From the German point of view the agreement with Russia was a diplomatic triumph. All that Germany conceded was recognition of Russia’s special position in Persia, which affected no important German interests and exerted no appreciable influence on the balance of power in the Near East. In return, German trade was to be admitted to the markets of Persia, heretofore an exclusively British and Russian preserve; the sphere of the Bagdad Railway was to be considerably enlarged; Russian political obstruction of the Bagdad enterprise was to cease. Russian objections had been the first stumbling block in the way of the Railway; Russian protests had been the instigation of French opposition; now Russian recognition held out high promise for the final success of the Great Plan. The first breach had been made in the heretofore solid front presented by the Entente.[3] Outside of Germany and Russia, however, the Potsdam Agreement met with a heated reception. The Ottoman press complained that Turkey was being politely ignored by two foreign powers in the disposition of her rights. One Constantinople daily said it was a sad commentary on Turkish “sovereignty” that in an important treaty on the Bagdad Railway “there is no mention of us, as if we had no connection with that line, and we were not masters of Bagdad and Basra and the ports of the Persian Gulf.”[4] M. Hanotaux, a former French minister of foreign affairs, expressed his belief that “the negotiations at Potsdam have created a situation which, from every point of view, obliges us to ask, now, if Russia has dissolved the Triple Entente.”[5] Mr. Lloyd George delivered a particularly venomous attack upon Russia for having disregarded her diplomatic engagements, and he announced in clarion tones that this desertion from the ranks of the Entente—even if condoned by France—would not cause Great Britain to alter one iota her former policy.[6] The “Slav peril” appeared to be more keenly appreciated, for the moment, in France and England than in Germany!