of British prestige and influence in Western Europe. To some Americans
Britain may appear a small, almost insignificant power. But to a small
European nation Britain, with its bombers, its atomic and hydrogen
bombs, its thriving new industries, presents a different picture.
Another factor is the gradual movement of Britain toward some form of
union with the Continental nations, as evidenced in the Macmillan
government's approach to a common European market. Finally, there
are doubts about wisdom of United States policy, especially as it is
practiced and elucidated by John Foster Dulles.
Western Europe was not impressed by the statesmanship of Mr. Dulles
at two serious crises: one arising from the possibility of Western
military intervention in Indochina, and the other emerging after the
collapse of the European Defense Community. Nor was Mr. Dulles's
attitude toward America's closest allies, the British, in the period
of British and French intervention in Egypt calculated to create the
impression that the United States, as an ally, would remain true in
good times and bad.
Nowhere has British prestige and influence declined more rapidly as in
the Middle East. Yet nowhere are Britain's economic interests greater.
Recent events have emphasized the economic connection between Britain
and the Middle East. But the ties that connect a group of islands set
in the cold waters of the northern ocean with the arid, sunny lands of
that area were established long before the discovery and exploitation
of oil reserves made the Middle East vital to Britain's economic life.
Sidney Smith, Abercromby, Nelson, Gordon, T.E. Lawrence--a whole
battalion of British heroes won fame in the area. The empty deserts
and clamorous cities have exercised a fascination on Britons for more
than two centuries, have called explorers and scientists, missionaries
and merchants eastward. Nor was the Middle East's strategic importance
to Britain born with oil. Nelson destroyed the French on the Nile,
Kitchener triumphed at Khartoum, and Montgomery fought at El Alamein
because the land bridge between Asia and Africa and later the Suez
Canal were considered vital to the existence of Britain as a world
power.
Centuries of involvement in the Middle East resulted in a strong
British bias in favor of the Arabs. No such favoritism was extended to
the Egyptians as a people, although certainly the British were at first
as willing as the Americans to trust Colonel Abdel Nasser of Egypt.
This bias, amounting in some cases to a blind affection, played its
part in the formulation of British policy especially in the years when
the state of Israel was taking shape. One example is the fact that the
British consistently underrated Jewish military ability and overrated
that of the Arabs.
Egypt's seizure of the Suez Canal on July 26, 1956, was a punctuation
point in the long history of Britain's involvement in the Middle East.
No British government could permit control of the canal to be vested in
a single country, especially a country so openly hostile, without going
to the utmost lengths to break that control. Given the shipping and
pipeline facilities of the summer of 1956, the passage of oil tankers
through the canal was essential to Britain's economic life.
Even when the program for the industrial use of nuclear power has
been completed, oil will remain important to the British economy.
The British government of the day was angry with Colonel Nasser, it
was worried by Soviet infiltration in Egypt. But the primary cause
of Britain's intervention in Egypt was that she could see no other
way of securing freedom of passage through the canal. Reliance on oil
was an elemental fact of Britain's position as a world power; it is
extraordinary that the administration in Washington was so surprised
when Britain took steps to insure her oil supply.
The influence of Britain in the Middle East at the time of intervention
in Egypt was extensive. Tiny states on the Persian Gulf and on the
south side of the Arabian peninsula behind the Aden protectorate were
managed, if not ruled, by a few scores of officials from London. Iraq,
Britain's firmest friend in the Middle East, benefited from British
technicians and advisers. In Egypt and Jordan and Syria, Britain's
prestige had fallen. But as late as January 1956, when I toured the
Middle East, there was an evident respect for Britons and for British
power, a respect which often was difficult to reconcile with the actual
dimensions of that power.
In terms of oil, Britain took a great deal out of the Middle East.
From an altruistic standpoint, the return was small. But it is
important to remember that British power there did not take the same
form as in British colonies. The British could not order schools to be
built or irrigation works to be started; they could, and did, advise
such works.
They were the first power--the United States will be the second--to
encounter the jarring fact that the improvements which a big oil
company brings to a nation promote nationalism. In the end, peoples are
not content with oil royalties, clean company towns, and new schools.
They want all the money, not merely royalties, and they want to build
the towns and schools themselves.
The decline of British power in the Middle East coincided with
the entry into the area of a new power, Soviet Russia. One of the
oddest aspects of the relations between the United States and the
United Kingdom was the calm--almost the indifference--with which the
administration in Washington viewed the entry of Russia into the Middle
East. As late as November 1956, _after_ the British had destroyed large
numbers of Soviet aircraft and tanks in Egypt, the State Department was
undisturbed by intelligence reports that Russia had agreed to make good
the Egyptian losses with new arms shipments.
Because of their economic involvement in the Middle East, the British
undoubtedly will persevere in their efforts to maintain influence in
the area. Early in 1957 all the cards were stacked against them.
One advantage of a long and stormy experience in international affairs
is that it allows a nation to look with equanimity on reverses. After
the withdrawal from Egypt in December 1956, many Britons thought they
would make a comeback in the Middle East. No argument, neither Arab
enmity nor the advent of American and Russian power, could shake this
belief. They did not mean, of course, that they would come back along
the lines of nineteenth-century colonialism. The British recognize
that the days of British rule from the citadel in Cairo are as dead as
Thebes. But with that placid confidence which is one of their most
irritating characteristics, they predicted that in the future, as in
the past, they would play a major role in the area.
When I protested that this was not the view in Washington or, probably,
in Moscow, a soldier-administrator laughed and said: "Oh _they_ thought
we were finished in 1940." But it is in the Middle East that British
hopes and ambitions conflict directly with those of the United States.
And relations with the United States are another story--or at least
another chapter.
[Illustration]
IX. _The Atlantic Alliance_
STRENGTHS AND STRESSES
_If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop
was landed in my country I never would lay down my arms--never! never!
never!_
WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM
_His Britannic Majesty acknowledges the said United States, viz.,
New-Hampshire, Massachusetts-Bay, Rhode-Island and Providence
Plantations, Connecticut, New-York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania,
Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North-Carolina, South-Carolina, and
Georgia to be free, sovereign and independent states; that he treats
with them as such; and for himself, his heirs and successors,
relinquishes all claims to the government, property and territorial
rights of the same, and every part thereof._
TREATY OF PARIS, SEPTEMBER 3, 1783
[Illustration]
The alliance between the United States and the United Kingdom is a
paradox. This intimate association that has fought wars and carried out
the most delicate and intricate diplomatic tasks is not based on any
single treaty or agreement. It is a paradox because, although roundly
attacked from the outset by powerful groups in both countries, the
alliance has grown steadily in strength toward a position in which it
is almost invulnerable to political attack.
This situation is a tribute to the hard-headed appreciation of facts
which lies beneath the political oratory and posturing on both sides
of the Atlantic. For the alliance is not the result of the intrigues
of Anglophiles along the eastern seaboard of the United States or of
the Machiavellian diplomacy of Britons eager for a handout; it is
the result of mutual self-interest. In the dangerous world of the
mid-twentieth century it is the best hope of survival for both nations.
Americans, in the plenitude of power, often ask one another why they
need alliances, and why, in particular, there should exist any special
relationship with Britain. One way of answering the question is to
consider our situation if the United Kingdom were neutral in the world
struggle with the aggressive totalitarianism of the East. There would
then be no United States Air Force bomber bases in Britain. The British
naval bases with their facilities in Britain and the Mediterranean
would no longer be open to the United States. The United Kingdom would
not be a member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. The British
divisions that have helped hold Germany since 1945 would have been
withdrawn. British hydrogen bombs and atomic bombs and the long-range
bombers built to carry them would not be on our side. The position
assumed by the United States at diplomatic meetings would no longer
be supported by the leaders of a stable, experienced power still
possessing considerable influence in many parts of the world.
Finally, the United States could not rely in times of crisis upon the
backing of fifty million people speaking the same language and adhering
to similar political beliefs--people who are resolute, ingenious, and
brave in war, progressive and industrious in peace.
Certainly the alliance is not to everyone's taste. There are and there
always will be urgings in both countries to "go it alone." There are
politicians and statesmen who would place each nation's reliance on
other allies. But custom, usage, common interests have combined to
create the situation; the problem is to see that the alliance works and
to realize its potential in the world.
No one would contend that the United Nations or NATO or the South
East Asia Treaty Organization or any one of half a dozen smaller
associations is not important. But examination shows that all these
rest on the basic union of American and British interests. If that
goes, everything goes.
It follows, therefore, that the popular attitude in Britain toward
the United States and Britain's relationship in international affairs
to the United States is of the utmost importance to both countries.
Understanding it calls for a thorough appreciation of Britain's
position in the world, not as we Americans see it but as the British
themselves see it.
To begin with, let us try to answer that familiar and inevitable
question: "Isn't there a good deal of anti-Americanism in Britain?"
If the question refers to personal dislike of Americans as individuals,
the answer is no. Of course if an American in Britain is noisy and
impolite he will be told off. Britons should expect the same treatment
in the United States under similar circumstances.
Americans as individuals are not disliked in Britain. But an American
must be prepared to encounter searching inquiry and often sharp
criticism about the policies and programs of the United States
government. He will learn that some institutions in the United States
of which we have a high opinion do not similarly impress the British.
Certain groups within British society view various aspects of life in
the United States with reactions ranging from hostility to hilarity.
This is natural. You cannot expect a socialist to be enthusiastic about
capitalism, especially when capitalism is so obviously successful. Nor
can you expect a British conservative to rejoice in the transfer of
world power westward across the Atlantic.
So, inevitably, there are discussions and debates when Americans and
Britons meet. Long may it be so. For this freedom to argue problems
is the very essence of the alliance. It is a means of ironing out
the difficulties that arise. It also emphasizes the common ground on
which we stand, which, put at its simplest, is a mutual belief in the
principles of democratic freedom.
In Germany I often encountered men of education and intellectual
probity who were convinced that a modern state should not have a
democratic form of government and that to encourage democracy was
inadvisable, even dangerous. In Britain or the United States one
often meets men and women who rail against the occasional inanities
of democratic government and deplore its weaknesses. But it is most
unusual to meet someone, save a member of the small band of communists
or fascists, who believes that the British or American people could or
should live under any other system. Differences must be worked out and
are worked out under the cover of this common acceptance of democracy.
This belief does not sound impressive until you talk about the same
subject with a middle-class Frenchman, a German professor, or a Soviet
diplomat.
Although of course there are plenty of people in Britain, as there are
in the United States, who are profoundly uninterested in the alliance
or in any other aspect of international affairs, it can be a salutary
experience to talk about Anglo-American relations with Britons. Often
you encounter candor, honest curiosity, and, sometimes, shrewd judgment.
Such conversations go a long way toward killing the old idea that
Britons--or, specifically, the English--are an aloof, chilly
lot. Aloofness was and, to some extent, still is a middle-class
characteristic. But, like so many other things in Britain, behavior in
public has changed in the last fifteen years. The time has not come
when Britons in a railway compartment will exchange telephone numbers
and photographs of their children, but the old social isolation is
breaking down.
The questions and criticisms that the American encounters are a
good sign. They testify to the average Briton's understanding of
the interdependence of the two countries. As long as the alliance
flourishes there will be and should be such exchanges. They are a
source of satisfaction, not offense.
Moreover, the questions are necessary. There is a dearth of serious
news about the United States in the popular British press, although the
remotest village will be informed of Miss Monroe's chest measurements.
_The Times_ of London, the _Manchester Guardian_, and the _Daily
Telegraph_ do an excellent job of reporting the United States within
the limitations imposed by the paper shortage. The popular press,
however, is something else.
There are, I believe, three factors that contribute to British
questionings and criticisms about United States policies and
statesmanship. These are:
(1) McCarthyism, by which the British mean the political attitude
in the United States which begins at a perceptible trend toward
ideological conformity and, at its worst, imitates totalitarian
measures;
(2) the United States's leadership of the free world, which has been
transferred from Britain in the last fifteen years. Doubts on this
score are fed by statements of American leaders, often belligerent
and uninformed, which raise the question of whether the United States
administration understands either its enemies or its friends;
(3) the trade competition between Britain and the United States and the
trade barriers to British imports raised by the United States.
It is difficult to say which of these is the most important factor in
forming British attitudes toward the United States. For a variety of
reasons McCarthyism was certainly the most important in the first five
years of this decade.
Not many Britons understand the emotional involvement of a large
proportion of Americans in the Far East and its problems. Nor was the
impact of the Korean War upon the United States fully appreciated in
the United Kingdom. Finally, the British, although they stoutly opposed
communism, were never so deeply concerned with communist infiltration
in government. Perhaps they should have been. The point here is that
for a number of reasons they were not.
Consequently, neither those who report and edit the news in Britain
(with a few exceptions) nor their readers were prepared for
McCarthyism. A good many otherwise well-informed people were shocked
when at the height of the McCarthy period Professor D.W. Brogan, one
of the most stimulating and knowledgeable British authorities on
America, pointed out that there had in fact been a considerable amount
of subversion in the United States government and that there was ample
proof of Soviet espionage.
The gradual reduction of the Senator's importance and power pleased
the British. This was not because he had been a good deal less than
friendly in his comments about them--they are not markedly sensitive to
foreign criticism. The reason was that many Britons saw in the methods
of Senator McCarthy and some of his associates a threat to the heritage
of individual liberty and equal justice under the law and, ultimately,
to the democratic government that is the common ground on which the
alliance is based.
The scars McCarthyism left on British popular opinion are deep. Months
after the Senator's star had faded, many people were only too ready
to believe that terror still reigned in the United States and to
discount the presence of a large body of moderate opinion that strongly
disapproved of extremism either of the left or of the right.
McCarthyism, of course, was a godsend to the British communists in
their efforts to turn the working class and the intellectuals against
the United States. They exploited his methods and his speeches to
frighten those who doubted the strength of American democracy. Their
propaganda was directed chiefly at the industrial workers, whose good
will the United States needs in Britain and, indeed, everywhere in
the world. This, said the Communists, is fascism. This, they said,
is what we warned you would happen in the United States. Look, they
said, here's an elderly general as President and McCarthy running the
country. Doesn't it remind you of Hindenburg and Hitler? they asked.
What freedom would you have, they inquired, in a country where McCarthy
considers socialists the same as communists? How long would your
trade-union organization last?
This may sound absurd to Americans, but it was dreadfully important,
and it can become dreadfully important again. Senator McCarthy did the
good name of the United States more harm in Britain than anyone else in
this century.
McCarthy did not have many friends in Britain. But it is symptomatic of
the importance attached to good relations between the two countries by
Britons that at the height of the anti-McCarthy uproar some Englishmen
attempted to point out that after all there were other forces in
the United States and that the wild pictures of fascism rampant in
Washington painted by left-wing journalists were, to put it mildly,
slightly exaggerated.
Such assurances made little headway. Many Britons, as I have said,
discerned in the Senator a threat to the basic liberties of the
American people and hence to the health of the alliance. Many more
were profoundly ignorant of the real situation in the United States
largely because they are profoundly ignorant of the American system
of government and how it works. There was, finally, the extreme
sensitivity of the British working class to anything that its members
consider to be capitalist reactionary action. In Britain the memories
of the fight against an organized and powerful reactionary group for
the rights of labor are vivid. As we have seen, they are nourished by
the speeches of Labor propagandists and politicians. There is also a
strong flavor of internationalism within the Labor movement. Given
these factors, it was easy enough for many thousands of working-class
people to believe that McCarthy represented the same forces they had
seen arise in Italy, Germany, and Spain to impoverish labor and smash
the power of the unions.
This group paid little attention to--if, indeed, it even heard--the
arguments of Americans and Britons that, while McCarthy was deplorable,
some measures had to be taken against Communist espionage in the
United States. Such arguments were drowned in the uproar raised by
the left wing in Britain over the plight of some poor devil of a
schoolteacher who had been a member of the Communist Party for a few
months fifteen years ago and who now was being put through the wringer
by Senator McCarthy and his fellow primitives. Finally, the British
public as a whole--and particularly the British working class--was not
so aroused emotionally by the cold war as Americans were, and there was
far less hatred and fear of the Soviet Union.
American critics of Britain have suggested that if the United Kingdom
had been as deeply involved militarily in Korea as the United States
was, this attitude toward the Communist bloc would have hardened. I
doubt it. The British are accustomed to casualties from wars in far-off
places. They do get angry and excited about casualties among their
troops from terrorism. The hanging of two British noncommissioned
officers by Jewish terrorists in Palestine during the troubles there
produced more public bitterness and animosity than did the grievous
casualties suffered by the Gloucestershire Regiment in its long,
valiant stand against the Chinese in Korea.
The attacks on British policies and British public figures by
Americans disturb those who are concerned with the future of the
alliance. I do not think that the effect of these upon the general
public is so great as is generally believed. Some newspapers feature
reports of these attacks and reply in editorials that are stately
or bad-tempered according to the character of the newspaper. The
attacks themselves, however, do not produce excessive anger among
ordinary people. To repeat, the British are not sensitive to foreign
criticism. One reason is that they retain a considerable measure of
confidence in the rightness, even the righteousness, of their own
position--a characteristic that has galled Americans and others for
years. (Incidentally, it is a characteristic they have passed on to
the Indians. Mr. Nehru in his high-minded inability to see any point
of view but his own is not unlike the late Neville Chamberlain.) A
second reason is that this generation of Britons has been insulted
by experts. Secretary of State Dulles, Senators McCarthy, Knowland,
and Dirksen can say some pretty harsh things. But, compared to what
the British have heard about themselves from the late Dr. Göbbels or
the various Vilification Editors of _Pravda_ or _Izvestia_, American
criticisms are as lemonade is to vodka.
Mr. Dulles's unpopularity among the British results not from his
taste for inept phrases but from the belief widely held among leading
politicians and senior civil servants that on two occasions--the
formation of the South East Asia Treaty Organization and the
negotiations with Britain after Egypt had seized control of the Suez
Canal--he told them one thing and did another. Such beliefs strongly
held by responsible people trickle downward.