CHAPTER XIII

THE SENATE AND THE TREATY

Neither President Wilson nor those who had been working with him at Paris

seriously feared that, after securing the point of chief importance to

him at the Conference, he would fail to win support for the League of

Nations and the treaty at home. They recognized, of course, that his

political opponents in the Senate would not acquiesce without a struggle.

The Republicans were now in the majority, and Henry Cabot Lodge, the new

chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations, had gone far in his

efforts to undermine Wilson's policy at Paris. He had encouraged the

Italians in their imperialistic designs in the Adriatic and had done his

best to discredit the League of Nations. Former Progressive Senators,

such as Johnson and Borah, who like Lodge made personal hostility to

Wilson the chief plank in their political programme, had declared

vigorously their determination to prevent the entrance of the United

States into a League. The Senators as a whole were not well-informed upon

foreign conditions and Wilson had done nothing to enlighten them. He had

not asked their advice in the formulation of his policy, nor had he

supplied them with the facts that justified the position he had taken.

Naturally their attitude was not likely to be friendly, now that he

returned to request their consent to the treaty, and the approach of a

presidential election was bound to affect the action of all ardent

partisans.

Opposition was also to be expected in the country. There was always the

ancient prejudice against participation in European affairs, which had not

been broken even by the events of the past two years. The people, even

more than the Senate, were ignorant of foreign conditions and failed to

understand the character of the obligations which the nation would assume

under the treaty and the covenant of the League. There was genuine fear

lest the United States should become involved in wars and squabbles in

which it had no material interest, and lest it should surrender its

independence of action to a council of foreign powers. This was

accompanied by the belief that an irresponsible President might commit the

country to an adventurous course of action which could not be controlled

by Congress. The chief opposition to the treaty and covenant, however,

probably resulted from the personal dislike of Wilson. This feeling, which

had always been virulent along the Atlantic coast and in the industrial

centers of the Middle West, had been intensified by the President's

apparent disregard of Congress. More than one man of business argued that

the treaty must be bad because it was Wilson's work and the covenant worst

of all, since it was his pet scheme. One heard daily in the clubs and on

the golf-courses of New England and the Middle Atlantic States the remark:

"I know little about the treaty, but I know Wilson, and I know he must be

wrong."

And yet the game was probably in the President's hands, had he known how

to play it. Divided as it was on the question of personal devotion to

Wilson, the country was a unit in its desire for immediate peace and

normal conditions. Admitting the imperfections of the treaty, it was

probably the best that could be secured in view of the conflicting

interests of the thirty-one signatory powers, and at least it would bring

peace at once. To cast it aside meant long delays and prolongation of the

economic crisis. The covenant of the League might not be entirely

satisfactory, but something must be done to prevent war in the future;

and if this League proved unsatisfactory, it could be amended after

trial. Even the opposing Senators did not believe that they could defeat

the treaty outright. They were warned by Republican financiers, who

understood international economic conditions, that the safety and

prosperity of the world demanded ratification, and that the United States

could not afford to assume an attitude of isolation even if it were

possible. Broad-minded statesmen who were able to dissociate partisan

emotion from intellectual judgment, such as ex-President Taft, agreed

that the treaty should be ratified as promptly as possible. All that

Senator Lodge and his associates really hoped for was to incorporate

reservations which would guarantee the independence of American action

and incidentally make it impossible for the President to claim all the

credit for the peace.

Had the President proved capable of coöperating with the moderate

Republican Senators it would probably have been possible for him to have

saved the fruits of his labor at Paris. An important group honestly

believed that the language of the covenant was ambiguous in certain

respects, particularly as regards the extent of sovereignty sacrificed

by the national government to the League, and the diminution of

congressional powers. This group was anxious to insert reservations

making plain the right of Congress alone to declare war, defining more

exactly the right of the United States to interpret the Monroe Doctrine,

and specifying what was meant by domestic questions that should be exempt

from the cognizance of the League. Had Wilson at once combined with this

group and agreed to the suggested reservations, he would in all

probability have been able to secure the two-thirds vote necessary to

ratification. The country would have been satisfied; the Republicans

might have contended that they had "Americanized" the treaty; and the

reservations would probably have been accepted by the co-signatories. It

would have been humiliating to go back to the Allies asking special

privileges, but Europe needed American assistance too much to fail to

heed these demands. After all America had gained nothing in the way of

territorial advantage from the war and was asking for nothing in the way

of reparations.

It was at this crucial moment that Wilson's peculiar temperamental faults

asserted themselves. Sorely he needed the sane advice of Colonel House,

who would doubtless have found ways of placating the opposition. But that

practical statesman was in London and the President lacked the capacity

to arrange the compromise that House approved.

President Wilson alone either would not or could not negotiate

successfully with the middle group of Republicans. He went so far as to

initiate private conferences with various Senators, a step indicating his

desire to avoid the appearance of the dictatorship of which he was

accused; but his attitude on reservations that altered the meaning of any

portion of the treaty or covenant was unyielding, and he even insisted

that merely interpretative reservations should not be embodied in the

text of the ratifying resolution. The President evidently hoped that the

pressure of public opinion would compel the Senate to yield to the demand

for immediate peace and for guarantees against future war. His appearance

of rigidity, however, played into the hands of the opponents of the

treaty, who dominated the Foreign Relations Committee of the Senate.

Senator Lodge, chairman of the committee, adopted a stand which, to the

Administration at least, did not seem to be justified by anything but a

desire to discredit the work of Wilson. He had, in the previous year,

warmly advocated a League of Nations, but in the spring of 1919 he had

given the impression that he would oppose any League for which Wilson

stood sponsor. Thus he had raised objections to the preliminary draft of

the covenant which Wilson brought from Paris in February; but when Wilson

persuaded the Allies to incorporate some of the amendments then demanded

by Republican Senators, he at once found new objections. He did not dare

attack the League as a principle, in view of the uncertainty of public

opinion on the issue; but he obviously rejoiced in the President's

inability to unite the Democrats with the middle-ground Republicans, for

whom Senator McCumber stood as spokesman.

On the 19th of August a conference was held at the White House, in which

the President attempted to explain to the Foreign Relations Committee

doubtful points and to give the reasons for various aspects of the

settlement. A careful study of the stenographic report indicates that his

answers to the questions of the Republican Senators were frank, and that

he was endeavoring to remove the unfortunate effects of his former

distant attitude. His manner, however, had in it something of the

schoolmaster, and the conference was fruitless. Problems which had been

studied for months by experts of all the Powers, and to the solution of

which had been devoted long weeks of intelligent discussion, were now

passed upon superficially by men whose ignorance of foreign questions was

only too evident, and who barely concealed their determination to nullify

everything approved by the President. Hence, when the report of the

committee was finally presented on the 10th of September, the Republican

majority demanded no less than thirty-eight amendments and four

reservations. A quarter of the report was not concerned at all with the

subject under discussion, but was devoted to an attack upon Wilson's

autocratic methods and his treatment of the Senate. As was pointed out by

Senator McCumber, the single Republican who dissented from the majority

report, "not one word is said, not a single allusion made, concerning

either the great purposes of the League of Nations or the methods by

which these purposes are to be accomplished. Irony and sarcasm have been

substituted for argument and positions taken by the press or individuals

outside the Senate seem to command more attention than the treaty

itself."

The President did not receive the popular support which he expected, and

the burst of popular wrath which he believed would overwhelm senatorial

opposition was not forthcoming. In truth public opinion was confused.

America was not educated to understand the issues at stake. Wilson's

purposes at Paris had not been well reported in the press, and he himself

had failed to make plain the meaning of his policy. It was easy for

opponents of the treaty to muddy discussion and to arouse emotion where

reason was desirable. The wildest statements were made as to the effect of

the covenant, such as that entrance into the League would at once involve

the United States in war, and that Wilson was sacrificing the interests of

America to the selfish desires of European states. The same men who, a

year before, had complained that Wilson was opposing England and France,

now insisted that he had sold the United States to those nations. They

invented the catchword of "one hundred per cent Americanism," the test of

which was to be opposition to the treaty. They found strange coadjutors.

The German-Americans, suppressed during the war, now dared to emerge,

hoping to save the Fatherland from the effects of defeat by preventing the

ratification of the treaty; the politically active Irish found opportunity

to fulminate against British imperialism and "tyranny" which they

declared had been sanctioned by the treaty; impractical liberals, who were

disappointed because Wilson had not inaugurated the social millennium,

joined hands with out-and-out reactionaries. But the most discouraging

aspect of the situation was that so many persons permitted their judgment

to be clouded by their dislike of the President's personality. However

much they might disapprove the tactics of Senator Lodge they could not but

sympathize to some extent with the Senate's desire to maintain its

independence, which they believed had been assailed by Wilson. Discussions

which began with the merits of the League of Nations almost invariably

culminated with vitriolic attacks upon the character of Woodrow Wilson.

In the hope of arousing the country to a clear demand for immediate peace

based upon the Paris settlement, Wilson decided to carry out the plan

formulated some weeks previous and deliver a series of speeches from the

Middle West to the Pacific coast. He set forth on the 3d of September and

made more than thirty speeches. He was closely followed by some of his

fiercest opponents. Senators Johnson and Borah, members of the Foreign

Relations Committee, who might have been expected to remain in Washington

to assist in the consideration of the treaty by the Senate, followed in

Wilson's wake, attempting to counteract the effect of his addresses, and

incidentally distorting many of the treaty's provisions, which it is

charitable to assume they did not comprehend. The impression produced by

the President was varied, depending largely upon the political character

of his audience. East of the Mississippi he was received with comparative

coolness, but as he approached the coast enthusiasm became high, and at

Seattle and Los Angeles he received notable ovations. And yet in these

hours of triumph as in the previous moments of discouragement, farther

east, he must have felt that the issues were not clear. The struggle was

no longer one for a new international order that would ensure peace, so

much as a personal conflict between Lodge and Wilson. Whether the

President were applauded or anathematized, the personal note was always

present.

It was evident, during the tour, that the nervous strain was telling upon

Wilson. He had been worn seriously by his exertions in Paris, where he

was described by a foreign plenipotentiary as the hardest worker in the

Conference. The brief voyage home, which was purposely lengthened to give

him better chance of recuperation, proved insufficient. Forced to resume

the struggle at the moment when he thought victory was his, repudiated

where he expected to find appreciation, the tour proved to be beyond his

physical and nervous strength. At Pueblo, Colorado, on the 25th of

September, he broke down and returned hastily to Washington. Shortly

afterwards the President's condition became so serious that his

physicians forbade all political conferences, insisting upon a period of

complete seclusion and rest, which was destined to continue for many

months.

Thus at the moment of extreme crisis in the fortunes of the treaty its

chief protagonist was removed from the scene of action and the Democratic

forces fighting for ratification were deprived of effective leadership.

Had there been a real leader in the Senate who could carry on the fight

with vigor and finesse, the treaty might even then have been saved; but

Wilson's system had permitted no understudies. There was no one to lead

and no one to negotiate a compromise. From his sick-room, where his

natural obstinacy seemed to be intensified by his illness, the President

still refused to consider any reservations except of a purely

interpretative character, and the middle-ground Republicans would not

vote to ratify without "mild reservations," some of which seemed to him

more than interpretative.

Senatorial forces were roughly divided into four groups. There were the

"bitter-enders," typified by Johnson, Borah, and Brandegee, who frankly

wanted to defeat the treaty and the League outright; there were the

"reservationists," most of whom, like Lodge, wanted the same but did not

dare say so openly; there were the "mild reservationists," most of whom

were Republicans, who sincerely desired immediate peace and asked for no

important changes in the treaty; and finally there were those who desired

to ratify the treaty as it stood. The last-named group, made up of

Democrats, numbered from forty-one to forty-four, and obviously needed

the assistance of the "mild reservationists," if they were to secure a

two-thirds vote of the Senate. During October, all the amendments which

the Foreign Relations Committee brought forward were defeated through the

combination of the last two groups. Early in November, however, fourteen

reservations were adopted, the "mild reservationists" voting with Senator

Lodge, for lack of any basis of compromise with the Democrats. The effect

of these reservations would, undoubtedly, have been to release the

United States from many of the obligations assumed by other members,

while assuring to it the benefits of the League. The most serious of the

reservations was that concerned with Article X of the covenant, which

stated that the United States would assume no obligations to preserve the

territorial integrity or political independence of any other country, or

to interfere in controversies between nations, unless in any particular

case Congress should so provide. From the moment when Wilson first

developed his policy of international service, coöperative interference

in order to prevent acts of aggression by a strong against a weaker power

had been the chief point in his programme. It was contained in his early

Pan-American policy; it ran through his speeches in the campaign of 1916;

it was in the Fourteen Points. It was his specific contribution to the

covenant in Paris. Article X was the one point in the covenant which

Wilson would not consent to modify or, as he expressed it, see

"nullified." Just because it lay nearest Wilson's heart, it was the

article against which the most virulent attacks of the "die-hards" were

directed.

The President denounced the reservation on Article X, as a "knife-thrust

at the heart of the covenant," and its inclusion in the ratifying

resolution of the Senate, spelled the defeat of ratification. On the eve

of voting he wrote to Senator Hitchcock, leader of the Democratic forces

in the Senate, "I assume that the Senators only desire my judgment upon

the all-important question of the resolution containing the many

reservations of Senator Lodge. On that I cannot hesitate, for, in my

opinion, the resolution in that form does not provide for ratification

but rather for nullification of the treaty. I sincerely hope that the

friends and supporters of the treaty will vote against the Lodge

resolution of ratification." The "mild reservationists" led by McCumber

voted with the Lodge group for the resolution; but the "bitter-enders,"

combining with the supporters of the original treaty, outnumbered them.

The vote stood thirty-nine in favor of the resolution and fifty-five

against. When a motion for unconditional ratification was offered by

Senator Underwood, it was defeated by a vote of fifty-three to

thirty-eight.

The Republicans on the Foreign Relations Committee had succeeded far

beyond the hopes of their leaders in August. They had killed the treaty,

but in such an indirect fashion as to confuse the public and to fix upon

the President the blame for delaying the peace. It was easy to picture

the obstinacy of the President as the root of all the evil which

resulted from the political and economic uncertainty overhanging our

European relations. So widespread was this feeling among his natural

opponents, that the Republican Senators began to assume a far loftier

tone, and to laugh at the tardy efforts of the Democrats to arrange a

compromise. When Senator Pomerene, after consultation with Administration

leaders, proposed the appointment of a "committee of conciliation," to

find a basis of ratification that would secure the necessary two-thirds

vote, the motion was killed by forty-eight to forty-two. Senator Lodge

announced that he would support the resolution suggested by Knox, which

would end the war by congressional resolution and thus compel Wilson to

negotiate a separate treaty of peace with Germany.

Intelligent public opinion, however, was anxious that the quarrels of the

President and the Senate should not be allowed to delay the

settlement[15]. Rightly or wrongly the people felt that the struggle was

largely a personal one between Lodge and Wilson, and insisted that each

must yield something of their contention. On the one hand, ex-President

Taft and others of the more far-seeing Republicans worked anxiously for

compromise, with the assistance of such men as Hoover, who perceived the

necessity of a League, but who were willing to sacrifice its efficiency

to some extent, if only the United States could be brought in. On the

other hand, various Democrats who were less directly under Wilson's

influence wanted to meet these friends of the League half-way. During

December and January unofficial conferences between the senatorial groups

took place and progress towards a settlement seemed likely. The

Republicans agreed to soften the language of their minor reservations,

and Wilson even intimated that he would consent to a mild reservation on

Article X, although as he later wrote to Hitchcock, he felt strongly that

any reservation or resolution stating that the "United States assumes no

obligation under such and such an article unless or except, would chill

our relationship with the nations with whom we expect to be associated in

this great enterprise of maintaining the world's peace." It was

important "not to create the impression that we are trying to escape

obligations."

[Footnote 15: A straw vote taken in 311 colleges and including 158,000

students and professors showed an inclination to favor Wilson rather than

Lodge, but the greatest number approved compromise: four per cent favored

a new treaty with Germany; eight per cent favored killing the Versailles

treaty; only seventeen per cent approved the Lodge programme; thirty per

cent approved ratification of the treaty without change; and thirty-eight

per cent favored compromise.]

On the 31st of January the country was startled by the publication of a

letter written by Viscount Grey, who had been appointed British Ambassador

to the United States, but who had returned to England after a four months'

stay, during which he had been unable to secure an interview with the sick

President. In this letter he attempted to explain to the British the

causes of American hesitancy to accept the League. He then went on to

state that the success of the League depended upon the adherence of the

United States, and while admitting the serious character of the

reservations proposed by Senator Lodge, insisted that American coöperation

ought not to be refused because conditions were attached. His views were

unofficial, but it seemed clear that they were approved by the British

Cabinet, and they received a chorus of endorsement from the French and

British press.

The publication of Grey's letter opened a path to peace to both Senate

and President had they been willing to follow it. The Senate, by very

slight verbal softening of the language of its reservations, the

President by taking the British Ambassador at his word, might have

reached an agreement. The Lodge group, however, which had shown some

indications of a desire for compromise, was threatened by the "die-hards"

who were determined to defeat the treaty; fearing beyond everything to

break party unity, Lodge finally refused to alter the language of the

strong reservation on Article X, which stated that the United States

would assume no obligation to preserve the independence of other nations

by military force or the use of its resources or any form of economic

discrimination, unless Congress should first so provide. Inasmuch as the

economic outlawry of the offending state was the means which Wilson

chiefly counted upon, the reservation took all practical significance

from Article X, since the delays resulting from congressional

deliberation would prevent effective action. The President, possibly

believing that imperialist elements abroad were not sorry to see Article

X nullified, refused to accept the resolution of ratification so long as

it contained this reservation. "The imperialist," he wrote, "wants no

League of Nations, but if, in response to the universal cry of masses

everywhere, there is to be one, he is interested to secure one suited to

his own purposes, one that will permit him to continue the historic game

of pawns and peoples--the juggling of provinces, the old balance of

power, and the inevitable wars attendant upon these things. The

reservation proposed would perpetuate the old order. Does any one really

want to see the old game played again? Can any one really venture to take

part in reviving the old order? The enemies of a League of Nations have

by every true instinct centered their efforts against Article X, for it

is undoubtedly the foundation of the whole structure. It is the bulwark,

and the only bulwark of the rising democracy of the world against the

forces of imperialism and reaction."

The deadlock was complete, and on March 19, 1920, when the vote on

ratification was taken, the necessary two-thirds were lacking by seven

votes. At the last moment a number of Democrats joined with the

Republican reservationists, making fifty-seven in favor of ratification.

On the other hand the bitter-end Republicans voted against it with the

Democrats who stood by the President, thus throwing thirty-seven votes

against ratification. It had taken the Peace Conference five months to

construct the treaty with Germany in all its complexities, and secure the

unanimous approval of the delegates of thirty-one states. The Senate had

consumed more than eight months merely in criticizing the treaty and had

finally refused to ratify it.

We are, perhaps, too close to the event to attempt any apportionment of

responsibility for this failure to cap our military successes by a peace

which--when all has been said--was the nearest possible approach to the

ideal peace. It is clear that the blame is not entirely on one side.

Historians will doubtless level the indictment of ignorance and political

obliquity against the Senators who tried, either directly or indirectly,

to defeat the treaty; they will find much justification for their charge,

although it will be more difficult to determine the dividing line between

mere incapacity to appreciate the necessities of the world, and the

desire to discredit, at any cost, the work of Woodrow Wilson. On the

other hand, the President cannot escape blame, although the charge will

be merely that of tactical incapacity and mistaken judgment. His

inability to combine with the moderate Republican Senators first gave a

chance to those who wanted to defeat the treaty. His obstinate refusal to

accept reservations at the end, when it was clear that the treaty could

not be ratified without them, showed a regard for form, at the expense of

practical benefit. Granted that the reservations altered the character

of the League or the character of American participation in it, some sort

of a League was essential and the sooner the United States entered the

better it would be. Its success would not rest upon phrases, but upon the

spirit of the nations that composed it; the building-up of a new and

better international order would not be determined by this reservation or

that. Wilson's claim to high rank as a statesmen would probably be more

clear if he had accepted what was possible at the moment, in the hope

that the League would be improved as the country and the world became

better educated.

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