doings? The Africans have had their Zionists, who wish to lead them back
to their native forests in Africa, and many people have recently fancied
that the problem would be solved by forcible deportation to the
Philippines. These dreams are useless; nine million people cannot be
dumped on the other side of the ocean, cannot be torn from their homes.
Least of all could they be brought to combine with the entirely
different population of the Philippines. More than that, the South
itself would fight tooth and nail against losing so many labourers; it
would be industrially ruined, and would be more grievously torn up than
it was after the Civil War, if in fact some magic ship could carry every
black to the negro republic of Liberia, on the African coast. For the
same reason it is impracticable to bring together all negroes in one or
two Southern States and leave them to work out their own salvation. In
the first place, no state would be willing to draw this black lot, while
the white population of the other Southern States would suffer fully as
much. The student of social politics, finally, cannot doubt for a moment
that the negro progresses only when he is in constant contact with white
men, and degenerates with fearful speed when he is left to himself.
Among those negroes who have been called to be the leaders of their
people, and who form an independent opinion of the situation, one finds
two very different tendencies. One of these is to reform from the top
down, the other from the bottom up. The energies of Dubois are typical
of the first tendency, Booker Washington’s of the second. Dubois, and
many of the most educated and advanced negroes with him, believe in the
special mission of the negro race. The negro does not want to be, and
ought not to be, a second order of American, but the United States are
destined by Providence to develop two great and diverse but co-operating
peoples, the Americans and the negroes. It is therefore the work of the
African not simply to imitate the white man’s culture, but to develop
independently a special culture suited to his own national traits. They
feel instinctively that a few great men of special physiognomy, two or
three geniuses coming from their race, will do more for the honour of
their people and for the belief in its possibilities, than the slow
elevation of the great mass. They lay strong emphasis on the fact that
in his music, religion, and humour the negro has developed strongly
individual traits, and that the people who forty years ago were in
slavery have developed in a generation under unfavourable circumstances
a number of shining orators, politicians, and writers. Thus they feel a
most natural ambition to make away for the best and strongest, to
elevate them, and to incite them to their highest achievements. The
ideal is thus, in the work of the most gifted leaders to present to the
world a new negro culture, by which the right of independent existence
for the black race in America may be secured.
Booker Washington and his friends wish to go a quieter road; and he has
with him the sympathies of the best white people in the country. They
look for salvation not from a few brilliantly exceptional negroes, but
from the slow and steady enlightenment of the masses; and their real
leaders are to be not those who accomplish great things as individuals,
but rather they who best serve in the slow work of uplifting their
people. These men see clearly that there are to-day no indications of
really great accomplishments and independent feats in the way of
culture, and that such things are hardly to be looked for in the
immediate future. At the very best it is a question of an unusual talent
for imitating an alien culture.
If, then, one can hardly speak of brilliant genius in the upper
strata—and it is to be admitted that Booker Washington himself is not a
really great, independent, and commanding personality—it would be on the
other hand much more distorted to estimate the negro from his lowest
strata, from the lazy and criminal individuals. The great mass of
negroes is uneducated and possesses no manual training for an
occupation; but it is honest, healthy, and fit social material, which
only needs to be trained in order to become valuable to the whole
community. First of all, the negro ought to learn what he has once
learned as a slave—a manual trade; he should perfect himself in work of
the hands or in some honest agricultural occupation, not seek to create
a new civilization, but more modestly to identify his race with the
destinies of the white nation by real, honest, thoughtful, true, and
industrious labour. Brilliant writers they do not need so much as good
carpenters and school-teachers; nor notable individual escapades in the
tourney-field of culture so much as a general dissemination of technical
training. They need schools for manual training and institutes for the
development of technical teachers.
Booker Washington’s own institution in Tuskegee has set the most
admirable example, and the most thoughtful men in the North and South
alike are very ready to help along all his plans. They hope and believe
that so soon as the masses of coloured people have begun to show
themselves somewhat more useful to the industry of the country as
hand-workers, expert labourers, and farmers, that then the mutual
embitterment will gradually die out and the fight for social equality
slowly vanish. For on this point the more thoughtful men do not deceive
themselves; social equality is nothing but a phrase when it is applied
to the relation of millions of people to other millions. Among the
whites themselves no one ever thinks of any real social equality; the
owner of a plantation no more invites his white workmen in to eat with
him than he would invite a coloured man. And when the Southern white
replies scornfully to any one who challenges his prejudices, with the
convincing question, “Would you let your sister marry a nigger?” he is
forgetting, of course, that he himself would not let his sister marry
nine-tenths of the white men of his community. Social equality can be
predicated only of small groups, and in all exactness only of
individuals.
Thus it might be said that peace is advanced to-day chiefly by the
increasing exertions for the technical industrial education of the black
workman. But it is not to be forgotten that the negro himself, and with
him many philanthropists of the North, comprehends the whole situation
very differently from the Southern supporters of the movement. These
latter are contented with recent tendencies, because the negro’s vote is
curtailed in the political sphere, and because he comes to be classed
socially with the day-labourer and artisan. The negro, however, looks on
this as a temporary stage in his development, and hopes in good time to
outgrow it. He is glad that the election returns are no longer falsified
on his account, and that legal means have been resorted to. But of
course he hopes that he will soon grow beyond these conditions, and be
finally favoured once more with the suffrage, just as any white man is.
It is much the same in the social sphere. He may be satisfied for the
present that the advantages of manual training and farm labour are
brought to the fore, but this must only be to lead his race up step by
step until it has developed from a mere working class to entire social
equality. That which the negro approves for the moment is what any white
man in the Southern States would fix as a permanent condition. And so it
appears that even in this wise no real solution of the problem has been
reached, although a cessation of hostilities has been declared. But all
these efforts on the part of leaders and philanthropists, these
deliberations of the best whites and blacks in both the North and South,
are still far from carrying weight with the general public; and thus,
although the beginnings toward improvement are good, it remains that on
the outside the situation looks to-day darker than ever before.
Whoever frees himself from theoretical doctrines will hardly doubt that
the leading whites of the Southern States have to-day once more the
better insight, since they know the negro better than the Northerners
do. They demand that this limitation of the negro in his political
rights and in his daily occupation shall be permanent, and that thus an
organic situation shall come about in which the negro, although far
removed from an undeserved slavery, shall be equally far from the
complete enjoyment of that civilization which his own race has not
worked out. That is, he is to be politically, economically, and socially
dependent. If this had happened at the outset, the mutual hatred which
now exists would never have been so fierce; and if the African succeeds
materially he will hardly notice the difference, while the white man
will feel with satisfaction that his superiority has been vindicated.
The condition of the island of Jamaica is a good instance in point. Its
inhabitants are strikingly superior to the debased negroes of the
Republic of Hayti.
But it is not to be forgotten that history has repeatedly shown how
impossible it is for a people numbering millions, with limited rights,
to dwell in the midst of an entirely free race. Oppression and injustice
constantly arise from the limitation of rights, and thence grow
retaliation and crime. And the hour in which the American people narrow
down the rights of ten million blacks may be the starting-point for
fearful struggles. The fact remains that the real solution of the
question is nowhere in sight. The negro question is the only really dark
cloud on the horizon of the American nation.
CHAPTER NINE
_Internal Political Problems_
The problems of population, especially those concerning the immigration
and the negro, have taken considerable of our attention. We shall be
able to survey problems of internal politics more quickly, since we have
already met most of them in considering the American form of government.
The insane programme of those who desire no government at all, that is,
anarchy, is one of the American’s political problems only when the deed
of some foreign assassin gives him a sudden fright. Then all sorts of
propositions are on foot to weed out anarchism stem and root; but after
a little time they subside. One sees how difficult it is to draw the
lines, and the idea of suppressing free political speech is too much
against the fundamental principles of the American democracy. But the
fundamental principles of anarchism, or rather its fundamental
confusions, have so little hope of influencing the conservative ideas of
the Americans, that there need be no fear of anarchism creeping into the
national mind. In so far as there is any such problem in America, it is
connected solely with the question of immigration. Up to the present
time, the government has been content to forbid acknowledged anarchists
to land; but this involves such an un-American intermeddling with
private convictions that the regulation will hardly be tolerated much
longer. The true American, in any case, believes in state ordinances and
loves his governmental machinery.
This apparatus itself of government has many details which offer
problems, indeed, and are much discussed. Some of its elements have been
added recently by President Roosevelt; the most important of them is the
newly created Department of Commerce and Labour. This new division of
the government, with over ten thousand officials, embraces also the
Bureau of Corporations, which is designed to collect statistics
regarding trusts and the overcoming of their influence; but the struggle
promises to be a two-sided one. To the present administration belongs
also the creation of a general staff for the Army, and on this head
there seems to be a unanimous opinion that the Army is distinctly
benefited by the measure. In some other directions, moreover, the
make-up of the Army has become more similar to European models; new
schools of war have been founded and the plan of holding great manœuvres
introduced. The weakness of the military system is that preferments go
according to seniority. It is clear to all that a merely mechanical
advancement of officers is not advantageous to the military service; and
yet everybody is afraid, if the uniform principle is given up and
personal preferment is introduced, that all sorts of regrettable
political and social influences will be brought to bear in the matter.
Many persons see a difficult problem here; the young officer has almost
no incentive to-day to special exertions.
The government has more and various plans with regard to the Navy.
There, too, it seems as if a general staff similar to that of the Army
is indispensable. The steady growth of the Navy itself is assured, since
everyone recognizes that America could not carry out its present policy
without a strong fleet. The fleet, which dates virtually from 1882, won
the hearts of the imperialistic public by its victories at Manila and
Santiago; and its growth is nowhere seriously opposed. Likewise, the
Navy is introducing more large manœuvres. The real difficulty lies in
lack of men; it becomes more and more difficult to get officers and
sailors; and even in the question of manning a ship, the inevitable
negro question plays a part.
There are many open questions also in regard to the diplomatic and
consular service. The United States maintains an uncommonly large number
of consuls, whose enterprise is nowhere contested, but whose
preparation, tact, and personal integrity often leave a good deal to be
desired. Their remuneration through fees contributes a good deal toward
creating unwholesome conditions. The personnel of the diplomatic service
is perhaps still more unequal than that of the consular. Since early
times the United States has had the discernment to send some of its most
distinguished men to fill important ambassadorial positions. At a time
when the international relations of the country were still
insignificant, such a position was often given to distinguished authors
and poets, who represented their country at a foreign court in an
intellectual and cultivated way, and contributed much to its esteem.
This can happen no longer, and yet America has had again and again the
good fortune to send to diplomatic positions men of uncommon caliber;
scholars like Andrew D. White, statesmen like John Hay, and brilliant
jurists like Choate. The danger still subsists, however, that men who
are merely rich, and who have done small services to Senators, expect in
return a diplomatic appointment, for the sake of the social glory. There
is a growing desire to make the diplomatic service a regular career, in
which a man progresses step by step.
As to the postal service, the foremost problem is now that of free
delivery in rural districts. The tremendous extent of the country and
the thinness of its population had at first made it a matter of course
that the farmer should fetch his own mail from the nearest village. The
rural letter-carrier was unknown, as he is still unknown in small towns;
every man in the village goes to the post-office to get his newspapers
and letters. But like every country at the present time, the United
States is trying to check the continual afflux of population into the
cities. It is obvious that specially with the intellectual make-up of
the American, every effort must be made to make rural life less
monotonous and tiresome, and that it is necessary most of all to
establish ready communication between the remote farm-houses and the
rest of the world. The more frequently and easily the farming people
receive their letters and magazines, so much the less do they feel
tempted to leave the soil. For this reason the very expensive rural
delivery has spread rapidly. In the last year nine thousand new
appointments were made in this service. Another important problem
connected with the Post-Office is the fact that it does not pay for
itself, because it carries printed matter at unprofitably low rates, and
in this way has stimulated to an extraordinary degree the sending of
catalogues and advertising matter. One can see how far this goes from
the fact that a short time ago a factory for medicine sent out so many
copies of a booklet advertising its specific through the so-called
“testimonials,” that a railway train with eight large freight cars was
necessary to carry them to the nearest post-office. Part of the
difficulty comes from the private ownership of the railroads, whose
contracts with the government for carrying the mails involve certainly
no loss to the stockholders.
In similar wise, all of the great departments of government have their
problems, large or small, and the most important of these must be dealt
with when we come to speak of the economic situation. But there is one
problem that is common to all branches of the government; it is the most
important one which concerns internal affairs, and although it is
discussed somewhat less actively to-day than in former years, it
continues none the less in some new form or other to worry the parties,
the government, and more especially public opinion. It is the question
of civil-service reform.
We have touched on this question before when we spoke of the struggles
between parties, and of the motives which bring the individual into the
party service. Some things remain to be said by way of completely
elucidating one of the most important problems of American public life.
To commence with, if we abstract from the civil service in city and
state—although the question is much the same there—that is, if we take
into account only the federal service—we find over a hundred thousand
official appointments: and the question is—Shall these appointments,
with their assured salaries, be distributed to adherents of the party in
power, chiefly with reference to their services to the party, or shall
these positions be removed from all touch with the parties and given to
the best and ablest applicants? It is clear that the problem could
easily be so exhibited that the appointment of the best and most capable
applicant, without reference to his party, should seem to be absolutely
and unequivocally necessary, and as if any other opinion could proceed
only from the desire to work corruption. The situation is not quite so
simple, however.
In the first place, every one is aware that the highest administrative
positions are invariably places of confidence, where it is very
necessary that the incumbent shall be one in thought and purpose with
the Executive; and this is more than ever necessary in a democracy
composed of two parties. If the majority of the people elects a certain
President in order to carry out the convictions of one party in
opposition to the other, the will of the people would be frustrated if
the upper members of the governmental staffs were not to be imbued with
the same party ideas. A Republican President could not work together
with a Democratic Secretary of State without sacrificing the efficiency
of his administration, and struggling along on such compromises as would
ultimately make meaningless the existence of two organized parties. A
Republican Secretary of State must have, however, if he is to be spared
a good deal of friction, an assistant secretary of state with whom he is
politically in harmony; and so it goes on down.
But if we begin at the bottom and work up, the situation looks
different. The book-keeper to the ministry, the small postal clerk, or
the messenger boy in the treasury, has no opportunity to realize his
personal convictions. He has merely his regular task to perform, and is
not immediately concerned whether the policy of state is Republican or
Democratic, imperialistic or anti-imperialistic. We have then to
ask—Where lie the boundaries between those higher positions in which the
private convictions of the incumbents ought properly to be with the
administration, and those lower positions where party questions are in
no way involved?
Opinions vary very widely as to where this boundary lies. Some put it
rather low, and insist that the American by his whole political training
is so thoroughly a creature of the party, that true harmony in state
offices can be had only if the whole service from top to bottom is
peopled with adherents of the ruling party; and this opinion, although
it may be refuted on good grounds, is neither absurd nor dishonest. The
population of Germany is divided to-day into a civil and a
social-democratic party, and it appears to the dominant civil party by
no means unnatural to exclude the social-democrats so far as possible
from participation in the public service.
It is quite possible, moreover, for each party to furnish competent
incumbents for all the leading positions; and so long as capable men can
be found who will acquit themselves well in office, there is of course
no reason for charging the party with greed or spoils-gathering, as if
the public funds were a pure gift, and it were unworthy to accept an
official appointment given in recognition of services to the party. We
have already emphasized how extremely German conceptions differ from
American on this point, and how the customary reiteration in Germany of
the unfavourable comments made by certain American reform enthusiasts,
leads to much misunderstanding. It is well-known that Germany has, for
instance, for the university professors a system of state appointment,
which rests wholly on personal recommendation; this in sharp contrast to
England, where the candidates for every vacant chair must compete, and
where no one can be called who does not compete; or with France, where
the positions are awarded on the basis of an examination.
The considerations which we have stated are not at all to be taken as an
argument against civil-service reform, but only as an indication that
the problem is complicated and has its pros and cons. In fact, the
grounds for the widest possible extension of a civil-service independent
of party are many and urgent. In the first place, the service itself
demands it. The appointments by party are really appointments on the
basis of recommendations and wishes of political leaders. The Senators,
for instance, from a certain state advise the President as to who should
be appointed for postmasters in the most important post-offices; and the
smaller positions are similarly filled on the recommendation of less
influential politicians.
Therefore, it is only to a limited extent that there is any real
estimation of the capacity and fitness of the proposed incumbent. Public
opinion is always watchful, however, and the politician is generally
afraid to press an appointment which he knows would be disapproved by
public opinion, or which would later be seen to be absurd, would damage
his own political credit, and perhaps even wreck his political future.
It is equally true that the political parties have become expert in
sifting human material and finding just the right people for the places;
and that, moreover, the American with his extraordinary capacity for
adaptation and organization easily finds himself at home in any position
and fills it creditably. And yet it remains, that in this way the best
intentioned appointer works in the dark, and that a technical
examination would more accurately select the fittest man from among the
various candidates.
Most of all, by this method of appointment on the ground of political
influence, where the petitions of the incumbent’s local friends,
commendatory letters from well-known men, and the thousand devices of
the wire-puller play an important part, the feeling of individual
responsibility is always largely lost. The head of the department must
rely on local representatives, and these politicians again know that
they do not themselves actually make the appointments; and the candidate
is put into office with no exertion on his own part—almost passively.