Infallibility cannot be expected in the handling of foreign affairs,

whether under a broad discretion of statesmen or under strict

democratic control. There will always be an alternative of wisdom

and rashness, constructive planning and headlong action, carefulness

and negligence. But past experience has certainly established beyond

peradventure of doubt that secret diplomacy is not infallible, and

particularly that diplomacy acting under absolutist traditions,

as in Germany before the war, may make the most fatal mistakes of

judgment and of policy. Balfour said: “I do not think the Government

in June, 1914, had the slightest idea that there was any danger

ahead.” A remarkable statement, when we consider the actions and

reactions of secret diplomacy during the decade preceding the war.

It has been quite truly said that diplomacy is far more eminent in

autopsy than in diagnosis. M. Cheradame somewhat severely observes,

“The typical diplomat lives in a world of his own. His information is

rarely obtained by direct observation of people and facts.” And while

ordinarily men of exceptional talents are selected for the difficulty

position of Minister for Foreign Affairs, yet all considered, it

is hard to believe that were decisions on the essential matters of

international life made on a broader basis, and influenced more by a

direct action of public opinion, the result would be less wise.

Active participation of the people in the making of momentous decisions

regarding foreign affairs, is denied either under the assumption that

the people might not be ready to face the fateful test, or, by the

majority, with the thought that the people are too excitable and rash

to be trusted with such far-reaching decisions. While it is indeed easy

to generate warlike excitement among the masses, it must be remembered,

when such a charge of rashness is made, that the people have never

been currently informed of the development of international dangers,

but usually at a critical time shreds of information have been flashed

on them, designed or at least apt to stir up all their atavistic love

of fight and fear of attack. Even thus, the greatest noise is made

usually by those who do not in the event of hostilities actually have

to risk their blood and bones.

It stands to reason that if honestly kept informed about international

relationships, the people would be far less prone to sudden excitement.

Very few people indeed appear to doubt that had the decision of war

or no war been laid before the peoples of Europe in 1914, with a full

knowledge of the facts, the terrible catastrophe would never have come

about. As Mr. Lowes Dickinson has said, if the people had been allowed

to share the apprehension and precautions of the diplomats before 1914,

there would have been quite a simple and clear question before the

English people, for one. It could have decided whether it would pursue

a policy that might lead at any moment to a general European war, or

to take the alternative which Sir Edward Grey later spoke of, namely,

“to promote some arrangement, to which Germany could be a party by

which she could be assured that no aggressive or hostile policy would

be pursued against her by France, Russia and ourselves, jointly or

separately.” Without the support of the people, kept in line by fear of

hidden dangers, not even the militarists of Germany could have forced

military action.

One of the first acts of the Russian Soviet Government was to announce

its hostility to secret diplomacy. When it first published the secret

treaties and documents of the Czarist Government, its motive was,

as shown by Trotsky’s declaration made at the time, thoroughly to

discredit the management of affairs under the old régime. In the same

connection, it announced its own purpose of conducting foreign affairs

in the open. Such seems indeed to have been its general practice with

respect to the announcement of policies, though its agents continued

to use underground methods. One thing, however, the Soviet Government

is evidently trying to bring about, namely, a broad public interest

in the conduct of foreign affairs. It desires the Russian people, and

more particularly the members of the ruling Communist Party, to be

currently informed about the progress of international affairs and

about arrangements concluded. Observers report that at the meeting of

the provincial soviets the first business ordinarily taken up is the

reading and discussion of a report on international relations sent by

the central government. We have no means to check up the truth of these

reports; but this effort to interest the broad mass of the population

in the outward relations of the state is certainly worth notice. The

expectation is encouraged that the reason for acts relating to foreign

affairs will be explained, particularly when sacrifices are demanded.

XIII

A SURVIVAL OF ABSOLUTISM

Those who view the modern state as a purely predatory

organization,--for exploitation within and without,--point to the

methods, practices and results of diplomacy as one of the plainest

indications of the sinister nature of the political state. Such

criticism cannot be safely brushed aside as utterly unreasonable; it

should rather call forth a searching inquiry as to whether, as a matter

of fact, the conduct of foreign affairs could not and should not be

brought into greater consonance with genuinely democratic principles,

and be placed on the sound basis of well-informed public support.

No matter what opinion one may hold with respect to the necessity of

secret diplomacy, it must be recognized that this practice involves

a very narrow conception of the active scope of democracy. It is in

fact a historical survival from the period of the absolutist state;

or in other words, that aspect of the modern state which deals with

foreign affairs has retained the character of absolutism. It is a

superstition, in the picturesque sense of that word used by Lowell,

when he defines it as “something left standing over from one of the

world’s witenagemotes to the other.” In this case, indeed the most

recent witenagemote approached the question and proposed a step in

advance towards its solution. But the difficulty still persists.

In its relations with other states, the state is considered to be

absolute, not bound by any laws, responsible only for its own security,

welfare and progressing influence. The struggle for political power

still exists among states, in essentially the same keenness and

rigidity with which it appeared to the eyes of Machiavelli. The

importance of world-wide human relationships, and of international

coöperation in scientific and economic life, has indeed been brought

forth and given its place in the public mind; but because of the manner

in which the conduct of international affairs is actually handled, the

feeling thus generated does not have much chance to influence action at

critical times, when the people are startled and excited by the sudden

revelation of dangers, which awaken in them all the bitter feelings

engendered by the past struggles of mankind.

This survival is given strength by class interests, pride of race, and

by the manipulations of plutocratic control. Where affairs are handled

by a narrow circle of men, no matter how high-minded and how thoroughly

conscious of their public responsibility, yet with the necessary

limitations of the human mind, they cannot but be influenced at every

turn by the opinions of others with whom they are actually in contact;

so that in decisions on these momentous matters, the thing which is

concretely present is very often an interest comparatively narrow in

itself, and related to the public welfare only by a series of remote

inferences which are accepted at their face value. The most successful

statesman of the nineteenth century said that the whole Balkan question

was not worth the bones of one Pomeranian grenadier; yet his successors

in power risked the very existence of the nations of Europe for one

phase of that question.

Powerful interests will always have means, formal or informal, to lay

their needs and desires before the men in power. They may indeed be

very important and may deserve special attention, but unfortunately,

many cases have happened in which their point of view has been adopted

without making sure that there existed a general public interest

sufficiently important to warrant taking the risks involved.

A diplomatic caste recruited from a certain class of society, trained

in the traditions of authority, in contact all the time with men of

similar views and principles, cannot in the nature of things free

itself from the limitations of such environment and such training.

From the personal point of view diplomacy has adhered to the belief

in the superior intelligence, ability and foresight in the handling

of foreign affairs, on the part of those who by inherited traditions

and special experience may be said to belong to a caste distinguished

from the mass of humanity. Some one has said, there is a great danger

in that there exists a caste of people who have taken the making of

history as their profession; who still cling to the erroneous idea

that the manipulation of large masses of people, the redistribution of

territories, and the modification of the natural processes of grouping

and settlement, is history. But such people who believe they are making

history are really obstructing it. Even so unusual a man as Bismarck,

working as he did on a great national problem, did not gain lasting

success in action whereby he endeavored to anticipate the developments

of history. The artful contrivance and harsh, ruthless execution

of many of his plans left a heritage of evil to the world; but the

greatest evil lay in the example given by so successful a man in making

it seem that history could actually thus be made. The attitude which

is taken in behalf of such men, in claiming for them a completely free

and full discretion in controlling foreign affairs, recalls a statement

made by H. G. Wells concerning a British leader: “He believes that

he belongs to a particularly gifted and privileged class of beings

to whom the lives and affairs of common men are given over--the raw

material for brilliant careers. It seems to him an act of insolence

that the common man should form judgments on matters of statecraft.”

The diplomats of the old school indeed do require the people, but only

as material with which to work out their grandiose projects. Their view

not too distantly resembles that of the German militarists to whom

ordinary humanity existed only for one purpose, “to do their damn’d

duty.”

We should naturally expect to find the greatest secrecy and the

most callous use of secretive methods, where absolutism remains

most completely established. In the last remaining absolutism,

that of Japan, these expectations are fulfilled, both as regards

carefully-guarded secrecy of all diplomatic action, and the habitual

use of well phrased declarations of a theoretical policy, announced for

public consumption, but bearing only a Platonic relation to the details

of actual doings. But more liberally governed states have not by any

means all freed themselves from this practice, even to the extent of

faithfully keeping the representative bodies, and the public, informed

of the true character and aims of important national policies.

During the discussions of the last few years, a great many remedies

for this state of affairs have been suggested. The Constitutional

practice of the United States has been taken as a model in England

in the suggestion that there should be a representative committee on

foreign affairs in the House of Commons, which should keep in constant

touch with the diplomatic officials and supervise the conduct of

foreign relations; that there should be at least two days given to

the discussion of the Foreign Office Vote; that there should be full

reports made on the progress of all important negotiations; and that

treaties and alliances should not be concluded, nor war made, without

a previous authorization on the part of Parliament. The last formal

proposal of this kind was the motion made in March, 1918, in the

House of Commons, the opposition to which by Mr. Balfour has already

been alluded to. That he should object particularly to the prying

into foreign affairs on the part of persons “not responsible,” and by

“politicians,” that the proposed committee of the House of Commons

should be thus characterized, throws light on the prejudices involved;

but it also reveals the absurdity of the present arrangement from the

point of view of free government. In France there has existed, since

1902, a standing committee on foreign and colonial affairs in the

Chamber of Deputies.

When he was premier, in 1920, Signor Giolliti introduced a bill

carrying the following provision: “Treaties and International

understandings, whatever be their subject and character, are valid only

after they have been approved by Parliament. The Government of the

King can declare war only with the approval of the two Chambers.” The

ministry of Giolliti fell before this sound measure could be passed.

It may be questioned whether many of the arrangements suggested could

be more than palliatives, as long as an intelligent and constant public

interest in foreign affairs has not been aroused, and as long as the

absolutist aspect of foreign policy continues. The suggestion that war

should not be made without a previous national referendum, has indeed

logic on its side from the point of view of the democratic theory of

state, but it has thus far not entered into the state of practical

consideration.

The most important remedy as yet attempted is the provision in the

Covenant of the League of Nations, that all treaties shall be made

public. No greater encouragement, indeed, could be given to the growth

of confidence and the destruction of baneful suspicions and fears,

throughout international life, than if it were possible to assure

the nations of the world that all engagements imposing international

obligations of any kind whatsoever would be made known immediately

upon their conclusion. This provision of the Covenant has already

gone into force, and numerous new treaties have been submitted, even

by governments who are not as yet members of the League. But certain

governments have delayed compliance in cases where treaties are known

to have been made secretly. As there is no specific sanction for this

provision in the Covenant, and as actually binding agreements can be

made without taking the form of a treaty or convention, this remedy

is not in itself powerful enough to remove the evil. If two or three

states are willing to keep an engagement secret at the risk of later

incurring a certain amount of opprobrium when the fact is discovered,

there is no means as yet available for obliging them to abandon such

course. Nevertheless, this provision of the Covenant constitutes

a great advance in the work of placing the public business of the

world on the only sound basis, and cultivating that confidence upon

which depends the future immunity of mankind from constant danger of

suffering and destruction. It will, however, not be a real remedy

until the nations agree actually to outlaw all secret agreements as a

conspiracy against the general welfare and safety.

The other important advance made in the Covenant is found in the

provisions for the investigation of any cause of conflict before

hostilities shall be resorted to. If after the first shock of

excitement, which accompanies the revelation of a serious international

crisis, public opinion can be given a certain space of time to inform

itself, then it may indeed be hoped that a different temper will

control the giving of the fateful doom of war. As Count Czernin has

stated, on the night of August 4, 1914, between the hours of nine and

midnight the decision as to whether England would come into the war,

lay with the German Government. A system under which such tremendous

issues have to be decided in such a manner, is absurd to the verge of

insanity.[E]

[E] A German writer puts the blame for the outbreak of the

war on the telegraph. He says that if there had been no

telegraphic communication between the capitals, the fatal

crisis would not have arisen; there would have been time

for reflection and a decision to make war would never have

been taken in blood.

While the above arrangements, if they could be effectively carried out,

would undoubtedly serve to moderate the evils which now result from

the conduct of international affairs on so narrow a basis, yet it is

difficult to expect from them more than relatively superficial results.

It is only if a new spirit can be developed among the nations, and if

the absolutist conception of the state as far as it still remains, can

be transformed into something more consonant with the complexity and

delicacy of human relationships, that we may hope to hail the dawn of a

new era. It would be as great a transformation as that which separates

the Pagan from the Christian ideal. Mankind is still somewhat blinded

by the glitter and pageantry of the absolutist state; the pride of

power manifests itself now particularly in foreign intercourse. When

Portugal became a republic, it desired at first to abolish the entire

diplomatic establishment, and to allow all international business

to be done by the consuls. That proposal may have resulted from an

instinctive feeling that there was something incompatible between a

really free community, and the sense of absolute power embodied in

diplomacy.

A change can be brought about only when the underlying unity of mankind

is more intensely felt and when the common interests in science,

commerce, industry and the universal language of art are valued at

their true importance to the welfare of the people of all nations.

Joint effort in the constructive work of developing resources,

particularly in the tropics, will make it possible for vastly increased

populations to live in comfort on their present sites, without the need

of crowding each other. A higher valuation of humanity, a more just

proportion in the influence permitted different interests, a keener

scrutiny of traditions and watch-words--all this is necessary. Men

and women to-day feel an intense apprehension, when they think of the

fate of their children in a world in which the unreasoning prejudices

and unenlightened practices that have recently again come to the fore

in international life should prevail, leaving mankind in a dazed

confusion, and pushing the people from time to time into wholesale

slaughter with ever more horrible instruments of destruction. They feel

also that if secret policies, engendering fears and suspicion, are

to continue to be the dominant factor, then all improvement in human

welfare, education and science, will have to be in a large measure

postponed to the preparation of constantly more formidable engines of

death. One cannot but remember the worst imprecations of the Greek

tragic poets and philosophers, on the miserable destiny of man. In

fact, if we should have to believe that no better way could be found

to manage the vital interests of mankind, a great natural catastrophe,

which would extinguish once and for all the miserable breed on this

planet, would almost appear in the light of a redemption.

But we cannot believe that the peoples of the world will be so foolish

as to allow themselves to remain in this condition and not to find

their way to a reorganization of public affairs which will make such a

haphazard and perilous situation impossible. It seems plain that the

idea of the state and of state action will have to be transformed in

accordance with the greater self-consciousness of humanity which has

developed in the last century, or the desire to scrap the political

state and to find some more adequate and natural form of organization

will rapidly gain in strength. Meanwhile, there is a need of the

formation of a great freemasonry of all publicists, political men and

teachers of the people, united in the resolve to know and make known

the essential elements in current international affairs, to arouse the

public to a sense of the importance of these matters to their every-day

life, and to support the men more directly responsible for the conduct

of foreign policy, with an intelligent, searching, reasonable and broad

public opinion.

XIV

RECENT AMERICAN EXPERIENCE

Up until a recent date Americans could contemplate the play of secret

diplomacy in Europe and Asia with a feeling of entire aloofness,

as belonging to a political society which had neither need nor

inclination to utilize such methods. Our unmenaced continental

position, the natural protection and separation implied in distance

and ocean boundaries, and the conscious intention of keeping clear of

international entanglements, all contributed to make the foreign policy

of the United States entirely public and straightforward. The fathers

of the Constitution had established the sound principle that treaties

are the law of the land. This not only involves mature consideration of

a treaty before it is made, but publicity as well. The American people

have known at all times what obligations had been incurred, and the

world had the same information. There has been no room for guesswork

and suspicion.

The instructions which were issued to John Jay when he was sent as

special envoy to England in 1794 lay down the following rule of

conduct: “It is the President’s wish that the characteristics of an

American minister should be marked on the one hand by a firmness

against improper compliances, and on the other by sincerity, candor,

truth and prudence, and by a horror of finesse and chicane.” These

straightforward words began a tradition which has ever since animated

the American diplomatic service. When after the Spanish war, under

Secretary Hay, American diplomacy entered more fully into world-wide

problems than in any previous era, the expression “the new diplomacy”

was currently used in a laudatory sense to designate what Hay had

implied when in a public address he had declared the Golden Rule to

be the cardinal principle of American diplomacy--an ideal which makes

secrecy and intrigue unnecessary.

In order to give the public an opportunity of informing itself

concerning the conduct and development of foreign affairs, the United

States Government has from an early date published an annual collection

of diplomatic correspondence. Since 1861, this publication is known

as _Papers Relating to the Foreign Relations of the United States_.

It was formerly published within two or three years of the year to

which it related, but during the war this interval was considerably

extended. The precedents and principles elaborated in the diplomatic

correspondence of the United States have been collected, codified

and published in a very important and useful compendium by Francis

Wharton, under the title of _Digest of International Law_. This work

was expanded, amplified and brought down to date by Prof. John Bassett

Moore, under the same title, in 1906. It is of the highest importance,

not only as a repository of diplomatic and legal precedent, but as

a definite and public record of the position taken by the American

Government on all international questions that had arisen up to the

date of its publication. The preparation of such digest on the part

of other governments is highly to be desired for the purpose of

clarifying international law and policy, and for giving them a sound

basis of reason and experience upon which the people and governments

may rely. The fact that a precedent reported in this digest, might be

cited against the American Government as an admission, does not imply

a disadvantage which would at all offset the benefits resulting in

general from public knowledge.

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