The widest experience has been had by the great nation whose people and

institutions are nearest like our own. Illustrations of her successful

methods may be found in Egypt and in many British dependencies, but,

for our purposes, probably best of all either on the Malay Peninsula or

on the north coast of Borneo, where she has had the happiest results in

dealing with intractable types of the worst of these same races. Some

rules drawn from this experience might be distasteful to people who

look upon new possessions as merely so much more government patronage,

and quite repugnant to the noble army of office-seekers; but they

surely mark the path of safety.

The first is to meddle at the outset as little as possible with every

native custom and institution and even prejudice; the next is to use

every existing native agency you can; and the next to employ in the

government service just as few Americans as you can, and only of the

best. Convince the natives of your irresistible power and your

inexorable purpose, then of your desire to be absolutely just, and

after that--not before--be as kind as you can. At the outset you will

doubtless find your best agents among the trained officers of the Navy

and the Army, particularly the former. On the retired list of both, but

again particularly of the Navy, ought to be found just the experience

in contact with foreign races, the moderation, wide views, justice,

rigid method, and inflexible integrity, you need. Later on should come

a real civil service, with such pure and efficient administration

abroad as might help us ultimately to conclude that we ourselves

deserve as well as the heathen, and induce us to set up similar

standards for our own service at home. Meantime, if we have taught the

heathen largely to govern themselves without being a hindrance and

menace to the civilization and the commerce of the world, so much the

better. Heaven speed the day! If not, we must even continue to be

responsible for them ourselves--a duty we did not seek, but should be

ashamed to shirk.

V

THE OPEN DOOR

A speech made at the dinner given by the American-Asiatic Association

in honor of Rear-Admiral Lord Charles Beresford, at Delmonico's, New

York, February 23, 1899.

THE OPEN DOOR

The hour is late, you have already enjoyed your intellectual feast, you

have heard the man you came to hear, and I shall detain you for but a

moment. The guest whom we are all here to honor and applaud is

returning from a journey designed to promote the safety and extension

of his country's trade in the Chinese Orient. He has probably been

accustomed to think of us as the most extreme Protectionist nation in

the world; and he may have heard at first of our recent acquisition on

the China Sea with some apprehension on that very account.

[Sidenote: United States a Free-Trade Country.]

Now, there are two facts that might be somewhat suggestive to any who

take that view. One is that, though we may be "enraged Protectionists,"

as our French friends occasionally call us, we have rarely sought to

extend the protective system where we had nothing and could develop

nothing to protect. The other is that we are also the greatest

free-trade country in the world. Nowhere else on the globe does

absolute free trade prevail over so wide, rich, and continuous an

expanse of territory, with such variety and volume of production and

manufacture; and nowhere have its beneficent results been more

conspicuous. From the Golden Gate your guest has crossed a continent

teeming with population and manufactures without encountering a

custom-house. If he had come back from China the other way, from Suez

to London, he would have passed a dozen!

When your Peace Commissioners were brought face to face with the

retention of the Philippines, they were at liberty to consider the

question it raised for immediate action in the light of both sides of

the national practice. Here was an archipelago practically without

manufactures to protect, or need for protection to develop

manufactures; and here were swarming populations with whom trade was

sure to increase and ramify, in proportion to its freedom from

obstructions. Thus it came about that your Commissioners were led to a

view which to many has seemed a new departure, and were finally enabled

to preface an offer to Spain with the remark that it was the policy of

the United States to maintain in the Philippines an open door to the

world's commerce. Great Protectionist leader as the President is and

long has been, he sanctioned the declaration; and Protectionist as is

the Senate, it ratified the pledge.

[Sidenote: The Open Door.]

Under treaty guaranty Spain is now entitled to the Open Door in the

Philippines for ten years. Under the most favored nation clause, what

is thus secured to Spain would not be easily refused, even if any one

desired it, to any other nation; and the door that stands open there

for the next ten years will by that time have such a rising tide of

trade pouring through it from the awakening East that no man

thenceforward can ever close it.

There are two ways of dealing with the trade of a distant dependency.

You may give such advantage to your own people as practically to

exclude everybody else. That was the Spanish way. That is the French

way. Neither nation has grown rich of late on its colonial extensions.

Again, you may impose such import or export duties as will raise the

revenue needed for the government of the territory, to be paid by all

comers at its ports on a basis of absolute equality. In some places

that is the British way. Henceforth, in the Philippines, that is the

United States way. The Dingley tariff is not to be transferred to the

antipodes.

Protectionists or Free-traders, I believe we may all rejoice in this as

best for the Philippines and best for ourselves. I venture to think

that we may rejoice over it, too, with your distinguished guest. It

enables Great Britain and the United States to preserve a common

interest and present a common front in the enormous commercial

development in the East that must attend the awakening of the Chinese

Colossus; and whenever and wherever Great Britain and the United States

stand together, the peace and the civilization of the world will be the

better for it.

VI

SOME CONSEQUENCES OF THE TREATY OF PARIS

This discussion of the advances in International Law and changes in

national policy traceable to the negotiations that ended in the Peace

of Paris, was written in March, for the first number of "The

Anglo-Saxon Review" (then announced for May), which appeared in June,

1899.

SOME CONSEQUENCES OF THE TREATY OF PARIS

In 1823 Thomas Jefferson, writing from the retirement of Monticello to

James Monroe, then President of the United States, said:

Great Britain is the nation which can do us the most harm of any

one on all the earth, and with her on our side we need not fear the

world. With her, then, we should most sedulously cherish a cordial

friendship, and nothing would tend more to knit our affections than

to be fighting once more, side by side, in the same cause.

As these lines are written,[2] the thing which Jefferson looked forward

to has, in a small way, come to pass. For the first time under

government orders since British regulars and the militia of the

American colonies fought Indians on Lake Champlain and the French in

Canada, the Briton and the American have been fighting side by side,

and again against savages. In a larger sense, too, they are at last

embarked side by side in the Eastern duty, devolved on each, of

"bearing the white man's burden." It seems natural, now, to count on

such a friendly British interest in present American problems as may

make welcome a brief statement of some things that were settled by the

late Peace of Paris, and some that were unsettled.

[2] The request of the editor for the preparation of this article

was received just after the British and American forces had their

conflict with the natives in Samoa.

Whether treaties really settle International Law is itself an unsettled

point. English and American writers incline to give them less weight in

that regard than is the habit of the great Continental authorities. But

it is reasonable to think that some of the points insisted upon by the

United States in the Treaty of Paris will be precedents as weighty,

henceforth, in international policy as they are now novel to

international practice. If not International Law yet, they probably

will be; and it is confidently assumed that they will command the

concurrence of the British government and people, as well as of the

most intelligent and dispassionate judgment on the Continent.

[Sidenote: When Arbitration is Inadmissible.]

The distinct and prompt refusal by the American Commissioners to submit

questions at issue between them and their Spanish colleagues to

arbitration marks a limit to the application of that principle in

international controversy which even its friends will be apt hereafter

to welcome. No civilized nation is more thoroughly committed to the

policy of international arbitration than the United States. The Spanish

Commissioners were able to reinforce their appeal for it by striking

citations from the American record: the declaration of the Senate of

Massachusetts, as early as 1835, in favor of an international court for

the peaceful settlement of all disputes between nations; the action of

the Senate of the United States in 1853, favoring a clause in all

future treaties with foreign countries whereby difficulties that could

not be settled by diplomacy should be referred to arbitrators; the

concurrence of the two Houses, twenty years later, in reaffirming this

principle; and at last their joint resolution, in 1888, requesting the

President to secure agreements to that end with all nations with whom

he maintained diplomatic intercourse.

But the American Commissioners at once made it clear that the rational

place for arbitration is as a substitute for war, not as a second

remedy, to which the contestant may still have a right to resort after

having exhausted the first. In the absence of the desired obligation to

arbitrate, the dissatisfied nation, according to the American theory,

may have, after diplomacy has completely failed, a choice of remedies,

but not a double remedy. It may choose arbitration, or it may choose

war; but the American Commissioners flatly refused to let it choose

war, and then, after defeat, claim still the right to call in

arbitrators and put again at risk before them the verdict of war.

Arbitration comes before war, they insisted, to avert its horrors; not

after war, to afford the defeated party a chance yet to escape its

consequences.

The principle thus stated is thought self-evidently sound and just.

Americans were surprised to find how completely it was overlooked in

the contemporaneous European discussion--how general was the sympathy

with the Spanish request for arbitration, and how naïf the apparently

genuine surprise at the instant and unqualified refusal to consider it.

Even English voices joined in the chorus of encouraging approval that,

from every quarter in Europe, greeted the formal Spanish appeal for an

opportunity to try over in another forum the questions they had already

submitted to the arbitrament of arms. The more clearly the American

view is now recognized and accepted, the greater must be the tendency

in the future to seek arbitration at the outset. To refuse arbitration

when only sought at the end of war, and as a means of escaping its

consequences, is certainly to stimulate efforts for averting war at the

beginning of difficulties by means of arbitration. The refusal prevents

such degradation of a noble reform to an ignoble end as would make

arbitration the refuge, not of those who wish to avoid war, but only of

those who have preferred war and been beaten at it. The American

precedent should thus become a powerful influence for promoting the

cause of genuine international arbitration, and so for the preservation

of peace between nations.

[Sidenote: Does Debt Follow Sovereignty?]

Equally unexpected and important to the development of ordered liberty

and good government in the world was the American refusal to accept any

responsibility, for themselves or for the Cubans, on account of the

so-called Cuban debt. The principle asserted from the outset by the

American Commissioners, and finally maintained, in negotiating the

Peace of Paris, was that a national debt incurred in efforts to subdue

a colony, even if called a colonial debt, or secured by a pledge of

colonial revenues, cannot be attached in the nature of a mortgage to

the territory of that colony, so that when the colony gains its

independence it may still be held for the cost of the unsuccessful

efforts to keep it in subjection.

The first intimations that no part of the so-called Cuban debt would

either be assumed by the United States or transferred with the

territory to the Cubans, were met with an outcry from every bourse in

Europe. Bankers, investors, and the financial world in general had

taken it for granted that bonds which had been regularly issued by the

Power exercising sovereignty over the territory, and which specifically

pledged the revenues of custom-houses in that territory for the payment

of the interest and ultimately of the principal, must be recognized.

Not to do it, they said, would be bald, unblushing repudiation--a thing

least to be looked for or tolerated in a nation of spotless credit and

great wealth, which in past times of trial had made many sacrifices to

preserve its financial honor untarnished.

It must be admitted that modern precedents were not altogether in favor

of the American position. Treaties ceding territory not infrequently

provide for the assumption by the new sovereign of a proportional part

of the general obligations of the ceding state. This is usually true

when the territory ceded is so considerable as to form an important

portion of the dismembered country. Even "the great conqueror of this

century," as the Spanish Commissioners exclaimed in one of their

arguments, "never dared to violate this rule of eternal justice in any

of the treaties he concluded with those sovereigns whose territories he

appropriated, in whole or in part, as a reward for his victories." They

cited his first treaty of August 24, 1801, with Bavaria providing that

the debts of the duchy of Deux-Ponts, and of that part of the

Palatinate acquired by France, should follow the countries, and

challenged the production of any treaty of Napoleon's or of any modern

treaty where the principle of such transfer was violated.

They were able to base a stronger claim on the precedents of the New

World. They were, indeed, betrayed into some curious errors. One was

that the thirteen original States, at the close of the Revolutionary

War, paid over to Great Britain fifteen million pounds as their share

of the public debt. Another was that the payment of the Texas debt by

the United States must be a precedent now for its payment of the Cuban

debt--whereas the Texas debt was incurred by the Texas insurgents in

their successful war for independence, while the Cuban debt was

incurred by the mother country in her unsuccessful effort to put down

the Cuban insurgents. But as to the Spanish-American republics, they

were more nearly on solid ground. It was true, and was more to the

point than most of their other citations, that every one of these

Spanish-American republics assumed its debt, that most of them did it

before their independence was recognized, and that they gave these

debts contracted by Spain the preference over later debts contracted by

themselves. The language in the treaty with Bolivia was particularly

sweeping. It assumed as its own these debts of every kind whatsoever,

"including all incurred for pensions, salaries, supplies, advances,

transportation, forced loans, deposits, contracts, and any other debts

incurred during war-times or prior thereto, chargeable to said

treasuries; provided they were contracted by direct orders of the

Spanish government or its constituted authorities in said territories."

The Argentine Republic and Uruguay, in negotiating their treaties,

expressed the same idea more tersely: "Just as it acquires the rights

and privileges belonging to the crown of Spain, so it also assumes all

the duties and obligations of the crown."

The argument was certainly obvious, and at first sight seemed fair,

that what every other revolted American colony of Spain had done, on

gaining its independence, the last of the long line should also do. But

an examination shows that in no case were the circumstances such as to

make it a fair precedent for Cuba. In the other colonies the debts were

largely due to their own people. To a considerable extent they had been

incurred for the prosecution of improvements of a pacific character,

generally for the public good and often at the public desire. Another

part had been spent in the legitimate work of preserving public order

and extending the advantages of government over wild regions and native

tribes.[3] The rich, compact, populous island of Cuba had called for no

such loans up to the time when Spain had already lost all of her

American colonies on the continent, and had consequently no other

dependency on which to fasten her exacting governor-generals and hosts

of other official leeches. There was no Cuban debt. Any honest

administration had ample revenues for all legitimate expenses, and a

surplus; and this surplus seems not to have been used for the benefit

of the island, but sent home. Between 1856 and 1861 over $20,000,000 of

Cuban surplus were thus remitted to Madrid. Next began a plan for using

Cuban credit as a means of raising money to re-conquer the lost

dominions; and so "Cuban bonds" (with the guaranty of the Spanish

nation) were issued, first for the effort to regain Santo Domingo, and

then for the expedition to Mexico. By 1864 $3,000,000 had been so

issued; by 1868 $18,000,000--not at the request or with the consent of

the Cubans, and not for their benefit. Then commenced the Cuban

insurrection; and from that time on, all Spain could wring from Cuba or

borrow in European markets on the pledge of Cuban revenues and her own

guaranty went in the effort to subdue a colony in revolt against her

injustice and bad government. The lenders knew the facts and took the

risk. Two years after this first insurrection was temporarily put down,

these so-called Cuban debts had amounted to over $170,000,000. They

were subsequently consolidated into other and later issues; but

whatever change of form or date they underwent, they continued to

represent practically just three things: the effort to conquer Santo

Domingo, the expedition to Mexico, and the efforts to subdue Cuba. A

movement to refund at a lower rate of interest was begun in 1890, and

for this purpose an issue of $175,000,000 of Spanish bonds was

authorized, to be paid out of the revenues of Cuba, but with the

guaranty of the Spanish nation. Before many had been placed the

insurrection had again broken out. Thenceforward they were used not to

refund old bonds, but to raise money for the prosecution of the new

war. Before its close this indebtedness had been swollen to over double

the figure named above, and a part of the money must have been used

directly in the war against the United States.

[3] One of the author's colleagues at Paris, the Hon. Cushman K.

Davis, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee of the United

States Senate, and among the most scholarly students of

International Law now in American public life, says in a private

letter:

"I was at first very much struck by the unanimity of action

by the South American republics in the assumption of debts

created by Spain. But some reflection upon the subject has

caused that action to lose, to me, much of its apparent

relevancy. There was in none of those cases any funded debt,

in the sense of bond obligations, held in the markets of the

world. There were two parties in the various Spanish

provinces of North and South America, one of which supported

Spanish ascendancy, and the other of which was revolutionary.

The debts created by the exactions of Spain and of the

revolutionary party alike were, mainly if not entirely,

obligations due to the people of the colonies themselves. As

to the continuance of pensions, endowments, etc., it must be

remembered that these were Catholic countries, and that these

obligations ran to a state church, which continued to be a

state church after the colonies had achieved their

independence. As to the Napoleonic treaties cited by the

Spanish Commissioners, they were mere matters of covenant in

a special case, and were not, in my judgment, the result of

any anterior national obligation."

In the negotiations Spain took high moral ground with reference to

these debts. She utterly denied any right to inquire how the proceeds

had been expended. She did not insist for her own benefit on their

recognition and transfer with the territory. She was concerned, not for

herself, but for international morality and for the innocent holders.

Some, no doubt, were Spanish citizens, but many others were French, or

Austrian, or of other foreign nationalities. The bonds were freely

dealt in on the Continental bourses. A failure to provide for them

would be a public scandal throughout civilization; it would cause a

wide-spread and profound shock to the sense of security in national

obligations the world over, besides incalculable injustice and

individual distress.

But the fact was that these were the bonds of the Spanish nation,

issued by the Spanish nation for its own purposes, guaranteed in terms

"by the faith of the Spanish nation," and with another guaranty

pledging Spanish sovereignty and control over certain colonial

revenues. Spain failed to maintain her title to the security she had

pledged, but the lenders knew the instability of that security when

they risked their money on it. All the later lenders and many of the

early ones knew, also, that it was pledged for money to continue

Spain's efforts to subdue a people struggling to free themselves from

Spanish rule. They may have said the morality or justice of the use

made of the money was no concern of theirs. They may have thought the

security doubtful, and still relied on the broad guaranty of the

Spanish nation. At any rate, caveat emptor! The one thing they ought

not to have relied upon was that the island they were furnishing money

to subdue, if it gained its freedom, would turn around and insist on

reimbursing them!

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