NEUTRALITY
Despite the wars and rumors of wars in Europe after 1910, few Americans
perceived the gathering of the clouds, and probably not one in ten
thousand felt more than an ordinary thrill of interest on the morning of
June 29, 1914, when they read that the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of
Austria had been assassinated. Nor, a month later, when it became obvious
that the resulting crisis was to precipitate another war in the Balkans,
did most Americans realize that the world was hovering on the brink of
momentous events. Not even when the most dire forebodings were realized
and the great powers of Europe were drawn into the quarrel, could America
appreciate its significance. Crowds gazed upon the bulletin boards and
tried to picture the steady advance of German field-gray through the
streets of Liège, asked their neighbors what were these French 75's, and
endeavored to locate Mons and Verdun on inadequate maps. Interest could
not be more intense, but it was the interest of the moving-picture
devotee. Even the romantic voyage of the _Kronprinzessin Cecilie_ with
her cargo of gold, seeking to elude the roving British cruisers, seemed
merely theatrical. It was a tremendous show and we were the spectators.
Only the closing of the Stock Exchange lent an air of reality to the
crisis.
It was true that the Spanish War had made of the United States a world
power, but so firmly rooted in American minds was the principle of
complete political isolation from European affairs that the typical
citizen could not imagine any cataclysm on the other side of the Atlantic
so engrossing as to engage the active participation of his country. The
whole course of American history had deepened the general feeling of
aloofness from Europe and heightened the effect of the advice given by
the first President when he warned the country to avoid entangling
alliances. In the early nineteenth century the United States was a
country apart, for in the days when there was neither steamship nor
telegraph the Atlantic in truth separated the New World from the Old.
After the close of the "second war of independence," in 1815, the
possibility of foreign complications seemed remote. The attention of the
young nation was directed to domestic concerns, to the building up of
manufactures, to the extension of the frontiers westward. The American
nation turned its back to the Atlantic. There was a steady and welcome
stream of immigrants from Europe, but there was little speculation or
interest as to its headwaters.
Governmental relations with European states were disturbed at times by
crises of greater or less importance. The proximity of the United States
to and interest in Cuba compelled the Government to recognize the
political existence of Spain; a French army was ordered out of Mexico
when it was felt to be a menace; the presence of immigrant Irish in large
numbers always gave a note of uncertainty to the national attitude
towards Great Britain. The export of cotton from the Southern States
created industrial relations of such importance with Great Britain that,
during the Civil War, after the establishment of the blockade on the
Confederate coast, wisdom and forbearance were needed on both sides to
prevent the breaking out of armed conflict. But during the last third of
the century, which was marked in this country by an extraordinary
industrial evolution and an increased interest in domestic
administrative issues, the attitude of the United States towards Europe,
except during the brief Venezuelan crisis and the war with Spain, was
generally characterized by the indifference which is the natural outcome
of geographical separation.
In diplomatic language American foreign policy, so far as Europe was
concerned, was based upon the principle of "non-intervention." The right
to manage their affairs in their own way without interference was conceded
to European Governments and a reciprocal attitude was expected of them.
The American Government followed strictly the purpose of not participating
in any political arrangements made between European states regarding
European issues. Early in the life of the nation Jefferson had correlated
the double aspect of this policy: "Our first and fundamental maxim," he
said, "should be never to entangle ourselves in the broils of Europe; our
second, never to suffer Europe to intermeddle with cis-Atlantic affairs."
The influence of John Quincy Adams crystallized this double policy in the
Monroe Doctrine, which, as compensation for denying to European states the
right to intervene in American politics, sacrificed the generous
sympathies of many Americans, among them President Monroe himself, with
the republican movements across the Atlantic. With the continued and
increasing importance of the Monroe Doctrine as a principle of national
policy, the natural and reciprocal aspect of that doctrine, implying
political isolation from Europe, became more deeply imbedded in the
national consciousness.
There was, it is true, another aspect to American foreign policy besides
the European, namely, that concerning the Pacific and the Far East, which,
as diplomatic historians have pointed out, does not seem to have been
affected by the tradition of isolation. Since the day when the western
frontier was pushed to the Golden Gate, the United States has taken an
active interest in problems of the Pacific. Alaska was purchased from
Russia. An American seaman was the first to open the trade of Japan to the
outside world and thus precipitated the great revolution which has touched
every aspect of Far Eastern questions. American traders watched carefully
the commercial development of Oriental ports, in which Americans have
played an active rôle. In China and in the maintenance of the open door
especially, has America taken the keenest interest. It is a matter of
pride that American policy, always of a purely commercial and peaceful
nature, showed itself less aggressive than that of some European states.
But the Government insisted upon the recognition of American interest in
every Far Eastern issue that might be raised, and was ready to intervene
with those of Europe in moments of crisis or danger.
A fairly clear-cut distinction might thus be made between American
pretensions in the different parts of the world. In the Americas the
nation claimed that sort of preëminence which was implied by the Monroe
Doctrine, a preëminence which as regards the Latin-American states north
of the Orinoco many felt must be actively enforced, in view of special
interests in the Caribbean. In the Far East the United States claimed an
equality of status with the European powers. In the rest of the world,
Europe, Africa, the Levant, the traditional American policy of abstention
held good absolutely, at least until the close of the century.
The war with Spain affected American foreign policy vitally. The holding
of the Philippines, even if it were to prove merely temporary, created new
relations with all the great powers, of Europe as of Asia; American
Caribbean interests were strengthened; and the victory over a European
power, even one of a second class in material strength, necessarily
altered the traditional attitude of the nation towards the other states of
Europe and theirs towards it. This change was stimulated by the close
attention which American merchants and bankers began to give to European
combinations and policies, particularly to the exploitation of thinly
populated districts by European states. Even before the Spanish War a
keen-sighted student of foreign affairs, Richard Olney, had declared that
the American people could not assume an attitude of indifference towards
European politics and that the hegemony of a single continental state
would be disastrous to their prosperity if not to their safety. Conversely
Europeans began to watch America with greater care. The victory over Spain
was resented and the fear of American commercial development began to
spread. The Kaiser had even talked of a continental customs union to meet
American competition. On the other hand, Great Britain, which had
displayed a benevolent attitude during the Spanish War and whose admiral
at Manila had perhaps blocked German interference, showed an increasing
desire for a close understanding. The friendship of the United States,
itself once a British dependency, for the British colonies was natural
and American interests in the Far East had much in common with those of
Great Britain.
External evidence of the new place of the United States in the world might
be found in the position taken by Roosevelt as peacemaker between Russia
and Japan, and, more significantly, in the rôle played by the American
representative, Henry White, at the Conference of Algeciras in 1906. Not
merely did the American Government consent to discuss matters essentially
European in character, but its attitude proved almost decisive in the
settlement then drafted. It is true that the Senate, in approving that
settlement, refused to assume responsibility for its maintenance and
reiterated its adherence to traditional policy. But those who watched
developments with intelligent eyes must have agreed with Roosevelt when he
said: "We have no choice, we people of the United States, as to whether we
shall play a great part in the affairs of the world. That has been decided
for us by fate, by the march of events." Yet it may be questioned whether
the average American, during the first decade of the twentieth century,
realized the change that had come over relations with Europe. The majority
of citizens certainly felt that anything happening east of the Atlantic
was none of their business, just as everything that occurred in the
Americas was entirely outside the scope of European interference.
There is little to show that Woodrow Wilson, at the time when he entered
upon his duties as President, was one of the few Americans who fully
appreciated the new international position of the United States and its
consequences, even had there been no war. The Democratic platform of 1912
hardly mentioned foreign policy, and Wilson's Inaugural contained no
reference to anything except domestic matters. Certain problems inherited
from the previous Administration forced upon the President, however, the
formulation, if not of a policy, at least of an attitude. The questions of
the Panama Canal tolls and Japanese immigration, the Mexican situation,
the Philippines, general relations with Latin-America, all demanded
attention. In each case Wilson displayed a willingness to sacrifice, a
desire to avoid stressing the material strength of the United States, an
anxiety to compromise, which matched in spirit the finest traditions of
American foreign policy, which has generally been marked by high ideals.
Many of his countrymen, possibly without adequate study or command of the
facts, supposed that Wilson was inspired less by positive ideals than by
the belief that no problem of a foreign nature was worth a quarrel. People
liked the principle contained in the sentence: "We can afford to exercise
the self-restraint of a really great nation which realizes its own
strength and scorns to misuse it." But they also wondered whether the
passivity of the Government did not in part proceed from the fact that the
President could not make up his mind what he wanted to do. They looked
upon his handling of the Mexican situation as clear evidence of a lack of
policy. Nevertheless the country as a whole, without expressing enthusiasm
for Wilson's attitude, was obviously pleased by his attempts to avoid
foreign entanglements, and in the early summer of 1914 the eyes of the
nation were focused upon domestic issues.
Then came the war in Europe.
* * * * *
Today, after the long years of stress and struggle in which the crimes of
Germany have received full advertisement, few Americans will admit that
they did not perceive during that first week of August, 1914, the
complete significance of the moral issues involved in the European war.
They read back into their thoughts of those early days the realization
which, in truth, came only later, that Germany was the brutal aggressor
attacking those aspects of modern civilization which are dear to America.
In fact there were not many then who grasped the essential truth that the
cause defended by Great Britain and France was indeed that of America and
that their defeat would bring the United States face to face with vital
danger, both material and moral.
Partisanship, of course, was not lacking and frequently it was of an
earnest kind; in view of the large number of European-born who enjoyed
citizenship, sympathy with one side or the other was inevitably warm.
West of the Mississippi it was some time before the masses were stirred
from their indifference to and their ignorance of the struggle. But on
the Atlantic seaboard and in the Middle West opinion became sharply
divided. The middle-class German-Americans naturally espoused with some
vehemence the justice of the Fatherland's cause. German intellectuals of
influence, such as Hugo Münsterberg, inveighed against the hypocrisy and
the decadence of the Entente powers. Many Americans who had lived or had
been educated in Germany, some professors who had been brought into
contact with the Kaiser explained the "essentially defensive character"
of Germany's struggle against the threatening Slav. Certain of the
politically active Irish elements, anxious to discredit the British, also
lent their support to the German cause.
On the Atlantic coast, however, the general trend of opinion ran strongly
in favor of the Entente. The brave defense of the Belgians at Liège
against terrible odds evoked warm sympathy; the stories of the atrocities
committed by the invading Germans, constantly more frequent and more
brutal in character, enhanced that feeling. The valorous retreat of the
French and their last-ditch stand on the Marne compelled admiration.
Moreover, the school histories of the United States with their emphasis
upon La Fayette and the aid given by the French in the first fight for
liberty proved to be of no small importance in the molding of sympathy.
Business men naturally favored Great Britain, both because of financial
relationships and because of their dislike and fear of German commercial
methods.
But in all this partisanship there was little appreciation of the peril
that might result from German victory and no articulate demand that the
United States intervene. Warm sympathy might be given to one side or the
other, but the almost universal opinion was that the war was none of our
business. Even Theodore Roosevelt, who later was to be one of the most
determined advocates of American intervention on the side of the Entente,
writing for _The Outlook_ in September, 1914, congratulated the country
on its separation from European quarrels, which made possible the
preservation of our peace.
Whatever the trend of public opinion, President Wilson would have
insisted upon neutrality. Everything in his character and policy demanded
the maintenance of peace. He had entered office with a broad programme of
social reform in view, and the attainment of his ideals depended upon
domestic tranquillity. He was, furthermore, a real pacifist, believing
that war is debasing morally and disastrous economically. Finally, he was
convinced that the United States was consecrated to a special task,
namely, the inspiration of politics by moral factors; if the nation was
to accomplish this task its example must be a higher example than one of
force. Unquestionably he looked forward to acting as mediator in the
struggle and thus securing for the country and himself new prestige such
as had come in Roosevelt's mediation between Russia and Japan. But the
main thought in his mind was, first, the preservation of peace for the
sake of peace; and next, to attain the supreme glory of showing the world
that greatness and peaceableness are complementary in national character
and not antithetic. "We are champions of peace and of concord," he said,
"and we should be very jealous of this distinction which we have sought
to earn."
Wilson's determination was strengthened by his obvious failure to
distinguish between the war aims of the two sides. He did not at first see
the moral issue involved. He was anxious to "reserve judgment until the
end of the war, when all its events and circumstances can be seen in their
entirety and in their true relations." When appeals and protests were sent
to him from Germany, Belgium, and France dealing with infractions of the
law and practice of nations, he was willing to return a response to
Germany, which had confessedly committed an international wrong, identical
with that sent to Belgium which had suffered from that wrong. Wilson has
himself confessed that "America did not at first see the full meaning of
the war. It looked like a natural raking out of the pent-up jealousies and
rivalries of the complicated politics of Europe.... We, at the distance
of America, looked on at first without a full comprehension of what the
plot was getting into."[2] That the aims of the belligerent powers might
affect the conscience or the fortunes of America he did not perceive. He
urged us not to be "thrown off our balance by a war with which we have
nothing to do, whose causes cannot touch us, whose very existence affords
us opportunities of friendship and disinterested service which should make
us ashamed of any thought of hostility or fearful preparation for
trouble." Hence his proclamation of neutrality, which was universally
accepted as right. Hence, also, his adjuration to be "impartial in thought
as well as in action," which was not so universally accepted and marks,
perhaps, a definite rift between Wilson and the bulk of educated opinion
in the Northeast.
[Footnote 2: Speech on the _George Washington_, July 4, 1919.]
During the early days of August Wilson had proclaimed his desire to act
as mediator between the warring forces, although he must have realized
that the suggestion would prove fruitless at that moment. Again, after
the battle of the Marne, he took advantage of German discouragement,
apparently receiving a hint from Johann von Bernstorff, German
Ambassador in Washington, to sound the belligerents on the possibility of
an arrangement. Failing a second time to elicit serious consideration of
peace, he withdrew to wait for a better opportunity. Thus the Germans,
beaten back from Paris, vainly pounded the allied lines on the Yser; the
Russians, after forcing their path through Galicia, defended Warsaw with
desperation; while Wilson kept himself and his country strictly aloof
from the conflict.
But no mere desires or declarations could prevent the war from touching
America, and each day made more apparent the difficulties and the dangers
of neutrality. The Atlantic no longer separated the two worlds. In
September and October the British Government, taking advantage of the
naval supremacy assured by their fleet, issued Orders in Council designed
to provide for close control of neutral commerce and to prevent the
importation of contraband into Germany. British supervision of war-time
trade has always been strict and its interpretation of the meaning of
contraband broad; the present instance was no exception. American ships
and cargoes were seized and confiscated to an extent which, while it
doubtless seemed justified to the British, who were fighting for their
lives, evoked a chorus of bitter complaints from American producers and
exporters. Commerce with neutral countries of Europe threatened to become
completely interrupted. On the 21st of October and again on the 26th of
December, the State Department sent notes of protest to the British
Government. The tone of the discussion was notably sharpened by the
seizure of the _Wilhelmina_, supposedly an American ship, though, as
later developed, she had been chartered by a German agent in New York,
Dr. Heinrich F. Albert, in order to bring the Anglo-American dispute to a
head.
How far the interference with our trade by the British might have
embittered relations, if other issues had not seemed more pressing, no one
can say. Precisely at the moment when business men were beginning to call
upon Wilson for a sturdier defense of American commercial rights, a
controversy with Germany eclipsed, at least from the eye of the general
public, all other foreign questions. From the moment when the defeat on
the Marne showed the Germans that victory was not likely to come quickly
to their arms, the Berlin Government realized the importance of preventing
the export of American munitions. Since the allies held control of the
seas an embargo on such export would be entirely to German advantage, and
the head of German propaganda in this country, a former Colonial
Secretary, Dr. Bernhard Dernburg, attempted to mobilize German-American
sentiment and to bring pressure upon Congressmen through their
constituents in favor of such an embargo. It was easy to allege that the
export of arms, since they went to the allied camp alone, was on its face,
unneutral. Several Senators approved the embargo, among them the chairman
of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, William J. Stone of Missouri.
Against the proposed embargo Wilson set his face steadfastly. He perceived
the fallacy of the German argument and insisted that to prevent the export
of arms would be itself unneutral. The inability of the Central Powers to
import arms from the United States resulted from their inferiority on the
high seas; the Government would be departing from its position of
impartiality if it failed to keep American markets open to every nation of
the world, belligerent or neutral. The United States could not change the
rules in the middle of the game for the advantage of one side. The perfect
legality of Wilson's decision has been frankly recognized since the war by
the German Ambassador.
But the execution of German military plans demanded that the allied
shortage in munitions, upon which the Teutons counted for success in the
spring campaigns, should not be replenished from American sources.
Failing to budge Wilson on the proposal of an embargo, they launched
themselves upon a more reckless course. On February 4, 1915, the German
Admiralty issued a proclamation to the effect that after the 18th of
February, German submarines would destroy every enemy merchant vessel
found in the waters about the British Isles, which were declared a "war
zone"; and that it might not be possible to provide for the safety of
crew or passengers of destroyed vessels. Neutral ships were warned of the
danger of destruction if they entered the zone. The excuse alleged for
this decided departure from the custom of nations was the British
blockade upon foodstuffs, which had been declared as a result of the
control of food in Germany by the Government. Here was quite a different
matter from British interference with American trade-rights; for if the
German threat were carried into effect it signified not merely the
destruction or loss of property, for which restitution might be made, but
the possible drowning of American citizens, perhaps women and children,
who would be entirely within their rights in traveling upon merchant
vessels and to whom the Government owed protection.
Wilson's reply was prompt and definite. "If the commanders of German
vessels of war should ... destroy on the high seas an American vessel or
the lives of American citizens, it would be difficult for the Government
of the United States to view the act in any other light than as an
indefensible violation of neutral rights.... The Government of the United
States would be constrained to hold the Imperial German Government to a
strict accountability for such acts of their naval authorities and to take
any steps it might be necessary to take to safeguard American lives and
property and to secure to American citizens the full enjoyment of their
acknowledged rights on the high seas." It was the clearest of warnings.
Would Germany heed it? And if she did not, would Wilson surrender his
pacific ideals and take the nation into war?