Gotowa bibliografia na temat „Bonds (Government), Great Britain, 1919”

This is a history of life after death—not the life of a disembodied soul, but of the body left behind in a prison yard, buried in quicklime. It is a history composed of family members, friends, politicians, and bureaucrats drawn into cooperation and conflict by the politics of rebellion, partition, and sexuality in Ireland and Great Britain. The deceased in dispute, Roger Casement, had been a controversial figure during the later years of his life, knighted by the British Crown in 1911 for his advocacy of humanitarian causes in Africa and South America and then hanged by the British government on 3 August 1916 for conspiring with Germany to mobilize and arm Irish separatists. Casement had requested that his body be buried at Murlough Bay, near his family's home in County Antrim in the province of Ulster. Instead, Casement's body was buried at Pentonville Prison in London, and for almost fifty years the British government rejected the appeals of Casement's family and supporters for the repatriation of his body to Ireland. In 1965, the body was finally exhumed and reinterred at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin, following a state funeral.Why did the British government take over fifty years to disinter Casement's body from Pentonville, and why was his request to be buried at Murlough Bay not honored? In exploring the answers to these questions, I focus on negotiations between the British and Irish governments, and the terms of their final agreement over the present location of Casement's remains.

The celebrated ‘Cambridge five’ have hitherto been believed to be the first long-term communist penetration agents in HM government, beginning with Donald Maclean in 1935. However, new research indicates that by 1919 another Cambridge man – like four of the ‘five’, a Trinity graduate – had already begun working for Moscow. This article is the first to examine how William Norman Ewer, known as ‘Trilby’ to his co-conspirators, organized networks in Great Britain and France to target the governments of those two powers. Under close Soviet supervision, Ewer's subordinates infiltrated half-a-dozen Whitehall departments, foremost among them Scotland Yard. Operating under the aegis of the home office, the Yard was a vital cog in the machinery of government set up to combat the ‘red menace’ in this country immediately after the First World War. By compromising the lead agency tasked with fighting them, the Bolsheviks thus created the requisite conditions for the metastasis in Great Britain of Soviet espionage in the 1920s.

This article analyzes the position of Great Britain towards the union of Bessarabia with the mother country, Romania, at the Paris Peace Conference of 1919-1920. It is emphasized that English diplomacy firmly supported Romania’s rights over its province between the Prut and Dniester, also formulating certain conditionalities that the Romanian government had to take into account. England had a primary role in the drafting and signing of the Paris Treaty of Bessarabia on October 28, 1920. Among the Great Powers that signed the Treaty, Great Britain was the first to ratify it in 1922, urging the rest of the signatories to follow suit.

The article focuses on the contradictions in the British regarding the continuation of military operations against the Soviet Republic at the end of 1919 and the participation of Estonia in the White struggle. Documents of British archives, and transcripts of proceedings of Parliament shows that after a series of military setbacks of the White forces, and the failure of formation with the direct pressure from the British military advisers of the government of the North-West Russia to create anti-Bolshevik coalition under the political control of the British commissioners in the Baltic countries, the mood in Parliament and the War Cabinet of Britain has changed. Speeches of liberal members of Parliament at the meetings of 1919-1920, note that the issue of concluding a Bolshevik-Estonian peace Treaty has become positively evaluated in wide circles of British society. Criticism of the «militarism» of the government became particularly acute after the peace of Tartu in January 1920, and the firmness of the Estonian government, which had making peace, was welcomed by a number of deputies. Minutes of meetings of the British Imperial War Cabinet and documents of the War Council also shows a shift from the policy of active involvement of the Baltic countries in the anti-Bolshevik struggle to recognition of the failure of this struggle and the impossibility of its revival by spending the financial and material resources, which were strongly necessary to solve other problems that arose in the British government after the end of the First world war.

This paper would like to analyze the development of study of International Relations in Indonesia which has progressed very rapidly. The science of lucrative International Relations since April 1919 in Britain and into Indonesian territory since the 1945�s, has been in great demand by the public, gaining a place in the hearts of the social scientific community, and contributing a lot to the foreign decision-making played by the government. Therefore, it is important to look at opportunities, challenges, and prospects for the development of International Relations studies in Indonesia to date.

AbstractFrom the end of the Great War to the onset of the Second World War, Great Britain and British India clashed over the Indian Army's role in imperial defence. Britain increasingly sought an imperial fighting force that it could deploy across the globe, but the government of India, limited by the growing independence movements, financial constraints, and—particularly—renewed tribal unrest on its North-West Frontier, refused to meet these demands. Attempts to reconcile Britain's and India's conflicting strategies made little headway until the late 1930s when compromise ultimately emerged with the establishment of the Expert Committee on the Defence of India 1938–39. While the Committee refuted India's traditional focus on the subcontinent's own security, importantly it recognized the necessity of British financial support for the Indian Army and the maintenance of a large local fighting force to prevent North-West Frontier unrest from disrupting imperial military planning at a time of global war.

The diplomatic documents from the U.S. Department of State stored at the National Archives of the USA in Washington and Republic of Armenia in Yerevan, which were officially published in volumes by the U.S. Government yet in 1931-1947, contain remarkable material on Cilicia. They throw light upon the negotiations between the leaders of the United States, Great Britain, France, Italy and delegations representing those countries at the 1919-1920 Paris International Peace Conference on political status and borders of Cilicia, establishment of a mandate for it, withdrawal of British troops from the region, occupation of Cilicia and Syria by French troops. The documents of the State Department reveal the contradictions between the Great Powers on the above-mentioned issues, describe their interests in the region. Records for the meetings of the Council of Ten of February 4, Council of Four of March 20, May 14, 21, 31 and Council of Five of July 18, August 25, 1919 are valuable from this point of view. The “Scheme for settlement in the Turkish Empire” of May 21, 1919, reflects the position of the Prime Minister of Great Britain D. Lloyd George on Cilicia. The U.S. President W. Wilson’s approaches concerning Cilicia are reflected in reports of the U.S. Commissioners in Turkey C. Crane and H. King of August 28, 1919, and the chief of the military mission to Armenia General J. Harbord of October 16, 1919. The difficulty of the Turkish border demarcation through Cilicia is presented in a note issued by the Allied Supreme Council on April 26, 1920, to U.S. Secretary of State B. Colby. The U.S. State Department diplomatic documents confirm that the Allies were practically not interested in resolving the issue of ensuring the security of Cilicia and its Armenian population. Based on the 1916 Sykes-Picot Anglo-French secret agreement, the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres provided for the transference of the mandate of Cilicia to France. It became the beginning of handing over the land to the Kemalist Turkey. Thus France, seeking to receive its state debt from Turkey, became an accomplice to the new genocide of Cilicia Armenians.

Using materials from Russian archives as well as from the Leeds Russian Archive (Great Britain), this article traces stages of activity of the Russian Political Delegation (RPD). The Delegation was established in 1919 by the Russian Political Meeting (RPM) in Paris for direct participation in the Versailles Peace Conference. Its activities were authorized by Admiral Kolchak, Supreme Ruler of Russia. The article covers the formation of the RPD, which included Prince Lvov, N. V. Tchaikovsky, V. A. Maklakov, and S. D. Sazonov. Due to circumstances beyond its control, the Delegation did not get the opportunity to participate in the conference, and its international activities were quite limited. However, after the dissolution of the Russian Political Meeting, the Russian Political Delegation continued its activities, claiming the status of the foreign center of a White Movement. Its ranks aggravated the split between public figures and the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Movement: social activists wanted the government of Omsk to remove S. D. Sazonov. Admiral Kolchak decided to retain control of his government over foreign missions, keep S. D. Sazonov as Minister, and asked the delegation to continue its work. In fact, in late 1919 and early 1920, the Russian Political Delegation managed to head the foreign mission of the White Movement. However, it was unable to cope with problems standing on its agenda. G. E. Lvov and N. V. Tchaikovsky, who used the situation of the Delegation members to influence affairs, diligently supported its existence. The last statements of the Russian Political Delegation refer to the end of 1920, the period of evacuation of the Wrangel’s army from Crimea. Analysis of the RPD’s activities provides an insight into challenges that in general were characteristic of the Movement and that eventually played their role in its defeat.

Abstract In 1919, the Forestry Commission of Great Britain embarked on a successful program of increasing Scotland's domestic wood supply by establishing plantations of nonnative conifers. Softwood plantation silviculture remains the cornerstone of Scottish forestry, but Scots are increasingly seeking a variety of nontimber benefits. Nonindustrial private landowners are planting native hardwoods for diversity, landscape, and heritage values, and the Forestry Commission is supporting their efforts through government policy, research, and cost-share programs. “Continuous cover forestry” is becoming a popular alternative to clearcutting; this silvicultural concept uses partial harvests and natural regeneration to transform even-aged, simply structured forests to multiaged, more structurally complex forests.

Abstract This article considers the breakdown in discipline in the British Army which occurred in Britain and on the Western Front during the process of demobilization at the end of the First World War. Many soldiers, retained in the army immediately after the Armistice, went on strike, and some formed elected committees, demanding their swifter return to civilian life. Their perception was that the existing demobilization system was unjust, and men were soon organized by those more politically conscious members of the armed forces who had enlisted for the duration of the war. At one stage in January 1919, over 50,000 soldiers were out on strike, a fact that was of great concern to the British civilian and military authorities who miscalculated the risk posed by soldiers. Spurred on by many elements of the press, especially the Daily Mail and Daily Herald, who both fanned and dampened the flames of discontent, soldiers’ discipline broke down, demonstrating that the patriotism which had for so long kept them in line could only extend so far. Though senior members of the government, principally Winston Churchill, and the military, especially Douglas Haig and Henry Wilson, were genuinely concerned that Bolshevism had ‘infected’ the army, or, at the very least, the army had been unionized, their fears were not realized. The article examines the government’s strategy regarding demobilization, its efforts to assess the risk of politicization and manage the press, and its responses to these waves of strikes, arguing that, essentially, these soldiers were civilians first and simply wanted to return home, though, in the post-war political climate, government fears were very real.

In the inter-war period Great Britain lost its pre-eminence in aviation. The new industries centered on civil aviation were not appropriately nurtured. The roots of this decline were in policies struck for military considerations in the pre 1914 period. The emergent institution of the war, the Air Ministry, continued the military priority. Civil Aviation was controlled by an essentially military institution. In the immediate post-war period airline development was inadequately subsidized. The government's chosen instrument, Imperial Airways, failed to nurture civil aviation development. Emergent national aspirations within the Empire and hostile and indifferent governments without frustrated airline route growth. Equally hampered by poor government stewardship was the manufacturing aspect of aviation.

The conclusion of the First World War brought the resumption of a struggle of a different sort: a battle between government and labor. Throughout 1919, government and labor squared off in a struggle over hours, wages, and nationalization. The Russian Revolution introduced the danger of the bolshevik contagion into the struggle. The first to enter into this conflict with the government were the shop stewards of Belfast and Glasgow. The struggle continued with the continued threats of the Triple Alliance and the police to destroy the power of the government through industrial action. This thesis examines the British labor movement during this revolutionary year in Europe, as well as the government's response to this new danger.

Anglo-Free State relations between the wars still awaits a comprehensive study ... This is in par a reflection of the larger failure of British historians to work on Anglo-Irish history '" the Right has been ill at ease dealing with Britan's greatest failure, whilst the Left has found tropical climes more suited for the cultivation of its moral superiority. When R.F.Holland made this apposite comment, just over a decade ago, he may have been adding to the very problems he identified. Writing within the context of the 'Commonweath Alliance', he was joining a distinguished list of British and Irish historians who have sought to fiter inter-war Anglo-Free State relations through the mesh of Empire-Commonweath development. Beginning with A. Berredale Keith in the 1920s, this usage continued in either direct or indirect form (by way of particular institutions of Commonweath) from the 1930s to the 1970s through the works of W.K. Hancock, Nicholas Mansergh and D.W. Harkness, and was still finding favour with Brendan Sexton's study of the Irish Governor-Generalship system in the late 1980s.2 But herein a contradiction has developed: cumulative study of the unnatural origins and performance of the Free State as a Dominion has moved beyond questions of function to ask whether the Free State was in fact ever a Dominion at alL. 3 As such, there seems ever more need to step back from inter-Commonwealth study and refocus on the precise nature of the Free State's central relationship with Britan in this period. It is of course acknowledged that outwith the established zones of internal Irish and Empire-Imperial study there is no home or forum for one of the most enduring quandares of modern Europea history. Even if it is accepted that 'pure' Anglo-Irish history did not end in 1922, the weight of research based on the ten yeas prior, as against the ten yeas subsequent, suggests an easy acceptance, on both sides of the Irish Sea, and Atlantic, of the absolute value changes in that relationship. Studies covering the transition to independence, such as those of Joseph M. CUITan and Sheila Lawlot, have taen only tentative steps beyond 1922, and may indeed have epitomised an approach that subsequent Irish studies have done little to dispel; in the 1980s, major overviews by RF. Foster and J.J. Le have been notably reluctant to evaluate the quality of that new found freedom with continuing reference to Ireland's giant neighbour. Though Foster, and others, have noted that the main aim of the Free State in the 1920s was 'self-definition against Britan', the point is the extent to which Britan was wiling to allow the same. There has then been little impetus for direct Anglo-Free State inter-war study, and although the tide has begun to turn since the mid-1980's, notably through the achievements of Paul Canning, Deidre McMahon and, shortly before his death, Nicholas Mansergh6, it is probable that we are stil a long way short of being able to produce a comprehensive and coherent review of the period. Apar from the crucial Anglo/Irish-Anglo/Commonwealth dichotomy,there remains the political chasm dividing the Cosgrave years of the 1920s from those of de Valera's 1930s; indeed the overwhelming preoccupation with post-1931 confrontations has often, as in the case of McMahon's fine study, taen as its contrasting staing point the supposedly compliant 'pro-Treaty' years of 1922-31. It is hard to bridge this gulf when the little direct work on these earlier years, mostly concentrating on the two fundamenta issues of Boundar and financial settlement, has tended not to question this divide. Although Irish historians have turned an increasingly sympathetic eye on the internal politics and problems of these early yeas, the apathetic external image, in contrast to the later period, has been persistent. Nowhere has this negativity been more apparent than on the, also vita, topic of defence relations. For a subject that has been given more than adequate attention in terms of the 1921 Treaty negotiations and the Treaty Ports issue of the 1930s, the period in between has had little intensive coverage. In this regard the negative response of W.K.Hancock in 1937, stating that Cosgrave did not bother to question British defence imperatives, was stil being held some fifty yeas later by Paul Canning.7 Thus an enduring and importt image has emerged of defence relations re-enforcing the above divide, an image that has had to stand for the lack of new reseach. This does not mea that the image is necessarly an entirely false one, but it does mean that many of the supposed novelties of the de Valera yeas have been built on largely unknown foundations. The Treaty Ports issue is also vita to this thesis, but then so are other defence related matters which had an impact specific to the 1920s. In other words, the human and political context of how both countries, but the Irish government in paricular, coped with the immediate legacy of centuries of armed occupation, with the recent 1916-21 conflct, and with the smaller scale continuity of British occupation, was bound to cast old shadows over a new relationship. But how big were these shadows? It was on the basis of placing some detaled flesh on the skeleton of known (and unknown) policies and events that this thesis took shape. Frustrations and resentments could tae necessarily quieter forms than those which characterised the 1930s, and in the end be no less significant. If the first objective is then to make solid the continuity of defence affairs, it is appropriate to begin with a brief evaluation of the Treaty defence negotiations before tang a close look at British operations in the South in 1922 - the year when a reluctant Cosgrave was to inherit a situation where British forces were close to the development of civil war. Despite our growing knowledge of Britan's part in the progress of that war, there is stil a general perception that its forces became peripheral to events after the Truce of July 1921, and that its Army was, and had been, the only British Service involved in the struggle against armed republicanism.This is simply not the case, and it is to be wondered whether the proper absorption of Irish historians with the internal dynamics of the period, together with the authoritative quality of Charles Townshend's history of the 1919-21 British campaign, have not produced inhibitions to wider inquiry. 8 In any event, as the Admiralty was to play a central par in later defence relations it seems right to introduce, for the first time, the Royal Navy's importt role in the events of 1922. The point here is to establish that the actions and perceptions of both Services were to have repercussions for later attitudes. After these chapters, the following two aim to look at the cumulative legacy of British involvement and how both countries adjusted to the many unresolved questions thrown up by the Treaty and the unplanned contingencies of 1922. Retaining the theme that neither country could escape the past, nor trust to the future, chapter six returns to the physical and political impact made by the continuing presence of British forces in and around the three Treaty Ports, and along and across the Border. The final two chapters explore how all these factors helped determine the conditions for, and consequences of, one of the most damaging episodes of the later 1920s - the complete failure of the joint coasta defence review scheduled for December 1926.In all, the cumulative emphasis on the politics of defence may ilustrate what it was to be a small aspiring country that had little choice but to accept Britan's version of what was an inevitably close relationship, and to endure what Britan claimed as the benign strategic necessity of continued occupation.

The early 1960s saw the biggest transformation of English higher education of the past hundred years. It is only matched by the break-up of the Oxbridge monopoly and the early Victorian reforms. It will be forever associated with the name of Lionel Robbins, whose great report came out in November 1963: he is for universities what Beveridge is for social security. His report exuded such authority and was associated with such a surge in the number of universities and of students that Robbins has given his name to key decisions which had already been taken even before he put pen to paper. In the 1950s Britain’s twenty-five universities received their funding from fees, endowments (invested in Government bonds which had largely lost their value because of inflation since the First World War), and ‘deficit funding’ from the University Grants Committee, which was a polite name for subsidies covering their losses. The UGC had been established in 1919 and was the responsibility not of the Education Department but the Treasury, which was proud to fund these great national institutions directly. Like museums and art galleries, higher education was rarefied cultural preservation for a small elite. Public spending on higher education was less than the subsidy for the price of eggs. By 1962 there were 118,000 full-time university students together with 55,000 in teacher training and 43,000 in further education colleges. This total of 216,000 full-time higher education students broadly matches the number of academics now. Young men did not go off to university—they were conscripted into the army. The annual university intake of around 50,000 young people a year was substantially less than the 150,000 a year doing National Service. The last conscript left the army in the year Robbins was published. Reversing the balance between those two very different routes to adulthood was to change Britain. It is one of the many profound differences between the baby boomers and the generation that came before them. Just over half of students were ‘county scholars’ receiving scholarships for fees and living costs from their own local authority on terms decided by each council.

Abstract On 5 August 1914 the Daily Herald carried a short and utterly bleak headline on its front page: ‘ENGLAND AND GERMANY AT WAR’. Underneath it was the official government statement: ‘His Majesty’s Ambassador to Berlin has received his passports, and His Majesty’s Government declared to the German Government that a state of war exists between Great Britain and Germany as from 11 p.m. on August 4th’.

In order to finance World War I, the British government sold war bonds to millions of investors and savers, thereby prompting a wider interest in financial securities including stocks and shares during the interwar period. Faced with a large intake of investment newcomers, the City of London was anxious of ‘amateur’ involvement in the market. The largest securities market, the London Stock Exchange, restricted access to small investors where possible, which pushed much of the new retail activity to the market fringes. Here, ‘outside brokers’ and ‘bucket shops’ catered for investment newcomers, the more gullible of which fell prey to fraudulent share pushers. Scholars have entirely overlooked this vibrant grey market for financial securities. But it was here—and not just at the organized exchanges—that ever more people made their first experiences with the ups and the downs of the stock market, most prominently in the great crash of 1929. This new perspective brings a sharper contour on some fundamental challenges that Britain’s financial landscape was facing in the interwar period: a large intake of new investors, a resurgence of financial fraud, and a new struggle over the distinction between speculation and gambling. The City’s response to these challenges can be described as financial paternalism. After a surge in political democratization, there was very little appetite to enfranchise ordinary people in the stock market. Instead, institutions like the Stock Exchange deliberately took a conservative stance on the ‘democratisation of investment’.

Abstract Owing in part to “improvements in communications,” Wight wrote, “the number of Great Powers … is getting smaller and smaller. … In 1919, for example, there were seven Great Powers: the victorious Big Five of the Peace Conference, America, Britain, France, Italy, and Japan; and then Germany, whom they had defeated, and Russia, whom Germany had defeated, both in a state of collapse, but both expected to resume their place as Great Powers in due course. … Now, today, only Russia and America would have any chance of being able to stand against the world without any allies at all. … Beneath the vertical conflict, so to speak, between the two blocs, there is a horizontal conflict throughout the world between the two ideologies. … On the Russian side this is seen negatively, in the extreme precaution taken against such penetration, … the care with which the Soviet citizen is screened from Western ideas, the persecution of bourgeois tendencies among Soviet artists.” … The United Nations has nonetheless become a forum to expose “the fundamental inconsistency of principle between Russia and the West on the question of whether displaced persons were to be treated as individuals with human rights or as the property of the government of the state from which they originally came.”

After the signing of the Mudros Armistice Treaty, the Entente states, based on the provisions of the treaty, first took control of Istanbul and then launched a navy in the Black Sea and started inspections in the coastal cities through the navy. Britain was the leading state that assumed an active role in the navy of the Entente states that started to control the Black Sea coasts and ports. The others were France and the USA respectively. The Italian navy was mostly active in the Mediterranean and the Aegean Sea. From 1919 onwards, the Greek navy also joined the control of the Entente states in the Black Sea. With the participation of the Greek navy, the British and Greek navies were sharing intelligence and information to control all movements on the Black Sea coast in cooperation. With Mustafa Kemal Pasha’s departure to Anatolia and the organization of the National Struggle movement, British-Greek cooperation continued to increase both on land and at sea. The route that the Ankara government, which was established after the opening of the Grand National Assembly of Turkey, could use for all kinds of military ammunition and materials for the war it conducted on Anatolian lands was the Black Sea ports. Therefore, at every stage of the war waged by the Turkish Grand National Assembly government on the western front after 1920, to prevent the military supply routes of the Ankara government, the British and Greek navies increased their activities in the Black Sea and wanted to control the ports and all kinds of naval vessels in the coastal areas between Batum-Zonguldak. During the 1920-1922 period, the naval forces of the two states in the region occasionally bombarded the ports and small piers in the region outside of normal control. These activities increased especially before the Battle of In. nü and Sakarya and the Great Offensive. The ports of Kastamonu, Sinop, and Samsun were the main ports of entry for the Union of Soviet Socialists, from which the Turkish Grand National Assembly government received logistical support in its war against the Greek occupation, and for ammunition supplied from Istanbul or via Ukraine and Romania. In addition, Trabzon-Samsun and Kastamonu coastal ports were used for the transfer of military forces in the Eastern Anatolia region to the western front after the Gyumri treaty with the Armenian government in the fall of 1920. The subject of this study is the Greek ports to cut the security and logistic support of the Turkish Grand National Assembly government in the Black Sea, which was at war with Greece on the western front during the National Struggle.