Perhaps the most famous of Roosevelt's epigrammatic sayings is,
"Speak softly and carry a big stick." The public, with its instinctive
preference for the dramatic over the significant, promptly seized upon
the "big stick" half of the aphorism and ignored the other half. But
a study of the various acts of Roosevelt when he was President readily
shows that in his mind the "big stick" was purely subordinate. It was
merely the ultima ratio, the possession of which would enable a nation
to "speak softly" and walk safely along the road of peace and justice
and fair play.
The secret of Roosevelt's success in foreign affairs is to be found in
another of his favorite sayings: "Nine-tenths of wisdom is to be wise in
time." He has himself declared that his whole foreign policy "was
based on the exercise of intelligent foresight and of decisive action
sufficiently far in advance of any likely crisis to make it improbable
that we would run into serious trouble."
When Roosevelt became President, a perplexing controversy with Great
Britain over the boundary line between Alaska and Canada was in full
swing. The problem, which had become acute with the discovery of gold in
the Klondike in 1897, had already been considered, together with eleven
other subjects of dispute between Canada and the United States, by a
Joint Commission which had been able to reach no agreement. The essence
of the controversy was this: The treaty of 1825 between Great Britain
and Russia had declared that the boundary, dividing British and Russian
America on that five-hundred-mile strip of land which depends from the
Alaskan elephant's head like a dangling halter rope, should be drawn
"parallel to the windings of the coast" at a distance inland of thirty
miles. The United States took the plain and literal interpretation of
these words in the treaty. The Canadian contention was that within the
meaning of the treaty the fiords or inlets which here break into the
land were not part of the sea, and that the line, instead of following,
at the correct distance inland, the indentations made by these arms of
the sea, should leap boldly across them, at the agreed distance from
the points of the headlands. This would give Canada the heads of several
great inlets and direct access to the sea far north of the point where
the Canadian coast had always been assumed to end. Canada and the
United States were equally resolute in upholding their claims. It looked
as if the matter would end in a deadlock.
John Hay, who had been Secretary of State in McKinley's Cabinet, as
he now was in Roosevelt's, had done his best to bring the matter to a
settlement, but had been unwilling to have the dispute arbitrated, for
the very good reason that, as he said, "although our claim is as clear
as the sun in heaven, we know enough of arbitration to foresee the fatal
tendency of all arbitrators to compromise." Roosevelt believed that the
"claim of the Canadians for access to deep water along any part of the
Alaskan coast is just exactly as indefensible as if they should now
claim the island of Nantucket." He was willing, however, to refer the
question unconfused by other issues to a second Joint Commission of six.
The commission was duly constituted. There was no odd neutral member of
this body, as in an arbitration, but merely three representatives from
each side. Of the British representatives two were Canadians and the
third was the Lord Chief Justice of England, Lord Alverstone.
But before the Commission met, the President took pains to have conveyed
to the British Cabinet, in an informal but diplomatically correct way,
his views and his intentions in the event of a disagreement. "I wish to
make one last effort," he said, "to bring about an agreement through the
Commission which will enable the people of both countries to say
that the result represents the feeling of the representatives of
both countries. But if there is a disagreement, I wish it distinctly
understood, not only that there will be no arbitration of the matter,
but that in my message to Congress I shall take a position which will
prevent any possibility of arbitration hereafter." If this should seem
to any one too vigorous flourishing of the "big stick," let him remember
that it was all done through confidential diplomatic channels, and
that the judgment of the Lord Chief Justice of England, when the final
decision was made, fully upheld Roosevelt's position.
The decision of the Commission was, with slight immaterial
modifications, in favor of the United States. Lord Alverstone voted
against his Canadian colleagues. It was a just decision, as most
well-informed Canadians knew at the time. The troublesome question was
settled; the time-honored friendship of two great peoples had suffered
no interruption; and Roosevelt had secured for his country its just
due, without public parade or bluster, by merely being wise--and
inflexible--in time.
During the same early period of his Presidency, Roosevelt found himself
confronted with a situation in South America, which threatened a serious
violation of the Monroe Doctrine. Venezuela was repudiating certain
debts which the Venezuelan Government had guaranteed to European
capitalists. German capital was chiefly involved, and Germany proposed
to collect the debts by force. Great Britain and Italy were also
concerned in the matter, but Germany was the ringleader and the active
partner in the undertaking. Throughout the year 1902 a pacific blockade
of the Venezuelan coast was maintained and in December of that year an
ultimatum demanding the immediate payment of the debts was presented.
When its terms were not complied with, diplomatic relations were broken
off and the Venezuelan fleet was seized. At this point the United States
entered upon the scene, but with no blare of trumpets.
In fact, what really happened was not generally known until several
years later.
In his message of December, 1901, President Roosevelt had made two
significant statements. Speaking of the Monroe Doctrine, he said, "We do
not guarantee any state against punishment, if it misconducts itself."
This was very satisfactory to Germany. But he added--"provided the
punishment does not take the form of the acquisition of territory by any
non-American power." This did not suit the German book so well. For a
year the matter was discussed. Germany disclaimed any intention to make
"permanent" acquisitions in Venezuela but contended for its right
to make "temporary" ones. Now the world had already seen "temporary"
acquisitions made in China, and it was a matter of common knowledge that
this convenient word was often to be interpreted in a Pickwickian sense.
When the "pacific blockade" passed into the stage of active hostilities,
the patience of Roosevelt snapped. The German Ambassador, von Holleben,
was summoned to the White House. The President proposed to him that
Germany should arbitrate its differences with Venezuela. Von Holleben
assured him that his "Imperial Master" would not hear of such a course.
The President persisted that there must be no taking possession, even
temporarily, of Venezuelan territory. He informed the Ambassador that
Admiral Dewey was at that moment maneuvering in Caribbean waters, and
that if satisfactory assurances did not come from Berlin in ten days,
he would be ordered to proceed to Venezuela to see that no territory was
seized by German forces. The Ambassador was firm in his conviction that
no assurances would be forthcoming.
A week later Von Holleben appeared at the White House to talk of
another matter and was about to leave without mentioning Venezuela. The
President stopped him with a question. No, said the Ambassador, no
word had come from Berlin. Then, Roosevelt explained, it would not
be necessary for him to wait the remaining three days. Dewey would be
instructed to sail a day earlier than originally planned. He added that
not a word of all this had been put upon paper, and that if the German
Emperor would consent to arbitrate, the President would praise him
publicly for his broadmindedness. The Ambassador was still convinced
that no arbitration was conceivable.
But just twelve hours later he appeared at the White House, his face
wreathed in smiles. On behalf of his Imperial Master he had the honor to
request the President of the United States to act as arbitrator
between Germany and Venezuela. The orders to Dewey were never sent,
the President publicly congratulated the Kaiser on his loyalty to the
principle of arbitration, and, at Roosevelt's suggestion, the case went
to The Hague. Not an intimation of the real occurrences came out till
long after, not a public word or act marred the perfect friendliness of
the two nations. The Monroe Doctrine was just as unequivocally invoked
and just as inflexibly upheld as it had been by Grover Cleveland eight
years before in another Venezuelan case. But the quiet private warning
had been substituted for the loud public threat.
The question of the admission of Japanese immigrants to the United
States and of their treatment had long disturbed American international
relations. It became acute in the latter part of 1906, when the city of
San Francisco determined to exclude all Japanese pupils from the public
schools and to segregate them in a school of their own. This action
seemed to the Japanese a manifest violation of the rights guaranteed by
treaty. Diplomatic protests were instantly forthcoming at Washington;
and popular demonstrations against the United States boiled up in
Tokyo. For the third time there appeared splendid material for a serious
conflict with a great power which might conceivably lead to active
hostilities. From such beginnings wars have come before now.
The President was convinced that the Californians were utterly wrong
in what they had done, but perfectly right in the underlying conviction
from which their action sprang. He saw that justice and good faith
demanded that the Japanese in California be protected in their treaty
rights, and that the Californians be protected from the immigration of
Japanese laborers in mass. With characteristic promptness and vigor
he set forth these two considerations and took action to make them
effective. In his message to Congress in December he declared: "In the
matter now before me, affecting the Japanese, everything that is in my
power to do will be done and all of the forces, military and civil, of
the United States which I may lawfully employ will be so employed ... to
enforce the rights of aliens under treaties." Here was reassurance for
the Japanese. But he also added: "The Japanese would themselves not
tolerate the intrusion into their country of a mass of Americans who
would displace Japanese in the business of the land. The people of
California are right in insisting that the Japanese shall not come
thither in mass." Here was reassurance for the Californians.
The words were promptly followed by acts. The garrison of Federal
troops at San Francisco was reinforced and public notice was given that
violence against Japanese would be put down. Suits were brought both in
the California State courts and in the Federal courts there to uphold
the treaty rights of Japan. Mr. Victor H. Metcalf, the Secretary of
Commerce and Labor, himself a Californian, was sent to San Francisco to
make a study of the whole situation. It was made abundantly clear to the
people of San Francisco and the Coast that the provision of the Federal
Constitution making treaties a part of the supreme law of the land,
with which the Constitution and laws of no State can interfere, would
be strictly enforced. The report of Secretary Metcalf showed that the
school authorities of San Francisco had done not only an illegal thing
but an unnecessary and a stupid thing.
Meanwhile Roosevelt had been working with equal vigor upon the other
side of the problem. He esteemed it precisely as important to protect
the Californians from the Japanese as to protect the Japanese from
the Californians. As in the Alaskan and Venezuelan cases, he proceeded
without beat of drum or clash of cymbal. The matter was worked out in
unobtrusive conferences between the President and the State Department
and the Japanese representatives in Washington. It was all friendly,
informal, conciliatory--but the Japanese did not fail to recognize the
inflexible determination behind this courteous friendliness. Out of
these conferences came an informal agreement on the part of the Japanese
Government that no passports would be issued to Japanese workingmen
permitting them to leave Japan for ports of the United States. It was
further only necessary to prevent Japanese coolies from coming into
the United States through Canada and Mexico. This was done by executive
order just two days after the school authorities of San Francisco had
rescinded their discriminatory school decree.
The incident is eminently typical of Roosevelt's principles and
practice: to accord full measure of justice while demanding full measure
in return; to be content with the fact without care for the formality;
to see quickly, to look far, and to act boldly.
It had a sequel which rounded out the story. The President's ready
willingness to compel California to do justice to the Japanese was
misinterpreted in Japan as timidity. Certain chauvinistic elements in
Japan began to have thoughts which were in danger of becoming inimical
to the best interests of the United States. It seemed to President
Roosevelt an opportune moment, for many reasons, to send the American
battle fleet on a voyage around the world. The project was frowned on
in this country and viewed with doubt in other parts of the world. Many
said the thing could not be done, for no navy in the world had yet done
it; but Roosevelt knew that it could. European observers believed
that it would lead to war with Japan; but Roosevelt's conviction was
precisely the opposite. In his own words, "I did not expect it;... I
believed that Japan would feel as friendly in the matter as we did;
but... if my expectations had proved mistaken, it would have been proof
positive that we were going to be attacked anyhow, and... in such
event it would have been an enormous gain to have had the three months'
preliminary preparation which enabled the fleet to start perfectly
equipped. In a personal interview before they left, I had explained
to the officers in command that I believed the trip would be one of
absolute peace, but that they were to take exactly the same precautions
against sudden attack of any kind as if we were at war with all the
nations of the earth; and that no excuse of any kind would be accepted
if there were a sudden attack of any kind and we were taken unawares."
Prominent inhabitants and newspapers of the Atlantic coast were deeply
concerned over the taking away of the fleet from the Atlantic to the
Pacific. The head of the Senate Committee on Naval Affairs, who hailed
from the State of Maine, declared that the fleet should not and could
not go because Congress would refuse to appropriate the money; Roosevelt
announced in response that he had enough money to take the fleet
around into the Pacific anyhow, that it would certainly go, and that if
Congress did not choose to appropriate enough money to bring the fleet
back, it could stay there. There was no further difficulty about the
money.
The voyage was at once a hard training trip and a triumphant progress.
Everywhere the ships, their officers, and their men were received with
hearty cordiality and deep admiration, and nowhere more so than in
Japan. The nations of the world were profoundly impressed by the
achievement. The people of the United States were thoroughly aroused
to a new pride in their navy and an interest in its adequacy and
efficiency. It was definitely established in the minds of Americans and
foreigners that the United States navy is rightfully as much at home in
the Pacific as in the Atlantic. Any cloud the size of a man's hand that
may have been gathering above the Japanese horizon was forthwith swept
away. Roosevelt's plan was a novel and bold use of the instruments of
war on behalf of peace which was positively justified in the event.