I can’t resist adding an IMO splendid “causes of WWI made [relatively] simple” passage from Ben Elton’s novel The First Casualty. It’s a conversation which takes place in 1917, in the course of a “comfort stop” made by a train of cattle-trucks which is slowly conveying a British army unit towards Ypres. The hero, Kingsley, has been charged with investigating a mysterious murder in the Western Front area with potential to be “political dynamite”. Though a well-educated middle-class guy; for the purpose of his mission he is trying, not very successfully, to pass himself off as an ordinary soldier.
With this being a conversation among a bunch of fed-up “other ranks” soldiers -- in the original, almost every other word is an obscenity. In the light of how JREF prefers things, I have cleaned up the language; and have abbreviated the passage a little.
“ ‘The question I always ask is, why did anyone care at all about this bleeding Archduke Ferdinand what’s-his-face in the first place?’ one fellow said. ‘I mean, come on, nobody had even heard of the twit till he got popped off. Now the entire world is fighting because of it.’
‘You dummy, that was just a spark, that was,’ another man admonished. ‘Europe was a tinder box, wasn’t it? Everyone knows that.’
‘Well, I don’t see as how he was even worth a spark, mate,’ the first man replied. ‘Like I say, who’d even heard of the jerk?’
A corporal weighed in to settle the matter.
‘Listen, it’s yer Balkans, innit? Always yer Balkans. Yer see, yer Austro-Hungarians –‘
‘Who are another bunch we never gave a damn about till all this kicked off,’ the first man interjected.
‘Shut up an’ you might learn something,’ the corporal insisted. ‘You’ve got your Austro-Hungarians supposed to be in charge of Bosnia but most of the Bosnians is Serbs, right, or at least enough of ‘em is to cause a t’do. Your Austrians ‘ave got Bosnia, right, but your Bosnians are backed by your Serbs, right? So when a Bosnian Serb shoots – ‘
‘A Bosnian or a Serb?’
A Bosnian and a bleeding Serb, you twerp. When this Bosnian Serb loony shoots Ferdinand who’s heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, the Austrians think, right, here’s a chance to put Serbia back in its bleeding box for good, so they give ‘em an ultimatum. They says, “You topped our Archduke so from now on you can bleeding knuckle under or else you’re for it.” Which would have been fine except the Serbs were backed by the Russians, see, and the Russians says to the Austrians, you has a go at Serbia, you has a go at us, right? But the Austrians is backed by the Germans who says to the Russians, you has a go at Austria, you has a go at us, right? Except the Russians is backed by the French who says to the Germans, you has a go at Russia, you has a go at us, right? And altogether they says kick off ! Let’s be having you ! And the ruck begins.’
‘What about us then?’ the first man enquired. The rest of the group seemed to feel that this was the crux of it.
‘Entente bleeding cordiale, mate,’ the corporal replied. 'We was backing the French except it wasn’t like an alliance – it was just, well, it was a bleeding entente, wasn’t it.'
‘An’ what’s an entente when it’s at home?’
‘It means we wasn’t obliged to fight.’
‘Never ! You mean we didn’t have to?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why on earth did we then?’
‘Freakin’ Belgium.’
‘Who could care less about Belgium?’
‘Well, you’d have thought no one, wouldn’t you? But we did. ‘Cos the German plan to get at the French was to go through Belgium, but we was guaranteeing ‘em, see. So we says to the Germans, you has a go at Belgium, you has a go at us. We’d guaranteed her, see. It was a matter of honour. So in we come.’
Kingsley could not resist interjecting.
‘Of course it wasn’t really about honour,’ he said.
‘Do what?’ queried the corporal.
‘Well, we’d only guaranteed Belgium because we didn’t want either Germany or France dominating the entire Channel coast. In the last century we thought that letting them both know that if they invaded Belgium they’d have us to deal with would deter them.’
‘But it didn’t.’
‘Sadly not.’
‘So what about the Italians, an’ the Japs, an’ the Turks, an’ the Yanks, eh? How did they end up in it?’ asked the original inquisitor.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the corporal. ‘I lost track after the Belgians.’ “