MEXICO
Many grave matters inherited from the Taft regime pressed upon the new
Administration for immediate solution. One of the most serious was the
situation in Mexico, growing out of the revolution against the Madero
Government which broke out in Mexico City on February 9, 1913. The murder
of ex-President Madero and Vice-President Suarez, and the usurpation of
presidential authority by General Victoriano Huerta, Minister of Foreign
Affairs, and the general industrial and social chaos of Mexico, made it
necessary for the new administration, only a month in power, quickly to
act and to declare its policy with reference to the question then pending
as to the recognition of the provisional government, the head of which was
Huerta. After becoming "President" of Mexico, the usurper had brazenly
addressed the following telegram to President Taft: "I have overthrown the
Government and, therefore, peace and order will reign," and boldly
asserted a claim to recognition by the Government of the United States.
This was the state of affairs in Mexico when President Wilson was
inaugurated. The duly-elected President of Mexico, Francisco Madero, had
been overthrown by a band of conspirators headed by Huerta. Were the
fruits of the hard-won fight of the Mexican masses against the arbitrary
rule of the favoured few to be wasted? President Wilson answered this
question in his formal statement of March 12, 1913, eight days after his
inauguration. With respect to Latin-American affairs, he said:
One of the chief objects of my administration will be to cultivate the
friendship and deserve the confidence of our sister republics of
Central and South America, and to promote in every proper and
honorable way the interests which are common to the peoples of the
two continents. I earnestly desire the most cordial understanding and
cooperation between the peoples and leaders of America, and,
therefore, deem it my duty to make this brief statement:
"Coöperation is possible only when supported at every turn by the
orderly processes of just government based upon law, not upon
arbitrary or irregular force. We hold, as I am sure all thoughtful
leaders of republican governments everywhere hold, that just
government rests always upon the consent of the governed, and that
there can be no freedom without order based upon law and upon the
public conscience and approval. We shall look to make these principles
the basis of mutual intercourse, respect, and helpfulness between our
sister republics and ourselves.... _We can have no sympathy with
those who seek to seize the power of government to advance their own
personal interests or ambition._"
Two considerations animated the President in the formulation of his
Mexican policy and compelled his adherence in it throughout his
administration, namely:
_The firm conviction that all nations, both the weak and the powerful,
have the inviolable right to control their internal affairs.
The belief, established from the history of the world, that Mexico will
never become a peaceful and law-abiding neighbour of the United States
until she has been permitted to achieve a permanent and basic settlement
of her troubles without outside interference._
Steadfastly, Woodrow Wilson refused to recognize Huerta as the Provisional
President of Mexico. He said: "Huerta, the bitter, implacable foe of
everything progressive and humane in Mexico, boldly defending the
privileges of the old scientifico group which he represented, openly
defied the authority of the United States and sneered at the much-
ridiculed policy of 'watchful waiting' proclaimed by the new
administration, and laughed to scorn the high idealism which lay behind
it." To him the declaration of the American President that "we can have no
sympathy with those who seek to seize the power of government to advance
their own personal interests or ambition" was a mere gesture, too puerile
to be seriously considered.
While Huerta in Mexico was blatantly denouncing this benevolent policy of
coöperation and helpfulness, aid and comfort were rendered the usurper by
the jingoistic criticisms of the President's enemies in the United States
Congress and throughout the country, many of whom, urged on by the oil
interests, in their mad delirium, cried out for a blood-and-iron policy
toward Mexico. Resisting the American interests in Mexico was a part of
the President's task. Those who cried loudest for intervention were they
who had land, mineral, and industrial investments in Mexico. The "vigorous
American policy" which they demanded was a policy for personal enrichment.
It was with this phase of the matter in mind that the President said: "I
have to pause and remind myself that I am President of the United States
and not of a small group of Americans with vested interests in Mexico."
But the new President, having mapped out the course he was to follow, a
course fraught with a great deal of danger to his administration, seeking
to bring about the moral isolation of Huerta himself, calmly moved on,
apparently unmindful of the jeers and ridicule of his critics in America
and elsewhere. "I am willing," he said, "no matter what my personal
fortunes may be, to play for the verdict of mankind. Personally, it will
be a matter of indifference to me what the verdict on the 7th of November
is, provided I feel any degree of confidence that when a later jury sits I
shall get their judgment in my favour. Not my favour personally--what
difference does that make?--but my favour as an honest and conscientious
spokesman of a great nation."
What an utterly foolish thing, said his critics, it is to attempt in this
day to oust a Mexican dictator by mere rhetoric and high-sounding phrases!
When Wilson said: "The situation must be given a little more time to work
itself out in the new circumstances; I believe that only a little while
will be necessary.... We must exercise the self-restraint of a really
great nation which realizes its own strength and scorns to misuse it," his
enemies smugly shrugged their shoulders and said, with disgust: "Well,
what's the use? what can you expect from a dreamer of dreams, a mere
doctrinaire? Doesn't Wilson, the historian, know that force and force
alone can bring that grizzly old warrior Huerta to his senses?"
What was the President seeking to do in proclaiming his policy of
"watchful waiting"? He was merely seeking to establish in Pan-American
affairs the principle that no president of a South American republic who
came to power by usurpation and assassination should receive, while he was
president, the recognition of the United States. This doctrine was not
only good statesmanship, but it was likewise sound in morals.
It was disheartening to find bitter criticism of this policy from the
outside, and depressing to find the enemies of watchful waiting "boring
from within" through his own Cabinet officers. Lindley Garrison, his own
Secretary of War, had no sympathy for this idealistic policy. His only
antidote for what was happening in Mexico was force and intervention and
he honourably urged this view upon the President, but without succeeding
in bringing about the consummation so dear to his heart.
And one denies, and one forsakes, and still unquestioning he goes, who
has his lonely thoughts.
But the President stood firm in his resolve that the people of Mexico
should not be punished for the malefactions of their usurping president,
and steadily, against great odds, he moved forward to vindicate his
policy, unmindful of the jeers and criticisms of his enemies. The heart of
that policy he eloquently exposed when he said: "I am more interested in
the fortunes of oppressed men, pitiful women and children, than in any
property rights whatever. The people of Mexico are striving for the rights
that are fundamental to life and happiness--fifteen million oppressed men,
overburdened women, and pitiful children in virtual bondage in their own
home of fertile lands and inexhaustible treasure! Some of the leaders of
the revolution may often have been mistaken and violent and selfish, but
the revolution itself was inevitable and is right. The unspeakable Huerta
betrayed the very comrades he served, traitorously overthrew the
government of which he was a trusted part, impudently spoke for the very
forces that had driven his people to rebellion with which he had pretended
to sympathize. The men who overcame him and drove him out represent at
least the fierce passion of reconstruction which lies at the very heart of
liberty; and so long as they represent, however imperfectly, such a
struggle for deliverance, I am ready to serve their ends when I can. So
long as the power of recognition rests with me the Government of the
United States will refuse to extend the hand of welcome to any one who
obtains power in a sister republic by treachery and violence."
But the President's policy of watchful waiting did win. The days of the
Huerta regime slowly wended their uneasy way. Huerta suspended the Mexican
Constitution and, having imprisoned half of the Mexican Congress,
proceeded to administer the Government as an arbitrary ruler. Slowly but
surely he began to feel the mighty pressure of the unfriendly Government
of the United States upon him. Still defiant, he sought to unite behind
him the Mexican people, hoping to provoke them to military action against
the United States. To hold his power he was willing to run the risk of
making his own country a bloody shamble, but President Wilson had the
measure of the tyrant Huerta from the beginning, and soon his efforts to
isolate him began to bear fruit. Even now his bitter critics gave a
listening ear to the oft-repeated statement of the American President, as
if it contained the germ of a prophecy:
The steady pressure of moral force will before many days break the
barriers of pride and prejudice down, and we shall triumph as Mexico's
friends sooner than we could triumph as her enemy--and how much more
handsomely and with how much higher and finer satisfactions of
conscience and of honour!
Little by little the usurper was being isolated. By moral pressure every
day his power and prestige were perceptibly crumbling. His collapse was
not far away when the President declared: "We shall not, I believe, be
obliged to alter our policy of watchful waiting." The campaign of Woodrow
Wilson to force Huerta finally triumphed. On July 15th, Huerta resigned
and departed from Mexico. Wilson's humanity and broad statesmanship had
won over the system of cruel oppression for which the "unspeakable Huerta"
had stood.
During the Huerta controversy a thing happened which aggravated the
Mexican affair, and which culminated in the now-famous Tampico incident.
On April 9, 1914, a paymaster of the United States steamship _Dolphin_
landed at the Iturbide bridge at Tampico with a whaleboat and boat's crew
to obtain supplies needed aboard the _Dolphin._ While loading these
supplies the paymaster and his men were arrested by an officer and squad
of the army of General Huerta. Neither the paymaster nor any of the boat's
crew were armed. The boat flew the United States flag both at the bow and
stern. Two of the men were in the boat when arrested and hence were taken
from United States "soil." Admiral Mayo, senior American officer stationed
off Tampico, immediately demanded the release of the sailors. Release was
ordered after the paymaster and the sailors had been detained about an
hour. Not only did Admiral Mayo demand the release of the sailors but
insisted on a formal apology by the Huerta Government consisting of a
twenty-one-gun salute to the flag.
During the critical days following the refusal of Huerta to accede to
Admiral Mayo's request the State Department was notified that there would
arrive at Vera Cruz the German steamship _Ypirango_ about to deliver to
Huerta 15,000,000 rounds of ammunition and 500 rapid-fire guns.
About 2.30 o'clock in the morning of the 21st day of April, 1914, the
telephone operator at the White House called me at my home, and rousing me
from bed, informed me that the Secretary of State, Mr. Bryan, desired to
speak to me at once upon a very urgent and serious matter. I went to the
telephone and was informed by Mr. Bryan that he had just received a
wireless informing him that the German steamship _Ypirango,_ carrying
munitions would arrive at Vera Cruz that morning about ten o'clock and
that he thought the President ought to be notified and that, in his
opinion, drastic measures should at once be taken to prevent the delivery
of these munitions to the Customs House at Vera Cruz. While Mr. Bryan and
I were talking, Mr. Daniels, the Secretary of the Navy, got on the wire
and confirmed all that Mr. Bryan had just told me. Soon the President was
on the 'phone, and in a voice indicating that he had just been aroused
from sleep, carried on the following conversation with Messrs. Bryan,
Daniels, and myself: Mr. Bryan reported to him the situation at Vera Cruz
and informed him of the receipt of the wireless:
"Mr. President, I am sorry to inform you that I have just received a
wireless that a German ship will arrive at Vera Cruz this morning at ten
o'clock, containing large supplies of munitions and arms for the Mexicans
and I want your judgment as to how we shall handle the situation."
Replying to Mr. Bryan, the President said: "Of course, Mr. Bryan, you
understand what drastic action in this matter might ultimately mean in our
relations with Mexico?"
Mr. Bryan said, by way of reply:
"I thoroughly appreciate this, Mr. President, and fully considered it
before telephoning you." For a second there was a slight pause and then
the President asked Mr. Daniels his opinion in regard to the matter.
Mr. Daniels frankly agreed with Mr. Bryan that immediate action should be
taken to prevent the German ship from landing its cargo. Without a
moment's delay the President said to Mr. Daniels:
"Daniels, send this message to Admiral Fletcher: '_Take Vera Cruz at
once_'."
As I sat at the 'phone on this fateful morning, away from the hurly-burly
world outside, clad only in my pajamas, and listened to this discussion,
the tenseness of the whole situation and its grave possibilities of war
with all its tragedy gripped me. Here were three men quietly gathered
about a 'phone, pacifists at heart, men who had been criticized and
lampooned throughout the whole country as being anti-militarist, now
without hesitation of any kind agreeing on a course of action that might
result in bringing two nations to war. They were pacifists no longer, but
plain, simple men, bent upon discharging the duty they owed their country
and utterly disregarding their own personal feelings of antagonism to
every phase of war.
After Mr. Bryan and Mr. Daniels had left the telephone the President said:
"Tumulty, are you there? What did you think of my message?" I replied that
there was nothing else to do under the circumstances. He then said: "It is
too bad, isn't it, but we could not allow that cargo to land. The Mexicans
intend using those guns upon our own boys. It is hard to take action of
this kind. I have tried to keep out of this Mexican mess, but we are now
on the brink of war and there is no alternative."
Discussing this vital matter that morning with the Commander-in-Chief of
the Army and Navy, I could visualize the possible tragedy of the whole
affair. I pictured the flagship of Admiral Fletcher with its fine cargo of
sturdy young marines, riding serenely at anchor off Vera Cruz, and those
aboard the vessel utterly unmindful of the message that was now on its way
through the air, an ominous message which to some of them would be a
portent of death. When the President concluded his conversation with me
his voice was husky. It indicated to me that he felt the solemnity of the
whole delicate business he was now handling, while the people of America,
whose spokesman he was, were at this hour quietly sleeping in their beds,
unaware and unmindful of the grave import of this message which was
already on its way to Vera Cruz.
When I arrived at the White House the next morning I found the newspaper
correspondents attached to the Executive offices uninformed of what had
happened in the early morning, but when I notified them that the President
had ordered Admiral Fletcher at 2.30 o'clock in the morning to take Vera
Cruz, they jumped, as one man, to the door, to flash this significant news
to the country and the world.
With Huerta's abdication Venustiano Carranza took hold, but the Mexican
troubles were not at an end. The constant raiding expeditions of Villa
across the American border were a source of great irritation and
threatened every few days a conflagration. While Villa stood with Carranza
as a companion in arms to depose Huerta, the _"entente cordiale"_ was at
an end as soon as Huerta passed off the stage. With these expeditions of
Villa and his motley crew across the border our relations with our
neighbour to the south were again seriously threatened. With Villa
carrying on his raids and Carranza always misunderstanding the purpose and
attitude of our Government and spurning its offer of helpful cooperation,
difficulties of various sorts arose with each day, until popular opinion
became insistent in its demand for vigorous action on the part of the
American President. Every ounce of reserve patience of the President was
called into action to keep the situation steady. How to do it, with many
incidents happening each day to intensify and aggravate an already acute
situation, was the problem that met the President at every turn. At this
time the President was the loneliest figure in Washington.
Grotesque uncertain shapes infest the dark
And wings of bats are heard in aimless flight;
Discordant voices cry and serpents hiss,
No friendly star, no beacon's beckoning ray.
Even the members of his own party in the Senate and House were left
without an apology or excuse for the seeming indifference of the President
to affairs in Mexico. Day after day from outraged senators would come
vigorous demands for firm action on the part of America, insistent that
something radical be done to establish conditions of peace along our
southern borders. From many of them came the unqualified demand for
intervention, so that the Mexican question should be once and for all
settled.
[Illustration:
Dear Tumulty,
Can't talk less than half an hour to save his life, and when he is
through he has talked on so many different subjects that I never can
remember what he said. It is literally impossible for me with the
present pressure upon me to see him, and I hope you will ask him if he
can't submit a memorandum.
The President.
C.L.S.
Dear Tumulty:
I should like to see Mr. ---- but just now it does not seem possible
because I know he is a gentleman who needs a good deal of sea room. I
am taking his suggestions up with the Secretary of the Navy.
The President.
C.L.S.
Dealing with bores.]
In the Cabinet, the Secretary of War, the vigorous spokesman of the
Cabinet group, demanding radical action in the way of intervention, was
insisting that we intervene and put an end to the pusillanimous rule of
Carranza and "clean up" Mexico. Even I, who had stood with the President
during the critical days of the Mexican imbroglio, for a while grew faint
hearted in my devotion to the policy of watchful waiting. To me, the
attack of Villa on Columbus, and the killing of some of our soldiers while
asleep, was the last straw. The continuance of this impossible situation
along the border was unthinkable. To force the President's hand, if
possible, I expressed my feelings in the following letters to him:
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON
March 15, 1916.
MY DEAR GOVERNOR:
I have been thinking over what we discussed this morning with
reference to the Mexican situation. I am not acting on impulse and
without a full realization, I hope, of everything that is involved. I
am convinced that we should pursue to the end the declared purpose
announced by you last Friday and endorsed by Congress and the people
of the United States of "getting Villa." If the _de facto_ government
is going to resist the entrance of our troops, a new situation will be
presented. I feel that you ought to advise Congress at the earliest
possible moment of what the situation really is in order to secure its
support and cooperation in whatever action is needed to accomplish the
purpose you have in mind. To retrace our steps now would be not only
disastrous to our party and humiliating to the country, but would be
destructive of our influence in international affairs and make it
forever impossible to deal in any effective way with Mexican affairs.
Your appeal to Congress ought to deal with this matter in an
affirmative way, asking for the requisite power which you may feel
assured will be granted you in ungrudging fashion.
My apology for writing you is my distress of mind and my deep interest
in everything that affects you and your future and, I hope, the
country's welfare. I would not be your friend if I did not tell you
frankly how I feel.
Faithfully,
TUMULTY.
THE PRESIDENT,
The White House.
* * * * *
THE WHITE HOUSE,
WASHINGTON
June 24, 1916.
DEAR GOVERNOR:
The Mexican authorities admit that they have taken American soldiers
and incarcerated them. The people feel that a demand should be made
for their immediate release, and that it should not take the form of
an elaborate note. Only firmness and an unflinching insistence upon
our part will bring the gentlemen in Mexico City to their senses.
If I were President at this moment, or acting as Secretary of State,
my message to Carranza would be the following:
"Release those American soldiers or take the consequences."
This would ring around the world.
Faithfully,
TUMULTY.
THE PRESIDENT,
The White House.
After reading these letters, the President sent for me one day to visit
with him in his study, and to discuss "the present situation in Mexico."
As I sat down, he turned to me in the most serious way and said: "Tumulty,
you are Irish, and, therefore, full of fight. I know how deeply you feel
about this Columbus affair. Of course, it is tragical and deeply
regrettable from every standpoint, but in the last analysis I, and not the
Cabinet or you, must bear the responsibility for every action that is to
be taken. I have to sleep with my conscience in these matters and I shall
be held responsible for every drop of blood that may be spent in the
enterprise of intervention. I am seriously considering every phase of this
difficult matter, and I can say frankly to you, and you may inform the
Cabinet officers who discuss it with you, that '_there won't be any war
with Mexico if I can prevent it_,' no matter how loud the gentlemen on the
hill yell for it and demand it. It is not a difficult thing for a
president to declare war, especially against a weak and defenceless nation
like Mexico. In a republic like ours, the man on horseback is always an
idol, and were I considering the matter from the standpoint of my own
political fortunes, and its influence upon the result of the next
election, I should at once grasp this opportunity and invade Mexico, for
it would mean the triumph of my administration. But this has never been in
my thoughts for a single moment. The thing that daunts me and holds me
back is the aftermath of war, with all its tears and tragedies. I came
from the South and I know what war is, for I have seen its wreckage and
terrible ruin. It is easy for me as President to declare war. I do not
have to fight, and neither do the gentlemen on the Hill who now clamour
for it. It is some poor farmer's boy, or the son of some poor widow away
off in some modest community, or perhaps the scion of a great family, who
will have to do the fighting and the dying. I will not resort to war
against Mexico until I have exhausted every means to keep out of this
mess. I know they will call me a coward and a quitter, but that will not
disturb me. Time, the great solvent, will, I am sure, vindicate this
policy of humanity and forbearance. Men forget what is back of this
struggle in Mexico. It is the age-long struggle of a people to come into
their own, and while we look upon the incidents in the foreground, let us
not forget the tragic reality in the background which towers above this
whole sad picture. The gentlemen who criticize me speak as if America were
afraid to fight Mexico. Poor Mexico, with its pitiful men, women, and
children, fighting to gain a foothold in their own land! They speak of the
valour of America. What is true valour? I would be just as much ashamed to
be rash as I would to be a coward. Valour is self-respecting. Valour is
circumspect. Valour strikes only when it is right to strike. Valour
withholds itself from all small implications and entanglements and waits
for the great opportunity when the sword will flash as if it carried the
light of heaven upon its blade."
As the President spoke, his eyes flashed and his lips quivered with the
deep emotion he felt. It was the first time he had unburdened himself and
laid bare his real feelings toward Mexico. Rising from his chair, he
walked toward the window of his study, the very window out of which
Lincoln had looked upon the Potomac and the hills of Virginia during the
critical days of the Civil War when he was receiving bad news about the
defeat of the Northern army. Continuing his talk, he said: "Tumulty, some
day the people of America will know why I hesitated to intervene in
Mexico. I cannot tell them now for we are at peace with the great power
whose poisonous propaganda is responsible for the present terrible
condition of affairs in Mexico. German propagandists are there now,
fomenting strife and trouble between our countries. Germany is anxious to
have us at war with Mexico, so that our minds and our energies will be
taken off the great war across the sea. She wishes an uninterrupted
opportunity to carry on her submarine warfare and believes that war with
Mexico will keep our hands off her and thus give her liberty of action to
do as she pleases on the high seas. It begins to look as if war with
Germany is inevitable. If it should come--I pray God it may not--I do not
wish America's energies and forces divided, for we will need every ounce
of reserve we have to lick Germany. Tumulty, we must try patience a little
longer and await the development of the whole plot in Mexico."
Did not the publication of the famous Zimmerman note show that German
intrigue was busy in Mexico?
Berlin, January 19, 1917.
On the first of February we intend to begin submarine warfare
unrestricted. In spite of this it is our intention to keep neutral
with the United States of America. If this attempt is not successful,
we propose an alliance with Mexico on the following basis: That we
shall make war together and together make peace. We shall give general
financial support and it is understood that Mexico is to reconquer the
lost territory in New Mexico, Texas and Arizona. The details are left
to you for settlement.
You are instructed to inform the President of Mexico of the above in
the greatest confidence as soon as it is certain that there will be an
outbreak of war with the United States, and suggest that the President
of Mexico, on his own initiative, should communicate with Japan,
suggesting adherence at once to this plan; at the same time offer to
mediate between Germany and Japan.
Please call to the attention of the President of Mexico that the
employment of ruthless submarine warfare now promises to compel
England to make peace in a few months.
ZIMMERMAN.
TO GERMAN MINISTER VON ECKHARDT,
Mexico City.
In the President's Flag Day address, delivered at Washington on June 14,
1917, appeared the following:
They [meaning Germany] sought by violence to destroy our industries
and arrest our commerce. They tried to incite Mexico to take up arms
against us and to draw Japan into an hostile alliance with her; and
that, not by indirection, but by direct suggestion _from the Foreign
Office at Berlin_.
As the storm of ridicule and criticism of his policy of watchful waiting
beat fiercely upon him, I often wondered if he felt the petty meanness
which underlay it, or was disturbed or dispirited by it. As the unkind
blows fell upon him, thick and fast from every quarter, he gave no
evidence to those who were close to him of any irritation, or of the deep
anger he must have felt at what appeared to be a lack of sympathy on the
part of the country toward the idealistic policy in the treatment of
Mexican affairs. Never for a single moment was he driven from the course
he had mapped out for himself. He had given his heart and soul to a great
humane task and he moved toward its consummation amid a hurricane of
protests and criticisms.
There was a time, however, when I thought he displayed chagrin and
disappointment at the obstacles placed in his path in settling the affairs
of Mexico. It was in a little speech delivered at the Brooklyn Navy Yard
on the occasion of the burial of the Marines who fell at Vera Cruz. The
following paragraph contained a note of sadness and even depression.
Perhaps, in the following words, he pictured his own loneliness and utter
dejection:
I never went into battle; I never was under fire; but I fancy there
are some things just as hard to do as to go under fire. I fancy that
it is just as hard to do your duty when men are sneering at you as
when they are shooting at you. When they shoot at you, they can only
take your natural life; when they sneer at you, they can wound your
living heart, and men who are brave enough, steadfast enough, steady
in their principles enough, to go about their duty with regard to
their fellow-men, no matter whether there are hisses or cheers, men
who can do what Rudyard Kipling in one of his poems wrote, "Meet with
triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same," are
men for a nation to be proud of. Morally speaking, disaster and
triumph are imposters. The cheers of the moment are not what a man
ought to think about, but the verdict of his conscience and of the
consciences of mankind.