which split the delegates into two main parties, of which one was
solicitous mainly about the resettlement of the world and its future
mainstay, the League of Nations, and the other about the furtherance of
national interests, which, it maintained, was equally indispensable to
an enduring peace. The latter were ready to welcome the League on
condition that it was utilized in the service of their national
purposes, but not if it countered them. To bridge the chasm between the
two was the task to which President Wilson courageously set his hand.
Unluckily, by way of qualifying for the experiment, he receded from his
own strong position, and having cut his moorings from one shove, failed
to reach the other. His pristine idea was worthy of a world-leader; had,
in fact, been entertained and advocated by some of the foremost spirits
of modern times. He purposed bringing about conditions under which the
pacific progress of the world might be safeguarded in a very large
measure and for an indefinite time. But being very imperfectly
acquainted with the concrete conditions of European and Asiatic
peoples--he had never before felt the pulsation of international
life--his ideas about the ways and means were hazy, and his calculations
bore no real reference to the elements of the problem. Consequently,
with what seemed a wide horizon and a generous ambition, his grasp was
neither firm nor comprehensive enough for such a revolutionary
undertaking. In no case could he make headway without the voluntary
co-operation of the nations themselves, who in their own best interests
might have submitted to heavy sacrifices, to which their leaders, whom
he treated as true exponents of their will, refused their consent. But
he scouted the notion of a world-parliament. Whenever, therefore,
contemplating a particular issue, not as an independent question in
itself, but as an integral part of a larger problem, he made a
suggestion seemingly tending toward the ultimate goal, his motion
encountered resolute opposition in the face of which he frequently
retreated.
At the outset, on which so much depended, the peoples as distinguished
from the governments appeared to be in general sympathy with his
principal aim, and it seemed at the time that if appealed to on a clear
issue they would have given him their whole-hearted support, provided
always that, true to his own principles, he pressed these to the fullest
extent and admitted no such invidious distinctions as privileged and
unprivileged nations. This belief was confirmed by what I heard from men
of mark, leaders of the labor people, and three Prime Ministers. They
assured me that such an appeal would have evoked an enthusiastic
response in their respective countries. Convinced that the principles
laid down by the President during the last phases of the war would go
far to meet the exigencies of the conjuncture, I ventured to write on
one of the occasions, when neither party would yield to the other: "The
very least that Mr. Wilson might now do, if the deadlock continues, is
to publish to the world the desirable objects which the United States
are disinterestedly, if not always wisely, striving for, and leave the
judgment to the peoples concerned."[288]
But he recoiled from the venture. Perhaps it was already too late. In
the judgment of many, his assent to the suppression of the problem of
the freedom of the seas, however unavoidable as a tactical expedient,
knelled the political world back to the unregenerate days of strategical
frontiers, secret alliances, military preparations, financial burdens,
and the balance of power. On that day, his grasp on the banner relaxing,
it fell, to be raised, it may be, at some future time by the peoples
whom he had aspired to lead. The contests which he waged after that
first defeat had little prospect of success, and soon the pith and
marrow of the issue completely disappeared. The utmost he could still
hope for was a paper covenant--- which is a different thing from a
genuine accord--to take home with him to Washington. And this his
colleagues did not grudge him. They were operating with a different cast
of mind upon a wholly different set of ideas. Their aims, which they
pursued with no less energy and with greater perseverance than Mr.
Wilson displayed, were national. Some of them implicitly took the ground
that Germany, having plunged the world in war, would persist
indefinitely in her nefarious machinations, and must, therefore, in the
interests of general peace, be crippled militarily, financially,
economically, and politically, for as long a time as possible, while her
potential enemies must for the same reason be strengthened to the utmost
at her expense, and that this condition of things must be upheld through
the beneficent instrumentality of the League of Nations.
On these conflicting issues ceaseless contention went on from the start,
yet for lack of a strong personality of sound, over-ruling judgment the
contest dragged on without result. For months the demon of
procrastination seemed to have possessed the souls of the principal
delegates, and frustrated their professed intentions to get through the
work expeditiously. Even unforeseen incidents led to dangerous delay.
Every passing episode became a ground for postponing the vital issue,
although each day lost increased the difficulties of achieving the
principal object, which was the conclusion of peace. For example, the
committee dealing with the question of reparations would reach a
decision, say, that Germany must pay a certain sum, which would entail a
century of strenuous effort, accompanied with stringent thrift and
self-denial; while the Economic Committee decided that her supply of raw
material should be restricted within such narrow limits as to put such
payment wholly out of her power. And this difference of view
necessitated a postponement of the whole issue. Mr. Hughes, the Premier
of Australia, commenting on this shilly-shallying, said with truth:[289]
"The minds of the people are grievously perturbed. The long delay,
coupled with fears lest that the Peace Treaty, when it does come, should
prove to be a peace unworthy, unsatisfactory, unenduring, has made the
hearts of the people sick. We were told that the Peace Treaty would be
ready in the coming week, but we look round and see half a world engaged
in war, or preparation for war. Bolshevism is spreading with the
rapidity of a prairie fire. The Allies have been forced to retreat from
some of the most fertile parts of southern Russia, and Allied troops,
mostly British, at Murmansk and Archangel are in grave danger of
destruction. Yet we were told that peace was at hand, and that the world
was safe for liberty and democracy. It is not fine phrases about peace,
liberty, and making the world safe for democracy that the world wants,
but deeds. The peoples of the Allied countries justifiably desire to be
reassured by plain, comprehensible statements, instead of
long-drawn-out negotiations and the thick veil of secrecy in which
these were shrouded."
It requires an effort to believe that procrastination was raised to the
level of a theory by men whose experience of political affairs was
regarded as a guarantee of the soundness of their judgment. Yet it is an
incontrovertible fact that dilatory tactics were seriously suggested as
a policy at the Conference. It was maintained that, far from running
risks by postponing a settlement, the Entente nations were, on the
contrary, certain to find the ground better prepared the longer the day
of reckoning was put off. Germany, they contended, had recovered
temporarily from the Bolshevik fever, but the improvement was fleeting.
The process of decomposition was becoming intenser day by day, although
the symptoms were not always manifest. Lack of industrial production, of
foreign trade and sound finances, was gnawing at the vitals of the
Teuton Republic. The army of unemployed and discontented was swelling.
Soon the sinister consequences of this stagnation would take the form of
rebellions and revolts, followed by disintegration. And this conjunction
would be the opportunity of the Entente Powers, who could then step in,
present their bills, impose their restrictions, and knead the Teuton
dough into any shape they relished. Then it would be feasible to
prohibit the Austrian-Germans from ever entering the Republic as a
federated state. In a word, the Allied governments need only command,
and the Teutons would hasten to obey. It is hardly credible that men of
experience in foreign politics should build upon such insecure
foundations as these. It is but fair to say the Conference rejected this
singular program in theory while unintentionally carrying it out.
Although everybody admitted that the liquidation of the world conflict
followed by a return to normal conditions was the one thing that pressed
for settlement, so intent were the plenipotentiaries on preventing wars
among unborn generations that they continued to overlook the pressing
needs of their contemporaries. It is at the beginning and end of an
enterprise that the danger of failure is greatest, and it was the
opening moves of the Allies that proved baleful to their subsequent
undertakings. Germany, one would think, might have been deprived
summarily of everything which was to be ultimately and justly taken from
her, irrespective of its final destination. The first and most important
operation being the severance of the provinces allotted to other
peoples, their redistribution might safely have been left until
afterward. And hardly less important was the despatch of an army to
eastern Europe. Then Germany, broken in spirit, with Allied troops on
both her fronts, between the two jaws of a vise, could not have said nay
to the conditions. But this method presupposed a plan which unluckily
did not exist. It assumed that the peace terms had been carefully
considered in advance, whereas the Allies prepared for war during
hostilities, and for peace during the negotiations. And they went about
this in a leisurely, lackadaisical way, whereas expedition was the key
to success.
As for a durable peace, involving general disarmament, it should have
been outlined in a comprehensive program, which the delegates had not
drawn up, and it would have become feasible only if the will to pursue
it proceeded from principle, not from circumstances. In no case could it
be accomplished without the knowledge and co-operation of the peoples
themselves, nor within the time-limits fixed for the work of the
Conference. For the abolition of war and the creation of a new ordering,
like human progress, is a long process. It admits of a variety of
beginnings, but one can never be sure of the end, seeing that it
presupposes a radical change in the temper of the peoples, one might
almost say a remodeling of human nature. It can only be the effect of a
variety of causes, mainly moral, operating over a long period of time.
Peace with Germany was a matter for the governments concerned; the
elimination of war could only be accomplished by the peoples. The one
was in the main a political problem, the other social, economical, and
ethical.
Mr. Balfour asserted optimistically[290] that the work of concluding
peace with Germany was a very simple matter. None the less it took the
Conference over five months to arrange it. So desperately slow was the
progress of the Supreme Council that on the 213th day of the Peace
Conference,[291] two months after the Germans had signed the conditions,
not one additional treaty had been concluded, nay, none was even ready
for signature. The Italian plenipotentiary, Signor Tittoni, thereupon
addressed his colleagues frankly on the subject and asked them whether
they were not neglecting their primary duty, which was to conclude
treaties with the various enemies who had ceased to fight in November of
the previous year and were already waiting for over nine months to
resume normal life, and whether the delegates were justified in seeking
to discharge the functions of a supreme board for the government of all
Europe. He pointed out that nobody could hope to profit by the state of
disorder and paralysis for which this procrastination was answerable,
the economic effects making themselves felt sooner or later in every
country. He added that the cost of the war had been calculated for every
month, every week, every day, and that the total impressed every one
profoundly; but that nobody had thought it worth his while to count up
the atrocious cost of this incredibly slow peace and of the waste of
wealth caused every week and month that it dragged on. Italy, he
lamented, felt this loss more keenly than her partners because her peace
had not yet been concluded. He felt moved, therefore, he said, to tell
them that the business of governing Europe to which the Conference had
been attending all those months was not precisely the work for which it
was convoked.[292]
This sharp and timely admonition was the preamble of a motion. The
Conference was just then about to separate for a "well-earned holiday,"
during which its members might renew their spent energies and return in
October to resume their labors, the peoples in the meanwhile bearing the
cost in blood and substance. The Italian delegate objected to any such
break and adjured them to remain at their posts. Why, he asked, should
ill-starred Italy, which had already sustained so many and such painful
losses, be condemned to sacrifice further enormous sums in order that
the delegates who had been frittering away their time tackling
irrelevant issues, and endeavoring to rule all Europe, might have a
rest? Why should they interrupt the sessions before making peace with
Austria, with Hungary, with Bulgaria, with Turkey, and enabling Italy to
return to normal life? Why should time and opportunity be given to the
Turks and Kurds for the massacre of Armenian men, women, and children?
This candid reminder is said to have had a sobering effect on the
versatile delegates yearning for a holiday. The situation that evoked it
will arouse the passing wonder of level-headed men.
It is worth recording that such was the atmosphere of suspicion among
the delegates that the motives for this holiday were believed by some to
be less the need of repose than an unavowable desire to give time to
the Hapsburgs to recover the Crown of St. Stephen as the first step
toward seizing that of Austria.[293] The Austrians desired exemption
from the obligation to make reparations and pay crushing taxes, and one
of the delegates, with a leaning for that country, was not averse to the
idea. As the states that arose on the ruins of the Hapsburg monarchy
were not considered enemies by the Conference, it was suggested that
Austria herself should enjoy the same distinction. But the Italian
plenipotentiaries objected and Signor Tittoni asked, "Will it perhaps be
asserted that there was no enemy against whom we Italians fought for
three years and a half, losing half a million slain and incurring a debt
of eighty thousand millions?"
A French journal, touching on this Austrian problem, wrote:[294]
"Austria-Hungary has been killed and now France is striving to raise it
to life again. But Italy is furiously opposed to everything that might
lead to an understanding among the new states formed out of the old
possessions of the Hapsburgs. That, in fact, is why our transalpine
allies were so favorable to the union of Austria with Germany. France on
her side, whose one overruling thought is to reduce her vanquished enemy
to the most complete impotence, France who is afraid of being afraid,
will not tolerate an Austria joined to the German Federation." Here the
principle of self-determination went for nothing.
Before the Conference had sat for a month it was angrily assailed by the
peoples who had hoped so much from its love of justice--Egyptians,
Koreans, Irishmen from Ireland and from America, Albanians, Frenchmen
from Mauritius and Syria, Moslems from Aderbeidjan, Persians, Tartars,
Kirghizes, and a host of others, who have been aptly likened to the halt
and maimed among the nations waiting round the diplomatic Pool of Siloam
for the miracle of the moving of the waters that never came.[295]
These peoples had heard that a great and potent world-reformer had
arisen whose mission it was to redress secular grievances and confer
liberty upon oppressed nations, tribes, and tongues, and they sent their
envoys to plead before him. And these wandered about the streets of
Paris seeking the intercession of delegates, Ministers, and journalists
who might obtain for them admission to the presence of the new Messiah
or his apostles. But all doors were closed to them. One of the
petitioners whose language was vernacular English, as he was about to
shake the dust of Paris from his boots, quoting Sydney Smith, remarked:
"They, too, are Pharisees. They would do the Good Samaritan, but without
the oil and twopence. How has it come to pass that the Jews without an
official delegate commanded the support--the militant support--of the
Supreme Council, which did not hesitate to tyrannize eastern Europe for
their sake?"
Involuntarily the student of politics called to mind the report written
to Baron Hager[296] by one of his secret agents during the Congress of
Vienna: "Public opinion continues to be unfavorable to the Congress. On
all sides one hears it said that there is no harmony, that they are no
longer solicitous about the re-establishment of order and justice, but
are bent only on forcing one another's hands, each one grabbing as much
as he can.... It is said that the Congress will end because it must, but
that it will leave things more entangled than it found them.... The
peoples, who in consequence of the success, the sincerity, and the
noble-mindedness of this superb coalition had conceived such esteem for
their leaders and such attachment to them, and now perceive how they
have forgotten what they solemnly promised--justice, order, peace
founded on the equilibrium and legitimacy of their possessions--will end
by losing their affection and withdrawing their confidence in their
principles and their promises."
Those words, written a hundred and five years ago, might have been
penned any day since the month of February, 1919.
The leading motive of the policy pursued by the Supreme Council and
embodied in the Treaty was aptly described at the time as the systematic
protection of France against Germany. Hence the creation of the powerful
barrier states, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Jugoslavia, Greater Rumania, and
Greater Greece. French nationalists pleaded for further precautions more
comprehensive still. Their contention was that France's economic,
strategic, financial, and territorial welfare being the cornerstone of
the future European edifice, every measure proposed at the Conference,
whether national or general, should be considered and shaped in
accordance with that, and consequently that no possibility should be
accorded to Germany of rising again to a commanding position because, if
she once recovered her ascendancy in any domain whatsoever, Europe would
inevitably be thrust anew into the horrors of war. Territorially,
therefore, the dismemberment of Germany was obligatory; the annexation
of the Saar Valley, together with its six hundred thousand Teuton
inhabitants, was necessary to France, and either the annexation of the
left bank of the Rhine or its transformation into a detached state to be
occupied and administered by the French until Germany pays the last
farthing of the indemnity. Further, Austria must be deprived of the
right of determining her own mode of existence and constrained to
abandon the idea of becoming one of the federated states of the German
Republic, and, if possible, northern Germany should be kept entirely
separate from southern. The Allies should divide the Teutons in order to
sway them. All Germany's other frontiers should be delimitated in a like
spirit. And at the same time the work of knitting together the peoples
and nations of Europe and forming them into a friendly sodality was to
go forward without interruption.
"How to promote our interests in the Rhineland," wrote M. Maurice
Barrès,[297] "is a life-and-death question for us. We are going to carry
to the Rhine our military and, I hope, our economic frontier. The rest
will follow in its own good time. The future will not fail to secure for
us the acquiescence of the population of the Rhineland, who will live
freely under the protection of our arms, their faces turned toward
Paris."
Financially it was proposed that the Teutons should be forced to
indemnify France, Belgium, and the other countries for all the damage
they had inflicted upon them; to pay the entire cost of the war, as well
as the pensions to widows, orphans, and the mutilated. And the military
occupation of their country should be maintained until this huge debt is
wholly wiped out.
A Nationalist organ,[298] in a leading article, stated with brevity and
clearness the prevailing view of Germany's obligations. Here is a
characteristic passage: "She is rich, has reserves derived from many
years of former prosperity; she can work to produce and repair all the
evil she has done, rebuild all the ruins she has accumulated, and
restore all the fortunes she has destroyed, however irksome the burden."
After analyzing Doctor Helfferich's report published six years ago, the
article concluded, "Germany must pay; she disposes of the means because
she is rich; if she refuses we must compel her without hesitation and
without ruth."
As France, whose cities and towns and very soil were ruined, could not
be asked to restore these places at her own expense and tax herself
drastically like her allies, the Americans and British, the prior and
privileged right to receive payment on her share of the indemnity should
manifestly appertain to her. Her allies and associates should, it was
argued, accordingly waive their money claims until hers were satisfied
in full. Moreover, as France's future expenditure on her army of
occupation, on the administration of her colonies and of the annexed
territories, must necessarily absorb huge sums for years to come, which
her citizens feel they ought not to be asked to contribute, and as her
internal debt was already overwhelming, it is only meet and just that
her wealthier partners should pool their war debts with hers and share
their financial resources with her and all their other allies. This, it
was argued, was an obvious corollary of the war alliance. Economically,
too, the Germans, while permitted to resume their industrial occupations
on a sufficiently large scale to enable them to earn the wherewithal to
live and discharge their financial obligations, should be denied free
scope to outstrip France, whose material prosperity is admittedly
essential to the maintenance of general peace and the permanence of the
new ordering. In this condition, it is further contended, our chivalrous
ally was entitled to special consideration because of her low
birth-rate, which is one of the mainsprings of her difficulties. This
may permanently keep her population from rising above the level of forty
million, whereas Germany, by the middle of the century, will have
reached the formidable total of eighty million, so that competition
between them would not be on a footing of equality. Hence the chances
should be evenly balanced by the action of the Conference, to be
continued by the League. Discriminating treatment was therefore a
necessity. And it should be so introduced that France should be free to
maintain a protective tariff, of which she had sore need for her foreign
trade, without causing umbrage to her allies. For they could not gainsay
that her position deserved special treatment.
Some of the Anglo-Saxon delegates took other ground, feeling unable to
countenance the postulate underlying those demands, namely, that the
Teuton race was to be forever anathema. They looked far enough ahead to
make due allowance for a future when conditions in Europe will be very
different from what they are to-day. The German race, they felt, being
numerous and virile, will not die out and cannot be suppressed. And as
it is also enterprising and resourceful it would be a mistake to render
it permanently hostile by the Allies overstepping the bounds of justice,
because in this case neither national nor general interests would be
furthered. You may hinder Germany, they argued, from acquiring the
hegemony of the world, but not from becoming the principal factor in
European evolution. If thirty years hence the German population totals
eighty million or more, will not their attitude and their sentiment
toward their neighbors constitute an all-important element of European
tranquillity and will not the trend of these be to a large extent the
outcome of the Allies' policy of to-day? The present, therefore, is the
time for the delegates to deprive that sentiment of its venomous,
anti-Allied sting, not by renouncing any of their countries' rights, but
by respecting those of others.