THE FIRST WORLD WAR (1914–1919) has been labeled “the war to end all wars.” In fact, it may have been better described as “the war that forgot all wars.” Whether we look at the catastrophic decisions that led to the outbreak of war or at the structure of the flawed peace agreements that followed, we discover the tragic consequences of faded memories and of lessons too easily forgotten. Much has been said about the mistakes made in the Paris negotiations at the end of WWI, especially regarding how the treatment of defeated Germany likely played an important role in Germany’s march towards instigating World War II. Of course, we sit in the privileged position of the future, making such judgments with the clarity of hindsight. Surely, if the victors had the ability to know better, they would have negotiated a different agreement. Alas, they did know better—and it did not help.
The hundred years of history prior to WWI were particularly notable for the relative absence of continental conflict in Europe. There were conflicts, to be sure, but none had escalated to the point of sustained multilateral wars with massive casualties. At least some of the credit for this goes to the negotiations that ended the previous great military conflict. The Napoleonic Wars had ended in 1814, and the victorious nations of Great Britain, Russia, Prussia, and Austria had come together in Vienna to decide the fate of defeated France.1 In much the same way, 105 years later, Great Britain, France, Italy, and the United States came together in Paris to decide the fate of Germany. In each case, the defeated nation was seen as having been responsible for the destruction that had been caused by the war. In each case, most of the negotiations took place on one side of the table: the peace terms were largely decided by the victors and imposed on the defeated nation with little room for further bargaining. Yet, on at least one crucial dimension, the outcomes of these two negotiations could not have been more different.
How were the combatants in 1814 able to avoid the kinds of postwar turmoil that the peacemakers in 1919 seem to have encouraged? How do you stop a resurgence of the misdeeds and mistrust that have just led to a devastating war?
The Congress of Vienna (and a treaty signed earlier that year in Paris) had forced France to give up the land it had conquered in recent years, but it was allowed to return to its expansive borders of 1789. While appropriately considered the aggressor, France was not initially asked to pay war reparations, lest this burden lead the country to become so weak that it would tempt belligerence in the form of either future French aggression or the conquest of a weakened France by other nations. This policy changed when Napoleon restarted the war, after escaping from exile in 1815. After the second defeat, France was forced to pay reparations, which it did in full.2 Most importantly, in 1818, after France had made amends, it was invited to join the international community in what became known as the Concert of Europe. The multilateral conferences of the Concert of Europe were the closest thing to a United Nations or European Union that Europe would see until the next century.3 Despite having been the perpetrators of war, the French were given a seat at the table.
In contrast, a century later at the end of World War I, the Allies did not treat Germany so astutely. Ironically, but not surprisingly, given the mistrust and animosity that had been growing since at least the Franco-German War of 1870, it was the French who spearheaded the attack on Germany during the peace negotiations.4 When the smoke cleared, in addition to accepting severe restrictions on its military, Germany had to relinquish approximately 13% of its territory, 10% of its population, and all of its colonies outside of Europe.
The spirit of the deal can be best understood in two other key provisions. The first, Article 231 (AKA the “War Guilt Clause”), required the Germans to “accept the responsibility of Germany and her allies for causing all the loss and damage.” As such, Germany was expected to pay reparations to the tune of almost half a trillion dollars (in current dollars), a much higher amount than France had been required to pay in 1815, when measured as a percentage of GDP. But it was the second decision that was likely more consequential symbolically and substantively: disallowing Germany from joining the League of Nations, the precursor to the United Nations.
The German perspective on the take-it-or-be-invaded offer was perhaps best captured by Foreign Minister Brockdorff-Rantzau, who summarized the treaty as follows: “Germany surrenders all claims to its existence.”5
While there has been much debate over whether the Germans could have afforded to pay the reparations demanded of them—they quite possibly could have done so—the fact remains that these demands sowed the seeds for future conflict. However, as we can see in the case of France after the Napoleonic Wars, the imposition of even substantial reparations is not a sufficient condition for the outbreak of future conflict. Reparations and other punitive measures may increase the likelihood of conflict, but if there are structures and channels in place for peaceably managing residual or latent conflict, future wars may be avoidable. A potentially bigger mistake in dealing with Germany was not the reparations, but the isolation: the outcome fueled conflict while simultaneously limiting the possibility of managing conflict. Indeed, it is the isolation of the enemy, far more than a demand for reparations, that distinguishes the peace negotiations in Vienna from those in Paris.
Most influential delegates at the Congress of Vienna in 1814 shared a belief that it was imperative to be forward-looking. The statesmen in Vienna seemed to care more about preventing future wars than about punishing the perceived perpetrators of past wars. They acted to secure peace on behalf of future generations, not merely to exact vengeance on behalf of current victims. Most notably, by including France among the community of nations, and by creating a system in which the balance of power would not tip too strongly against the victors or against the defeated, the Europeans assured themselves a relatively long-lasting peace. It was not so in 1919.
The problem of underinvesting in continued engagement exists in all kinds of conflicts. When peace talks disintegrate, and especially if armed conflict flares up as a result, there is a tendency to break off all communication or negotiation rather than keep channels open to facilitate a future attempt at peacemaking. Then, even when future opportunities for deal making arise, there is a debilitating lack of information and understanding; the lack of investment in maintaining relationships makes subsequent agreements that much more difficult to achieve. In sports, at least historically, there has been a tendency among some negotiators to engage with each other only when a new collective bargaining agreement is on the horizon, rather than to build trust in the interim years. Similarly, the recent nuclear negotiations between the United States and Iran were hampered in no small part by the lack of relations over the previous decades. Some salespeople, too, will disengage with customers after a deal is signed (or when it fails), and reengage only when it is time to pitch the next deal.
A wiser strategy, in each instance, is to stay at the table, at least figuratively, if not physically, even when there is no visible prospect for a deal, or money to be made. Especially in the aftermath of “failed” negotiations, the natural tendency is for the relationship to further deteriorate, for trust to diminish, and for perspectives to diverge further. Continued engagement is crucial to keep relationships intact, audit the potentially changing interests and constraints of all parties, and explore the possibility of renewed negotiations. Also, it is often easier to obtain information and build trust when substantive negotiations are not under way, because there is less anxiety that sharing information will give the other side an advantage in a deal. My advice to deal makers is to stay engaged regardless of the outcome; there may come a time when the deal you reached can be improved, or the no deal you reached can be reversed.
In the case of WWI, it is not as if the potential problems with the peace deal were entirely unforeseen. Delegates from many countries openly worried that they had sown the seeds of future war. The notable exception was France, where some felt the terms were too lenient. A British officer at the time, Earl Wavell, described what occurred in 1919 with a touch of dark poetics: “After the ‘war to end war’ they seem to have been pretty successful in Paris at making the ‘peace to end peace.’”6 Why, despite such misgivings, did the treaty take the shape that it did?
One important reason was that the Germans were almost entirely excluded from the negotiations. In contrast, in 1814, the French had been given a seat at the table almost from the beginning, in no small part due to some brilliant maneuvering by the French diplomat (Talleyrand), although they had less of a voice than the other nations. In the absence of the German perspective in the room in 1919 (while the deal was being drafted), there was far too much momentum going against the Germans for far too long. There was simply no opposing force to balance the French demands. Not surprisingly, those with a seat at the negotiation table will sometimes ignore or even exploit the interests of those who are not represented. Indeed, a saying that has made the rounds in diplomatic and political circles gets right to the point: If you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu. In this case, the Germans were the appetizer, main course, and dessert.
The same holds true in all kinds of negotiations. Consider for example what typically happens in CBA negotiations in American sports. After months spent stubbornly resisting any calls for substantive concessions, the two sides eventually begin to move away from their opening positions. Which concessions do you think they make first? You do not need to know anything about sports, or even know which sport is being discussed, to be able to predict with great accuracy that one of the first big concessions that players will make is going to be related to rookie salaries and contracts. Why are the interests of rookies—the new players who are just entering the league—usually the first sacrifice made on the altar of collective bargaining? Because they are not at the table.
Wise negotiators do what they can to get a seat at the table. If that is not possible, there are other ways to influence what happens in a negotiation. In the 2011 NFL negotiations, for example, retired players did not have voting power in the negotiation, but they were able to influence the NFL Players Association and the league by using a sustained media campaign on retiree health concerns. More generally, if you have no formal role or leverage in the substantive negotiations, you may be able to influence those who do have control. Your leverage in these situations stems from your ability to help them from the outside. For example, they may have interests outside of the current deal that you can support in exchange for their support in the current negotiation. Or, they may need your help selling the current deal, as was the case with the retired players. If those at the table value your support or fear your opposition during the negotiation (or when it is time to ratify or sell the deal), you have leverage.
In his book Diplomacy, Henry Kissinger suggests a second reason why the peace negotiations in 1919 and 1814 took different shapes.7 In 1814, the memory of past wars was vivid. For the previous few centuries, Europeans had not gone more than a few years without seeing war break out among great European powers. The prospect of continued and escalating conflicts was considered real, even assured, unless great effort was made to prevent it. In 1919, in contrast, the Great War (WWI) was seen as more of an accident or an anomaly, rather than the rule. It seemed to demand explanation (How did it happen?), rather than effort (How to prevent it in the future?). What the negotiators did not fully appreciate was that the long era of peace that ended with WWI had been the product of careful “system building,” not an inevitable consequence of history’s quest towards enlightenment.
This is an all too common problem in negotiated agreements in long-term relationships. When the context of a deal is forgotten and memories have faded, it becomes difficult for future generations of negotiators to understand the logic behind the original deal and why it might make sense to retain it. Instead, the deal begins to look flawed or inappropriate and no longer relevant. According to Dr. Kissinger, this explains why the British, after a few decades of peace following the Congress of Vienna, started to step away from their role as guarantors of the balance of power in Europe; it explains why the Austrians, within two generations of the Congress of Vienna, began to risk the system of alliances on which their survival depended to pursue short-term gains and temptations; it explains why the Germans, who had now consolidated power, traded away their treaty with the Russians to woo the British. In each case, statesmen failed to see that they had purchased peace by paying what, in the absence of war, seemed like unnecessary costs. For example, the British saw peace and felt their investment in Europe was unnecessary, rather than viewing the peace as a consequence of their investment. Likewise, the Austrians and Germans failed to appreciate that the freedoms they enjoyed were rooted in the alliances that they were now ready to squander.
Let’s take this to a corporate context. Imagine a new CEO who walks into the office and finds that there have been no legal disputes in the last ten years and therefore decides that there is no longer any reason to invest in a legal team or in drafting contracts carefully with vendors and customers. Or, in sports, imagine a soccer team that discovers that the other team has not scored a single goal in the first half of the game and decides to pull the goalie for the second half. These decisions would be unthinkable. Unfortunately, in conflict environments, people will often make very similar decisions.
When “success” is not assessed in terms of a measurable “gain” but by the maintenance of a positive status quo (e.g., peace, continued cooperation, etc.), the causal link between effort and success may be unobservable. Without careful examination, it is not obvious what is keeping things on track. And if the policies designed to promote cooperation are costly—financially, politically, bureaucratically—there is a temptation to stop investing in them. Entropy ensues: in the absence of deliberate investment, relationships, institutions, and collaborative enterprises can all too easily deteriorate.
Companies seem to underinvest in strengthening stakeholder relationships when times are good, only to find they are short on goodwill when conflict arises. In the domain of armed conflict, the onset of insurgency is often preceded by political marginalization and procedural injustices perpetrated by a dominant group that seems to take the peaceful status quo for granted. In an entirely different context, the same principle might be useful in explaining why some in the United States have been caught up in the so-called anti-vaccination fad in recent years. Once a disease such as measles is largely eradicated and people do not have experience with the devastation it brings, it is easy to disparage the very vaccines that suppressed the disease and provided the comfort from which vaccine deniers wage their attacks. In each of these cases, the problem is not an unwillingness to invest in factors that sustain peace, nor is it the undervaluing of peace itself, but a failure to see how one leads to the other.
As with preparation, there is a wide disparity in how much negotiators focus on process. Some ignore it entirely; others strategize and negotiate process with incredible forethought. While we have seen the importance of negotiating process, this is not to say that you cannot overemphasize it. As the next chapter illustrates, there can be too much focus on process. When process takes on too much importance and becomes overladen with significance or symbolism, it can seriously damage prospects for substantive progress.