through the prism of gossip, the figures cut by the delegates of the
Great Powers were pathetic. Giants in the parliamentary sphere, they
shrank to the dimensions of dwarfs in the international. In matters of
geography, ethnography, history, and international politics they were
helplessly at sea, and the stories told of certain of their efforts to
keep their heads above water while maintaining a simulacrum of dignity
would have been amusing were the issues less momentous. "Is it after
Upper or Lower Silesia that those greedy Poles are hankering?" one
Premier is credibly reported to have asked some months after the Polish
delegation had propounded and defended its claims and he had had time to
familiarize himself with them. "Please point out to me Dalmatia on the
map," was another characteristic request, "and tell me what connection
there is between it and Fiume." One of the principal plenipotentiaries
addressed a delegate who is an acquaintance of mine approximately as
follows: "I cannot understand the spokesmen of the smaller states. To me
they seem stark mad. They single out a strip of territory and for no
intelligible reason flock round it like birds of prey round a corpse on
the field of battle. Take Silesia, for example. The Poles are clamoring
for it as if the very existence of their country depended on their
annexing it. The Germans are still more crazy about it. But for their
eagerness I suppose there is some solid foundation. But how in Heaven's
name do the Armenians come to claim it? Just think of it, the Armenians!
The world has gone mad. No wonder France has set her foot down and
warned them off the ground. But what does France herself want with it?
What is the clue to the mystery?" My acquaintance, in reply, pointed out
as considerately as he could that Silesia was the province for which
Poles and Germans were contending, whereas the Armenians were pleading
for Cilicia, which is farther east, and were, therefore, frowned upon by
the French, who conceive that they have a civilizing mission there and
men enough to accomplish it.
It is characteristic of the epoch, and therefore worthy of the
historian's attention, that not only the members of the Conference, but
also other leading statesmen of Anglo-Saxon countries, were wont to make
a very little knowledge of peoples and countries go quite a far way. Two
examples may serve to familiarize the reader with the phenomenon and to
moderate his surprise at the defects of the world-dictators in Paris.
One English-speaking statesman, dealing with the Italian government[61]
and casting around for some effective way of helping the Italian people
out of their pitiable economic plight, fancied he hit upon a felicitous
expedient, which he unfolded as follows. "I venture," he said, "to
promise that if you will largely increase your cultivation of bananas
the people of my country will take them all. No matter how great the
quantities, our market will absorb them, and that will surely make a
considerable addition to your balance on the right side." At first the
Italians believed he was joking. But finding that he really meant what
he said, they ruthlessly revealed his idea to the nation under the
heading, "Italian bananas!"
Here is the other instance. During the war the Polish people was
undergoing unprecedented hardships. Many of the poorer classes were
literally perishing of hunger. A Polish commission was sent to an
English-speaking country to interest the government and people in the
condition of the sufferers and obtain relief. The envoys had an
interview with a Secretary of State, who inquired to what port they
intended to have the foodstuffs conveyed for distribution in the
interior of Poland. They answered: "We shall have them taken to Dantzig.
There is no other way." The statesman reflected a little and then said:
"You may meet with difficulties. If you have them shipped to Dantzig you
must of course first obtain Italy's permission. Have you got it?" "No.
We had not thought of that. In fact, we don't yet see why Italy need be
approached." "Because it is Italy who has command of the Mediterranean,
and if you want the transport taken to Dantzig it is the Italian
government that you must ask!"[62]
The delegates picked up a good deal of miscellaneous information about
the various countries whose future they were regulating, and to their
credit it should be said that they put questions to their informants
without a trace of false pride. One of the two chief delegates wending
homeward from a sitting at which M. Jules Cambon had spoken a good deal
about those Polish districts which, although they contained a majority
of Germans, yet belonged of right to Poland, asked the French delegate
why he had made so many allusions to Frederick the Great. "What had
Frederick to do with Poland?" he inquired. The answer was that the
present German majority of the inhabitants was made up of colonists who
had immigrated into the districts since the time of Frederick the Great
and the partition of Poland. "Yes, I see," exclaimed the statesman, "but
what had Frederick the Great to do with the partition of Poland?" ... In
the domain of ethnography there were also many pitfalls and accidents.
During an official _exposé_ of the Oriental situation before the Supreme
Council, one of the Great Four, listening to a narrative of Turkish
misdeeds, heard that the Kurds had tortured and killed a number of
defenseless women, children, and old men. He at once interrupted the
speaker with the query: "You now call them Kurds. A few minutes ago you
said they were Turks. I take it that the Kurds and the Turks are the
same people?" Loath to embarrass one of the world's arbiters, the
delegate respectfully replied, "Yes, sir, they are about the same, but
the worse of the two are the Kurds."[63]
Great Britain's first delegate, with engaging candor sought to disarm
criticism by frankly confessing in the House of Commons that he had
never before heard of Teschen, about which such an extraordinary fuss
was then being made, and by asking: "How many members of the House have
ever heard of Teschen? Yet," he added significantly, "Teschen very
nearly produced an angry conflict between two allied states."[64]
The circumstance that an eminent parliamentarian had never heard of
problems that agitate continental peoples is excusable. Less so was his
resolve, despite such a capital disqualification, to undertake the task
of solving those problems single-handed, although conscious that the
fate of whole peoples depended on his succeeding. It is no adequate
justification to say that he could always fall back upon special
commissions, of which there was no lack at the Conference. Unless he
possessed a safe criterion by which to assess the value of the
commissions' conclusions, he must needs himself decide the matter
arbitrarily. And the delegates, having no such criterion, pronounced
very arbitrary judgments on momentous issues. One instance of this
turned upon Poland's claims to certain territories incorporated in
Germany, which were referred to a special commission under the
presidency of M. Cambon. Commissioners were sent to the country to study
the matter on the spot, where they had received every facility for
acquainting themselves with it. After some weeks the commission reported
in favor of the Polish claim with unanimity. But Mr. Lloyd George
rejected their conclusions and insisted on having the report sent back
to them for reconsideration. Again the commissioners went over the
familiar ground, but felt obliged to repeat their verdict anew. Once
more, however, the British Premier demurred, and such was his tenacity
that, despite Mr. Wilson's opposition, the final decision of the
Conference reversed that of the commission and non-suited the Poles. By
what line of argument, people naturally asked, did the first British
delegate come to that conclusion? That he knew more about the matter
than the special Inter-Allied commission is hardly to be supposed.
Indeed, nobody assumed that he was any better informed on that subject
than about Teschen. The explanation put in circulation by interested
persons was that, like Socrates, he had his own familiar demon to prompt
him, who, like all such spirits, chose to flourish, like the violet, in
the shade. That this source of light was accessible to the Prime
Minister may, his apologists hold, one day prove a boon to the peoples
whose fate was thus being spun in darkness and seemingly at haphazard.
Possibly. But in the meanwhile it was construed as an affront to their
intelligence and a violation of the promise made to them of "open
covenants openly arrived at." The press asked why the information
requisite for the work had not been acquired in advance as these
semi-mystical ways of obtaining it commended themselves to nobody.
Wholly mystical were the methods attributed to one or other of the men
who were preparing the advent of the new era. For superstition of
various kinds was supposed to be as well represented at the Paris
Conference as at the Congress of Vienna. Characteristic of the epoch was
the gravity with which individuals otherwise well balanced exercised
their ingenuity in finding out the true relation of the world's peace to
certain lucky numbers. For several events connected with the Conference
the thirteenth day of the month was deliberately, and some occultists
added felicitously, chosen. It was also noticed that an effort was made
by all the delegates to have the Allies' reply to the German
counter-proposals presented on the day of destiny, Friday, June 13th.
When it miscarried a flutter was caused in the dovecotes of the
illuminated. The failure was construed as an inauspicious omen and it
caused the spirits of many to droop. The principal clairvoyante of
Paris, Madame N----, who plumes herself on being the intermediary
between the Fates that rule and some of their earthly executors, was
consulted on the subject, one knows not with what result.[65] It was
given out, however, as the solemn utterance of the oracle in vogue that
Mr. Wilson's enterprise was weighted with original sin; he had made one
false step before his arrival in Europe, and that had put everything out
of gear. By enacting fourteen commandments he had countered the magic
charm of his lucky thirteen. One of the fourteen, it was soothsaid, must
therefore be omitted--it might be, say, that of open covenants openly
arrived at, or the freedom of the seas--in a word, any one so long as
the mystic number thirteen remained intact. But should that be
impossible, seeing that the Fourteen Points had already become
house-hold words to all nations and peoples, then it behooved the
President to number the last of his saving points 13a.[66]
This odd mixture of the real and the fanciful--a symptom, as the
initiated believed, of a mood of fine spiritual exaltation--met with
little sympathy among the impatient masses whose struggle for bare life
was growing ever fiercer. Stagnation held the business world, prices
were rising to prohibitive heights, partly because of the dawdling of
the world's conclave; hunger was stalking about the ruined villages of
the northern departments of France, destructive wars were being waged in
eastern Europe, and thousands of Christians were dying of hunger in
Bessarabia.[67] Epigrammatic strictures and winged words barbed with
stinging satire indicated the feelings of the many. And the fact remains
on record that streaks of the mysticism that buoyed up Alexander I at
the Congress of Vienna, and is supposed to have stimulated Nicholas II
during the first world-parliament at The Hague, were noticeable from
time to time in the environment of the Paris Conference. The disclosure
of these elements of superstition was distinctly harmful and might have
been hindered easily by the system of secrecy and censorship which
effectively concealed matters much less mischievous.
The position of the plenipotentiaries was unenviable at best and they
well deserve the benefit of extenuating circumstances. For not even a
genius can efficiently tackle problems with the elements of which he
lacks acquaintanceship, and the mass of facts which they had to deal
with was sheer unmanageable. It was distressing to watch them during
those eventful months groping and floundering through a labyrinth of
obstacles with no Ariadne clue to guide their tortuous course, and
discovering that their task was more intricate than they had imagined.
The ironic domination of temper and circumstance over the fitful
exertions of men struggling with the partially realized difficulties of
a false position led to many incongruities upon which it would be
ungracious to dwell. One of them, however, which illustrates the
situation, seems almost incredible. It is said to have occurred in
January. According to the current narrative, soon after the arrival of
President Wilson in Paris, he received from a French publicist named
M.B. a long and interesting memorandum about the island of Corsica,
recounting the history, needs, and aspirations of the population as well
as the various attempts they had made to regain their independence, and
requesting him to employ his good offices at the Conference to obtain
for them complete autonomy. To this demand M.B. is said to have received
a reply[68] to the effect that the President "is persuaded that this
question will form the subject of a thorough examination by the
competent authorities of the Conference" Corsica, the birthplace of
Napoleon, and as much an integral part of France as the Isle of Man is
of England, seeking to slacken the ties that link it to the Republic and
receiving a promise that the matter would be carefully considered by the
delegates sounds more like a mystification than a sober statement of
fact. The story was sent to the newspapers for publication, but the
censor very wisely struck it out.
These and kindred occurrences enable one better to appreciate the
motives which prompted the delegates to shroud their conversations and
tentative decisions in a decorous veil of secrecy.
It is but fair to say that the enterprise to which they set their hands
was the vastest that ever tempted lofty ambitions since the
tower-builders of Babel strove to bring heaven within reach of the
earth. It transcended the capacity of the contemporary world's greatest
men.[69] It was a labor for a wonder-worker in the pristine days of
heroes. But although to solve even the main problems without residue was
beyond the reach of the most genial representatives of latter-day
statecraft, it needed only clearness of conception, steadiness of
purpose, and the proper adjustment of means to ends, to begin the work
on the right lines and give it an impulse that might perhaps carry it to
completion in the fullness of time.
But even these postulates were wanting. The eminent parliamentarians
failed to rise to the gentle height of average statecraft. They appeared
in their new and august character of world-reformers with all the roots
still clinging to them of the rank electoral soil from which they
sprang. Their words alone were redolent of idealism, their deeds were
too often marred by pettifogging compromises or childish
blunders--constructive phrases and destructive acts. Not only had they
no settled method of working, they lacked even a common proximate aim.
For although they all employed the same phraseology when describing the
objects for which their countries had fought and they themselves were
ostensibly laboring, no two delegates attached the same ideas to the
words they used. Yet, instead of candidly avowing this root-defect and
remedying it, they were content to stretch the euphemistic terms until
these covered conflicting conceptions and gratified the ears of every
hearer. Thus, "open covenants openly arrived at" came to mean arbitrary
ukases issued by a secret conclave, and "the self-determination of
peoples" connoted implicit obedience to dictatorial decrees. The new
result was a bewildering phantasmagoria.
And yet it was professedly for the purpose of obviating such
misunderstandings that Mr. Wilson had crossed the Atlantic. Having
expressed in plain terms the ideals for which American soldiers had
fought, and which became the substance of the thoughts and purposes of
the associated statesmen, "I owe it to them," he had said, "to see to
it, in so far as in me lies, that no false or mistaken interpretation is
put upon them and no possible effort omitted to realize them." And that
was the result achieved.
No such juggling with words as went on at the Conference had been
witnessed since the days of medieval casuistry. New meanings were
infused into old terms, rendering the help of "exegesis" indispensable.
Expressions like "territorial equilibrium" and "strategic frontiers"
were stringently banished, and it is affirmed that President Wilson
would wince and his expression change at the bare mention of these
obnoxious symbols of the effete ordering which it was part of his
mission to do away with forever. And yet the things signified by those
words were preserved withal under other names. Nor could it well be
otherwise. One can hardly conceive a durable state system in Europe
under the new any more than the old dispensation without something that
corresponds to equilibrium. An architect who should boastingly discard
the law of gravitation in favor of a different theory would stand little
chance of being intrusted with the construction of a palace of peace.
Similarly, a statesman who, while proclaiming that the era of wars is
not yet over, would deprive of strategic frontiers the pivotal states of
Europe which are most exposed to sudden attack would deserve to find few
disciples and fewer clients. Yet that was what Mr. Wilson aimed at and
what some of his friends affirm he has achieved. His foreign colleagues
re-echoed his dogmas after having emasculated them. It was instructive
and unedifying to watch how each of the delegates, when his own
country's turn came to be dealt with on the new lines, reversed his
tactics and, sacrificing sound to substance, insisted on safeguards,
relied on historic rights, invoked economic requirements, and appealed
to common sense, but all the while loyally abjured "territorial
equilibrium" and "strategic guarantees." Hence the fierce struggles
which MM. Orlando, Dmowski, Bratiano, Venizelos, and Makino had to carry
on with the chief of that state which is the least interested in
European affairs in order to obtain all or part of the territories which
they considered indispensable to the security and well-being of their
respective countries.
At the outset Mr. Wilson stood for an ideal Europe of a wholly new and
undefined type, which would have done away with the need for strategic
frontiers. Its contours were vague, for he had no clear mental picture
of the concrete Europe out of which it was to be fashioned. He spoke,
indeed, and would fain have acted, as though the old Continent were like
a thinly inhabited territory of North America fifty years ago,
unencumbered by awkward survivals of the past and capable of receiving
any impress. He seemingly took no account of its history, its peoples,
or their interests and strivings. History shared the fate of Kolchak's
government and the Ukraine; it was not recognized by the delegates. What
he brought to Europe from America was an abstract idea, old and
European, and at first his foreign colleagues treated it as such. Some
of them had actually sneered at it, others had damned it with faint
praise, and now all of them honestly strove to save their own countries'
vital interests from its disruptive action while helping to apply it to
their neighbors. Thus Britain, who at that time had no territorial
claims to put forward, had her sea-doctrine to uphold, and she upheld it
resolutely. Before he reached Europe the President was notified in plain
terms that his theory of the freedom of the seas would neither be
entertained nor discussed. Accordingly, he abandoned it without
protest. It was then explained away as a journalistic misconception.
That was the first toll paid by the American reformer in Europe, and it
spelled failure to his entire scheme, which was one and indivisible. It
fell to my lot to record the payment of the tribute and the abandonment
of that first of the fourteen commandments. The mystic thirteen
remained. But soon afterward another went by the board. Then there were
twelve. And gradually the number dwindled.
This recognition of hard realities was a bitter disappointment to all
the friends of the spiritual and social renovation of the world. It was
a spectacle for cynics. It rendered a frank return to the ancient system
unavoidable and brought grist to the mill of the equilibrists. And yet
the conclusion was shriked. But even the tough realities might have been
made to yield a tolerable peace if they had been faced squarely. If the
new conception could not be realized at once, the old one should have
been taken back into favor provisionally until broader foundations could
be laid, but it must be one thing or the other. From the political angle
of vision at which the European delegates insisted on placing
themselves, the Old World way of tackling the various problems was alone
admissible. Their program was coherent and their reasoning strictly
logical. The former included strategic frontiers and territorial
equilibrium. Doubtless this angle of vision was narrow, the survey it
allowed was inadequate, and the results attainable ran the risk of being
ultimately thrust aside by the indignant peoples. For the world problem
was not wholly nor even mainly political. Still, the method was
intelligible and the ensuing combinations would have hung coherently
together. They would have satisfied all those--and they were many--who
believed that the second decade of the twentieth century differs in no
essential respect from the first and that latter-day world problems may
be solved by judicious territorial redistribution. But even that
conception was not consistently acted on. Deviations were permitted here
and insisted upon there, only they were spoken of unctuously as
sacrifices incumbent on the lesser states to the Fourteen Points. For
the delegates set great store by their reputation for logic and
coherency. Whatever other charges against the Conference might be
tolerated, that of inconsistency was bitterly resented, especially by
Mr. Wilson. For a long while he contended that he was as true to his
Fourteen Points as is the needle to the pole. It was not until after his
return to Washington, in the summer, that he admitted the perturbations
caused by magnetic currents--sympathy for France he termed them.
The effort of imagination required to discern consistency in such of the
Council's decisions as became known from time to time was so far beyond
the capacity of average outsiders that the ugly phrase "to make the
world safe for hypocrisy" was early coined, uttered, and propagated.
FOOTNOTES:
[46] Cf. _Le Temps_, May 23, 1919. It is an adaptation of the
inscription over the Pantheon, "Aux grands hommes, la Patrie
reconnaissante."
[47] _The Daily Mail_, April 25, 1919 (Paris edition).
[48] In Germany.
[49] General Pétain is said to have rejected the suggestion.
[50] Cf. _Bulletin des Droits de l'Homme_, 19ème année, p. 461.
[51] It was either Friday, the 4th, or Saturday, the 5th of July.
[52] At the end of August, 1919.
[53] One delegate from a poor and friendless country had to take the
maps of a rival state and retouch them in accordance with the
ethnographical data, which he considered alone correct.
[54] _L'Homme Enchatné_, December 14, 1914.
[55] "With its causes and objects we have no concern." Speech delivered
by Mr. Wilson before the League to Enforce Peace in Washington on May
24, 1916.