My adventures as a German secret agent

“American intervention in Mexico would mean another Ireland, another Poland—another sore spot in the world. Well, why not?”

Those were almost the last words spoken to me when I left Germany in 1914, upon my ill-fated mission to England. I had in my pocket at the moment detailed memoranda of instructions which, if they could be carried out, would insure such disturbances in Mexico that the United States would be compelled to intervene. I had been given authority to spend almost unlimited sums of money for the purchase of arms, for the bribery of officials—for anything in fact that would cause trouble in Mexico. And the words I have quoted were not spoken by an uninformed person with a taste for cynical comment; they were uttered by Major Köhnemann, of Abteilung III B of the German General Staff. They form a lucid and concrete explanation of German activities in Mexico during the past eight years.

Long before this war began German agents were at work in Mexico, stirring up trouble in the hope of causing the United States to intervene. I have already told how, in 1910 and 1911, Germany had encouraged Japan and Mexico in negotiating a treaty that was to give Japan an important foothold in Mexico. I have told how, after this treaty was well on the way to completion, Germany saw to it that knowledge of the projected terms was brought to the attention of the United States—thereby indirectly causing Diaz’s abdication. That instance is not an isolated case of Germany meddling in Mexican affairs. Rather is it symptomatic of the traditional policy of Wilhelmstrasse in regard to America.

It may be well to examine this policy more closely than I have done. Long ago Germany saw in South America a fertile field for exploitation, not only in a commercial way, in which it presented excellent opportunities to German manufacturers, but also as a possible opportunity for expansion which had been denied her elsewhere. All of the German colonies were in torrid climates, in which life for the white man was attended with tremendous hardships and exploitation and colonization were consequently impeded. Only in the Far East and in South America could she find territories either unprotected through their own weakness, or so thinly settled that they offered at once a temptation and an opportunity to the nation with imperialistic ambitions. In the former quarter she was blocked by a concert of the Powers, many of them actuated by similar aims, but all working at such cross purposes that aggression by any one of them was impossible. I have already alluded to the result of such a situation in my discussion of the Anglo-Persian Agreement. In South America there was only one formidable obstacle to German expansion—the Monroe Doctrine.

I am stating the case with far less than its true complexity. There were, it is true, many facts in the form of conflicting rivalries of the Powers as well as internal conditions in South America, that would have had a deterrent effect upon the German program. Nevertheless, it is certain that the prime factor in keeping Germany out of South America was the traditional policy of the United States; and, so far as the German Government’s attitude in the matter is concerned, it is the only phase of the problem worth considering.

Germany had no intention of securing territory by a war of conquest. Her method was far simpler and much less assailable. She promptly instituted a peaceful invasion of various parts of the continent; first in the persons of merchants who captured trade but did not settle permanently in the country; second, by means of a vast army of immigrants, who, unlike those who a generation before had come to the United States, settled, but retained their German citizenship. With this unnaturalized element she hoped to form a nucleus in many of the important South American countries, which, wielding a tremendous commercial power and possessing a political influence that was considerable, although indirect, would aid her in determining the course of South American politics so that by a form of peaceful expansion she could eventually achieve her aims.

Was this a dream? At any rate it received the support of many of the ablest statesmen of Germany, who duly set about the task of discrediting the Monroe Doctrine in the eyes of the very people it was designed to protect, so that the United States, if it ever came forcibly to defend the Doctrine, would find itself opposed not only by Germany but by South America as well.

Now, the easiest way to cast suspicion upon a policy is to discredit the sponsor of it. In the case of the United States and South America this was not at all difficult; for the southern nations already possessed a well defined fear and a dislike of their northern neighbor that were not by any means confined to the more ignorant portions of the population. Fear of American aggression has been somewhat of a bugaboo in many quarters. Recognizing this, Germany, which has always adopted the policy of aggravating ready-made troubles for her own ends, steadily fomented that fear by means of a quiet but well-conducted propaganda, and also by seeking to force the United States into taking action that would justify that fear.

As a means toward securing this latter end, Mexico presented itself as a heaven-sent opportunity. Even in the days when it was, to outward eyes, a well-ordered community, there had been men in the United States who had expressed themselves in favor of an expansion southward which would result in the ultimate absorption of Mexico; and although such talk had never attracted much attention in the quarter from which it emanated, there were those who saw to it that proposals of this sort received an effective publicity south of the Isthmus. Given, then, a Mexico in which discontent had become so acute that it was being regarded with alarm by American and foreign investors, the possibility of intervention became more immediate and the opportunity of the trouble-maker increased proportionately.

Germany’s first step in this direction, was, as you know, the encouragement of a Japanese-Mexican alliance, the failure of which was a vital part of her program. It was a risky undertaking, for if, by any chance, the alliance were successfully concluded, the United States might well hesitate to attack the combined forces of the two countries; and Mexico, fortified by Japan, would present a bulwark against the real or fancied danger of American expansion, that, for a time at least, would effectually allay the fears of South America. That risk Germany took, and insofar as she had planned to prevent the alliance scored a success. That she failed in her principal aim was due to the anti-imperialistic tendencies of the United States and the statesmanship of Señor Limantour, rather than to any other cause.

Then came the Madero Administration with its mystical program of reform—and an opposition headed by almost all of the able men in the republic, both Mexican and foreign. Bitterly fought by the ring of Cientificoes, who saw the easy spoils of the past slipping from their hands; distrusted by many honest men, who sincerely believed that Mexico was better ruled by an able despot than by an upright visionary; hampered by the aloofness of foreign business and governments, waiting for a success which they alone could insure, before they should approve and support; and constantly beset with uneasiness by the incomprehensible attitude of the Taft Administration and of its Ambassador—the fate of the Madero Government was easily foreseen.

Before Madero had been in power for three months this opposition had taken form as a campaign of obstruction in the Mexican Chamber of Deputies, supported by the press, controlled almost exclusively by the Cientificoes and by foreign capitalists; by the clergy, who had reason to suspect the Government of anti-clerical tendencies; and by isolated groups of opportunity seekers who saw in the Administration an obstacle to their own political and economic aims. The Madero family were represented as incompetent and self-seeking; and in a short time the populace, which a month before had hailed the new government as a savior of the country, had been persuaded that its program of economic reform had been merely a political pretense, and accordingly added its strength to the party of the Opposition.

Here was tinder aplenty for a conflagration of sorts. Germany applied the torch at its most inflammable spot.

That inflammable spot happened to be a man—Pazcual Orozco. Orozco had been one of Madero’s original supporters, and in the days of the Madero revolution had rendered valuable services to his chief. An ex-muleteer, uncouth and without education, he possessed considerable ability; but his vanity and reputation were far in excess of his attainments. Unquestionably he had expected that Madero’s success would mean a brilliant future for himself, although it is difficult to tell in just what direction his ambitions pointed. Madero had placed him in command of the most important division of the Federal army, but this presumably did not content him. At any rate, early in February, 1912, he made a demand upon the Government for two hundred and fifty thousand pesos, threatening that he would withdraw from the services of the Government unless this “honorarium”—honesty would call it a bribe—were paid to him. Madero refused his demand, but with mistaken leniency retained Orozco in office—and on February 27, Orozco repaid this trust by turning traitor at Chihuahua, and involving in his defection six thousand of Mexico’s best troops as well as a quantity of supplies.

Now mark the trail of German intrigue. In Mexico City, warmly supporting the Madero Government, but of little real power in the country, was the German Minister, Admiral von Hintze. Under normal circumstances, his influence would have been of great value in helping to render secure the position of Madero; but with means of communication disrupted as they were to a large extent, his power was inconceivably less than that of the German consuls, all of whom were well liked and respected by the Mexicans with whom they were in close touch. Apart from their political office, these men represented German business interests in Mexico, particularly in the fields of hardware and banking. In the three northern cities of Parral, Chihuahua and Zacatecas, the German consuls were hardware merchants. In Torreon the consul was director of the German bank. As such it would seem that it was to their interests to work for the preservation of a stable government in Mexico. And yet the fact remains that when Orozco first began to show signs of discontent, these men encouraged him with a support that was both moral and financial; and when the general finally turned traitor, it was my old friend, Consul Kueck, who, as President of the Chamber of Commerce of Chihuahua, voted to support him and to recognize Orozco’s supremacy in that State!

I leave it to the reader to decide whether it was the Minister or the consuls who really represented the German Government.

It would be idle to attempt to trace more than in the briefest way Germany’s part in the events of the next few years. Always she followed a policy of obstruction and deceit. During the months immediately succeeding the Orozco outbreak, at the very moment that von Hintze was lending his every effort to the preservation of the Madero regime, sending to Berlin reports which over and over again reiterated his belief that Madero could, if given a free hand, restore order in the republic, the German consuls were openly fomenting disorder in the North.

They were particularly well equipped to make trouble, by their position in the community and by the character and reputation of the rest of the German population. It may be said with safety that however careless Germany has been about the quality of the men whom she has allowed to emigrate to other countries, her representatives throughout all of Latin-America have been conspicuous for their commercial attainments and for their social adaptability. This, in a large way has been responsible for the German commercial success in Central and South America. As bankers they have been honest and obliging in the matter of credit. As merchants they have adapted themselves to the local conditions and to the habits of their customers with notable success. In consequence they have been well-liked as individuals and have been of immense value in increasing the prestige of the German Empire. In Mexico they were the only foreigners who were not disliked by either peon or aristocrat; and it is significant to note that during seven years of unrest in that country, Germans alone among peoples of European stock have remained practically unmolested by any party.

Consider of what service this condition was in their campaign. Respected, influential, they were in an excellent position to stimulate whatever anti-American feeling existed in the Latin American countries. At the same time, they were equally well situated to encourage the unrest in Mexico that would be the surest guarantee of American intervention—and the coalition against the United States which intervention would be certain to provoke. They made the utmost use of their advantage, and they did it without arousing suspicion or rebuke.

After the failure of the short-lived Orozco outbreak, events in Mexico seemed to promise a peaceful solution of all difficulties. Many of Madero’s opponents declared a truce, and the irreconcileables were forced to bide their time in apparent harmlessness. In November came the rebellion of Felix Diaz, fathered by a miscellaneous group of conspirators who hoped to find in the nephew sufficient of the characteristics of the great Porfirio to serve their purposes. This venture failed also. Again Madero showed a mistaken leniency in preserving the life of Diaz. He paid for it with his life. Out of this uprising came the coup d’etat of General Huerta—made possible by a dual treachery—and the murder of the only man who at the time gave promise of eventually solving the Mexican problem.

What share German agents had in that tragic affair I do not know. You may be sure that they took advantage of any opportunity that presented itself to encourage the conspirators in a project that gave such rich promise of aiding them in their purposes. I pass on to the next positive step in their campaign. That was a repetition of their old plan of inserting the Japanese question into the general muddle.

The Japanese question in Mexico is a very real one. I know—and the United States Government presumably knows, also—that Japan is the only nation which has succeeded in gaining a permanent foothold in Mexico. I know that spies and secret agents in the guise of peddlars, engineers, fishermen, farmers, charcoal burners, merchants and even officers in the armies of every Mexican leader have been scattered throughout the country. The number of these latter I have heard estimated at about eight hundred; at any rate it is considerable. There are also about ten thousand Japanese who have no direct connection with Tokio but who are practically all men of military age, either unmarried or without wives in Mexico—most of them belonging to the army or navy reserve. And, like the Germans, the Japanese never lose their connection with the Government in their capacity as private individuals.

Through the great government-owned steamship line, the Toyo Kisen Kaisha, the Japanese Government controls the land for a Japanese coaling station at Manzanilla. At Acapulco a Japanese company holds a land concession on a high hill three miles from the sea. It is difficult to see what legitimate use a fishing company could make of this location. It is, however, an ideal site for a wireless station. In Mexico City an intimate friend of the Japanese Chargé d’Affaires owns a fortress-like building in the very heart of the capital. Another Japanese holds, under a ninety-nine year lease, an L-shaped strip of land partly surrounding and completely commanding the water works of the capital of Oxichimilco. The land is undeveloped. Both of these Japanese are well supplied with money and have been living in Mexico City for several years. Neither one has any visible means of support. And in all of the years of revolution in Mexico no Japanese have been killed—except by Villa. He has caused many of them to be executed, but always those that were masquerading as Chinese. Naturally a government cannot protest under such circumstances.

These facts may or may not be significant. They serve to lend color to the convictions of anti-Japanese agitators in the United States, and as such they have been of value to Germany. Accordingly it was suggested to Señor Huerta that an alliance with Japan would be an excellent protective measure for him to take.

Huerta had two reasons for looking with favor upon this proposal. He was very decidedly in the bad graces of Washington, and he was constantly menaced by the presence in Mexico of Felix Diaz, to whom he had agreed to resign the Presidency. Diaz was too popular to be shot, too strong politically to be exiled and yet—he must be removed. Here, thought Huerta, was an opportunity of killing two birds with one stone. He therefore sent Diaz to Japan, ostensibly to thank the Japanese Government for its participation in the Mexican Centennial celebration, three years before, but in reality to begin negotiations for a treaty which should follow the lines of the one unsuccessfully promulgated in 1911.

Señor Diaz started for Japan—but he never arrived there. Somehow the State Department at Washington got news of the proposed treaty—how, only the German agents know—and Señor Diaz’s course was diverted.

Meanwhile, in spite of the strained relations between Huerta and Washington, Germany was aiding the Mexican president with money and supplies. In the north, Consuls Kueck of Chihuahua, Sommer of Durango, Muller of Hermosillo, and Weber of Juarez were exhibiting the same interest in the Huertista troops that they had formerly displayed toward Orozco. Kueck, as I happened to learn later, had financed Salvator Mercado, the general who had so obligingly tried to have me shot; and at the same time he was assiduously spreading reports of unrest in Mexico, and even attempted to bribe some Germans to leave the country, upon the plea that their lives were in danger.

When I raided the German Consulate at Chihuahua, I found striking documentary proof of his activities in this direction. There were letters there proving that he had paid to various Germans sums ranging as high as fifty dollars a month, upon condition that they should remain outside of Mexico. These letters, in many cases, showed plainly that this was done in order to make it seem that the unrest was endangering the lives of foreign inhabitants; in spite of which several of the recipients complained that their absence from Mexico was causing them considerable financial loss, and showed an evident desire to brave whatever dangers there might be—if they could secure the permission of Consul Kueck.

During the year and more that Huerta held power, Germany followed the same tactics. I need not remind you of the attempt to supply Huerta with munitions after the United States had declared an embargo upon them; or that it has been generally admitted that the real purpose of the seizure of Vera Cruz by United States marines was to prevent the German steamer Ypiranga from delivering her cargo of arms to the Mexicans. That is but one instance of the way in which German policy worked—a policy which, as I have indicated, was opposed to the true interests of Mexico, and has been solely directed against the United States. Up to the very outbreak of the war it continued. After Villa’s breach with Carranza, emissaries of Consul Kueck approached the former with offers of assistance. Strangely enough he rejected them, principally because he hates the Germans for the assistance they gave his old enemy, Orozco. Villa had, moreover, a personal grudge against Kueck. When General Mercado was defeated at Ojinaga, papers were found in his effects that implicated the Consul in a conspiracy against the Constitutionalists, although at the time Kueck professed friendship for Villa and was secretly doing all he could to increase the friction that existed between the general and Mercado. Villa had sworn vengeance against the double-dealer; and Kueck, in alarm, fled into the United States.

With the outbreak of the Great War the situation changed in one important particular. Heretofore, German activities had been part of a plan of attack upon the prestige of the United States. Now they became necessary as a measure of defense. Before two months had passed it became evident to the German Government that the United States must be forced into a war with Mexico in order to prevent the shipment of munitions to Europe.

So began the last stage of the German intrigue in Mexico—an intrigue which still continues. As a preliminary step, Germany had organized her own citizens in that country into a well-drilled military unit—a little matter which Captain von Papen had attended to during the spring of 1914. One can read much between the lines of the report sent to the Imperial Chancellor by Admiral von Hintze, commenting upon the work of Captain von Papen in this direction. The Admiral says in part: “He showed especial industry in organizing the Germany colony for purposes of self-defense, and out of this shy and factious material, unwilling to undertake any military activity, he obtained what there was to be got.”

Von Hintze significantly recommends that the captain should be decorated with the fourth class of the Order of the Red Eagle.

As I have stated elsewhere, I left Germany in October of 1914, with a detailed plan of campaign for the “American front,” as Dr. Albert once put it. My final instructions were simple and explicit.

“There must be constant uprisings in Mexico,” I was told, in effect. “Villa, Carranza, must be reached. Zapata must continue his maraudings. It does not matter in the least how you produce these results. Merely produce them. All consuls have been instructed to furnish you with whatever sums you need—and they will not ask you any questions.”

Rather complete, was it not? I left with every intention of carrying the instructions out—and in a little over a week was made hors de combat. It was then that von Rintelen, who had already planned to come over to the United States in order to inaugurate a vast blockade running system, undertook to add my undertaking to his own responsibilities.

What von Rintelen did is well known, so I shall only summarize it here. His first act was an attempted restitution of General Huerta, which he knew was the most certain method of causing intervention. Into this enterprise both Boy-Ed and von Papen were impressed, and the three men set about the task of making arrangements with former Huertistas for a new uprising to be financed by German money. They sent agents to Barcelona to persuade the former dictator to enter into the scheme; and finally, when the general was on his way to America, they attempted to arrange it so that he should arrive safely in New York and ultimately in Mexico. It was a plan remarkably well conceived and well executed. It would have succeeded but for one thing. General Huerta was captured by the United States authorities at the very moment that he tried to cross from Texas into Mexico!

But the indomitable von Rintelen was not discouraged. He had but one purpose—to make trouble—and he made it with a will. He sent money to Villa, and then, like the philanthropist in Chesterton’s play, supported the other side by aiding Carranza, financing Zapata and starting two other revolutions in Mexico. Meanwhile anti-American feeling continued to be stirred up. German papers in Mexico presented the Fatherland’s case as eloquently as they did elsewhere, and to a far more appreciative audience. Carranza was encouraged in his rather unfriendly attitude toward Washington. In a word, no step was neglected which would embarrass the Wilson Administration and make peace between the two countries more certain or more difficult to maintain.

Need I complete the story? Is it necessary to tell how, after the recall of von Papen and Boy-Ed and the escape of von Rintelen, Mexico continued to be used as the catspaw of the German plotters? Every one knows the events of the last few months; of the concentration of German reservists in various parts of Mexico; of the bitter attacks made upon the United States by pro-German newspapers; and of the reports, greatly exaggerating German activities in Mexico, which have been circulated with the direct intention of provoking still more ill-feeling between the two countries by leading Americans to believe that Mexico is honey-combed with German conspiracies.

These activities have not applied to Mexico alone. It is significant that twice in February of this year the Venezuelan Government has declined to approve of the request of President Wilson that other neutral nations join him in breaking diplomatic relations with Germany as a protest against submarine warfare, and that many Venezuelan papers have stated that this refusal is due to the representations of resident Germans, who are many and influential. These are, of course, legitimate activities, but they are in every case attended by a threat. Revolutions are easily begun in Latin America, and the obstinate government can always be brought to a reasonable viewpoint by the example of recent uprisings or revolutions, financed by Germany, in Costa Rica, Peru and Cuba. Within a very recent time, rumors were afloat in Venezuela that Germany was assisting General Cipriano Castro in the revolutionary movement that he had been organizing in Porto Rico. It was reported that there were on the Colombian frontier many disaffected persons who would gladly join Castro if he landed in Colombia and marched on Caracas, as he did successfully in 1890.

For several years the Telefunken Co., a German corporation, has tried to obtain from the Venezuelan Government a concession to operate a wireless plant, which should be of greater power than any other in South America. When this proposal was last made, certain ministers were for accepting it, but the majority of the Government realized the uses to which the plant could be put and refused to grant the concession. An alternative proposal, made by the Government, to establish a station of less strength, was rejected by the company.

Germany has steadily sought such wireless sites throughout this region. Several have been established in Mexico, and in 1914 it was through a wireless station in Colombia, that the German Admiral von Spee was enabled to keep informed of the movements of the squadron of Admiral Sir Christopher Cradock—information which resulted in the naval battle in Chilean waters with a loss of three British battleships. It was after this battle that Colombia ordered the closing of all wireless stations on its coasts.

In Cuba, too, the hand of Germany has been evident, in spite of the disclaimers which have been made by both parties in the recent rebellion. That rebellion grew out of the contested election in November, in which both President Menocal and the Liberal candidate, Alfredo Zayas, claimed a victory. It is strange if this is the real cause of the uprising, that hostilities did not begin until February 9, when General Gomez, himself an ex-president, began a revolt in the eastern portion of the island. The date is important; it was barely a week before new elections were to be held in two disputed provinces and only six days after the United States had severed diplomatic relations with the German Government, and but four days after President Menocal’s Government had declared its intention of following the action of the United States.

A little study of the personnel and developments of the rebellion form convincing evidence as to its true backing. The Liberal Party is strongly supported by the Spanish element of the population, who are almost unanimously pro-German in their sympathies. All over the island, both Germans and Spaniards have been arrested for complicity in the uprising. Nor have the clergy escaped. Literally, dozens of bishops have been jailed in Havana, upon the same charges.

It is also a notorious fact that the Mexicans have supported the Liberals, and that the staffs of the Liberal newspapers are almost exclusively composed of Mexican journalists. These newspapers were suppressed at the beginning of the revolution.

But far more significant are the developments in the actual fighting.

Most of the action has taken place in the eastern provinces of Camaguey, Oriente and Santa Clara—in which the most fertile fields of sugar cane are situated. The damage to the cane fields has been estimated at 5,000,000 tons and is, from a military standpoint, unnecessary.

Col. Rigoberto Fernandez one of the revolutionary leaders, stated that the rebels were plentifully supplied with hand-grenades and artillery—although the reports prove that they had none. Was this an empty boast—or may there be a connection between Fernandez’s statement and the capture by the British of three German ships, which were found off the Azores, laden with mines and arms?

I was in Havana in the latter part of March—upon a private errand, although the Cuban papers persisted in imputing sinister designs to me. Naturally, the Germans were not inclined to tell all their secrets, but my Mexican acquaintances, all of whom were well informed regarding Cuban affairs, gave me considerable information. Among other Mexicans I met General Joaquin Maas, the former general of the Federal forces under Huerta. The general has since made peace with Carranza and was at this time acting as the latter’s go-between in negotiations with Germany. When I last saw Maas, it was after the battle of El Paredo. He was about to blow out his brains, but one of his lieutenants elegantly informed him that he was a fool and dissuaded him from suicide. Maas received me with the courtesy due a former opponent and was not averse to telling me much about the situation. I also had ample occasion to speak with Spaniards, whose sympathies were decidedly pro-German. Little by little I was enabled to acquire a rather complete idea—not of the issues underlying the Cuban revolution—but who had brought matters to a head. The answer may be found in one word—Germany. German agents—notably one Dr. Hawe ben Hawas, who recently took a mysterious botanizing expedition throughout that part of Cuba, which later became the scene of revolutionary activities, and who has thrice been arrested as a German spy—saw in the political unrest of the country another opportunity to create a diversion in favor of Germany. Cuba at peace was a valuable economic ally of the United States. Cuba in rebellion was a source of annoyance to this country, since it meant intervention, the political value of which was unfavorable to the United States, and a serious loss in sugar, which is one of the most important ingredients in the manufacture of several high explosives.

Hence the burning of millions of tons of sugar cane. Hence the rebel seizure of Santiago de Cuba. Hence the large number of negroes who joined the rebel army, and whose labor is indispensable in the production of sugar.

The ironic part of it all is that Germany had nothing to gain by a change of government in Cuba. Any Cuban government must have a sympathetic attitude toward the United States. What Germany wanted was a disruption of the orderly life of the country—and she wanted it to continue for as long a time as possible.

At the present writing the Cuban rebellion is ended. General Gomez and his army have been captured, President Menocal is firmly seated in power again, and the rebels hold only a few unimportant points. But much damage has been done in the lessening of the sugar supply—and the rebellion has also served its purpose as an illustration of Germany’s ability to make trouble.

Germany has played a consistent game throughout. She has sought to use all the existing weaknesses of the world for her own purposes—all the rivalries, all the fears, all the antipathies, she has utilized as fuel for her own fire. And yet, although she has played the game with the utmost foresight, with a skill that is admirable in spite of its perverse uses, and with an unfailing assurance of success—she has come to the fourth year of the Great War with the fact of failure staring her in the face.

But she has not given up. You may be sure that she has not given up.