Anglo-Saxon will, represented in her case mainly by Mr. Lloyd George,
not, however, without the somewhat tardy backing of his colleague from
Washington. It is important for the historian and the political student
to observe that as the British Premier was not credited with any
profound or original ideas about the severing or soldering of east
European territories, the authorship of the powerful and successful
opposition to the allotting of Dantzig to Poland was rightly or wrongly
ascribed not to him, but to what is euphemistically termed
"international finance" lurking in the background, whose interest in
Poland was obviously keen, and whose influence on the Supreme Council,
although less obvious, was believed to be far-reaching. The same
explanation was currently suggested for the fixed resolve of Mr. Lloyd
George not to assign Upper Silesia to Poland without a plebiscite. His
own account of the matter was that although the inhabitants were
Polish--they are as two to one compared with the Germans--it was
conceivable that they entertained leanings toward the Germans, and might
therefore desire to throw in their lot with these. When one compares
this scrupulous respect for the likes and dislikes of the inhabitants of
that province with the curt refusal of the same men at first to give ear
to the ardent desire of the Austrians to unite with the Germans, or to
abide by a plebiscite of the inhabitants of Fiume or Teschen, one is
bewildered. The British Premier's wish was opposed by the official body
of experts appointed to report on the matter. Its members had no
misgivings. The territory, they said, belonged of right to Poland, the
great majority of its population was unquestionably Polish, and the
practical conclusion was that it should be handed over to the Polish
government as soon as feasible. Thereupon the staff of the commission
was changed and new members were substituted for the old.[130] But that
was not enough. The British Premier still encountered such opposition
among his foreign colleagues that it was only by dint of wordy warfare
and stubbornness that he finally won his point.
The stipulation for which the first British delegate toiled thus
laboriously was that within a fortnight after the ratification of the
Treaty the German and Polish forces should evacuate the districts in
which the plebiscite was to be held, that the Workmen's Councils there
should be dissolved, and that the League of Nations should take over the
government of the district so as to allow the population to give full
expression to its will. But the League of Nations did not exist and
could not be constituted for a considerable time. It was therefore
decided[131] that some temporary substitute for the League should be
formed at once, and the Supreme Council decided that Inter-Allied troops
should occupy the districts. That was the first instalment of the price
to be paid for the British Premier's tenderness for plebiscites, which
the expert commissions deprecated as unnecessary, and which, as events
proved in this case, were harmful.
In the meanwhile Bolshevist--some said German--agents were stirring up
the population by suasion and by terrorism until it finally began to
ferment. Thousands of working-men responded to the goad, "turned down"
their tools and ceased work. Thereupon the coal-fields of Upper Silesia,
the production of which had already dropped by 50 per cent, since the
preceding November, ceased to produce anything. This consummation
grieved the Supreme Council, which turned for help to the Inter-Allied
armies. For the Silesian coal-fields represented about one-third of
Germany's production, and both France and Italy were looking to Germany
for part of their fuel-supply. The French press pertinently asked
whether it would not have been cheaper, safer, and more efficacious to
have forgone the plebiscite and relied on the Polish troops from the
outset.[132] For, however ideal the intentions of Mr. Lloyd George may
have been, the net result of his insistence on a plebiscite was to
enable an ex-newspaper vender named Hoersing, who had undertaken to
prevent the detachment of Upper Silesia from Germany, to set his
machinery for agitation in motion and cause general unrest in the
Silesian and Dombrova coal-mining districts. When the strike was
declared the workmen, who are Poles to a man, rejected all suggestions
that they should refer their grievances to arbitration courts. For these
tribunals were conducted by Germans. The consequence of Mr. Lloyd
George's spirited intervention was, in the words of an unbiased
observer, to "raise the specters of starvation, freezing and Bolshevism
in eastern Europe" during the ensuing winter--a heavy price to pay for
pedantic adherence to the letter of an irrelevant ordinance, at a moment
when the spirit of basic principles was being allowed to evaporate.
Rumania was chastened and qualified in severer fashion for admission to
the sodality of nations until her delegates quitted the Conference in
disgust, struck out their own policy, and courteously ignored the Great
Powers. Then the Supreme Council changed its note for the moment and
abandoned the position which it had taken up respecting the armistice
with Hungary, to revert to it shortly afterward.[133] The joy with which
the upshot of this revolt was hailed by all the lesser states was an
evil omen. For their antipathy toward the Supreme Council had long
before hardened into a sentiment much more intense, and any stick seemed
good enough to break the rod of the self-constituted governors of the
planet.
The concrete result of this tinkering and cobbling could only be a
ramshackle structure, built without any reference to the canons of
political architecture. It was shaped neither by the Fourteen Points nor
by the canons of the balance of power and territory. It was hardly more
than an abortive attempt to make a synthesis of the two. Created by
force, it could be perpetuated only by force; but if symptoms are to be
trusted, it is more likely to be broken up by force. As an American
press organ remarked in August: "The Council of Five complains that no
one now condescends to recognize the League of Nations. Even the small
nations are buying war material, quite oblivious of the fact that there
are to be no more wars, now that the League is there to prevent them.
Sweden is buying large supplies from Germany, and Spain is sending a
commission to Paris to negotiate for some of France's war
equipment."[134]
Belgium, too, was treated with scant consideration. The praise lavished
on her courageous people during the war was apparently deemed an
adequate recompense for the sacrifices she had made and the losses she
endured. For the revision of the treaties of 1839, indispensable to the
economic development of the country, no diplomatic preparation was made
down to May, and among the Treaty clauses then drafted Belgium's share
of justice was so slight and insufficient that the unbiased press
published sharp strictures on the forgetfulness or egotism of the
Supreme Council. "The little that has leaked out of the decisions taken
regarding the conditions which affect Belgium," wrote one journal, "has
caused not only bitter disappointment in Belgium, but also indignation
everywhere.... The Allies having decided not to accord moral
satisfaction to Belgium (they chose Geneva as the capital of the League
of Nations), it was perhaps to be expected that they would not accord
her material satisfaction. And such expectations are being fulfilled.
The Limburg province, annexed to Holland in 1839, the province which
gave the retreating enemy unlawful refuge in 1918, a rank violation of
Dutch neutrality, is apparently not to be restored to Belgium. Even the
right, vital to the safety and welfare of Belgium, the right of
unimpeded navigation of the Scheldt between Antwerp and the sea, has not
yet been conceded. And the raw material that is indispensable if Belgian
industry is to be revived is withheld; the Allies, however, are quite
willing to flood the country with manufactured articles."[135]
And yet Belgium's demands were extremely modest.[136] They were
formulated, not as the guerdon for her heroic defense of civilization,
but as a plain corollary flowing direct from each and every principle
officially recognized by the heads of the Conference--right,
nationality, legitimate guarantees, and economic requirements. Tested by
any or all of these accepted touchstones, everything asked for was
reasonable and fair in itself, and seemingly indispensable to the
durability of the new world-structure which the statesmen were
endeavoring to raise on the ruins of the old. Belgium's forlorn
political and territorial plight embodied all the worst vices of the old
balance of power stigmatized by President Wilson: the mutilation of the
country; the forcible separation of sections of its population from each
other; the distribution of these lopped, ethnic fragments among alien
states and dynasties; the control of her waterways handed over to
commercial rivals; the transformation of cities and districts that were
obviously destined to figure among her sources of national well-being
and centers of culture into dead towns that paralyze her effort and
hinder her progress. In a word, Belgium had had no political existence
for her own behoof. She was not an organic unit in the sodality of
nations, but a mere cog in the mechanism of European equilibrium.
Ruined by the war, Belgium was sorely tried by the Peace Conference. She
complained of two open wounds which poisoned her existence, stunted her
economic growth, and rendered her self-defense an impossibility: the
vast gap of Limburg on the east and the blocking of the Scheldt on the
west. The great national _réduit_, Antwerp, cut off from the sea,
inaccessible to succor in case of war, on the one side, and Limburg
opening to Germany's armies the road through central Belgium, on the
other--these were the two standing dangers which it was hoped would be
removed. How dangerous they are events had demonstrated. In October,
1914, Antwerp fell because Holland had closed the Scheldt and forbidden
the entrance to warships and transports, and in November, 1918, a German
army of over seventy thousand men eluded pursuit by the Allies by
passing through Dutch Limburg, carrying with them vast war materials and
booty. Militarily Belgium is exposed to mortal perils so long as the
treaties which ordained this preposterous division of territories are
maintained in vigor.
Economically, too, the consequences, especially of the status of the
Scheldt, are admittedly baleful. To Holland the river is practically
useless--indeed, the only advantage it could confer would be the power
of impeding the growth and prosperity of Antwerp for the benefit of its
rival, Rotterdam. All that the Belgians desired there was the complete
control of their national river, with the right of carrying out the
works necessary to keep it navigable. A like demand was put forward for
the canal of Terneuzen, which links the city of Ghent with the Scheldt;
and the suppression of the checks and hindrances to Belgium's free
communications with her hinterland--_i.e._, the basins of the Meuse and
the Rhine. Prom every point of view, including that of international
law, the claims made were at once modest and grounded. But the Supreme
Council had no time to devote to such subsidiary matters, and, like more
momentous issues, they were adjourned.
The Belgian delegation did not ask that Holland's territory should be
curtailed. On the contrary, they would have welcomed its increase by the
addition of territory inhabited by people of her own idiom, under
German sway.[137] But the Dutch demurred, as Denmark had done in the
matter of the third Schleswig zone, for fear of offending Germany. And
the Supreme Council acquiesced in the refusal. Again, when issues were
under discussion that turned upon the Rhine country and affected Belgian
interests, her delegates were never consulted. They were systematically
ignored by the Conference. When the capital of the League of Nations was
to be chosen, their hopes that Brussels would be deemed worthy of the
honor were blasted by President Wilson himself. One of the American
delegates informed a foreign colleague "that the capital of the League
must be situate in a tranquil country, must have a steady, settled
population and a really good climate." "A good climate?" asked a
continental statesman. "Then why not choose Monte Carlo?"
But the decision in favor of Geneva was sent by courier from Switzerland
ready made to President Wilson. The chief grounds which lent color to
the belief that religious bias played a larger part in the Conference's
decisions than was apparent were the following: It was from Geneva that
the spirit of religious and political liberty first went forth to be
incarnated among the various nations of the world. It is to John Calvin,
rather than to Martin Luther, that the birth of the Scotch Covenanters
and of English Puritanism is traceable. Hence Geneva is the parent of
New England. So, too, it was Rousseau--a true child of Calvin--who was
the author of America's Declaration of Independence. Again, one of the
first pacifists and advocates of international arbitration was born in
Geneva. John Knox sat for two years at the feet of Calvin. Consequently
the Puritan Revolution, the French Revolution, and the American
Revolution all had their springs in Geneva.
These were the considerations which weighed with President Wilson when
he refused to fix his choice on Brussels. In vain the Belgians argued
and pleaded, urging that if the Conference were to vote for London,
Washington, or Paris, they would receive the announcement with
respectful acquiescence, but that among the lesser states they conceived
that their country's claims were the best grounded. To the Americans who
objected that Switzerland's mountains and lakes, being free from hateful
war memories, offer more fitting surroundings for the capital of the
League of Peace than Brussels, where vestiges of the odious struggle
will long survive, they answered that they could only regret that
Belgium's resistance to the lawless invaders should be taken to
disqualify her for the honor.
It is worth while pursuing this matter a step farther. The Federal
Council in Berne having soon afterward officially recommended[138] the
nation to enter the League which guarantees it neutrality,[139] an
illuminating discussion ensued. And it was elicited that as there is an
obligation imposed on all member-states to execute the decrees of the
League for the coercion of rebellious fellow-members, it follows that in
such cases Switzerland, too, would be obliged to take an active part in
the struggle between the League and the recalcitrant country. From
military operations, however, Switzerland is dispensed, but it would
certainly be bound to adopt economic measures of pressure, and to this
extent abandon its neutrality. Now not only would that attitude be
construed by the disobedient nation as unfriendly, and the usual
consequences drawn from it, but as Switzerland is freed from military
co-operation, it follows that the League could not fix the headquarters
of its military command in its own capital, Geneva, as that would
constitute a violation of Swiss neutrality. And, if it did, Switzerland
would in self-defense be bound to oppose the decision!
The Belgians were discouraged by the disdainful demeanor and grudging
disposition of the Supreme Council, and irritated by the arbitrariness
of its decrees and the indefensible way in which it applied principles
that were propounded as sacred. Before restoring the diminutive cantons
of Eupen and Malmedy to Belgium, for example, Mr. Wilson insisted on
ascertaining the will of the population by plebiscite. In itself the
measure was reasonable, but the position of these little districts was
substantially on all-fours with Alsace-Lorraine, which was restored to
France without any such test. In Fiume, also, the will of the
inhabitants went for nothing, Mr. Wilson refusing to consult them.
Further, Austria, whose people were known to favor union with Germany,
was systematically jockeyed into ruinous isolation. "Now what, in the
light of these conflicting judgments," asked the Belgians, "is the true
meaning of the principle of self-determination?" The only reply they
received was that Mr. Wilson was right when he told his
fellow-countrymen that his principles stood in need of interpretation,
and that, as he was the sole authorized interpreter, his presence was
required in Europe.
In money matters, too, the chief plenipotentiaries can hardly be
acquitted of something akin to niggardliness toward the country which
had saved theirs from a catastrophe. Down to the month of May, 1921, two
and a half milliard francs was the maximum sum allotted to Belgium by
the Supreme Council. And for the work of restoring the devastated
country, which the Great Powers had spontaneously promised to
accomplish, it was alleged by experts to be wholly inadequate. Other
financial grievances were ignored--for a time. Further, it was decided
that Germany should surrender her African colonies to the Great Powers;
yet Belgium, who contributed materially to their conquest, was not to be
associated with them.
Irritated by this illiberality, the Belgian delegation, having consulted
with M. Renkin, to whose judgment in these matters special weight
attached, resolved to make a firm stand, and refused to sign the Treaty
unless at least certain modest financial, economic, and colonial claims,
which ought to have been settled spontaneously, were accorded under
pressure. And the Supreme Council, rather than be arraigned before the
world on the charge of behaving unjustly as well as ungenerously toward
Belgium, ultimately gave way, leaving, however, an impression behind
which seemed as indelible as it was profound....
The domination which is now being exercised by the principal Powers over
the remaining states of the world is fraught with consequences which
were not foreseen, and have not yet been realized by those who
established it. Among the least momentous, but none the less real, is
one to which Belgium is exposed. Hitherto there was a language problem
in that heroic country which, being an internal controversy, could be
settled without noteworthy perturbations by the good-will of the
Walloons and the Flemings. The danger, which one fervently hopes will be
warded off, consists in the possible transformation of that dispute into
an international question, in consequence of possible accords of a
military or economic nature. The subject is too delicate to be handled
by a foreigner, and the Belgian people are too practical and law-loving
not to avoid unwary steps that might turn a linguistic problem into a
racial issue.
The Supreme Council soon came to be looked upon as the prototype of the
future League, and in that light its action was sharply scrutinized by
all whom the League concerned. Foremost among these were the
representatives of the lesser states, or, as they were termed, "states
with limited interests." This band of patriots had pilgrimaged to Paris
full of hope for their respective countries, having drunk in avidly the
unstinted praise and promises which had served as pabulum for their
attachment to the Allied cause during the war. But their illusions were
short-lived. At one of their first meetings with the delegates of the
Great Powers a storm burst which scattered their expectations to the
winds. When the sky cleared it was discovered that from indispensable
fellow-workers they had shrunk to dwarfish protégées, mere units of an
inferior category, who were to be told what to do and would be
constrained to do it thoroughly if not unmurmuringly.
At the historic sitting of January 26th, the delegates of the lesser
states protested energetically against the purely decorative part
assigned to them at a Conference in the decisions of which their peoples
were so intensely interested. The Canadian Minister, having spoken of
the "proposal" of the Great Powers, was immediately corrected by M.
Clemenceau, who brusquely said that it was not a proposal, but a
decision, which was therefore definitive and final. Thereupon the
Belgian delegate, M. Hymans, delivered a masterly speech, pleading for
genuine discussion in order to elucidate matters that so closely
concerned them all, and he requested the Conference to allow the smaller
belligerent Allies more than two delegates. Their demand was curtly
rejected by the French Premier, who informed his hearers that the
Conference was the creation of the Great Powers, who intended to keep
the direction of its labors in their own hands. He added significantly
that the smaller nations' representatives would probably not have been
invited at all if the special problem of the League of Nations had not
been mooted. Nor should it be forgotten, he added, that the five Great
Powers represented no less than twelve million fighting-men.... In
conclusion, he told them that they had better get on with their work in
lieu of wasting precious time in speechmaking. These words produced a
profound and lasting effect, which, however, was hardly the kind
intended by the French statesman.
"Conferential Tsarism" was the term applied to this magisterial method
by one of the offended delegates. He said to me on the morrow: "My reply
to M. Clemenceau was ready, but fear of impairing the prestige of the
Conference prevented me from uttering it. I could have emphasized the
need for unanimity in the presence of vigilant enemies, ready to
introduce a wedge into every fissure of the edifice we are constructing.
I could have pointed out that, this being an assembly of nations which
had waged war conjointly, there is no sound reason why its membership
should be diluted with states which never drew the sword at all. I might
have asked what has become of the doctrine preached when victory was
still undecided, that a league of nations must repose upon a free
consent of all sovereign states. And above all things else I could have
inquired how it came to pass that the architect-in-chief of the society
of nations which is to bestow a stable peace on mankind should invoke
the argument of force, of militarism, against the pacific peoples who
voluntarily made the supreme sacrifice for the cause of humanity and now
only ask for a hearing. Twelve million fighting-men is an argument to be
employed against the Teutons, not against the peace-loving, law-abiding
peoples of Europe.
"Premier Clemenceau seemed to lay the blame for the waste of time on our
shoulders, but the truth is that we were never admitted to the
deliberations until yesterday; although two and one-half months have
elapsed since the armistice was concluded, and although the progress
made by these leading statesmen is manifestly limited, he grudged us
forty-five minutes to give vent to our views and wishes.
"The French Tiger was admirable when crushing the enemies of
civilization with his twelve million fighting-men; but gestures and
actions which were appropriate to the battlefield become sources of
jarring and discord when imported into a concert of peoples."
Much bitterness was generated by those high-handed tactics, whereupon
certain slight concessions were made in order to placate the offended
delegates; but, being doled out with a bad grace, they failed of the
effect intended. Belgium received three delegates instead of two, and
Jugoslavia three; but Rumania, whose population was estimated at
fourteen millions, was allowed but two. This inexplicable decision
caused a fresh wound, which was kept continuously open by friction,
although it might readily have been avoided. Its consequences may be
traced in Rumania's singular relations to the Supreme Council before and
after the fall of Kuhn in Hungary.
But even those drastic methods might be deemed warranted if the policy
enforced were, in truth, conducive to the welfare of the nations on whom
it was imposed. But hastily improvised by one or two men, who had no
claim to superior or even average knowledge of the problems involved,
and who were constantly falling into egregious and costly errors, it was
inevitable that their intervention should be resented as arbitrary and
mischievous by the leaders of the interested nations whose
acquaintanceship with those questions and with the interdependent issues
was extensive and precise. This resentment, however, might have been
not, indeed, neutralized, but somewhat mitigated, if the temper and
spirit in which the Duumvirate discharged its self-set functions had
been free from hauteur and softened by modesty. But the magisterial
wording in which its decisions were couched, the abruptness with which
they were notified, and the threats that accompanied their imposition
would have been repellent even were the authors endowed with
infallibility.
One of the delegates who unbosomed himself to me on the subject soon
after the Germans had signed the Treaty remarked: "The Big Three are
superlatively unsympathetic to most of the envoys from the lesser
belligerent states. And it would be a wonder if it were otherwise, for
they make no effort to hide their disdain for us. In fact, it is
downright contempt. They never consult us. When we approach them they
shove us aside as importunate intruders. They come to decisions unknown
to us, and carry them out in secrecy, as though we were enemies or
spies. If we protest or remonstrate, we are imperialists and ungrateful.
"Often we learn only from the newspapers the burdens or the restrictions
that have been imposed on us."