THE NEW BALTIC REPUBLICS
Without laying stress upon the influence of the Entente promises to
free and defend small nations, none can understand the situation that
has arisen since the armistices in the territories of the former
Hapsburg, Romanoff, and Ottoman Empires. These were the alternatives
before the Paris peacemakers: treating all subject nationalities alike,
in a spirit of impartial justice, with the idea of establishing a
tolerable new world order; or blowing hot or cold upon the aspirations
and claims of subject nationalities, with the aim of advancing the
particular selfish interests of the strongest members of the conference.
The inability of President Wilson to resist the pressure brought
to bear upon him by his European colleagues made the latter choice
inevitable. Had it been possible for Great Britain, France, and Italy
to agree upon a common policy by mutual sacrifices and compromises
and a delimitation of spheres of influence, they could have played
favorites among the small nations and emancipated races, and played
them to win. The political organisms would have endured as Entente
statesmen created them, and the frontiers as Entente statesmen drew
them. But because those whose combined forces alone could have
established peace have followed divergent and conflicting policies
and do not play the same favorites, not a single new frontier line in
central and eastern Europe and in western Asia is as yet definitely
settled.
The first examples of independent action, in defiance of the treaties
and the agreement to act together, was the seizure of Fiume by the
Italian irregulars soon after the Treaty of St.-Germain was signed.
Gabriele d’Annunzio demonstrated how easy it was to resist both Supreme
Council and League. Then General Gouraud, officially responsible to
France, violated spirit and letter of Article XXII of the Covenant
by seizing Damascus. The unwillingness of members of the Council of
the League to abide by the Covenant led to other breaches of good
faith and disturbances of the precarious peace. For lawlessness
breeds lawlessness. How can the great powers expect smaller states
to respect principles of international equity which they themselves
ignore? Refusing to recognize the authority of the League and the
binding character of an armistice entered into by his own government,
the Polish General Zeligowski invaded Lithuania in October, 1920,
took possession of the capital, Vilna, and gave battle merrily to the
Lithuanians. Because he knew that he had Poland and France behind him,
Zeligowski had no fear of being called to account. The Poles did the
same thing in Upper Silesia a year and a half later. The Lithuanians in
January, 1923, made a _coup d’état_ in Memel, against which the Poles
cried loud and long.
The Zeligowski escapade accelerated the whirl of the international
whirlpool more than those of d’Annunzio and Gouraud. For this
refractory general mixed things up and discredited the League in the
most dangerous spot in Europe. Differences between Jugoslavs and
Italians, and between Arabs and French, did not threaten so seriously
the general peace as events in the border-land of Germany, Russia,
and Poland. The support Poland gave to Zeligowski--or, at least, her
failure to suppress him, as Italy finally did d’Annunzio--jeopardized
the existence of Poland. For among the border states of the Romanoff
and Hohenzollern Empires it is either live and let live or repartition.
Unless one believes that the German and Russian races have been
crushed into impotence, Occidental Europe will play a losing game
in establishing Poland as the lone sentinel, at the expense of her
neighbors, between Germany and Russia. In debating the permanent
success of France’s occupation of the Ruhr, Russia is the unknown
factor. And whether Russia will or can help Germany depends fully as
much upon the new Baltic republics as upon Poland.
Finland had a good start over her less fortunately situated sister
republics. During the war she was not a battle-ground, and when the
Petrograd revolution precipitated the collapse of the Russian Empire
the Finns were able to proclaim and maintain their independence. They
were off in a corner by themselves and not on the path to the place
where the Bolshevists wanted to go. No other state laid claim to any
portion of their territory other than the Aaland Islands. They were
able to harp back to the Treaty of Vienna, which had stipulated the
preservation of the integrity and autonomy of the Duchy of Finland,
and had sanctioned only a personal union with the Russian Empire. The
Czar was to be Duke of Finland. The Finns argued with reason that the
disappearance of the Czar annulled _ipso facto_ the union with the
Russian Empire. This paved the way to a speedy recognition of the
independence of Finland by the Entente Powers and neutrals, and the
admission of Finland to the League of Nations.
The successive revolutionary Governments in Russia made no objection
to the secession of Finland from the empire, but the compelling motive
of speedy Entente recognition was the fact that Germany recognized
Finland and had a powerful propaganda there. Before the revolution
the Entente Powers had been bitterly hostile to Polish and Finnish
aspirations, and this fact won Finnish sympathy for Germany. Unlike
Poland, Finland had no _terre irredente_ to claim from the Central
Empires, and she therefore saw in the victory of the Central Empires
her chance of breaking away from Russia. After the revolution, the
Entente Powers conveniently forgot the pro-Germanism of Finland. Being
able to recognize Finland without offending Russia, they promptly did
so, and began to intrigue to induce the Finns to attack the Bolshevists.
Prussian influence had been strong in the Baltic countries north of the
frontier of 1795 ever since the Middle Ages. Memel and Libau and Riga
were German-built cities. Almost to Petrograd a nobility of Germanic
origin constituted the land-owning class along the coast, and German
merchants abounded in the ports. The Baltic barons fell in readily with
the extension of Russian sovereignty to the Baltic Sea in Esthonia,
Latvia, and Lithuania, and became loyal servitors of the Russian
Government and co-oppressors of the subject races. As readily, when
the Russian armies were beaten in the World War, the Baltic barons
welcomed their invading kinsmen and worked for the King of Prussia. The
Russian revolution did not give the other Baltic races the opportunity
it gave the Finns. The Lithuanians were under German military
domination. The Latvians were in the field of military operations until
the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk was signed. The Esthonians soon had to cope
with the Bolshevist movement, of which Reval, their capital, became a
center.
At the end of 1917, Lithuania, like Poland, was offered independence
by the Austro-Germans in exchange for a political alliance, economic
advantages, and military coöperation against the Entente. Intrigue and
intimidation failed. The Lithuanians not only resisted with success
the pressure of their conquerors, who tried to disguise themselves
as liberators, but held a national council at Vilna on February 16,
1918, which proclaimed the independence of Lithuania, declared against
special favors either to the conqueror or to the former master, and
set up a provisional Government. Kaiser Wilhelm first, and the King of
Saxony later, tried to beguile the Lithuanians into forming an alliance
with Germany. Is it conceivable that the Lithuanian leaders, who defied
Germany in her hour of triumph and when their country was held by a
German army, have been in connivance with defeated Germany?
Real liberation and the hope of statehood came to the Baltic Sea
republics only after the defeat of Germany. At Vilna for Lithuania and
at Riga for Latvia independence was formally proclaimed and governments
set up before the Germans withdrew. The Esthonians at Reval were
already under a regularly constituted independent government. There was
no more reason to doubt the genuineness, permanence, and legitimacy of
these national movements than in any other part of Europe. The Baltic
Sea republics, ethnographically and historically, had as much right to
expect from the victory of the Entente the revival of their nationhood
as Poland and Bohemia.
Before the conference met at Paris, the powers of the victorious
alliance entered into diplomatic relations with the Baltic Sea
republics. They received accredited military missions, and their
Governments had no intimation that they would be treated differently
from Poland. In fact, they were assured that formal recognition of
their independence and seats at the Peace Conference were withheld
only because it was necessary not to discourage or discredit the
anti-Bolshevist generals to whom the Entente was giving military aid
to crush Lenin.[9] As they felt that their existence depended upon
the overthrow of the Moscow Soviet, or at least upon keeping Soviet
propaganda away from their own countries, the Baltic Sea republics
were content with informal pledges. They realized the delicacy of the
situation and kept themselves in the background at Paris. On the other
hand, their coöperation alone made practicable the military plans of
the Entente against the Bolshevists. They allowed their territory
to be used as a base of operations against Petrograd and Moscow;
they received military supplies from the Entente Powers; and they
were guided by the advice of the military missions in the projected
campaigns against Petrograd and Moscow.
The Baltic Sea republics needed food and supplies and money. Ravaged
and plundered during five years by Russians and Germans alike, they
were beggars who could not choose their friends. Loyalty and decency
did not seem to abide in Entente diplomacy any more than in that of
the Germans. But the Baltic states could not break with us. As long
as there was hope of killing Sovietism, they were ready to work with
us. The complete disasters that attended the anti-Bolshevist movements
opened the eyes of the Baltic Sea republics. Yudenitch, the Archangel
republic, Kolchak, and Denikin had been induced by Entente military
missions to attack Lenin. But each in succession had been left in the
lurch to shift for himself when the fortunes of war changed. We were
merely rooters on the sidelines. The withdrawal from Archangel was the
strongest possible argument against an invasion of Russia. The plan of
using the Baltic states for pulling Entente chestnuts out of the fire
had to be abandoned. The military missions limited their political
efforts to preventing the Baltic republics from signing peace.
The Kolchak debacle and the abandonment of the Archangel front by the
Entente armies compelled Esthonia to treat with the Bolshevists. A
glance at the map will convince any fair-minded man that the Esthonians
had no other choice. It was peace or extinction. The Entente missions
strenuously objected to the negotiations, but they failed to advance
the only argument that would have counted, a definite pledge of
military aid to the amount of two hundred thousand Entente troops to
be kept in the country as long as the Esthonian Government had reason
to fear a Bolshevist invasion.
The Peace of Dorpat, signed on January 21, 1920, was not evidence of
Esthonian perfidy or pro-Bolshevist leanings. It was evidence of the
complete military impotence of the Entente and the United States and
of the failure of our blockade to destroy Sovietism in Russia. If the
Esthonians, face to face with the Red armies, had refused to make peace
with Lenin, relying on the “moral support” of the League of Nations,
what does our common sense tell us would have happened to Esthonia?
Esthonia was bitterly reproached for having signed the Peace of Dorpat
by the very journals and men who, seven months later, gave Poland, in a
similar plight, urgent counsels to do what they had denounced Esthonia
for doing.
There is no word of condemnation for Poland because she signed the
Peace of Riga in October, 1920. In fact, she was officially advised
to make peace with Lenin. But abandoning the fight and establishing
official relations with Moscow were used against the Baltic Sea
republics as reasons for considering them pro-Bolshevist and for
withholding recognition of their independence. Latvia and Lithuania
had to follow the lead of Esthonia and Finland, and anticipated
the Russo-Polish treaty by a few months. The treaties have now been
published. They contain no provisions more advantageous to the
Bolshevists than those of the Russo-Polish Treaty of Riga.
The British worked as strenuously as their allies to prevent Lenin from
getting the Esthonians to make peace; but, once the treaty was signed,
they accepted the situation and sought to make the best of it. Not
being under the spell of the quixotism that seems to inspire our State
Department in its foreign policy, and having no valid reason, as the
French had, to maintain the integrity of Russia and refuse to deal with
Bolshevism until money owed by the old régime was paid or acknowledged
as a legitimate obligation, the British recognized the independence of
the Baltic Sea republics and entered into diplomatic relations with
them.
Italy, impatient for some solution, no matter what, of the Russian
imbroglio, followed Great Britain’s lead. France did not dare to
stand out against _de facto_ recognition. To abstain from diplomatic
intercourse with the Baltic Sea republics would have been to renounce
the economic exploitation of these countries in favor of the British.
So the Baltic representatives were received at the Quai d’Orsay, and
French diplomats were then able to work at Libau and Riga and Reval to
prevent a British trade and banking monopoly in Lithuania, Latvia, and
Esthonia, and to throw a monkey-wrench into the works of the British
naval machine which aimed at the supremacy of the Baltic Sea.
All this did not come about in a minute. The changed attitude toward
the new political _status quo_ in the eastern Baltic and toward the
question of trading with Russia is due to the remorseless working
of economic laws which prove in the long run more powerful than the
_combinazione_ of statesmen. Politics naturally yields to economics,
for trade is the _raison d’être_ of the foreign policy of nations.
Prejudices die hard. The influences working against the stability of
the Baltic Sea republics at London and Paris are still strong. French
opposition among anti-Bolshevists, Russian bondholders, and _amis de
la Pologne_ is still active. A reactionary group in Great Britain
is ready to sacrifice the Lithuanians, Latvians, and Esthonians to
whatever Russian Government may be able to stamp out Bolshevism and
displace Lenin and his associates. The Russians who pulled the strings
for the Entente in the various anti-Bolshevist fiascos still watch the
development of the Baltic situation and refuse to admit any diminution
of “integral Russia.” Polish propaganda ridicules the right of the
Baltic races to separate existence.
Under these conditions, the observer of European international politics
who believes in a square deal for everybody deplored the Colby note
of August 10, 1920. None questioned the good faith of Mr. Colby and
his associates in their anxiety to convince the Russian people of our
detachment and good will and to try to reconcile implacable opposition
to Bolshevism with affection for Russia. The State Department
undoubtedly meant well and thought it was making a masterly move; but
one does not need to go further than the “Encyclopædia Britannica”
to convince oneself, by glancing over the admirable summaries of
historical facts from the best sources, of Mr. Colby’s unfairness and
inconsistency in announcing in the same document that the policy of
the United States was to preserve at all costs “Russian integrity” and
at the same time to maintain Poland’s territorial integrity by “the
employment of all available means.”
After studying the formation of the two political organisms of 1914,
Austria-Hungary and Russia, Mr. Wilson’s note of September 7, 1918,
to the Austro-Hungarian Government and our subsequent American policy
appear a curious--and typically Anglo-Saxon--mixture of idealism and
expediency. Did not the Romanoffs as much as the Hapsburgs build their
empires upon the ruins of small races of alien blood and institutions
and religion? If the moral sense of the world demands the liberation
and restoration to nationhood of races in slavery to Austrians and
Hungarians, how could Mr. Colby declare that the policy of our
Government stands for the return to slavery of nations whose life was
extinguished by the Russians? We asked the blessing of God upon our
arms to assure us the victory because we were fighting for humanity. In
our prayers we put no limit on our philanthropy.
On July 4, 1918, when President Wilson received the representatives of
subject races at Mount Vernon, he made a solemn pledge in the name of
the American people to _all_ subject races. A Lithuanian stood with
the others before Washington’s tomb. Neither in that speech nor in any
other did Wilson say, “You understand, of course, that the victorious
Allies mean to free and restore only the subject races whose freedom
and restoration will be at the expense of our enemies and to their
confusion.” Had he said this, it would have been a manly confession--to
avoid false hopes and false pretenses--of what was afterward evident
at the Peace Conference, that the yearning for humanity was a sham and
the proclamation of the doctrine of self-determination a falsehood.
The moral issue was simply buncombe to make people feel good and to
arouse them against the Germans. Because races were conquered by the
Romanoffs, have they less right to freedom than if they were conquered
by the Hapsburgs and Hohenzollerns?
When we read carefully the Colby note, which was meant to justify
the refusal of the State Department to follow the example of our
associates in recognizing and dealing with and helping the Baltic Sea
republics, we challenge its logic as well as its misrepresentation of
the American idealism expressed by President Wilson during the war.
Poland and Finland were portions of “integral Russia”; so was Russian
Armenia; so was Bessarabia. Without consulting Russia, we recognized
the independence of Poland, Finland, and Armenia, and agreed to the
inclusion of Bessarabia in Rumania.
The State Department expert will respond that Poland and Finland had
a special status under the Treaty of Vienna. Why go back in regard
to Russia only to the Treaty of Vienna? In making the Treaties of
Versailles and St.-Germain we canceled the Treaty of Vienna. We ignored
this treaty and all other treaties in dealing with subject races of
Austria-Hungary and Germany. The attempt to justify partiality of
treatment between Poland and the Baltic Sea republics on the ground of
the Treaty of Vienna fails even if we did accept the Treaty of Vienna
as the law and the prophets. The Grand Duchy of Lithuania enjoyed
an individual status in the Russian Empire by virtue of arrangements
made before the Napoleonic period and not infringed upon until 1830.
The charter of Lithuania was not finally abrogated until 1848, and
the title of Grand Duke of Lithuania was assumed by the Russian Czar
on a parity with that of King of Poland and Grand Duke of Finland at
coronations. This acknowledgment of the separate identity of Lithuania
in the empire was never given up. The late Nicholas was crowned Grand
Duke of Lithuania.
From a historical point of view the American State Department had no
ground to stand upon in regarding Lithuania as a Russian province
and at the same time holding that Poland is an independent kingdom.
The relations of the two countries toward the Russian Empire are
strikingly alike. Both lost their independence through the partitions
of the eighteenth century, after having been for centuries great and
flourishing empires. Both suffered horribly from czardom during the
nineteenth century. Both were battle-grounds during the late war.
Commander Gade, an American reserve naval officer who represented us in
the Baltic provinces, justified the non-recognition policy on practical
economic grounds. He maintained that these countries could not exist
independently, and ought not be to encouraged in their aspirations
for nationhood, because Russia needs them as an economic outlet to
the sea, while much of their prosperity must come from transit trade.
Commander Gade advanced this point of view earnestly and plausibly. It
appealed to American common sense, which believed that in union there
is strength.
But we forget the Treaties of Versailles and St.-Germain. One
may have his own opinion about the advisability of the policy of
_émiettement_ (breaking in pieces) of political organisms that
represented the economic evolution of past centuries. We are
committed, however, to just that policy. It is too late to question
it. I have never been an unreasoning and sentimental pleader for the
doctrine of self-determination, but I have maintained, as a student
of nationalist movements, that the effort to limit the application
of self-determination to races whose liberation helps the fancied
interests of a few great powers is disastrous and makes impossible the
establishment of peace.
Political expediency is never more than a temporary makeshift. Old
problems are solved only by creating new ones. It stands to reason
that we cannot in one breath lop off frontier provinces from Germany
on the ground of the alien character of their inhabitants and destroy
the Hapsburg Empire on the ground of the right of its various elements
to an independent existence, and in the next breath tell other, _and
neighboring_, subject races that they have no future outside of the
Romanoff Empire. Lithuania has a better economic _raison d’être_ than
Poland and Czechoslovakia. Lithuania and the other Baltic Sea republics
have precedents that refute the argumentation of Gade and our State
Department, not only in regard to their right and ability to exist
independently of Russia, but also independently of one another.
If the reader will take the map of Europe, look at the location of the
German Empire, follow its river-courses in relation to Belgium and
Holland, and then compare the similar situation of Russia in relation
to Lithuania, Latvia, and Esthonia, he will readily see how the Gade
position, which our State Department foolishly adopted, resembled the
position of German economists toward Belgium. The fact of standing
between a great empire and the sea is no reason to deny the right of
a people to nationhood. The Dutch and a part of the Belgians are very
much closer to the Germans racially than the Lithuanians and Latvians
are to the Russians and Poles. Had we not definitely scotched the
access-to-the-sea argument for a big fellow’s crushing the life out
of a little fellow? It is disconcerting to see it crop up in our own
country in official circles. The other two parts of the Gade economic
argument are also refuted by Belgium and Holland. These countries have
existed economically, flourished, and been able to defend themselves
against Germany, England, and France. And they have existed now for
nearly a hundred years as separate entities. Why should not Baltic Sea
states get along as North Sea states? The Baltic Sea already has little
states less extensive in territory and some of them less populous than
the new Baltic Sea republics.
But Lithuania, Latvia, and Esthonia, by asking for the recognition
of their independence, did not close the door upon the possibility
of a Russian federation among themselves. In this time of upset and
confusion they asked simply for a free hand to look out for their own
interests. As Russian provinces, with no separate international status,
they could resist neither Bolshevists nor Russian reactionaries. They
would be in the plight of the rest of Russia now, and to-morrow, when
the reaction comes, they would have to submit to a return to the old
intolerable conditions, with alien landowners and alien office-holders
grinding the life out of them.
The Baltic Sea republics may develop into vigorous independent States,
or they may return to membership in the political organism of a new and
regenerated Russia; but in the meantime they have to live, and when the
moment for the reconstitution of integral Russia comes these subject
races will know by experience whether independence is possible or
preferable from an economic point of view, and will be able to lay down
political and social stipulations if they feel that it is wisest to go
back to Russia.
We have discussed at length the attitude of the United States toward
the plea of the Baltic Sea republics for recognition to illustrate the
difficulties our country encounters in taking sides in questions that
concern Europe. The European powers back or oppose the aspirations of
small states and peoples in accordance with their own well defined
national interests. The United States has no such interests. The
policies we adopt upon misapprehension or misinformation, as in the
case of the Baltic Sea republics, do us no good, and do others much
harm. In the end they do us harm. Having no vital interests to guide
us, we should abstain from European questions or let ourselves be
controlled by definite principles which we apply alike in all cases.[10]
Since 1921 the progress of the Baltic Sea republics has been
gratifying. They have proved their ability to live alone. Lithuania
alone has been in hot water because she has been unable to get a
square deal in her dispute with Poland over Vilna. The attitude of
the League of Nations toward Lithuania has been disheartening, and
has proved that the Council of the League is not an impartial body,
dispensing justice among nations for the common good of all, but a
group of statesmen furthering special interests. The dispute between
Lithuania, the victim, and Poland, the aggressor, has not been handled
on its merits, but has been used as one of a number of pawns in the
game of compromise between France and Great Britain.
The facts of the case are these: When the League of Nations took over
the adjudication of the frontier between Poland and Lithuania, both
countries agreed to an armistice, and the line between the opposing
armies was drawn by the League of Nations. Within a month after this
agreement was signed, the Poles violated the armistice, made a surprise
attack, and in a few days not only occupied the disputed frontier
territory but went a long distance beyond and seized Vilna, the capital
of Lithuania.
The methodical preparation for this move had long been observed by the
Lithuanians, but when Mr. Veldemar pointed out to the Council of the
League that Poland was preparing to anticipate by violence the award,
he was assured that this would not be allowed. After the _coup_, the
Lithuanian Government received no satisfaction from the Council. The
Polish Government denied responsibility for Zeligowski and asserted
that his army was composed of men from the disputed territory. The
League of Nations finally agreed to settle the matter by means of a
plebiscite, but included in the plebiscite the district of Vilna. To
guarantee a fair vote, the plebiscite area was to be occupied by an
international body of troops.
Russia intervened in the question. This was to be expected. Russia’s
rights and interests in the relations between Poland and Lithuania are
far more important than those of any state in the League of Nations.
We might say, in fact, that it was folly on the part of the League
of Nations to believe that territorial matters of this sort could
be settled without consulting Russia. Russia has treaties of peace
with both Poland and Lithuania. Her Government has been virtually at
war with the Governments controlling the League of Nations. These
Governments did all in their power for several years to destroy the
present Russian Government. Russia, therefore, declared that the League
of Nations had no business to interfere in matters that concern Russia
and her neighbors, with whom she is at peace. The terms of the treaties
between Russia and Poland and Lithuania have nothing to do with the
League of Nations, and their interpretation and execution is a matter
of direct negotiation between Russia and her neighbors.
Consequently Russia served notice on Poland that the presence of the
Zeligowski troops in Lithuania, beyond the lines agreed upon in a
Treaty of Riga, was a violation of that treaty, and that Poland must
withdraw her troops. At the same time the Russian Government warned
Lithuania that the presence of troops of the League of Nations would
not be tolerated. Russia pointed out that the experiences of the last
few years had given her reason to believe that the presence of foreign
troops at Vilna could not but be a menace to her security.
The Entente Powers and the United States were afraid to let the League
of Nations take a step full of embarrassment for them. If Lithuania is
a province of Russia, the _de facto_ Russian Government is justified in
intervening to prevent Poland, with or without the help of the League
of Nations, from alienating territory from the Russian Empire. Such
action would be in accordance with the Colby note of August 10, 1920;
for in this case Lenin would be acting not as a Bolshevist but as a
patriotic Russian, to defeat a scheme of Poland, with foreign aid,
to grab more Russian territory. On the other hand, if Lithuania were
independent, why should she not receive full recognition of the new
status? The Soviet was equally unwilling to have the question come to
a show-down, because of its determination not to become involved in a
new war.
So Poland and Lithuania agreed to negotiate directly, with M. Hymans of
Belgium as mediator. When the representatives of the two countries met
at Brussels, M. Hymans, supposedly acting for the League of Nations but
in reality following a course dictated by the desire to help Belgium
and France reach an understanding in regard to the German reparations
question, proposed that Lithuania be divided into two cantons, and the
whole country put under a joint council for foreign affairs including
Lithuanian and Polish members. In addition, Lithuania was to pool her
army with that of Poland. It was really a proposal for the extinction
of Lithuanian independence and was refused in May, 1921. For two years
the League of Nations has tried to impose upon Lithuania a boundary
which accepts as a _fait accompli_ the violation of the armistice and
the seizure of Vilna by Zeligowski.
After the French and Belgians invaded the Ruhr in January, 1923,
the Lithuanians decided that the time had come to settle the Memel
question. The Port of Memel, with a strip of territory along the Niemen
River, was detached from Germany by the Treaty of Versailles, with
the intention of making it a port for Lithuania as Danzig was made a
port for Poland. The territory was ceded to the Allied and Associated
Powers, and was taken over by the French. The award to Lithuania
was not made, and it was suspected by the Lithuanians that France
intended to manœuver, after the failure of the Hymans proposition,
to give Memel to Poland. In this way East Prussia would be cut off
from Russia. Taking a leaf from Zeligowski’s book in January, 1923,
Lithuanian “irregulars” occupied Memel, disarmed the French garrison,
and proclaimed the union of Memel with Lithuania. Confronted with a
deadly parallel, the Entente Powers did not have the face to tell the
Lithuanians that they could not act toward Memel as the Poles had acted
toward Vilna. A month after the Lithuanians had seized Memel, they were
confirmed in their possession of it by the Council of Ambassadors at
Paris.
This is only one of many illustrations of the importance of having
force at your disposal if you hope to survive in post-bellum Europe.
Since the Treaty of Versailles, from the Baltic to the Bosphorus, all
decisions, all changes, have been made by and in favor of the people
possessing arms and using them.
Despite the political confusion of the last six years, the new Baltic
Republics have succeeded remarkably well in establishing their claim
to recognition as independent states on a permanent footing. What
may happen when Germany and Russia again become powerful none can
predict. It is hardly possible, however, that any of these states
will return to Russia unless German policy demands this solution of
the Baltic question, which is most unlikely. Because of their higher
level of civilization and their literacy, the Baltic peoples survived
Russianization in the old Romanoff Empire. Since the World War Finland
has been able to make arrangements to refund her debt to the United
States, and the three other countries have all been able to balance
their budgets. Financially and in healthy trade prospects the Baltic
Republics are better off than any of the new states that have come into
being as a result of the World War, with the possible exception of
Czechoslovakia.