‘Explosive Missals’: International Law,Technology,and Security in Nineteenth-Century Disarmament Conferences

I. Introduction

Historians have traditionally viewed the 1868 Declaration of St Petersburg respecting exploding bullets and the 1899 Hague Declaration on expanding bullets as foundations of humanitarian law, outlawing exotic weapons that caused needless injury. ¹ However, in both cases, far more was at stake than humanitarian gestures. The legacy of these declarations is more deeply rooted in the quest for military superiority, and the uncertain role of technology in that quest. At both the St Petersburg and Hague conferences the debate focused on the role of advanced armaments in the military balance. National strategic interest divided states in these negotiations, between those that perceived an advantage in technological innovation and those that believed the new munitions posed a threat.

Few works have explored the St Petersburg gathering beyond the final document issued in November 1868. Historians have emphasized the humanitarian benefits as set out in the text of the new declaration rather than the actual discussions at St Petersburg. While the 1868 conference remains largely unexplored, the British stance at the 1899 conference is better known. However, British motives at the latter gathering have been given only scant attention and are often misunderstood. The standard account of the Hague discussions holds that in 1899 Britain opposed a new declaration as it intended to use expanding bullets in colonial warfare. In reality, the British sought to preserve the possibility of employing expanding bullets in European warfare, yet strove to obscure this objective.

As a state dependent on technology to compensate for a smaller army both in European conflicts and in imperial wars, Britain typified the opposition to technological regulation. The ultimate form of the declarations confirmed that strategic interest remained paramount in Britain’s stance towards arms control, rather than humanitarian concerns. In 1868 and 1899 the existence of reciprocity clauses belied contemporary arguments about the purpose of these declarations. Reciprocity clauses restricted the application of treaty rights to ratifying parties, and were consciously employed in agreements to carefully delimit who received the benefit of conference bargains. Through an understanding of the negotiations, and the meaning of key provisions, national motives can be made clear.

II. Nineteenth-Century International Law and Armaments

Nineteenth-century international law restricted armaments on several grounds. These included moral regulation of inhumane weapons which caused excessive or indiscrimin-ate injury, and a general principle of international law requiring neighbouring states to refrain from amassing weapons against one another. Sources of international legal obligations could be found in treaties binding the ratifying parties, as well as in slowly evolving customs which obligated the entire legal community. ²

Security was a central concern of the international legal system. Statesmen employed law to set norms for resolving conflicts. Agreements dedicated to arms limitations were rare, but were entered into on a number of occasions prior to the twentieth century. More often, states inserted arms limitation provisions in peace treaties and other agreements settling security issues. These often included provisions for dismantling fortifications, and occasionally also regulating land and sea forces. Furthermore, contemporary terminology lacked a clear distinction between arms control and disarmament. Occasionally the modern concept of disarmament, or total elimination of weaponry, was referred to as ‘general and complete disarmament’, while arms control, or the regulation of weaponry, fell within the ambit of ‘partial disarmament’ or simply ‘disarmament’. While the distinct concepts existed, language remained ambiguous. This article will use modern terminology to minimize confusion.

In addition to treaty provisions limiting weaponry, custom recognized limits on a state’s right to arm itself. Generally, a state possessed the right of self-defence, including the right to amass armaments considered necessary for security. ³ However, neighbouring states had a corresponding security interest which could be violated by an unwarranted arms build-up. While states theoretically possessed full liberty to arm themselves, ‘some modification of [the right] appears to flow from the equal and corresponding rights of other nations, or at least to be required for the sake of the general welfare and peace of the world’. ⁴ At the very least, states had a duty to explain unusual arms acquisitions. ⁵

In turn, statesmen employed the custom expressed in textbooks to justify policy in the real world. In 1793 Foreign Secretary William Grenville sought explanations from France for its sudden increase in naval armaments, basing the right to this information upon international law. ⁶ Similarly, Palmerston warned Russia that its naval build-up in 1833 was causing misunderstandings, and sent a similar note to France in 1840. ⁷ In 1855 Clarendon provided a frank analysis of this custom, when he explained to the Russian government, ‘if it was true that Russia might keep up the force she pleased within her own limits, it was also true that other Powers had a right to require explanations, and upon their not being satisfactory to declare war’. ⁸

The balance of power underlay these legal principles. ⁹ A central goal of international law was the maintenance of the state system. Thus when confronting the rapid progress in military technology driven by the Industrial Revolution, statesmen could call upon legal arguments to halt destabilizing changes.

While the balance of power provided a rationale for threatening intervention when a neighbour engaged in an arms build-up, statesmen could more readily mobilize the international community when arms limits were formulated on humanitarian grounds. International law created numerous limits on the use of force in wartime. While war remained a legitimate means of upholding legal rights, the conduct of warfare was still subject to legal regulation. States were limited in taking only such actions as were necessary to gain redress for recognized claims. ¹⁰ In practice, necessity proved an infinitely malleable standard allowing great measures of force to be used.

The means of injuring an enemy in warfare were not unlimited, and a state could inflict no more harm than was necessary to render an enemy combatant hors de combat. Warfare was seen not as a situation of total licence to wreak harm, but as a vindication of rights, comparable to a trial by combat. ¹¹ As a corollary, states could inflict only the harm necessary to bring the enemy to terms. ¹² International law limited the scope of warfare, in part to make war more humane, and in part to assist in the resumption of relations after a brief, sharp conflict.

However, while international law proscribed the use of weapons deemed inhumane, ¹³ often initial moral disapproval faded as weapons gained acceptance. Law could coalesce around a community-wide condemnation of a new weapons technology. More often, weapons such as muskets, bayonets, and rifled firearms were all initially deemed immoral, without a general rule against their use evolving. Moral outrage often did not crystallize in a clear community-wide rule, which left statesmen to argue whether the use of a particular weapon was legal. From the mid-nineteenth century onwards, a dizzying revolution in military technology raised numerous questions of law. Torpedoes, naval mines, and rams could all rapidly sink an enemy warship, which created instability in naval tactics. This led to doubts about the legitimacy of their employment. ¹⁴ This background of rapid techno-logical change underlay the 1868 negotiations at St Petersburg, which ultimately resulted in a ban on exploding bullets. But whereas humanity was often invoked as a rationale for this agreement, its real significance lay in the strategic military interests of the powers.

III. St Petersburg Declaration of 1868 – ‘Explosive Missals’

By the 1860s, arms limitation was a staple of diplomatic discourse. The 1850s had witnessed an imposed naval arms limitation on Russia at the end of the Crimean War in 1856, which led to ongoing attempts by Russia to abrogate the Diktat in the following decade. In the 1860s Napoleon III repeatedly sought an international conference with arms on the agenda. Additionally, Britain and France engaged in a naval arms race throughout the 1850s fuelled by technological breakthroughs, most notably advances in steam-driven warships and shellfire. The early years of the 1860s witnessed an escalation of the Anglo-French naval arms race when France launched the world’s first ironclad warship.

Throughout these years, radical liberals in Britain, led by Richard Cobden, pressed for an arms control agreement with France. While successive British governments remained cool to the idea of arms limitation, French Emperor Napoleon III took the lead in arms control proposals. Ulterior political motives drove French armament initiatives as much as genuine concern about armaments. Almost immediately after the end of the Crimean War, France opened pourparlers with Russia, offering to end the despised Black Sea neutralization in return for benevolent neutrality in an anticipated Franco-Austrian war. ¹⁵ Napoleon III called for an international conference to undertake a systematic revision of the settlement of 1815, including a comprehensive discussion of arms issues, ¹⁶ hoping to advance French goals. The 1869–70 French calls for a bilateral arms limit with Prussia served two underlying purposes – first to mollify domestic opposition to military service, and second to signal an Anglo-French alignment to Prussian Minister President Bismarck, possibly making the Prussian wary of starting a conflict with France. ¹⁷ It was accepted that calls for arms limitation could serve ulterior purposes.

In 1868, when Russian Tsar Alexander II called for a ban on exploding bullets, the initiative was advocated as an extension of recent advances in humanitarian law. The Russian circular followed the precedent set by the 1864 Geneva Convention codifying rules of war for humanitarian goals. Yet the Russian circular was as much a reaction to the revolutionary changes in technology as a truly humanitarian gesture.

Small-arms technology had undergone nearly constant change in the quarter century preceding the 1868 limit. Prior to the 1840s, firearms technology had remained relatively stable for over a century; thus the ‘Brown Bess’ musket used in the early eighteenth century remained in the British inventory until the mid-nineteenth. ¹⁸ From the 1840s onward, a rapid succession of technological improvements had revolutionized infantry small arms, and simultaneously undermined traditional tactics. After 1849 the French Minié bullet altered the pattern from smooth-bore to rifled musketry, extending the range of infantry firearms and increasing the deadly accuracy of infantry fire. The 1850s witnessed a bewildering array of improvements, as artisan manufacture of firearms gave way to industrial mass production, and as slow-firing muzzle-loading guns were replaced by breech-loaders. ¹⁹ Prussia gave the new breech-loading weapons their first large-scale use in its wars against Denmark and Austria in 1864 and 1866. The dramatic Prussian successes in turn hastened France’s rearmament with its breech-loading Chassepot as well as the adoption of the mitrailleuse, an early machine gun.

The development of the exploding bullet must be viewed in this larger context of rapid weaponry change. Military experts perceived the exploding bullet as a simple innovation greatly increasing the firepower of infantry without necessitating the adoption of new rifles. ²⁰ As the inventor of the explosive bullet adopted by the British army put it, ‘It is absolutely inevitable, as inevitable as was the universal adoption of the improved rifle, that some such explosive bullet as mine is, will come into universal use.’ ²¹ Moreover, the introduction of exploding bullets would have merely paralleled the ongoing development of explosive artillery shells which had been replacing solid shot in the previous decades.

Early forms of the exploding bullet had been used in hunting large game since the 1820s. ²² The first true military application for this ammunition came in the 1860s. The Russian army developed an exploding bullet to attack artillery caissons, allowing a sniper to hit and detonate enemy ammunition supplies on the battlefield. Following the 1863 introduction of the weapon by Russia, several European nations developed exploding bullets, including Prussia, Austria, Switzerland, and Bavaria. ²³ These bullets, fired by ordinary rifles, generally featured a hollow shell containing a fulminating substance designed to explode upon hitting a target (Figure 1). ²⁴ The earlier version manufactured by Russia was designed to detonate only upon hitting a hard substance, such as a wooden artillery case, but later versions could explode upon striking a soft surface, such as human tissue or horse flesh. ²⁵

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

The Fosbery explosive bullet, in J.H. Pepper, ‘Shells and Explosive Bullets’, Routledge’s Every Boy’s Annual (undated), p. 196.

Although it was designed for use against inanimate targets, the Russian government feared that this ammunition might end up being used against soldiers and cavalry. Initial Russian regulations only supplied ten of the special bullets per soldier and regulated their use, but concerns remained that, in the heat of an engagement, a soldier would use them against a human opponent. Contemporary international law forbade the infliction of superfluous wounds. It was generally held that a soldier would be put out of combat merely by being struck by a bullet, and thus the additional chemical burns and wounds caused by explosions would be unnecessary. ²⁶ The tsar called for international regulation of the ammunition in May 1868. ²⁷ After receiving replies to its circular from all governments, with the notable absence of the United States, the Russian government issued a second circular with a draft protocol. Russia apparently hoped that the document would be internationally approved without further action being required.

At the instigation of the Prussian government, the scope of the negotiations was broadened into a wider law-making conference. Invoking the 1856 Declaration of Paris as a model, Prussia called for an expansion of the general principle prohibiting excessive harm, by extending the investigation to other weapons. ²⁸ While Bismarck may have broadened the scope of the discussion unrealistically to kill off the proposal, diplomats now had to respond to a formal call for a more general humanitarian ban. Following further negotiation on the scope of prohibition, the Russian government issued a third circular in July. While the first two circulars aimed at the immediate creation of an international rule by consensus, the third acknowledged the broader Prussian goal could only be achieved by a diplomatic gathering. The Russian government therefore organized a conference to be held at St Petersburg. ²⁹ While the Russian government had initially sought the creation of an agreement through diplomatic correspondence, it now had a full conference on its hands.

Between the issuing of the three circulars and the conference held in October, debate focused on the breadth of the regulation. Throughout the summer of 1868 British representatives expressed doubts about the wisdom of regulating exploding bullets, initially refusing to adhere to an international protocol. In an attempt to gain universal acceptance, Russia suggested that Britain could adhere to the new rule by means of a separate document, rather than through the jointly ratified text. The wider Prussian scheme only exacerbated matters. Predictably, the idea of an open-ended conference to discuss limitations of military technology created consternation at the Foreign Office. The British ambassador in St Petersburg, Andrew Buchanan, when replying to the third Russian circular, claimed that, while Britain was willing to forgo the use of explosive bullets, his government had grave misgivings about the creation of a general rule. ³⁰ A broader rule would of necessity be vague, as it would be impossible to guess the direction future development of weapons would take. This in turn would lead to disagreements and recrimination when new weapons were employed.

British resistance hinged on fears that sweeping regulations would halt the technological development of weaponry in general. Even if the British were not concerned specifically with exploding bullets, having a capital-intensive state they depended disproportionately on technical advances in defence and would not easily abandon their advantage:

[W]hile the numerical force of the British army was less than that of any Great Power, the mechanical resources, the inventive talent and the wealth of England were probably not exceeded, if indeed they were equalled [sic], by those of any other country: and it followed therefore that any understanding which tended to limit the application of mechanical or chemical arts to war would operate, so far as it was effective, to reduce rather than to augment the military force of this country as compared with that of other nations. ³¹

While this conference was held before the last great wave of imperialism, the British clearly had in mind the question of utilizing technological superiority in defending the empire, with the Sepoy rebellion of 1857 serving as a recent reminder of the risks faced by a small occupying force in hostile territory.

Initially the British refused to attend the conference, but ultimately they followed French practice by agreeing to discuss only the narrow ban on explosive bullets, while disavowing any role in the creation of a broader rule. British fears were soon vindicated. Ahead of the conference, nothing had been settled as to how the proposed regulation would function. The Russians advocated a partial ban, which would allow them to continue to employ exploding bullets against artillery caissons. This could be accomplished by banning only the bullets that exploded upon hitting soft targets, which unrealistically required bullets to be highly sensitive. ³² Alternatively, the cartridges could be handed out only to specific troops, who would then be given the responsibility of firing them only against allowable targets, an unrealistic proposition in the heat of battle. ³³ This issue was resolved when the parties agreed to a complete ban on the use of exploding or fulminating bullets. Further negotiations set an upper size limit on bullets at 400 grams, to distinguish between forbidden bullets and permissible artillery shells. ³⁴

The conference then addressed the more contentious issue of legal limits on new military technology. Sweden summed up the views of many at the conference, noting that, with the recent invention of the mitrailleuse, ‘one cannot prejudge the progress of science’. The Swedish delegation unsuccessfully advocated that a margin be built into regulations ‘enough for the spirit of invention’. ³⁵ The parties ultimately addressed the Prussian goal by enshrining the general principle prohibiting excessive injury in the preamble to the declaration. ³⁶ However, the broader initiative to limit military technology yielded no concrete result.

The negotiations highlighted the difficulties in regulating rapidly evolving military technology. Statesmen in numerous countries expressed fears that regulations could be framed too broadly, which could either prevent the adoption of new technology or result in recrimination by belligerents as to the exact nature of the ban. When negotiating the text, the parties argued about whether Congreve rockets, mitrailleuses, or even standard explosive artillery shells would be banned by the new rule. ³⁷ The British government struggled to keep up to date on the technology being regulated. Even the terminology proved too complicated, with its correspondence perpetuating an unintended pun (or Freudian slip) by repeatedly referring to ‘explosive missals’. ³⁸

In framing the Declaration of St Petersburg, the British delegate sought to preserve national advantage. Despite initial misgivings, he ultimately signed the declaration. But Britain only accepted the new prohibition after inserting language into the text making the legal obligations reciprocal. ³⁹ As only parties to the declaration could claim the protection of its provisions, European powers could utilize the weapons against non-parties, including Asian and African peoples. Thus, a new legal norm intended ostensibly for humanitarian purposes was effectively limited to the sphere of European international law, without regard to the mass of humanity outside its protection.

The level of attendance at the conference promoted the progressive codification of international law, as Spain was the only major European country absent from the gathering. Additionally, both Persia and the Ottoman Empire took part in deliberations, building on the precedent set by the inclusion of Turkey within law-making negotiations in 1856. As with the 1899 Hague gathering, the Russian policy of invitation excluded Latin America; as with the 1856 Paris codification of maritime law, the United States refused to participate. ⁴⁰ Finally, the resultant Declaration of St Petersburg was left open to possible adherence by other states, with Brazil ratifying it in 1869. ⁴¹ As at the later Hague Peace Conference, a grand armament proposal ultimately resulted in a very narrow regulation but, unlike the case before the 1899 gathering, public interest and expectations had not been high. The resulting 1868 declaration did not bring with it the same disappointment as the limited results at The Hague did for a later generation.

If diplomats truly believed that the injuries caused by exploding bullets were excessive and unnecessary for military purposes, there would have been no reason to attach a reciprocity clause. Notably, the other major contemporary humanitarian treaty, the 1864 Geneva Convention, lacked any explicit requirement of reciprocity. ⁴² Possibly the parties acknowledged that the munitions were too barbaric for use among themselves, yet perceived advantages in using them against non-European enemies lacking sophisticated technology. Thus the munitions were barbaric but could still be necessary. The British and Russian delegations sought a reciprocity clause for this reason. As the majority of mankind remained unprotected by the agreement, its underlying purpose could not reasonably be construed as humanitarian. The declaration must be seen rather as an attempt to check the rapid development of weaponry into what appeared to be a likely next step.

IV. The Evolution of Popular Perception, 1868–1898

Between 1868 and 1898, popular views of the ban on exploding bullets evolved, as politicians and the public conflated the regulation into a more general prohibition on ammunition causing excessive injury. In 1868 arguments outside the conference raged as to how war could best be made more humane. Noting that the vast majority of casualties came from illnesses spread in camp, some argued that the more humane course would be to adopt weapons that made war as short as possible. ⁴³ In the British Parliament it was noted that the rapid technological change of the first half of the century had been matched by a corresponding decline in battlefield deaths. ⁴⁴

The public also contemplated how the national interest would best be served. In an article written a year prior to the St Petersburg conference, the Pall Mall Gazette saw battlefield injuries as a legitimate means of reducing the strength of an enemy, as the care of wounded soldiers would take up valuable resources. In a gruesome turn of logic, the paper opposed explosive bullets as they were more likely to kill their victims outright, thereby freeing medical resources. ⁴⁵ Modern weapons were also seen as serving a deterrent function, as the horror of their use prevented states from going to war. ⁴⁶ Additionally, a country could not abandon unique national advantages, including advanced technology, for abstract principles of humanity. Without its technological advantages, the small British army would have been no match for a continental foe, and would have been insufficient to maintain a vast overseas empire.

The regulation of exploding bullets periodically made headlines in the years following the St Petersburg conference. Claims of violations were made during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–1, and again during the Boer War of 1880–1. At the Brussels conference of 1874, convened for further codification of the laws of war, the explosive-bullet prohibition arose again. The Swedish delegation proposed an extension of the 1868 declaration to include soft lead bullets, which, unlike hard lead bullets, had a tendency to expand when hitting flesh. The proposal proved problematic, with the Prussian delegate pointing out that most of the continental powers employed soft lead bullets, making the change to hard lead bullets prohibitively expensive. ⁴⁷ The resulting Brussels Declaration forbade the use of ‘arms, projectiles, or substances which may cause unnecessary suffering’ and affirmed the general principle that the ‘laws of war do not allow to belligerents an unlimited power as to the choice of means of injuring the enemy’. ⁴⁸ Although the declaration never entered force, it influenced the future codification of international law at The Hague in 1899, and found its way into numerous military manuals issued by European states. ⁴⁹

Confusion in both terminology and technology continued to mark discussions about weapons, with the 1868 St Petersburg Declaration being linked to the archaic use of red-hot shot at sea. ⁵⁰ This particular debate was largely irrelevant as technology was moving beyond wooden ships, which could be burned by this shot, towards ironclads, which could not, as well as away from smooth-bore muzzle-loading cannon to rifled breech-loaders incapable of handling such ammunition.

Beyond the narrow technological issues, the existence of a legal prohibition added a layer of public confusion. A limited prohibition framed around reciprocity was seen by the British public and Parliament as evidence of the existence of broader rules of humanity. Even before the Russian call for an arms limitation conference in 1898, parliamentarians had linked the ban on exploding bullets to a moral prohibition on newer expanding bullets, and had unwittingly assumed the reciprocal obligation created a general rule. ⁵¹ Expanding bullets had a solid lead core partially covered by a nickel envelope up to the tip of the bullet. The opening in the nickel envelope allowed the soft lead to expand and break into fragments. Expanding bullets differed from exploding bullets from the technical standpoint in that they lacked an explosive charge. Nonetheless, the wounds caused by such bullets were horrific, and raised the same question of excessive harm.

V. The 1899 Hague Peace Conference and Expanding Bullets

As had been the case with the 1868 St Petersburg conference, the Russian tsar issued the call for the disarmament gathering ultimately held at The Hague in 1899. The recent acquisition of quick-firing artillery by Germany and Austria-Hungary probably initially motivated Tsar Nicholas II. ⁵² The Russian minister of war, Aleksei Kuropatkin, suggested a bilateral arrangement with Austria-Hungary to postpone the exorbitant expense of supplying the Russian army with this new gun. ⁵³ Politically, Russia could not negotiate with Austria without including Germany, the ally of the Habsburg Empire. A limited bilateral negotiation quickly grew into a general multilateral conference. As in 1868, the Russian call for a conference followed the introduction of an expensive new weapon. Additionally, as in 1868, an initiative designed to limit a single weapon evolved into a broader call to limit military technological advances. What differed in 1898 was that the call also reflected a general popular belief that the escalating costs of armaments needed to be reined in, which led to higher public expectations of tangible results.

But while popular expectations ran high in 1898, none of the great European powers was interested in arms limitation. ⁵⁴ Many statesmen believed that the proposal was a diplomatic manoeuvre designed to gain time for the industrially underdeveloped empire to address another leap in military technology. By winter 1898–9 the Russian tsarist government drafted a second circular, shifting the agenda away from arms limitation by adding arbitration as a topic. This move prevented the gathering from becoming a complete failure by including topics on which some progress could be expected.

The second Russian circular was also partly motivated by a desire to isolate the British, by proposing topics expected to be unpopular with Britain. ⁵⁵ If Britain refused to attend, or obstructed discussions, the island nation would be isolated from the continental powers, while Russia would benefit from a diplomatic regrouping. However, the Salisbury government confounded the Russians by accepting the agenda. The British government still opposed nearly every element listed for discussion, yet sought to avoid becoming the scapegoat for the failure of the programme.

In British planning papers circulated before the conference, opposition centred on the impracticality of disarmament. No equitable measurement of armaments would be approved by all states, and complexity would prevent agreement. Moreover, memoranda argued that disarmament required the creation of powerful international institutions with police powers. ⁵⁶ While this assessment of general disarmament reflected real concerns about the legal challenges, this position ignored the ample experience Britain had in arms limitation and security-related law. This knowledge would have demonstrated that law could play a role in shaping the security environment without the creation of a utopian world government. However, the impossibility of international regulation could also be utilized as another excuse for not accepting unwanted arms limitations.

The prime minister, Lord Salisbury, selected a delegation for The Hague based on the delegates’ expected opposition to disarmament. Fresh from a diplomatic victory at Fashoda which affirmed the value of sea power, Salisbury appeared reluctant to limit the Royal Navy. Like many international observers, he argued that the expense and the destructiveness of war deterred conflict. ⁵⁷

Major General John Ardagh, director of military intelligence, was selected to develop the War Office position. The memorandum drafted by Ardagh prior to the conference served as the official reference point for the British delegation at The Hague. Ardagh believed that the ‘perpetual see-saw of superiority works for peace’ by making states unwilling to go to war while rearming. ⁵⁸ As with arguments made at St Petersburg in 1868, Ardagh held that Britain, with its smaller population, relied upon technology to maintain its position as a great power. A limited agreement on new technology, such as the ban on exploding bullets, could only succeed if it did not alter the outcome of war. In 1868 the ban on exploding bullets had been approved, and it had been maintained as the weapon had never become integral to military tactics. According to the major general, a broader interdiction on all technologies would fail for the practical reason that states would eventually find it in their interest to develop new weapons. Moreover, Ardagh skilfully built a humanitarian argument in favour of new technologies. Tracing the length of wars and casualty rates over several centuries, he noted that as firearms had improved and became more lethal, wars had become shorter, while tactics had adjusted and actually reduced battlefield deaths. This downward trend in casualties could be arrested if new technologies were not allowed to develop. ⁵⁹

In a related argument Ardagh stressed the imperial necessity of technology in ‘savage warfare’. If the more advanced states no longer harnessed their technological innovations to defence, the backward states would gradually achieve the same technological level. Britain could not maintain its great empire if it had to put down uprisings by natives armed with the same quality of weapons, and ultimately the safety of the European powers would be imperilled by the ‘uncivilized races’. ⁶⁰

Ardagh was conversant with international law and an able delegate for the Hague assignment. His memorandum and other papers indicated he had an understanding of basic international law. Like Salisbury he raised questions about both enforcement of disarmament and the difficulty in defining a measure of military strength. Ultimately, he opposed every point on the tsar’s agenda, with the exception of arbitration, on which he expressed no opinion, finding all restrictions on war or weaponry to be impossible. ⁶¹

At the Hague conference the larger arms limitation initiatives failed utterly. The parties discussed the possibility of limiting military budgets, effective troop levels, and new technology, yet could reach no consensus on the bigger questions of armaments. However, the First Hague Peace Conference agreed to three binding declarations limiting largely new and untried armaments. These included bans on aerial bombardment, shells whose main purpose was to disperse poisonous gas, and expanding bullets, of which the dumdum was the most famous type. While the aerial bombardment and poison gas agreements generated little discussion, the dumdum bullet declaration was directed against ammunition used solely by Britain and resulted in heated controversy.

Expanding bullets were not listed on the tsar’s programme but had been raised as a possible means of limiting armaments by the Swiss and Dutch delegations at the first meeting of the military sub-commission. While preparing for the conference, Major General Ardagh alluded to the subject when he correlated decreasing bullet size with improved weaponry effectiveness. As firearms evolved from muzzle-loaders to breech-loaders, and then into repeating rifles with magazines, bullet sizes had correspondingly decreased. ⁶² As this evolution continued, British military experts feared that smaller bullets would have less effect on their targets. Veterans of the Chitral campaign in India in 1895 claimed that the .303 calibre bullet of the Lee-Metford rifle was insufficient to stop determined foes. ⁶³ In response the British had developed bullets that expanded upon hitting a target. ⁶⁴ Ardagh also pointed out at the conference that all older bullets, such as those still used by the British army’s Snider rifle, lacked the nickel envelope over the lead bullet, and thus also expanded. ⁶⁵

Other delegations brought up the standard of excessive injury set in the 1868 St Petersburg Declaration. In response the British delegate stressed the need for greater stopping power in colonial warfare. Ardagh argued that while ‘civilized’ soldiers would lie down and wait for the stretcher-bearer upon being hit by a small bullet:

your fanatical barbarian, when he receives wounds of a like nature, which are insufficient to stop or disable him, continues to dash on, spear or sword in hand, and before you have had time or opportunity to represent to him that his conduct is in flagrant violation of the understanding relative to the proper course for a wounded man to follow, he may have cut off your head. ⁶⁶

ardagh repeatedly distinguished between ‘civilized’ and ‘savage’ warfare, where other delegations had been silent. But his claimed need for more powerful bullets against savages went beyond acceptable standards, and drew the rebuke of the Russian delegate, who claimed the humanitarian spirit did not allow such invidious distinctions. ⁶⁷ However, privately other delegations cynically acknowledged the British division between civilized and savage. In much the same offhand manner as neighbours swap recipes, the Dutch delegate claimed his country’s army had been happy with the effects of fully mantled bullets when fighting their savages, as these had the penetrating power necessary for reaching foes sheltering behind improvised stockades and in jungles. ⁶⁸

While the British couched their need for expanding bullets in the context of ‘savage warfare’ in the colonies, the unstated purpose was the intent to use similar bullets in European warfare, possibly to break up cavalry or bayonet charges. ⁶⁹ The dumdum bullet, referring to a type made in the eponymous Indian town, was merely the most famous expanding bullet, as the British made similar ammunition in domestic arsenals for European conflicts. At the conference Ardagh studiously avoided all mention of these other expanding bullets, as they belied claims the ammunition was solely designed for imperial conflicts. Had he wanted to, he could have made stronger arguments by noting that the dumdum bullet did not inflict the traumatic injuries of the Tübingen bullet – a type used in a medical study on the effects of expanding bullets, which was often referred to in discussions at The Hague. However, as other expanding bullets in British domestic arsenals mirrored the effects of the Tübingen bullet, Ardagh remained silent. ⁷⁰

More pointedly, the proposed regulation would only have applied reciprocally. The British could have continued to use the bullets against their colonial subjects as they acquired no rights as signatories. Had their concern solely been with colonial subjects, a ban similar to the St Petersburg Declaration should have been acceptable as it had been in 1868. The fact that the British continued their opposition to the declaration in spite of the provision of reciprocity indicates that their real concern was with using expanding bullets against European enemies, not in colonial insurrections, an interpretation which Ardagh explicitly confirmed. After noting the dubious humanity of using dumdum bullets in colonial warfare, he reflected:

On the other hand, there is at least some reason to doubt whether the present English pattern of bullet entirely fulfils the requirements of a bullet for even civilized warfare. But for this doubt, I should have been content to admit the application of the restriction as a supplement to the Convention of St. Petersburgh [sic], which, as it is only binding upon those who have acceded to it, would have excluded savage warfare. ⁷¹

The British delegation may have been opposed to a limit for other reasons, including concern that any general agreement would tend to delegitimize British use of dumdum bullets in colonial wars, regardless of British abstention. ⁷² In fact, such considerations played a role in the ultimate British adherence to the declaration in 1907. ⁷³ Yet the desire to use expanding bullets in European wars provided the decisive reason for British opposition.

Despite British opposition, the conference voted to ban ‘the use of bullets which expand or flatten easily in the human body, such as bullets with a hard envelope which does not entirely cover the core, or is pierced with incisions’. ⁷⁴ The precision of the language caused some misgivings, as the American delegation claimed that it would be better to codify the general principle that all bullets causing excessive harm should be banned. As the specificity of the declaration would make it easier to circumvent, the Americans proposed an alternative declaration enlarging upon the general principle espoused in the St Petersburg Declaration. However, other delegations countered that a general principle would be easier to breach, as there would be no clear definition of what ‘excessive injury’ encompassed. This lack of clarity would merely lead to recrimination and embittered relations, and so the assembly decided upon a specific formula, even if the declaration removed only one weapon from the world’s arsenals.

In contrast to discussions on expanding bullets, the proposed bans on poison gas and aerial bombardment generated far less debate at The Hague. Ardagh considered aerial bombardment in the same light as other technological advances, seeing only the potential for new weaponry to limit the expense and devastation of war. Noting the length of the siege of Paris in 1870–1, he claimed that most deaths during the siege resulted from starvation rather than bombardment. While the Prussian bombardment had been relatively ineffective, Parisian morale was shattered. If an inaccurate bombardment could quickly end a siege, reasoned Ardagh, precision-targeted aerial bombardment could rapidly bring even a determined garrison to terms, sparing the lives of civilians in the process. ⁷⁵

As in the 1868 discussions of ‘explosive missals’, the 1899 gathering suffered from a lack of practical experience or precise terminology. As the British and other delegations were unclear about the future evolution of aerial technology – which in 1899 did not include heavier-than-air craft – their members referred to both balloons and kites as the subject of their deliberations. ⁷⁶ It proved difficult both to frame regulations as well as to judge the necessity for limiting aerial warfare before it had been attempted in a systematic way. Many shared the humanist sentiment expressed by Dutch delegate den Beer Poortugael when he asked, ‘Does it not seem excessive to authorize the use of infernal machines which seem to fall from the sky?’ ⁷⁷ Yet more delegates agreed with his assessment that technology could easily make such weaponry possible. Without knowing the direction technology would advance, the conference decided on a five-year ban, allowing reconsideration of the question once the technology had sufficiently matured.

The delegations had initially planned on incorporating all three armament declarations either in a protocol to the 1868 St Petersburg Declaration or in a single treaty instrument. It became clear that British opposition to two of the three declarations would result in the island nation’s refusal to ratify a document containing all these provisions. Hence the final declarations were completed as separate, independent, treaties. Ultimately, Britain, alone among the 26 nations at the conference, refused to ratify any of the three declarations. ⁷⁸ Of the other great powers, only the United States also chose to abstain from some of the declarations, fulfilling earlier predictions that armaments questions could differentiate the two powers from the other states at the conference.

By the time of the Second Hague Peace Conference, Britain had abandoned plans to employ expanding bullets and accepted the 1899 ban. ⁷⁹ In 1907 the new Liberal government sought broad arms limits, and its revised stance on the 1899 declarations reflected a new-found desire to be viewed as an advocate of arms control. However, while the British government now accepted the expanding bullet declaration, its military delegates still had reservations and recommended signing only if it was a universally accepted ban. At stake in 1907 was a revision of the 1899 expanding bullet declaration, which called for a general ban on all ammunition which caused needless and excessive injuries, addressing earlier American goals. The military expressed fears about facing an enemy armed with new bullets of ‘high stopping efficiency’ if Britain lacked the same ammunition. ⁸⁰ Ultimately, the conference ruled the American proposal to modify the declaration to be out of order, as the topic had not been included on the agenda. ⁸¹

Even in 1907 the British army still harboured lingering concerns about the influence of new munitions technology on the military balance. Had the army believed that new bullets of ‘high stopping efficiency’ caused excessive harm without augmenting fighting effectiveness, there would have been no need to employ them against enemies armed with similar ammunition. Possibly the army believed that the mere possession of expanding bullets would deter their use by a foe, out of fear of reprisals. More likely the military was never entirely convinced that high-technology munitions did not contribute to strength.

VI. Conclusion

The negotiations discussed highlight two major rationales underlying arms limitation – strategic interest and humanitarian concern. Both rationales influence modern arms limitation. Despite the continued existence of a principle prohibiting unnecessary harm, strategic interests continue to predominate in decisions to ban weaponry. States have maintained a weapon-by-weapon approach to treaty negotiations, from chemical and biological weapons to landmines and cluster munitions. A review of earlier negotiations indicates that similar processes were occurring in the nineteenth century.

For the British Foreign Office the stakes in negotiations at both St Petersburg and The Hague went beyond humanitarian gestures, and included strategic interests in exploiting new technology. The course of negotiations and wording of the documents betray these ulterior motives. At both conferences Britain wanted to maintain the right to develop and deploy advanced military technology. In 1868 Britain wanted the right to employ advanced weaponry in imperial conflicts. In 1899, in contrast to the published record, Britain wanted to maintain the right to use expanding bullets in European wars, yet also needed to obscure this motive. At St Petersburg, Britain advocated a reciprocity clause to achieve its aims, belying any humanitarian intent. At The Hague, British opposition to a similar instrument with a reciprocity clause is inexplicable unless Britain intended to use expanding bullets against its treaty partners. In both cases, contemporary statements obscured the real motives for seeking or avoiding treaty obligations.

By removing these two arms control initiatives from their humanitarian context, they can be seen in their true light as attempts to come to terms with the dizzying pace of technological change. In both cases, exotic ammunition was viewed as a logical development of small-arms technology. The context for the 1868 treaty lay in the revolutionary advance of small-arms technology, with exploding bullets being viewed as the logical next step. Similarly, Britain’s opposition to regulation in 1899 rested squarely on its belief that the expanding bullet was the successor to smaller calibre ammunition. In both cases, Britain perceived an advantage from exploiting its technological leadership, and recognized the importance of this leadership as a force multiplier for the small British army.

The fact that exploding and expanding bullets did not enter general use should not conceal statesmen’s apprehensions that these munitions would enter arsenals in the manner that exploding shells, Minié balls, and Maxim guns did. An appreciation of international law and how it functioned offers a glimpse into Victorian mindsets that might otherwise be missed. In the 1868 and 1899 conferences, statesmen posited humanitarian reasons for banning ammunition, yet these pronouncements were belied by reciprocity clauses in the texts. An understanding of the legal context helps expose the true interests at stake in the agreements, making policy intelligible not as humanitarian gesture but as the advocacy of strategic interest.