A good example of how stratagem may be used for a laudable purpose

is found in the action of William J. Buchanan, American Minister

to Argentina, in adjusting the Chili-Argentinian boundary dispute.

Buchanan, one of the most original of American diplomats, had nothing

whatever of the suave manipulator of the old school of diplomacy. He

was direct to the verge of bruskness, yet his ability to go straight

to the essential point, and his mastery and bigness, made him highly

successful as a negotiator. In this particular case, Buchanan had been

designated, together with a Chilian and an Argentinian representative,

on a commission to settle boundary questions and requested to make a

preliminary report. He agreed to act only on the following conditions:

That because of the complexity and difficulty of the questions

involved, it would be necessary to report on the suggested boundary

by sections, that each section should be voted upon as reported by

him, and that a majority vote on each section should be decisive. This

proposal was accepted. After a careful investigation, Buchanan made his

report, and it was found that on each section the suggested boundary

was carried by two votes against one; the American always voted in the

affirmative; the Chilian and Argentinian, as in the particular section

the allotments seemed favorable or unfavorable to their respective

country. In accordance with the terms agreed upon, the entire report

had thus to be accepted, and all the thorny problems of long-standing

boundary controversies were settled. Had Buchanan not used this

stratagem it is very unlikely that the report as a whole would have

been accepted, as each of his associates would have felt that he could

not vote for a report containing arrangements for giving up specific

tracts of territory which his country had hitherto always insisted

upon retaining. By this clever arrangement Buchanan made it possible

for them to vote against such relinquishment in each case without

defeating the project as a whole; but if he had revealed to them his

plan at the beginning, the object could not have been achieved.

This incident illustrates that a complete solution will often be

accepted as satisfactory although it may contain details which, by

themselves, would have been resisted to the last. It may be said that

the disadvantage of public discussion lies in the emphasizing of such

points of opposition, and the obscuring of the general reasonableness

of a solution.

Mr. Balfour in his defense of the secrecy of diplomatic intercourse,

says that the work of diplomacy is exactly similar to the work which

is done every day between two great business firms. He then argues

that, in all such relationships, it is unwise to air difficulties in

public. Bismarck used the more homely illustration of a horse trade,

the participants in which should not be expected to tell each other

all they know about the prospective bargain. That view is putting

diplomacy on a rather lowly footing. One might expect a somewhat

different temper among men dealing with momentous public affairs than

the bluff-and-haggle of a petty private transaction. Yet such tactics

have actually been found useful in diplomacy. Mr. Balfour is on

sounder ground when he says, “In private, in conversations which need

not go beyond the walls of the room in which you are, both parties may

put their case as strongly as they like and no soreness remains,” but

“directly a controversy becomes public, all that fair give-and-take

becomes difficult or impossible.” This, of course, implies a somewhat

low estimate of public intelligence and self-control, of which more

later.

The greatest vice of a secret diplomatic policy, working in the dark

and concealing international undertakings, lies in the inevitable

generating of mutual suspicion and the total destruction of public

confidence among the different countries which compose the family of

nations. No nation is so bad as imagination, confused and poisoned

by secrecy and by the suggestion of dire plottings, would paint it.

Agreements and understandings which do not exist at all are imagined,

the nature of those which actually have been made is misjudged, and

animosities are exaggerated; thus the public is quite naturally put in

that mood of suspicion and excitement which renders it incapable of

judging calmly when apparently startling facts suddenly emerge.

Secret diplomacy destroys public confidence, however, in a still more

insidious manner: by the practice of using a language of ideal aims

and humanitarian professions in order to conceal and veil the most

narrowly selfish, unjust and unconscionable actions. The conventional

language of diplomacy still carries in it many of the phrases and

concepts instilled by the false idealism of the eighteenth century, to

which at that time diplomacy gave lip worship. The most disconcerting

performances of this kind are the profuse and reiterated declarations

promising the maintenance of the sovereignty, independence and

integrity of certain countries, when in fact the action really taken

was quite to the contrary effect.

The diplomacy of Japan has manifested peculiar expertship in the use

of phrases that are associated with some wise public dispensation

or arrangement and which have a calming effect--to cover action not

remotely in fact contributing to such beneficent providences. The

sovereignty, integrity and independence of a neighboring country are

guaranteed in solemn terms at the very moment when force, intrigue and

every tricky artifice are secretly employed to destroy them. “Strong

popular demand” is alleged as a reason for harsh action abroad, in a

country where the expressions of public opinions as well as policy

itself are controlled by a narrow group, with absolutist authority.

There is so much talk of “frank discussion” that every one is put on

his guard as soon as the word “frank” is uttered.

The “peace of Asia,” a “Monroe Doctrine for Asia,” the “Open Door,”

“greatest frankness,” “hearty coöperation with other powers,” are

heralded at times when the context of facts makes a strange commentary.

But while such a discrepancy is very strident in a country where

military absolutism wields control over diplomacy, with a grudging

obeisance to representative forms, yet other countries are by no

means free from this hypocrisy. What blasted promise of equity in

all that succession of declarations concerning Korea, China, Persia,

parts of Turkey, and Morocco. What confusion of political ideals in

supporting Denikin, Wrangel, and Horthy as defenders of “representative

government.”

When Russia and Japan, in response to Secretary Knox’ Manchurian

proposal had made their secret arrangements to defeat his policy,

Great Britain, though it had made many reassuring protestations at

Washington, nevertheless had secretly acquiesced (to cite a Russian

diplomatic paper) in the “recognition of our (Russian) sphere of

influence in Northern Manchuria, Mongolia, and Western China, with

the exception of Kashgar, as well as the undertaking not to hinder us

in the execution of our plans in these territories, and herself to

pursue no aims which we should have to regard as incompatible with our

interest.” And it was also stated that Great Britain, in return, was

to receive “recognition of her freedom of action and her privileged

position in Tibet.” This was in 1912.

Thus were the solemn declarations relating to the Open Door and the

integrity of China applied in action.

Subsequent departure from the letter and spirit of such declarations

may indeed sometimes be excused on account of changed circumstances;

but frequently it is quite apparent to those who know what is going on,

that such well-sounding declarations are made for public consumption,

at the very time when the contrary action is taken secretly.

This is indeed nothing less than a crime against the public opinion and

conscience of the world, which cannot be condemned in terms too strong.

It shows a thorough contempt of the people, who are supposed to be

either of so little intelligence or of so short a memory that such vain

professions may succeed in veiling the true inwardness of political

intrigue. This practice tends to engender thorough confusion in the

public mind as to standards of right and justice in international

affairs; it shakes the basis on which alone sound international

relations can grow up; as, indeed, all social relations must rest upon

confidence in an underlying justice and equity.

Closely allied to the practice of making public declarations in

international affairs which do not correspond with the specific action

taken, is the control of the press and the censure of news. This is

indeed a matter which transcends the subject of diplomacy, because

a system of press control and censure is often applied by other

departments of the government than the diplomatic branch. As far as

foreign affairs are concerned, it is used in an effort to support

foreign policy, and it therefore shares the same defects which inhere

in the old diplomacy. Like secret diplomatic control, it is accounted

for on the assumption that the people cannot be trusted with the entire

truth, and that carefully selected portions of the truth have to be

put forth in order to make them ready to support the policy considered

necessary by the leaders. This involves the assumption of an enormous

responsibility by a few leaders in determining by themselves what

the public interest requires and instead of relying on the strength

naturally to be gained from a spontaneous public opinion, to attempt

to fashion that opinion for specific purposes. Press control and

censure, with the incomplete and warped information which it implies,

is one of the evil accompaniments considered necessary in the conduct

of a war, for the safety of the combatant nation. The principle that

strategic information must be kept secret is extended, at such times,

out of all reason. After hostilities have actually been concluded, this

practice tends to subsist and to continue the evils of misinformation

and confusion in the public judgment. The manner in which all news

emanating from the Balkan and Near Eastern countries has been censured

since the war, has made it impossible for the public of the world to

form a just conception as to what is there going on. Control of the

press and censorship likewise resulted in such confusion in the public

mind concerning the problems of Russia, that there remained no reliable

basis for a policy which would facilitate the restoration of more

normal conditions there, in a sympathetic spirit with the struggles and

difficulties of the Russian people.

On account of the natural fact that men are apt to be influenced in

their action unconsciously through persons with whom they have constant

associations, it is a matter of no mean importance that the armament

interests should have been so strongly represented in many capitals by

men of high professional and social standing, always on the ground,

eager to advance the business in military supplies. In many capitals,

very close relationships have grown up between the diplomatic officers

and the representatives of the great armament firms. As a mutual

apprehension of excessive preparation for war greatly stimulates these

industries, it is not surprising that their representatives do not

exert themselves to prevent occasional war scares. In fact, highly

misleading information on war plans has often been given out, as in the

case of a representative of the Coventry Ordnance Works, who in 1909

informed the British Government of excessive shipbuilding by Germany.

The news was later found to be erroneous; but new orders had been

given in Great Britain, and through action and reaction armaments were

stimulated elsewhere. The close connection of the Krupp Iron Works with

the German Government and with associations favoring aggressive foreign

action is well known.

It has often happened that what represents itself to be a national

interest and enlists diplomatic and political support in that way, is

really only the enterprise of individuals to make profits. The men

who support it with their best energies and talents are not villains,

but their method of assuming a great national interest where only

a tradition, a prejudice or a private plan of profit are involved,

renders their doings far from beneficial to the commonweal. Similarly,

those who operate on the principle that the public mind must be

nourished with certain carefully selected facts and kept from the

knowledge of others, may have honest motives, but their ideas of public

action are obsolete or deserve to be so, as they are left over from the

absolutist régime in politics.

XI

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS

In considering the relation of legislative bodies, and of the public

opinion therein represented, to the conduct of foreign affairs, it will

be useful to glance briefly at the relevant historical facts. When the

United Colonies of America formed a separate political organization

from the mother country, the conduct of foreign affairs was entrusted

to a committee of Congress, a successor to the Committee of Secret

Correspondence. In 1781 a Secretaryship for Foreign Affairs, with a

permanent department, was created and in 1782 the conduct of foreign

affairs was regulated in the following terms:

“All letters to sovereign powers, letters of credence, plans of

treaties, conventions, manifestoes, instructions, passports, safe

conducts, and other acts of Congress relative to the department

of foreign affairs, when the substance thereof shall have been

previously agreed to in Congress, shall be reduced to form in

the office of foreign affairs, and submitted to the opinion of

Congress, and when passed, signed and attested, sent to the

office of foreign affairs to be countersigned and forwarded.”

Congress therefore retained a very close control over this matter; a

control which under the Constitution passed to the Senate, though in

a restricted form. In no other country did a legislative committee

participate in the conduct of foreign affairs with similar power and

influence. The policy of the arrangements under the Constitution is

explained by John Jay in the _Federalist_ as follows:

“It seldom happens in the negotiation of treaties, of whatever

nature, but that perfect secrecy and immediate despatch are

sometime requisite. There are cases where the most useful

intelligency may be obtained, if the persons possessing it can

be relieved from apprehensions of discovery. Those apprehensions

will operate on those persons whether they are actuated by

mercenary or friendly motives; and there doubtless are many

of both descriptions, who would rely on the secrecy of the

President, but who would not confide in that of the Senate, and

still less in that of a large popular assembly.”

Jay’s explanation is dominated by the conception which the eighteenth

century had of the functions of diplomacy and the conditions of its

work. The constitutional system as conceived at that time implied

(1) Full power of negotiation in the President, (2) Taking counsel

with the Senate, (3) Formal ratification of treaties by the Senate,

and publication thereof as parts of the law of the land. The system

has been highly praised by European publicists as reconciling the

maintenance of confidential relations with publicity of the results, in

that treaties are given the character of laws.

In the course of the nineteenth century there occurred many instances

resulting in a growing practice of making special agreements by the

Secretary of State alone, without the advice and consent of the Senate.

When President Roosevelt in 1905 attempted to deal with the Dominican

situation in this manner, the Senate objected and insisted that all

international agreements of any kind must be submitted to its action.

The system of the United States, however, actually permits of the

current conduct of foreign affairs without information to the people or

even without constant and complete information to the Senate which is,

moreover, usually preoccupied with matters of internal legislation.

In England, the mother of Parliaments, we might expect that there

should have been a constant effort at parliamentary control of

foreign affairs, with strong remonstrance when effective control was

denied; yet on account of the specific nature of the system of Cabinet

government, such has not been the case. Under the two-party system as

it exists in England the conduct of foreign affairs is always in the

hands of a minister trusted and supported by the majority in the Lower

House. Even if the minority should attempt to censor the conduct of

foreign affairs as being carried on apart from the knowledge and active

consent of the House, the majority whose leaders form the Cabinet which

is managing things, will always prevent such a vote from succeeding.

Only in case of a cabinet going absolutely and openly counter to the

policy of its own party in Parliament could a real conflict of this

nature arise; and such a contingency is itself impossible, because of

the party control exercised by the cabinet.

According to the theory of the Stuarts, the management of foreign

affairs belonged entirely to the Crown which had not at that time been

put in commission. In 1677 the House of Commons objected to granting

money for alliances and for wars, unless the matter in question had

been previously communicated to it. Charles II, however, declared the

conduct of foreign affairs to be the Crown’s fundamental prerogative

in which it must remain free from direct control of Parliament.

William III was in fact to a very large extent his own Minister for

Foreign Affairs. With the introduction of responsible Government

under the Hanoverians, however, the situation changed. The dominant

party being represented by the ministers was quite ready to submit to

their guidance in matters of foreign affairs. It was the opposition

who occasionally attacked the government on its foreign policy, and

particularly the opposition in the House of Lords. In a Lords’ protest

of March 26, 1734, it was urged that “the interposition of the British

Parliament would be more effectual than the occasional expedients of

fluctuating and variable negotiations.” In 1740 it was moved that a

select committee consisting of peers should be appointed to inquire

into the conduct of the Spanish War. The motion was rejected. Another

Lords’ protest in the same year opposes the argument that absolute

secrecy is essential because this claim is often used in bar of all

inquiries. Such secrecy is “much oftener the refuge of guilt than the

resort of innocence.”

Wyndham, in 1733, on a motion calling for certain letters of

instructions, argued for the necessity of giving such information to

Parliament. He asked how could members of the House of Commons judge

of the estimates to be laid before them as a provision for national

safety if they did not know by what danger the nation was confronted.

The motion, however, was rejected.

When Pelham was criticized in the House for not having informed

Parliament of the preliminaries of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle he

argued: “If Parliament should encroach upon the prerogative of the

Crown, by assuming a right to make peace or war, and to inquire into

foreign transactions under negotiation, our affairs will be reduced

to a dangerous predicament; for no foreign State will negotiate with

our ministers, or conclude any treaty with them, either political or

commercial.” This is an argument often made in the eighteenth century

to show the unwisdom of Parliamentary control. The change of ministers

following party changes in the House, and the fact that the Foreign

Minister would not by his own word be able to give complete assurances

to foreign governments, were considered to put the British Government

under a disadvantage in negotiations. It was therefore considered

undesirable that negotiations should be submitted to the control and

sanction of Parliament. Walpole had stated the matter in the following

words:

“Therefore while our happy constitution remains entire, while the

Parliament meets but once a year, and does not continue assembled

above three or four months in the twelve, it is impossible for

either House of Parliament to intermeddle, much less to prescribe

to the Crown, in any affairs relating to peace or war, without

exposing the nation to imminent danger.”

Throughout the nineteenth century Parliament interfered very little

with the conduct of foreign affairs. The minister for foreign affairs

or the premier would from time to time give information or make a

systematic discourse on foreign affairs and it was understood that

the House would be kept informed concerning the aims and tendencies

of the Government’s foreign policy. Specific questions were asked by

members but not frequently. The nature of the British system would have

rendered unmeaning any struggle for control between the House and the

Cabinet.

The manner of keeping Parliament and the public informed on foreign

affairs was discussed. The Earl of Clarendon spoke of the practice of

laying before Parliament official information in the _Blue Books_. He

stated:

“I am perfectly certain there is always laid before Parliament

a very fair and complete view of the transactions between this

country and any other to which those papers may relate. I know

that foreign Governments rather complain of our Blue Books, and

to a certain extent they may curtail some of the communications

that are made to our foreign Ministers, but I should be extremely

sorry to see our system of publication of diplomatic papers in

any way curtailed, or different from what it is; of course,

there must always be care taken not to compromise individuals

for the information they have given, but I believe it is an

immense advantage to this country that our despatches and

diplomatic transactions should be known, because if they have the

approbation of Parliament and of the country, the Government then

has the whole weight of public opinion in its favor, and it is

that which gives such strength to our policy and to our opinions

in foreign countries.”

That is a very statesmanlike presentation of the advantages of constant

public knowledge of foreign policy in giving the government a secure

base of intelligent support.

When dissatisfaction or doubt was felt by large numbers concerning the

foreign policy of the government, as in 1857 and again in 1878 after

the concealment of the Schuvalof agreement, complaint was frequently

made in Parliament and in the press to the effect that Parliament on

the one hand was not given a chance to acquire a complete knowledge

of foreign policy, and on the other it was not sufficiently alert and

active in using its opportunities for control. In 1886 the following

resolution was moved:

“That in the opinion of this House it is not just or expedient

to embark in war, contract engagements involving grave

responsibilities for the nation, and add territories to the

Empire, without the knowledge and consent of Parliament.”

Like other similar resolutions, it did not pass. Mr. Gladstone opposed

it on the ground that the House of Commons under existing arrangements

actually possessed all necessary power of control and that the passage

of this resolution would mean simply that the House of Lords would

share this power with it.

In 1885 when Earl Granville had objected to public criticism of

negotiations which were still in progress between Russia and Great

Britain regarding Afghanistan, Lord Salisbury made the following

interesting and important statement with respect to the relations of

foreign policies to public opinion, which in temper resembles that of

Lord Clarendon cited above:

“The noble Earl seemed to me to lay down a doctrine which

we cannot pass unnoticed, when he says it is the duty of

an Opposition not to canvas or condemn the conduct of the

Government, if by so doing it should have the effect of

discouraging friends and allies in other parts of the world.

That seems to be a very far-reaching doctrine, and one which it

is impossible to assent to.... If we are of opinion that the

course of public affairs is going ill, and that our Government

has mismanaged, that faults are being committed and dangers are

being incurred, we have no absolute Sovereign to whom we can

appeal in order to correct the evil; our absolute Sovereign is

the people of this country, and it is they, and they alone, who

can bring a remedy to the mischief which is going on. You have

a form of Government which in many points is purely democratic,

and you must take it with the incidents which naturally adhere to

it, and one of these incidents is publicity of deliberation. The

Cabinet is the people, and their deliberations are conducted in

the open field. If they are to be rightly informed, you must deal

fully and frankly with the subjects which form the basis of their

determination. It is, no doubt, a drawback so far as it goes, but

it is a drawback you must face, and you cannot help it if Foreign

Powers overhear, so to speak, the privileged communications

between you and those by whose verdict you must stand. You cannot

suppress the argument because somebody else outside hears it and

you may be adversely affected by it....”

The concealment of important obligations and the growing secrecy of

diplomatic affairs during the first decade of the Twentieth Century

brought on many expressions of dissatisfaction in the House of Commons.

After the secret agreement concerning Morocco became known, Mr. John

Dillon expressed himself as follows, in a speech in the House of

Commons in September, 1911:

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