AUSTRALIA AND THE ANGLO-JAPANESE ALLIANCE
1
The tempest in the European teapot has become a tornado in the Pacific.
Small as the Balkans are, they were the stumbling-block in the way of
the downward expansion of the European powers.
The tragedy in Europe has left Europe in the background. Civilization is
rapidly veering round in the direction of the Pacific. There are little
nations to-day whose possession is as fraught with unhappy consequences
as anything in southern Europe ever was. Yet we hear innocent dispensers
of information assure us that Yap is only a little speck in the Pacific
over which no one would think of going to war. They forget that America
nearly went to war with Germany in 1889 over the Samoan Islands, which
then meant much less to her. And the settlement in Europe at the Peace
Conference has greatly enhanced the position of the present powers in
the Pacific.
Until very recently two developments in Pacific affairs had not been
given as much prominence in the press as they deserved. One, the
Anglo-Japanese Alliance, and the other the British Imperial Conferences,
held every other year since 1907. Just in proportion as the Imperial
Conferences have become, as it were, a super-Parliament to Great
Britain, so has the Anglo-Japanese Alliance waned. And just as the
so-called mandates over the various island groups in the mid-Pacific
congeal from lofty aspirations to concrete management there are emerging
in the Pacific the identical antagonisms that made of the little group
of states in Southern Europe the cause of the conflict.
The Anglo-Japanese Alliance was formed in 1902. Its aim was to oust
Russia, and to guarantee British interests in China. Later on it was
revised to include Japanese protection over India. But consonant with
that agreement there blossomed in the British Empire a new thing to be
reckoned with,--an independent Australian navy. That navy has by no
means matured, it is not and cannot for years to come be a great
consideration in the Pacific, but it has been from the start prophetic
and explanatory of much that is taking place to-day. It is at the bottom
of the problem, because it is the beginning of Australian independence,
of her rise to nationhood. Let me rehearse the historical incidents in
connection with this development.
Now, until the advent of that navy all the colonies had been paying
certain sums yearly toward the maintenance of the British Navy,--Canada,
Australia, New Zealand alike. But with the federation of the
Commonwealth, Australia began to agitate in no mistaken terms for a navy
of her own, to be built and manned by Australians, and kept in
Australian waters, rushing only in an emergency to the support of the
empire. Canada decided otherwise,--i.e., to build her own ships, but to
merge them with the home fleet; New Zealand continued the old scheme.
Being twelve hundred miles away from Australia, her isolation and her
inadequate resources and population made her more timorous. With
Australia the construction of a separate little fleet was the beginning
of a straining at the leash. Then came the Anglo-Japanese Alliance,
which, while it allayed the fears of the Australians somewhat,
intensified certain other phases of the problem, such as the
White-Australia policy. The Russo-Japanese War did nothing to allay
apprehension on the part of the Australasians.
For years both the Dominion and the Commonwealth were absolutely
obsessed by the naval question. Sir Joseph Ward, the Prime Minister of
New Zealand, championed a single, undivided imperial navy; the late Mr.
Alfred Deakin of Australia stood out strongly in favor of an independent
navy. Seeing little hope of a very strong concession from England,
Deakin extended and urged an invitation, in 1908, to the American fleet
to visit Australia. He admitted that his object was to arouse Britain to
fear an Australian-American "alliance." The thrust went home. The
English "felt that it was using strong measures for an Australian
statesman to use a foreign fleet as a means of forwarding a project
which was not approved by the Admiralty." But even Sir Joseph Ward let
himself go to the extent of declaring that they welcomed America as
"natural allies in the coming struggle against Japanese domination."
And when at last the American fleet came to Australia, it received an
ovation such as still rings in the conversation of any Australian with
an American. For an entire week Sydney celebrated. Melbourne followed
suit; New Zealand could not but take up the cue. Every one pointed with
pride to the similarity between the Australian and the American.
Australian girls virtually threw themselves into the arms of American
sailors. It is even said that many a sailor remained behind with an
Australian wife. Not even the Prince of Wales (now King George) was
given such an ovation.
After that visit, so cordial was the attitude of Australians that
everywhere they talked of floating the Stars and Stripes in the event
of--what? In the event of pressure from Downing Street or from Tokyo.
The Australian temperament is not one which buries its grievances or
harbors ill-feeling. The Australian speaks right out that which is on
his mind. And though much must be discounted because of this bubbling
personality, almost primitive in its extremes, nothing that affects
Australia can long be ignored by us.
Frankly, the situation is this: Australia is set on her so-called
White-Australia policy. Australia made it clear to England that,
alliance or no alliance, she would never swerve from her policy of
excluding Japanese and Chinese. When the American fleet appeared,
knowing the exclusion of Orientals practised in America, Australia felt
that bond of fellowship which comes from common danger. And everything
was done to develop friendship; America became the pattern for
everything Australian. Never particularly fond of the Englishman, at
times discriminating against him as much as against the Oriental,
advertising that "No Englishman Need Apply" when looking for labor,
afraid of the little yellow man up there,--Australia naturally looked to
America as a possible defender.
But along came the European war. Great Britain was in danger. America
held aloof. Then everything changed. The wave of anti-American sentiment
in Australia was much more pronounced than in New Zealand. This was a
strange anomaly, for inherently New Zealand is much more imperialistic.
But it was characteristic of the Australian. There was almost a boycott
against American goods. One firm published a scurrilous advertisement
which the American Consul-General at Melbourne showed me and said he had
sent to Washington. For a time it looked rather serious, but in view of
the Australian character, its importance was not very great. It was the
impetuosity of a little boy, disgruntled because his opinion was not
feared. Many said openly: "We were so fond of America and thought you
were our friend. From now on we don't want anything from you. We don't
want your protection."
Yet, as late as December 8, 1916, the Sydney "Morning Herald" said
editorially: "And _those of us who think of a possible run under
America's wings_ forget that her strength at present is proportionately
no greater than our own [Australia's]. She is not ready for either
offence or defence and she knows it. This being so, can we ask Great
Britain," etc. The feeling toward America at that time was only
commensurate with the petty jealousies that now rankle somewhat because
of fear that America has taken to herself too much credit for the
accomplishment of victory. But then it gave that stimulus to navalism in
the South that the Australians wanted; further, it gave birth to the
movement for greater independence in imperial affairs, which for
twenty-five years had determined the policies of the several states.
Just recently a New Zealand navalist, writing in the "Auckland Weekly
News" (New Zealand), brought up the dread specter "balance of power"
again, calling attention to the fact that inasmuch as Japan is a great
naval power and America is increasing her naval strength, it is for
democratic Australasia to see to it that Great Britain does not lag
behind with its fleet in the Pacific,--to maintain the balance of power.
And the further sad fact was revealed that Australasia (seen in the
expression of this one individual at least) did not care particularly
whether, in the event of conflict, they were on the side of America or
Japan.
Feeling did not take the same turn in New Zealand. That little country
continued in its more imperialistic tendencies, was content to be a
finger in the great hand of empire. In 1909, at the Imperial Conference,
Mr. Joseph Ward sprung a surprise by offering a battle-cruiser to the
Government without consulting his constituents at home. For this he was
knighted. But the New Zealanders were in a mood to make him pay for it
himself when he returned. Mr. (now Sir Joseph) Ward was severely
criticized for what he did. He was ridiculed even by the university lads
during their "Capping Carnival." They took him off in effigy and carried
a little boat with a sign saying: "This is the toy he bought his crown
with." Upon his return from the conference he lost his Prime
Ministership and a "conservative" government came into power. Later
developments so justified him that he became a sort of political idol
for a while. When the cruiser visited New Zealand, in 1913, the
excitement knew no bounds.
Germany was always regarded as a potential enemy. The colonies had
always arched their backs at the proximity of German possessions in the
South Seas. When in 1889 Samoa was the bone of contention, the colonies
were rather eager to have America take it, in preference to the Germans.
Then, as Japan came to the fore, America as a potential protection
became more and more obvious to Australasians. The Panama Canal
intensified their conviction. They looked forward to a combination of
British and American power for the furtherance of peace as they
conceived it should be maintained, and consciousness of their own
destiny in the Pacific was stimulated. Suddenly they were brought close
to the United States. The anti-Japanese riots in California, the
annexation of Hawaii, the protectorate over the Philippines all pointed
to the Australasians lessons for their own guidance. They could not
expect from England the same keen interest in racial questions which
manifested itself in America. America demonstrated the dangers of having
two unmixable races like the white and the black together; Hawaii showed
them that Asiatic immigration is a breeder of trouble. They do not seem
to see that circumstances are not the same, that the pressure of
population has become much more keen, that industrial conditions in the
world to-day are altogether different from what they were when Great
Britain refused to have her American colonies put down the kidnapping of
Africans; that America to-day has 110,000,000 people and has encouraged
them to come from every country in Europe, as Australia does not.
Australia looks only at the most obvious phase of the problem,--that
certain people are not happy together. Whether or not she
over-estimates her own strength against the pressure of changed
conditions, remains to be seen, but she is pursuing her own course with
a certain steadfastness that is at once a pathetic blindness and a
courageous self-assertion. In a country whose political outlook is
essentially generous, whose labor experiments have been extremely costly
to her, it strikes one as a great contradiction of principle. How can a
labor government be so utterly opposed to the extension of ideal
opportunities to laborers from other lands seeking to enjoy them? How
can she be so utterly capitalistic on a national scale when nearly
everything within her own ken is laboristic? The explanation of this
enigma lies in a certain measure in the manner in which Australia has
set about making herself independent of her mother country and, while
working indirectly for the break-up of the empire, is becoming imperial
in her own small way. All these counter currents must be seen clearly
before understanding can follow. They whirl about the pillar of
imperialism--England--and have come out clearly since the war. They
hinge upon the mandates over the South Sea Islands.
2
While, as has been shown, Australia has for twenty years pursued a
course that threatens to lead toward separation from England, New
Zealand has bound herself closer and closer. Australia, however, has
been extremely shy of any semblance of rupture. She does not want to
break away. She feels her isolation too much. But what she wants is in a
sense the rights that American states have within the Union. She wants
to be independent, to be able to develop in her own way, to expand, if
necessary, without danger of attack. This spirit is inherent in the
Australian temperament. When I told any Australian that I was traveling
and tramping on "me own," he could not understand it. He could not go
without a mate. He wanted to be sure that if he got into any scrape and
was with his back to the wall, his mate was there to help him. Still, he
wanted to fight alone. It did not seem to occur to any of these people
that a civilized man might go the wild world over and not have occasion
to fight. And this trait comes out in Australian international
relations. She wants to pursue the White-Australia policy contrary to
sentiment in England, to develop her own navy, to hold the whole
continent against the time when full nationhood will have become a
reality. But for the time at least she will not declare her independence
of Great Britain. She will not even give Britain the imperial preference
in trade which would compensate her for her trouble. But she did show in
the last war that she realized her responsibilities. In the Boer War it
was said that her assistance was merely for the sake of giving her men
adventure and practice for possible later use in her own defense. And in
this war conscription was defeated because, as it was openly declared,
it was not certain what the turn of affairs in Europe might be. It was
felt imperative that the men be not all gone and the continent left
undefended. And that contingency was voiced by the Premier of Queensland
as involving--Japan. To the outsider, Australia's attitude seems
extremely selfish, but to enthusiastic young Australia, with the wide
world before her, with a future that looks as promising as that of
America, it seems the only logical one. And as long as her potential
enemies do not take the trouble to show by deeds that they are not
enemies, her reasoning is not unjustifiable.
But a strange thing has happened to Australia. She has got what she was
after, and now she hardly wants it. She fought for the imperial
conference method of settling imperial affairs. Australians have time
and again declared that though an empire, they are a nation first and
foremost. That the empire represented too heterogeneous a list of
peoples for them to forget that an Indian, though part of the empire, is
still an inferior as far as they are concerned. And Australia realized
that the mother country could not see eye to eye with her on that score.
Yet she insists on the Anglo-Japanese Alliance remaining in some form
acceptable to her and to America. How is that to be? What has happened
since peace was declared?
Australia and New Zealand were loudest in the protest against the return
of the South Sea Islands to the Germans. New Zealand soldiers had taken
Samoa; the Australian navy--what there was of it--had cleared the
neighboring seas of German raiders. But though they asked that Germany
be deprived of the possessions, and though the leaders thundered for a
New Zealand mandate over Samoa and an Australian mandate over New
Guinea, the people realized that they did not particularly care for the
burden of looking after these lands. Mr. Hughes of Australia urged
annexation. The people as a whole preferred that Great Britain should
annex them and guarantee the dominions against possible dangers from
enemy control. They felt they could not stand the cost of governing
them. They were even not averse to their being turned over to America.
They have come to realize that they were much better off before the war,
when they merely contributed their small quota to the support of the
navy; now Great Britain has intimated that she can no longer maintain
that navy without their full share in its costs. Besides, the mandate
over the islands is not going to be simple.
3
Before giving consideration to the developments which not even the
Australasians had anticipated, let us look upon the gains they have
made. They have acquired some new possessions which make of them an
empire within the empire, as it were. The islands of the south Pacific
are to be ruled as though they were an integral part of New Zealand and
Australia, yet they have their own facets just as the Dominions had
their own problems within the empire. They afford them certain
commercial advantages: copra and cocoa from Samoa, phosphate from Nauru,
which alone has an estimated deposit amounting to forty-two million
tons. Nauru is of utmost importance to them because they are extensive
agricultural countries. It has been agreed that Great Britain take 42%,
Australia 42%, and New Zealand 16% of the export. The South Seas as a
whole supply 14.7% of the world's copra supply, and this may yet be
greatly increased. But this is nothing compared with the advantages they
afford as ports of call. Further, if the plan of linking the islands
together by wireless is effected, they will become an outer frontier for
the Antipodes of inestimable value. There is even a faint suggestion of
binding them together into one separate governmental entity,--a buffer
state, as it were, between the big powers in the Pacific.
But what are these few assets compared with the greatly extended line of
defense now left to the Dominion to keep up? What is that to the great
problem of how to develop the native races? Australia is interested in
developing Queensland, a tropical region, not the distant island beyond.
The question of labor is bad enough for themselves, without having added
regions to worry about. Throughout the Pacific the problem of where to
secure man-power is pressing. Hawaii cries for labor; Samoa is in a
similar state; Fiji is troubled with the indentured Indians now there.
Go where one will, the islands would yield readily enough if cheap labor
were available. But Australia and New Zealand are not willing to exploit
these islands at the expense of cheap Asiatic labor which evolves into a
racial problem as soon as its returns become adequate. As for the
mandates both labor and capital in the South Seas are not keen about
these war orphans. A further problem is, what will happen when the
policy applied to island possessions conflicts with the course permitted
by the law of the mandate? What is worse yet, the mandate over the South
Seas has brought Japan closer by hundreds of miles to both New Zealand
and Australia, and has thrown open the question of admission of Asiatic
people to these islands. The Australasians feel that they are obliged to
protect not only themselves from Asiatic competition, but the native
races as well. If they are to carry out the provisions of the mandate to
rule the islands for the good of the natives, they feel that they cannot
introduce Asiatic labor, which undermines the natives economically and
morally every time it is attempted. These are some of the problems
Australasia inherited from the Peace Conference.
How have they affected the relations of New Zealand and the Commonwealth
of Australia with Great Britain? They have put a new strain upon the
empire as such; they have put an added strain upon the relations between
Japan and Great Britain; they have driven a wedge into the
Anglo-Japanese Alliance.
Further, the whole question of mandates as it pertains to the Pacific
has completely opened new sores. The island of Yap, which has been in
the press so much of late, is an example. A blow at so vital a factor in
world relations as cables would be like a blow on the medulla oblongata.
Yet under that new and misleading term, "mandate," Yap became Japanese,
and the near future is not likely to know just what was done when
Germany's colonies were apportioned under its ruling. Yet what is fair
for Great Britain and the Dominions should be fair for Japan, and if
mandate means possession for one it ought to mean it for the other. But
where do we come in and where the peace of the Pacific? Already, as
stated elsewhere, Japan has had in mind the fortification of the
Marshall Islands. She is proceeding to fortify the Bonin Islands and the
Pescadores. She is, according to a very recent rumor,--and rumors are
really the only things one can secure in such matters,--establishing an
airship station on the southeast coast of Formosa,--not on the west,
which would shorten her distance to China, but on the east, cutting down
mileage to the Philippines. And we? Well, we know what we are about,
too. Hence, the sooner such matters as mandates are defined, the better
for the world.
4
How would these things work out with the new British arrangement as to
the control of the Dominions? We have seen that behind the whole
struggle for the development of an Australian navy was the desire for
greater independence. As long as the war lasted, no troublesome topics
were broached. Now that the war is over, one may expect the feathers to
begin to fly. The Dominions are not stifling their desire for greater
and greater freedom. They were involved in a colossal war without ever
having been consulted. They feel that now they have earned their right
to express judgment on international affairs. They realize that nothing
could be done effectively if Downing Street were hampered by several
wills at work at the same time. Yet it is obvious that the people of the
Dominions are concerned first with their own affairs, as nations, and
are devoted to Britain only in a secondary manner. They are now
conscious of their power, and are determined to wield it. They have made
and are doing everything to continue to make friends on their own, by
whom they mean to stand through thick and thin. At the Peace Conference
they were not inferior to any of the deliberators, and signed the Peace
Treaty as virtual members of the League of Nations.
"But," asks the Wellington "Evening Post," "are the Dominions ever to
cast an international vote against the Mother Country on a question
relating, say, to the future of the Pacific regarding which their
interests and wishes might rather harmonize with those of the United
States?"
Mr. Massey, the Prime Minister of New Zealand, on the other hand, held
"that the Dominions had signed the Treaty not as independent nations in
the ordinary sense, but as nations within the Empire or partners in the
Empire."
But to show how complicated the whole position was, a Mr. W. Downie
Stewart, M.P., pointed out that
When New Zealand signed the Peace Treaty ... she took upon herself
the status of a power involving herself in all the rights and
obligations of one of the signatories.... That means that she may
have created for herself a new status altogether in the world of
foreign affairs, and instead of being an act to bring together more
closely the component parts of the Empire, it may be that it was
the first and most serious step toward obtaining our independence
and treating ourselves as a sovereign power.
And in connection with Samoa he says the time may come when, having been
recognized as an independent power, they will be told "we look to you in
future, whenever a question of internal affairs arises, to act as an
independent power, making peace or war on your own initiative."
Prime Minister Hughes, of Australia, however, has been steering a middle
course. He points to the dangers lying ahead, and to the absolute
necessity of keeping close to Britain. He urges that the alliance with
Japan be renewed, but in such a way as to leave no danger of losing
America's friendship. But he shows that the spirit of independence is
still uppermost in Australia. Declaring that "The June Conference has
not been called to even consider Constitutional changes," he adds: "It
it is painfully evident from articles which have appeared in the press
and in magazines ... that to a certain type of mind, the Constitution of
the British Empire is far from what it should be."
But though Hughes is to-day the leader of Australia, it is not because
he has the country back of him. It is rather because there is
unfortunately no better man on hand. He has never cared much for
consistency, and even in the matter of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance there
is a suggestion of yielding that makes one feel uncertain. He has
declared that at the present conference the question of a reorganization
of the Government so as to give the Dominions a direct share in the
control of imperial affairs is not even being thought of, but it is
evident in his speech that that question is going to be delayed only
because more pressing matters, such as the Anglo-Japanese Alliance and
Imperial Naval Defense, must be dealt with first. In other words, as
spokesman he realizes that "little" Australia, with its five million
people and its vast continent has asked too much of its parent to be
allowed to stand alone. So he is pouring oil on the troubled waters by
trying to devise an Anglo-Japanese Treaty "in such form, modified, if
that should be deemed proper, as will be acceptable to Britain, to
America, to Japan, and to ourselves."
But there is a third consideration in this whole question, and that is
Japan. What is Japan going to say about it all? For some time Japanese
have been rather cool in their enthusiasm over the alliance, because it
seems to them to have outlived its usefulness and because Article 4
absolves Great Britain from assisting Japan in the event of war with
America. The "Osaka Asahi," one of the most influential of Japanese
journals, has boldly advocated its abrogation. The reason for both
British and Japanese indifference is obvious. Russia and Germany are out
of the way. British mercantile interests are not at all satisfied with
Japanese methods in China. The alliance has been disregarded
twice,--when the Sino-Japanese Military Agreement was signed, and when
the Twenty-one Demands were made. Furthermore, the alliance never
protected Japanese interests when they came in conflict with the
interests of the colonies, nor has it prevented British interests from
suffering in the Far East. As a protective alliance it has little more
to do except to guarantee Great Britain against Japan and Japan against
Great Britain. China is extremely antagonistic, because she deems
herself to be the worst sufferer. She is the main point under
consideration, yet she has not been consulted. Hence she has done
everything in her power to arouse public opinion against its renewal.
Nevertheless, Japan has been concerned enough for the renewal of the
alliance to make a departure from her age-long attitude toward the
imperial family that is extremely interesting if not illuminating. The
recent visit to England of Prince Hirohito, heir to the throne, while
meant to widen his grasp of world affairs, was certainly intended also
to arouse public feeling there in favor of Japan and the alliance. This
was the first time that any Japanese prince of the blood had left Japan.
He hobnobbed with the common people, a thing unheard of in Japan. But if
he succeeded in winning popular approval for the alliance, it was
doubtless worth while from the Japanese point of view. Otherwise the
risk would not have been justified, for such visits are not without
their dangers. It is interesting to recall that when Nicholas,
Czarevitch of Russia, made a tour of the world upon the completion of
the Siberian Railway, in 1891, he passed through Japan. An attack upon
his person by a Japanese policeman nearly brought down the wrath of the
czar upon Japan, and there was much explanation.
While Japan was anxious to have the alliance renewed, she argued that
England was more in need of it than she. America, she said, had somewhat
eclipsed England. Japanese feel that England must now lean on Japan as
never before. They felt this when the alliance was formed. Count
Hayashi, in his "Secret Memoirs," quotes a statement attributed to
Marquis Ito, as follows:
It is difficult to understand why England has broken her record in
foreign politics and has decided to enter into an alliance with us;
the mere fact that England has adopted this attitude shows that she
is in dire need, and she therefore wants to use us in order to make
us bear some of her burdens.
Ito was then playing Russia against England. To-day England is being
played against America, and the colonies are eager to utilize the
feelings of Japan and America for a greater Pacific fleet and for their
own augmented freedom within the empire. There is much talk of a secret
agreement existing between Japan and Great Britain. Even if there were,
Great Britain would be able to live up to it, in the event of war
between Japan and America, only at the risk of losing her colonies.
However, that need not be taken as a serious check, for though Great
Britain wants her colonies, she does not want them enough to forego all
other considerations. On the other hand, a good deal of the pro-American
feeling in the colonies cannot be accepted too easily, for, as we have
seen, when America remained neutral they forgot blood relationship in
their criticism. To-day there are interpretations of the alliance which
would put Great Britain in exactly the same position toward her younger
"daughters" for which Australasia condemned America in 1914-17. But both
the psychological and material elements in the situation point to an
absolutely united front in Australasia for America in event of all the
talk about war with Japan coming to a head. That is best illustrated by
a statement in the "Japan Chronicle." The editor says: "As we have
repeatedly pointed out, it is unthinkable that Britain should join Japan
in actual warfare with America. No Ministry in England which
deliberately adopted such a policy would live for a single day." And the
colonies, from Canada to Australia, will echo that sentiment, as they
did boldly at the Conference.
But it seems that with so much of the world vitally interested in
maintaining peace in the Pacific there should be no difficulty at all in
so doing. The colonies are sincere in their desire for amity with
America; nor is it merely a matter of common language. No one who has
taken the trouble to inquire into Far Eastern affairs finds the handicap
of language even the remotest cause of misunderstanding. Actions speak
louder than words, and none but the ignorant can now misread what is
going on in Asia. Let but those actions coincide with the promises made,
with the spirit of the alliance and with the constant expression of
amity and good-will, and we shall see the mist of war in the Pacific
clear as before the glories of the morning sun.
There seems, therefore, no justification for the renewal of the
Anglo-Japanese Alliance. It is to all intents and purposes virtually
dead. Alliances on the whole have proved themselves treacherous
safeguards. Is there not something which can be substituted for them?
Cannot coöperation among nations replace intriguing misalliances, with
their vicious secret diplomacy? One way has been launched, and in the
succeeding chapter its character will be analyzed.