Vast as may be the claim of indemnity, it opens no question so
calculated to touch the sensibilities of France as the claim of
guaranty already announced by Germany. On this head we are not
left to conjecture. From her first victory we have been assured
that Germany would claim Alsace and German Lorraine, with their
famous strongholds; and now we have the statement of Count
Bismarck, in a diplomatic circular, that he expects to remove the
German frontier further west,--meaning to the Vosges Mountains, if
not to the Moselle also,--and to convert the fortresses into what
he calls "defensive strongholds of Germany."[Footnote: Circular of
September 16,1870,--ubi supra, p. 49, Note 1.] Then, with larger
view, he declares, that, "in rendering it more difficult for
France, from whom all European troubles have so long proceeded, to
assume the offensive, we likewise promote the common interest of
Europe, which demands the preservation of peace." Here is just
recognition of peace as the common interest of Europe, to be
assured by disabling France. How shall this be done? The German
Minister sees nothing but dismemberment, consecrated by a Treaty
of Peace. With diplomatic shears he would cut off a portion of
French territory, and, taking from it the name of France, stamp
upon it the trade-mark of Germany. Two of its richest and most
precious provinces, for some two hundred years constituent parts
of the great nation, with that ancient cathedral city, the pride
of the Rhine, long years ago fortified by Vauban as "the strongest
barrier of France," [Footnote: Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV., Ch.
XIV: OEuvres, (edit. 1784-89,) Tom. XX. p. 403.] are to be
severed, and with them a large and industrious population, which,
while preserving the German language, have so far blended with
France as to become Frenchmen. This is the German proposition,
which I call the Guaranty of Dismemberment.
One argument for this proposition is brushed aside easily. Had the
fortune of war been adverse to Germany, it is said, peace would
have been dictated at Berlin, perhaps at Koenigsberg, and France
would have carried her frontier eastward to the Rhine, dismembering
Germany. Such, I doubt not, would have been the attempt. The
conception is entirely worthy of that Imperial levity with
which the war began. But the madcap menace of the French
Empire cannot be the measure of German justice. It is for Germany
to show, that, notwithstanding this wildness, she knows how to be
just. Dismemberment on this account would be only another form of
retaliation; but retaliation is barbarous.
To the argument, that these provinces, with their strongholds, are
needed for the defence of Germany, there is the obvious reply,
that, if cut off from France contrary to the wishes of the local
population, and with the French people in chronic irritation on
this account, they will be places of weakness rather than
strength, strongholds of disaffection rather than defence, to be
held always at the cannon's mouth. Does Germany seek lasting
peace? Not in this way can it be had. A painful exaction, enforced
by triumphant arms, must create a sentiment of hostility in
France, suppressed for a season, but ready at a propitious moment
to break forth in violence; so that between the two conterminous
nations there will be nothing better than a peace where each
sleeps on its arms,--which is but an Armed Peace. Such for weary
years has been the condition of nations. Is Germany determined to
prolong the awful curse? Will her most enlightened people, with
poetry, music, literature, philosophy, science, and religion as
constant ministers, to whom has been opened in rarest degree the
whole book of knowledge, persevere in a brutal policy belonging to
another age, and utterly alien to that superior civilization which
is so truly theirs?
There is another consideration, not only of justice, but of public
law, which cannot be overcome. The people of these provinces are
unwilling to be separated from France. This is enough. France
cannot sell or transfer them against their consent. Consult the
great masters, and you will find their concurring authority.
Grotius, from whom on such a question there can be no appeal,
adjudges: "In the alienation of a part of the sovereignty it is
required _that the part which is to be alienated consent to the
act._" According to him, it must not be supposed "that the body
should have the right of cutting off parts from itself and giving
them into the authority of another."[Footnote: De Jure Belli et
Pads, tr. Whewell, Lib. II. Cap. 6, S: 4] Of the same opinion is
Pufendorf, declaring: "The sovereign who attempts to transfer his
kingdom to another by his sole authority does an act in itself
null and void, and not binding on his subjects. To make such a
conveyance valid, the consent of the people is required, as well
as of the prince." [Footnote: De Jure Naturae et Gentium, Lib.
VIII. Cap. 5, Section 9.] Vattel crowns this testimony, when he
adds, that a province or city, "abandoned and dismembered from the
State, is not obliged to receive the new master proposed to be
given it." [Footnote: Le Droit des Gens, Liv. I. Ch. 21, Section
264.] Before such texts, stronger than a fortress, the soldiers of
Germany must halt.
Nor can it be forgotten how inconsistent is the guaranty of
Dismemberment with that heroic passion for national unity which is
the glory of Germany. National unity is not less the right of
France than of Germany; and these provinces, though in former
centuries German, and still preserving the German speech, belong
to the existing unity of France,--unless, according to the popular
song, the German's Fatherland extends
"Far as the German accent rings";
and then the conqueror must insist on Switzerland; and why not
cross the Atlantic, to dictate laws in Pennsylvania and Chicago?
But this same song has a better verse, calling that the German's
Fatherland
"Where in the heart love warmly lies."
But in these coveted provinces it is the love for France, and not
for Germany, which prevails.