosophy of Nicholas I, it can be assumed that he did not renew the Unkar-Iskelesi treaty primarily because he expected in the future, in exchange for compliance, to obtain London's consent to the division of the property of a "sick person" if his death was inevitable. As you know, the emperor was deceived in his expectations.
The Russian-Turkish war in Transcaucasia began on October 16 (28), 1853 with a sudden night attack on the Russian border post of St. Nicholas of the Turkish units of the Batumi corps, which, according to the French historian L. Guerin, consisted of "a rabble of marauders and robbers" who in the future still had to "acquire a sad glory." They almost completely massacred the small garrison of the fortress, without sparing the women and children. “This inhuman act,” wrote Guerin, “was only a prelude to a series of actions not only against the Russian troops, but also against local residents. He had to revive the old hatred that had existed for a long time between the two peoples (Georgians and Turks. - V. D.)”.
In connection with the outbreak of the Russian-Turkish war, A. Czartoryski and Co. again returned to their favorite plans to create a Polish legion in the Caucasus, where, according to the prince, "situations may mature … dangerous for Moscow." However, hopes for a quick military success for Turkey were soon dashed. After the defeat at Bashkadyklyar on November 27, 1853, the Turkish Anatolian army, which had come to a rather deplorable state, became the subject of increasing concern of Britain and France.
But a truly stunning impression in the European capitals, especially in London, was made by the Sinop defeat, which served as a pretext for the decision of the Western powers to enter the Anglo-French squadron into the Black Sea. As you know, the expedition of PS Nakhimov to Sinop was dictated by the situation in the Caucasus, from the point of view of military logic and Russia's interests in this area, it seemed completely justified and timely.
Since the beginning of the Russian-Turkish war, the Ottoman fleet regularly ply between the Asia Minor coast and Circassia, delivering weapons and ammunition to the mountaineers. According to the information received by the Petersburg cabinet, the Turks, on the advice of the British ambassador in Constantinople, Stratford-Canning, intended to carry out the most impressive of such operations with the participation of large amphibious forces in November 1853. The delay in countermeasures threatened a dangerous complication of the situation in the Caucasus. The Sinop victory prevented the development of events, which was detrimental to the Russian influence in that region, which was of particular importance on the eve of the entry into the war of Britain and France.
In the roar of artillery near Sinop, the London and Paris offices preferred to hear a "resounding slap" in their address: the Russians dared to destroy the Turkish fleet, one might say, in full view of the European diplomats who were in Constantinople on a "peacekeeping" mission, and the Anglo-French military squadron, arrived in the straits in the role of the guarantor of Turkey's security. The rest didn't matter. In Britain and France, newspapers reacted hysterically to the incident. Calling the Sinop case "violence" and "shame", they demanded revenge.
The British press revived the old, but in this situation, a completely exotic argument that Sinop is a step on the path of Russian expansion into India. Nobody bothered to think about the absurdity of this version. A few sober voices trying to curb this outburst of fantasy were drowned in the chorus of the masses, almost mad with hatred, fear and prejudice. The question of the entry of the Anglo-French fleet into the Black Sea was a foregone conclusion. Upon learning of the defeat of the Turks at Sinop, Stratford-Canning joyfully exclaimed: “Thank God! This is war. " Western cabinets and the press deliberately concealed from the general public the motives behind Russia's naval action in order to present it as an "act of vandalism" and flagrant aggression, cause "fair" public indignation and free one's hands.
Given the circumstances of the Battle of Sinop, it can hardly be called a successful pretext for the attack of Britain and France on Russia. If the Western cabinets were really worried about the peaceful resolution of the crisis and the fate of the Porte, as they claimed, they would have at their service such an institution of international law as mediation, which they used only formally - to divert their eyes. The "guardians" of the Turks could easily prevent their aggression in the Transcaucasus and, as a consequence, the catastrophe near Sinop. The problem of defusing the situation was simplified already when Nicholas I, realizing that the Russian-Turkish conflict could not be isolated, and, seeing the silhouette of the forming coalition against Russia, began in May 1853 a diplomatic retreat along the entire front, albeit to the detriment of his pride. To achieve a peaceful detente from Britain and France, it was not even necessary to counter efforts, but very little: not to interfere with the tsar's pursuit of an understandable one. However, they tried to block this path for him.
Before and after Sinop, the question of war or peace depended more on London and Paris than on Petersburg. And they made their choice, preferring to see in the victory of Russian weapons what they had been looking for so long and ingeniously - the opportunity to throw a cry for the salvation of "defenseless" Turkey from "insatiable" Russia. The Sinop events, presented to European society from a certain angle through well-functioning information filters, played a prominent role in the ideological preparation of the entry of Western countries into the war.
The idea of "curbing" Russia, into which Britain and France have clothed their far from disinterested thoughts, fell on the fertile soil of the anti-Russian sentiments of the European, especially the British, philistine. For decades, the image of "greedy" and "assertive" Russia was cultivated in his mind, distrust and fear of her were brought up. At the end of 1853, these Russophobic stereotypes came in handy for the governments of the West: they could only pretend that they were forced to obey an angry crowd to save their face.
There is some truth in the well-known metaphor "Europe drifted towards war", which contains a hint of factors beyond the control of people. At times, there really was a feeling that efforts to achieve a peaceful outcome were inversely proportional to the chances of averting war. And yet this "inexorable drift" was helped by living characters of history, on whose views, actions and characters a lot depended. The same Palmerston was obsessed with hatred of Russia, which often turned him from a deeply pragmatic politician into a simple English man in the street, to whom the Russophobic nonsense of journalists acted like a red rag on a bull. Occupying the post of Minister of Internal Affairs in the government of Aberdin from February 1852 to February 1855, he did everything to deprive Nicholas I of the opportunity to save face, and so that the eastern crisis of the early 1850s grew first into the Russian-Turkish war, and then into Crimean.
Immediately after the entry of the allied fleet into the Black Sea, the Anglo-French squadron of six steamers, together with six Turkish ships, delivered reinforcements, weapons, ammunition and food to Trebizond, Batum and the post of St. Nicholas. The establishment of the blockade of the Russian Black Sea ports was presented to Petersburg as a defensive action.
Nicholas I, who did not understand such logic, had every reason to come to the conclusion that an open challenge was thrown to him, to which he simply could not but respond. The most surprising thing, perhaps, is that even in this situation, the Russian emperor is making a last attempt to maintain peace with Britain and France, more like a gesture of despair. Overcoming the feeling of indignation, Nicholas I notified London and Paris of their readiness to refrain from interpreting their action as actually entering the war on the side of Turkey. He suggested that the British and French officially declare that their actions are aimed at neutralizing the Black Sea (that is, at not spreading the war to its water area and coast) and therefore equally serve as a warning to both Russia and Turkey. This was an unprecedented humiliation for the ruler of the Russian Empire in general and for such a person as Nicholas I in particular. One can only guess what such a step cost him. A negative response from Britain and France was tantamount to a slap on the arm extended for reconciliation. The tsar was denied the very least - the ability to save face.
Someone who, and the British, sometimes pathologically sensitive to the protection of the honor and dignity of their own state, should have understood what they had done. What reaction could the British diplomatic system expect from Nicholas I, not the most senior representatives of which, accredited in the countries of the Near and Middle East, had the official authority to call their navy to punish those who dare to offend the English flag? Some British consul in Beirut could afford to resort to this right because of the slightest incident in which he liked to see the fact of humiliation of his country.
Nicholas I did what any self-respecting monarch should have done in his place. Russian ambassadors were recalled from London and Paris, British and French ambassadors from Petersburg. In March 1854, the naval powers declared war on Russia, after which they received the legal right to help the Turks and deploy full-scale military operations, including in the Caucasus.
There is no answer to the question whether there was an alternative to the Crimean War and which one. It will never appear, no matter how much we succeed in "correct" modeling of certain retrospective situations. This, however, in no way means that the historian does not have the professional right to study the failed scenarios of the past.
It has. And not only the right, but also the moral obligation to share with the modern society in which he lives physically, his knowledge about the disappeared societies in which he lives mentally. This knowledge, regardless of how much it is in demand by the current generation of rulers of world destinies, should always be available. At least in the case when and if the powerful of this world ripen to understand the usefulness of the lessons of history and ignorance in this area.
No one, except the historian, is able to clearly explain that peoples, states, humanity periodically find themselves in front of big and small forks in the road to the future. And for various reasons, they do not always make a good choice.
The Crimean War is one of the classic examples of just such an unsuccessful choice. The didactic value of this historical plot is not only in the fact that it happened, but also in the fact that under a different confluence of subjective and objective circumstances, it probably could have been avoided.
But the most important thing is different. If today, in the event of regional crises or pseudo-crises, the leading global players do not want to hear and understand each other, clearly and honestly agree on the compromise boundaries of their intentions, adequately assess the meaning of words and believe in their sincerity, without conjecturing chimeras, events will start to get out of hand. control in the same "strange" and fatal way as in 1853. With one significant difference: there will most likely be no one to regret the consequences and fix them.
