was that respecting the sums of money which Germany should have been
made to pay to her victorious enemies. For the opinions on that subject
held by the average man, and connived at or approved by the authorities,
were wholly fantastic, just as were some of the expectations of other
Allied states. The French people differ from their neighbors in many
respects--and in a marked way in money matters. They will sacrifice
their lives rather than their substance. They will leave a national debt
for their children and their children's children, instead of making a
resolute effort to wipe it out or lessen it by amortization. In this
respect the British, the Americans, and also the Germans differ from
them. These peoples tax themselves freely, create sinking funds, and
make heavy sacrifices to pay off their money obligations. This habit is
ingrained. The contrary system is become second nature to the French,
and one cannot change a nation's habits overnight. The education of the
people might, however, have been undertaken during the war with
considerable chances of satisfactory results. The government might have
preached the necessity of relinquishing a percentage of the war gains to
the state. It was done in Britain and Germany. The amount of money
earned by individuals during the hostilities was enormous. A
considerable percentage of it should have been requisitioned by the
state, in view of the peace requirements and of the huge indebtedness
which victory or defeat must inevitably bring in its train. But no
Minister had the courage necessary to brave the multitude and risk his
share of popularity or tolerance. And so things were allowed to slide.
The people were assured that victory would recompense their efforts, not
only by positive territorial gains, but by relieving them of their new
financial obligations.
That was a sinister mistake. The truth is that the French nation, if
defeated, would have paid any sum demanded. That was almost an axiom. It
would and could have expected no ruth. But, victorious, it looked to the
enemy for the means of refunding the cost of the war. The Finance
Minister--M. Klotz--often declared to private individuals that if the
Allies were victorious he would have all the new national debt wiped out
by the enemy, and he assured the nation that milliards enough would be
extracted from Germany to balance the credit and debit accounts of the
Republic. And the people naturally believed its professional expert.
Thus it became a dogma that the Teuton state was to provide all the cost
of the war. In that illusion the nation lived and worked and spent money
freely, nay, wasted it woefully.
And yet M. Klotz should have known better. For he was supplied with
definite data to go upon. In October, 1918, the French government, in
doubt about the full significance of that one of Mr. Wilson's Fourteen
Points which dealt with reparations, asked officially for explanations,
and received from Mr. Lansing the answer by telegraph that it involved
the making good by the enemy of all losses inflicted directly and
lawlessly upon civilians, but none other. That surely was a plain answer
and a just principle. But, in accordance with the practice of secrecy in
vogue among Allied European governments, the nation was not informed of
these restrictive conditions, but was allowed to hug dangerous
delusions.
But the Ministers knew them, and M. Klotz was a Minister. Not only,
however, did he not reveal what he knew, but he behaved as though his
information was of a directly contrary tenor, and he also stated that
Germany must also refund the war indemnities of 1870, capitalized down
to November, 1918, and he set down the sum at fifty milliards of
francs. This procedure was not what reasonably might have been expected
from the leader of a heroic nation stout-hearted enough to face
unpleasant facts. Some of the leading spirits in the country, despite
the intensity of their feelings toward Germany, disapproved this kind of
bookkeeping, but M. Klotz did not relinquish his method of keeping
accounts. He drew up a bill against the Teutons for one thousand and
eighty-six milliards of francs.
The Germans at the Conference maintained that if the wealth of their
nation were realized and liquid, it would amount at most to four hundred
milliards, but that to realize it would involve the stripping of the
population of everything--of its forests, its mines, its railways, its
factories, its cattle, its houses, its furniture, and its ready money.
They further pleaded that the territorial clauses of the Treaty deprived
them of important resources, which would reduce their solvency to a
greater degree than the Allies realized. These clauses dispossessed the
nation of 21 per cent. of the total crops of cereals and potatoes. A
further falling off in the quantities of food produced would result from
the restrictions on the importation of raw materials for the manufacture
of fertilizers. Of her coal, Germany was forfeiting about one-third;
three-fourths of her iron ore was also being taken away from her; her
total zinc production would be cut down by over three-fifths. Add to
this the enormous shortage of tonnage, machinery, and man-power, the
total loss of her colonies, the shrinkage of available raw stuffs, and
the depreciation of the mark.
At the Conference the Americans maintained their ground. Invoking the
principle laid down by Mr. Wilson and clearly formulated by Mr. Lansing,
they insisted that reparations should be claimed only for damage done to
civilians directly and lawlessly. After a good deal of fencing,
rendered necessary by the pledges given by European statesmen to their
electors, it was decided that the criteria provided by that principle
should be applied. But even with that limitation the sums claimed were
huge. It was alleged by the Germans that some of the demands were for
amounts that exceeded the total national wealth of the country filing
the claim. And as no formula could be devised that would satisfy all the
claimants, it was resolved in principle that, although Germany should be
obliged to make good only certain classes of losses, the Conference
would set no limits to the sums for which she would thus be liable.
At this juncture M. Loucheur suggested that a minimum sum should be
demanded of the enemy, leaving the details to be settled by a
commission. And this was the solution which was finally adopted.[309] It
was received with protests and lamentations, which, however, soon made
place for self-congratulations, official and private.
The French Minister of Finances, for example, drew a bright picture in
the Chamber of the financial side of the Treaty, so far as it affected
his country: "Within two years," he announced, "independently of the
railway rolling stock, of agricultural materials and restitutions, we
receive a part, still to be fixed, of the payment of twenty milliards of
marks in gold; another share, also to be determined, of an emission of
bonds amounting to forty milliard gold marks, bearing interest at the
rate of 2 per cent.; a third part, to be fixed, of German shipping and
dyes; seven million tons of coal annually for a period of ten years,
followed by diminishing quantities during the following years; the
repayment of the expenses of occupation; the right of taking over a part
of Germany's interests in Russia, in particular that of obtaining the
payment of pre-war debts at the pre-war rate of exchange, likewise the
maintenance of such contracts as we may desire to maintain in force and
the return of Alsace-Lorraine free from all incumbrances. Nor is that
all. In Morocco we have the right to liquidate German property, to
transfer the shares that represent Germany's interests in the Bank of
Morocco, and finally the allotment under a French mandate of a portion
of the German colonies free from incumbrances of any kind.... We shall
receive four hundred and sixty-three milliard francs, payable in
thirty-six years, without counting the restitutions which will have been
effected. Nor should it be forgotten that already we have received eight
milliards' worth of securities stolen from French bearers. So do not
consider the Treaty as a misfortune for France."[310]
Soon after the outburst of joy with which the ingathering of the fruits
of France's victory was celebrated, clouds unexpectedly drifted athwart
the cerulean blue of the political horizon, and dark shadows were flung
across the Allied countries. The second-and third-class nations fell out
with the first-class Powers. Italy, for example, whose population is
almost equal to that of her French sister, demanded compensation for the
vast additions that were being made to France's extensive possessions.
The grounds alleged were many. Compensation had been promised by the
secret treaty. The need for it was reinforced by the rejection of
Italy's claims in the Adriatic. The Italian people required, desired,
and deserved a fair and fitting field for legitimate expansion. They are
as numerous as the French, and have a large annual surplus population,
which has to hew wood and draw water for foreign peoples. They are
enterprising, industrious, thrifty, and hard workers. Their country
lacks some of the necessaries of material prosperity, such as coal,
iron, and cotton. Why should it not receive a territory rich in some of
these products? Why should a large contingent of Italy's population have
to go to the colonies of Spain, France, and Britain or to South American
republics for a livelihood? The Italian press asked whether the Supreme
Council was bent on fulfilling the Gospel dictum, "Whosoever hath, to
him shall be given...."
One of the first demands made by Italy was for the port and town of
Djibouti, which is under French sway. It was rejected, curtly and
emphatically. Other requests elicited plausible explanations why they
could not be complied with. In a word, Italy was treated as a poor and
importunate relation, and was asked to console herself with the
reflection that she was working in the vineyard of idealism. In vain
eminent publicists in Rome, Turin, and Milan pleaded their country's
cause. Adopting the principle which Mr. Wilson had applied to France and
Britain, they affirmed that even before the war France, with a larger
population and fewer possessions, had shown that she was incapable of
discharging the functions which she had voluntarily taken upon herself.
Tunis, they alleged, owed its growth and thriving condition to Italian
emigrants. With all the fresh additions to her territories, the
population of the Republic would be utterly inadequate to the task. To
the Supreme Council this line of reasoning was distinctly unpalatable.
Nor did the Italians further their cause when, by way of giving emphatic
point to their reasoning, their press quoted that eminent Frenchman, M.
d'Estournelles de Constant, who wrote at that very moment: "France has
too many colonies already--far more in Asia, in Africa, in America, in
Oceania than she can fructify. In this way she is immobilizing
territories, continents, peoples, which nominally she takes over. And it
is childish and imprudent to take barren possession of them, when other
states allege their power to utilize them in the general interest. By
acting in this manner, France, do what she may, is placing herself in
opposition to the world's interests, and to those of the League of
Nations. In the long run it is a serious business. Spain, Portugal, and
Holland know this to their cost. Do what she would, France was not able
before the war to utilize all her immense colonial domain ... for lack
of population. She will be still less able after the war...."[311]
The discussion grew dangerously animated. Epigrams were coined and sent
floating in the heavily charged air. A tactless comparison was made
between the French nation and a _bon vivant_ of sixty-five who flatters
himself that he can enjoy life's pleasures on the same scale as when he
was only thirty. Little arrows thus barbed with biting acid often make
more enduring mischief than sledge-hammer blows. Soon the estrangement
between the two sister nations unhappily became wider and led to marked
divergences in their respective policies, which seem fraught with grave
consequences in the future.
The Italy of to-day is not the Italy of May, 1915. She now knows exactly
where she stands. When she unsheathed her sword to fight against the
allies of the state that declared a treaty to be but a scrap of paper,
she was heartened by a solemn promise given in writing by her comrades
in arms. But when she had accomplished her part of the contract, that
document turned out to be little more than another scrap of paper. Thus
it was one of the piquant ironies of Fate, Italian publicists said, that
the people who had mostly clamored against that doctrine were indirectly
helping it to triumph. Mr. Wilson, unwittingly sapping public faith in
written treaties, was held up as one of the many pictures in which the
Conference abounded of the delegates refuting their words by acts. The
unbiased historian will readily admit that the secret treaties were
profoundly immoral from the Wilsonian angle of vision, but that the only
way of canceling them was by a general principle rigidly upheld and
impartially applied. And this the Supreme Council would not entertain.
With her British ally, too, France had an unpleasant falling out about
Eastern affairs, and in especial about Syria and Persia. There was also
a demand for the retrocession by Britain of the island of Mauritius, but
it was not made officially, nor is it a subject for two such nations to
quarrel over. The first rift in the lute was caused by the deposition of
Emir Faisal respecting the desires of the Arab population. This
picturesque chief, the French press complained, had been too readily
admitted to the Conference and too respectfully listened to there,
whereas the Persian delegation tramped for months over the Paris streets
without once obtaining a hearing. The Hedjaz, which had been independent
from time immemorial, was formally recognized as a separate kingdom
during the war, and the Grand Sheriff of Mecca was suddenly raised to
the throne in the European sense by France and Britain. Since then he
was formally recognized by the five Powers. His representatives in Paris
demanded the annexation of all the countries of Arabic speech which were
under Turkish domination. These included not only Mesopotamia, but also
Syria, on which France had long looked with loving eyes and respecting
which there existed an accord between her and Britain. The project
community would represent a Pan-Arab federation of about eleven million
souls, over which France would have no guardianship. And yet the
written accord had never been annulled. Palestine was excluded from
this Pan-Arabian federation, and Syria was to be consulted, and instead
of being handed over to France, as M. Clemenceau demanded, was to be
allowed to declare its own wishes without any injunctions from the
Conference. Mesopotamia would be autonomous under the League of Nations,
but a single mandatory was asked for by the king of the Hedjaz for the
entire eleven million inhabitants.
The comments of the French press on Britain's attitude, despite their
studied reserve and conventional phraseology, bordered on recrimination
and hinted at a possible cooling of friendship between the two nations,
and in the course of the controversy the evil-omened word "Fashoda" was
pronounced. The French _Temps's_ arguments were briefly these: The
populations claimed occupy such a vast stretch of territory that the
sovereignty of the Hedjaz could hardly be more than nominal and
symbolical. In fact, they cover an area of one-half of the Ottoman
Empire. These different provinces would, in reality, be under the
domination of the Great Power which was the real creator of this new
kingdom, and the monarch of the Hedjaz would be a mere stalking-horse of
Britain. This, it was urged, would not be independence, but a masked
protectorate, and in the name of the higher principles must be
prevented. Syria must be handed over to France without consulting the
population. The financial resources of the Hedjaz are utterly inadequate
for the administration of such a vast state as was being compacted. Who,
then, it was asked, would supply the indispensable funds? Obviously
Britain, who had been providing the Emir Faisal with funds ever since
his father donned the crown. If this political entity came into
existence, it would generate continuous friction between France and
Britain, separate comrades in arms, delight a vigilant enemy, and
violate a written compact which should be sacred. For these reasons it
should be rejected and Syria placed under the guardianship of France.
The Americans took the position that congruously with the high ethical
principles which had guided the labors of the Conference throughout, it
was incumbent on its members, instead of bartering civilized peoples
like chattels, to consult them as to their own aspirations. If it were
true that the Syrians were yearning to become the wards of France, there
could be no reasonable objection on the part of the French delegates to
agree to a plebiscite. But the French delegates declined to entertain
the suggestion on the ground that Syria's longing for French guidance
was a notorious fact.
After much discussion and vehement opposition on the part of the French
delegates an Inter-Allied commission under Mr. Charles Crane was sent to
visit the countries in dispute and to report on the leanings of their
populations. After having visited forty cities and towns and more than
three hundred villages, and received over fifteen hundred delegations of
natives, the commission reported that the majority of the people "prefer
to maintain their independence," but do not object to live under the
mandatory system for fifty years _provided the United States accepts_
the mandate. "Syria desires to become a sovereign kingdom, and most of
the population supports the Emir Faisal as king.[312] The commission
further ascertained that the Syrians, "who are singularly enlightened as
to the policies of the United States," invoked and relied upon a
Franco-British statement of policy[313] which had been distributed
broadcast throughout their country, "promising complete liberation from
the Turks and the establishment of free governments among the native
population and recognition of these governments by France and
Britain."[314]
The result of the investigation by the Inter-Allied commission reminds
one of the story of the two anglers who were discussing the merits of
two different sauces for the trout which one of them had caught. As they
were unable to agree they decided to refer the matter to the trout, who
answered: "Gentlemen, I do not wish to be eaten with any sauce. I desire
to live and be free in my own element." "Ah, now you are wandering from
the question," exclaimed the two, who thereupon struck up a compromise
on the subject of the sauce.
The tone of this long-drawn-out controversy, especially in the press,
was distinctly acrimonious. It became dangerously bitter when the French
political world was apprised one day of the conclusion of a treaty
between Britain and Persia as the outcome of secret negotiations between
London and Teheran. And excitement grew intenser when shortly afterward
the authentic text of this agreement was disclosed. In France, Italy,
Germany, Russia, and the United States the press unanimously declared
that Persia's international status as determined by the new diplomatic
instrument could best be described by the evil-sounding words
"protectorate" and the violation of the mandatory system adopted by the
Conference.
This startling development shed a strong light upon the new ordering of
the world and its relation to the Wilsonian gospel, complicated with
secret negotiations, protectorates without mandates, and the one-sided
abrogation of compacts.
Persia is one of the original members of the League of Nations,[315] and
as such was entitled, the French argued, to a hearing at the
Conference. She had grievances that called for redress: her neutrality
had been violated, many of her subjects had been put to death, and her
titles to reparation were undeniable. President Wilson, the comforter of
small states and oppressed nationalities, having proclaimed that the
weakest communities would command the same friendly treatment as the
greatest, the Persian delegates repaired to Paris in the belief that
this treatment would be accorded them. But there they were
disillusioned. For them there was no admission. Whether, if they had
been heard and helped by the Supreme Council, they would have contrived
to exist as an independent state is a question which cannot be discussed
here. The point made by the French was that on its own showing the
Conference was morally bound to receive the Persian delegation. The
utmost it obtained was that the Persian Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Monalek, who was head of the delegation, had a private talk with
President Wilson, Colonel House, and Mr. Lansing. These statesmen
unhesitatingly promised to help Persia to secure full sovereign rights,
or at any rate to enable her delegates to unfold their country's case
and file their protests before the Conference. The delegates were
comforted and felt sure of the success of their mission. They told the
American plenipotentiaries that the United States would be Persia's
creditor for this help and that she would invite American financiers to
put her money matters in order, American engineers to develop her mining
industries, and the American oil firms to examine and exploit her petrol
deposits.[316] In a word, Persia would be Americanized. This naïve
announcement of the rôle reserved for American benefactors in the land
of the Shah might have impressed certain commercial and financial
interests in the United States, but was wholly alien to the only order
of motives that could properly move the American plenipotentiaries to
interpose in favor of their would-be wards.
The promises made by Messrs. Wilson, House, and Lansing came to nothing.
For months the Persian envoys lived in hope which was strengthened by
the assurances of various members of the Conference that the
intervention of Mr. Wilson would infallibly prove successful. But events
belied this forecast, whereupon the head of the Persian delegation,
after several months of hopes deferred, quitted France for
Constantinople, and his country's position among the nations was settled
in detail by the new agreement.
That position does undoubtedly resemble very closely Egypt's status
before the outbreak of the World War. And Egypt's status could hardly be
termed independence. Henceforward Great Britain has a strong hold on the
Persian customs, the control of the waterways and carriage routes, the
rights of railway construction, the oil-fields--these were ours
before--the right to organize the army and direct the foreign policy of
the kingdom. And it may fairly be argued that this arrangement may prove
a greater blessing to the Persians than the realization of their own
ambitions. That, at any rate, is my own personal belief, which for many
years I have held and expressed. None the less it runs diametrically
counter to the letter and the spirit of Wilsonianism, which is now seen
to be a wall high enough to keep out the dwarf states, but which the
giants can easily clear at a bound.
Against this violation of the new humanitarian doctrine French
publicists flared up. The glaring character of the transgression
revolted them, the plight of the Persians touched them, and the right of
self-determination strongly appealed to them. Was it not largely for the
assertion of that right that all the Allied peoples had for five years
been making unheard-of sacrifices? What would become of the League of
Nations if such secret and selfish doings were connived at? In a word,
French sympathy for the victims of British hegemony waxed as strong as
the British fellow-feeling for the Syrians, who objected to be drawn
into the orbit of the French. Those sharp protests and earnest appeals,
it may be noted, were the principal, perhaps the only, symptoms of
tenderness for unprotected peoples which were evoked by the great
ethical movement headed by the Conference.