Capital, it is often said, is cosmopolitan; capital knows no such thing
as patriotism. This may be true of the cautious, colorless capital
of ordinary finance and industry. It is not true of the capital upon
which speculative enterprise is based. It was an intense patriotism
that was avowed by Jay Gould and Harriman; intense is the patriotism
of J. J. Hill, of the DuPonts and the Guggenheims. Even Mellen is, or
was, patriotic in his feelings toward New England. But most intense
of all is the patriotism of the capitalist whose interests lie in the
twilight zone of the barbaric belt. Purer expressions of devotion to
America, of deep concern for her future, than those issuing from the
lips of American concessionaries in Mexico, you never hear. We were all
moved by the grandiose African dream of Cecil Rhodes. “All red”--i. e.
British--a British heart within every black skin, from the Cape to
Cairo. The case is typical of the capitalist speculator abroad. He
is a patriot through thick and thin, not a white-blooded “cit” like
you and me, who before volunteering support for our country’s acts
would presume to pass judgment upon them. He is a patriot who would
knock a chip off the shoulder of the meanest upstart of a barbarian
dictator--without regard to the cost of doing it: not a calculator,
like you and me.
By interest, the concessionary capitalist is a patriot. He needs his
country in his business. But this is by no means the whole explanation
of his patriotism. His type is reckless, and therefore generous and
idealistic. He must love and admire great things, and what thing is
greater than the imperial dominion of his country? One must have a mean
opinion of human nature to suspect the purity of the motives of Cecil
Rhodes. Doubtless Rhodes began with selfish motives, but his private
interests were soon submerged in his imperial ambitions. We may not
be justified in assuming that selfish interest operates, to the utter
exclusion of all patriotic motives. It does not necessarily follow
that because Mr. William Randolph Hearst, for example, has mines in
Mexico, his motives are determined by them. His Mexican interests would
be advanced if the American boundary were extended to include all on
this side of Panama. Is this, however, the whole tale of his aggressive
Americanism? Patriotism has always burned more brightly in border
provinces than in the heart of the national territory. It is natural,
then, that patriotism should be still more intense in those extensions
of the national domain represented by permanent interests abroad.
In an ideal scheme of things, love of one’s own country would not
involve hatred and contempt for other countries. But patriotism
compounded with financial interest does usually produce detestation for
the corresponding alien compound. We who meet the Germans in America,
in England, in Germany, engaged in the common labor of advancing man’s
control over nature, respect them, and if we see much of them, love
them. Our capitalist speculators in South America and in the Orient,
meeting their similars of German nationality, hate them heartily. Those
speculators are the nerve ends of modern industrial nationalism, and
they are specialized to the work of conveying sensations of hate.
For the present we have few nerves of the kind, and all they have
succeeded in conveying to us is a vague feeling of uneasiness over the
German advance in the colonial field. Far more powerful must have been
the reaction upon nations like England and France that are serious
competitors in the same field. And German capitalist speculators,
thwarted in their designs by the English and the French, have
contributed to the popular feeling that Germany must fight for what she
gets.
The capitalistic speculator, even when operating at home where
his action may be directed against us, enjoys a power over the
popular imagination, and a political influence quite incommensurate
with the extent of his interests. When the seat of his operations
is a foreign territory, whence flow back reports of his great
achievements--achievements that cost us nothing, and that bring home
fortunes to be taxed and spent among us--his social and political
influence attains even more exaggerated proportions. And this is
the more significant in view of the fact that his relations with
government--now even a more important part of his business--are
concentrated upon that most sensitive of governmental organs, the
foreign office.
When diplomatic questions concerning the non-industrial belt arise, and
most modern diplomatic questions concern this belt, the voice of the
concessionaries is heard in the councils of state. This voice is the
more convincing because of the patriotism that colors its expression
of interest. What is perhaps more important, the ordinary conduct of
exploitative business in an undeveloped state keeps the concessionary
in constant relation with the consular and diplomatic officers
established there. In a sense, such officers are the concessionary’s
agents, yet their communications to the home office are the material
out of which diplomatic situations are created.
It is accordingly idle to suppose that exploitative capital in foreign
investments weighs in foreign policy only as an equal capital at
home. When we consider the personality of the director of colonial
enterprise, the conditions in which he meets competitors of foreign
nations, and his relations with the foreign service of his home
government, we can readily understand how a very small investment may
prove a great menace to the peace of nations. For years the popular
consciousness, in the several nations, has been steadily absorbing
conceptions of rivalry of interest that have no meaning except to the
category of concessionary capital. Germany, Russia, England and France
have been brought to the belief that something very vital turns upon
the control of the Land of the Morning. Indeed the whole civilized
world has been seduced into accepting the view that something very
vital turns upon the control of the tropics. Yes, something very vital
for exploitative capital. Indirectly vital for the rest of society: for
from such delusions spring wars that sow the unwilling fields with the
shattered limbs of the best of our youth.