Probably no President ever received so much personal abuse in his own
day as did Grover Cleveland. In time, however, his sterling integrity
and fundamental courage, his firm grasp of the higher administrative
duties of his office, won the approval of his countrymen, and a
repentant public sentiment has possibly gone too far in the other
direction of acclaiming his statesmanship. Unlike Blaine, Cleveland
thought soundly and consistently; but he was more obstinate, his vision
was often narrower, and he was notably lacking both in constructive
power and in tact, particularly in foreign relations. In his first
Administration, through his Secretary of State, Thomas F. Bayard,
Cleveland had negotiated fairly amicably with Great Britain, and when
he failed to secure the Senate's assent to a treaty on the irritating
question of the northeastern fisheries, he arranged a modus vivendi
which served for many years. In American affairs he opposed not only
the annexation of Hawaii but also the development of the spirit of
Pan-Americanism. He was, however, no more disposed than was Blaine to
permit infractions of that negative side of the Monroe Doctrine which
forbade European interference in America. His second Administration
brought to the forefront of world diplomacy an issue involving this
traditional principle.
The only European possession in South America at this time was Guiana,
fronting on the Atlantic north of Brazil and divided among France,
Holland, and Great Britain. Beyond British Guiana, the westernmost
division, lay Venezuela. Between the two stretched a vast tract of
unoccupied tropical jungle. Somewhere there must have been a boundary,
but where, no man could tell. The extreme claim of Great Britain would
have given her command of the mouth of the Orinoco, while that of
Venezuela would practically have eliminated British Guiana. Efforts to
settle this long-standing dispute were unavailing. Venezuela had from
time to time suggested arbitration but wished to throw the whole area
into court. Great Britain insisted upon reserving a minimum territory
and would submit to judicial decision only the land west of what
was known as the Schomburgh line of 1840. As early as 1876 Venezuela
appealed to the United States, "the most powerful and oldest of the
Republics of the new continent," for its "powerful moral support
in disputes with European nations." Several times the United States
proffered its good offices to Great Britain, but to no effect. The
satisfactory settlement of the question grew more difficult as time went
on, particularly after the discovery of gold in the disputed region had
given a new impulse to occupation.
President Cleveland took a serious view of this controversy because it
seemed to involve more than a boundary dispute. To his mind it called
into question the portion of Monroe's message which, in 1823, stated
that "the American continents... are henceforth not to be considered as
subjects for future colonization by any European powers." According
to this dictum, boundaries existed between all nations and colonies of
America; the problem was merely to find these boundaries. If a European
power refused to submit such a question to judicial decision, the
inference must be made that it was seeking to extend its boundaries.
In December, 1894, Cleveland expressed to Congress his hope that an
arbitration would be arranged and instructed his Secretary of State to
present vigorously to Great Britain the view of the United States.
Richard Olney of Boston, a lawyer of exceptional ability and of
the highest professional standing, was then Secretary of State. His
Venezuela dispatch, however, was one of the most undiplomatic documents
ever issued by the Department of State. He did not confine himself to
a statement of his case, wherein any amount of vigor would have been
permissible, but ran his unpracticed eye unnecessarily over the whole
field of American diplomacy. "That distance and three thousand miles of
intervening ocean make any permanent political union between a European
and an American state unnatural and inexpedient," may have been a
philosophic axiom to many in Great Britain as well as in the United
States, but it surely did not need reiteration in this state paper, and
Olney at once exposed himself to contradiction by adding the phrase,
"will hardly be denied." Entirely ignoring the sensitive pride of the
Spanish Americans and thinking only of Europe, he continued: "Today the
United States is practically sovereign on this continent, and its fiat
is law upon the subjects to which it confines its interposition."
The President himself did not run into any such uncalled-for
extravagance of expression, but his statement of the American position
did not thereby lose in vigor. When he had received the reply, of the
British Government refusing to recognize the interest of the United
States in the case, Cleveland addressed himself, on December 17, 1895,
to Congress. In stating the position of the Government of the United
States, he declared that to determine the true boundary line was its
right, duty, and interest. He recommended that the Government itself
appoint a commission for this purpose, and he asserted that this line,
when found, must be maintained as the lawful boundary. Should Great
Britain continue to exercise jurisdiction beyond it, the United
States must resist by every means in its power. "In making these
recommendations I am fully alive to the responsibility incurred, and
keenly realize all the consequences that may follow." Yet "there is no
calamity which a great nation can invite which equals that which follows
a supine submission to wrong and injustice and the consequent loss of
national self-respect and honor beneath which axe shielded and defended
a people's safety and greatness."
Perhaps no American document relating to diplomacy ever before made so
great a stir in the world. Its unexpectedness enhanced its effect, even
in the United States, for the public had not been sufficiently aware of
the shaping of this international episode to be psychologically prepared
for the imminence of war. Unlike most Anglo-American diplomacy, this
had been a long-range negotiation, with notes exchanged between the home
offices instead of personal conferences. People blenched at the thought
of war; stocks fell; the attention of the whole world was arrested. The
innumerable and intimate bonds of friendship and interest which would
thus have to be broken merely because of an insignificant jog in a
boundary remote from both the nations made war between the United States
and Great Britain seem absolutely inconceivable, until people realized
that neither country could yield without an admission of defeat both
galling to national pride and involving fundamental principles of
conduct and policy for the future.
Great Britain in particular stood amazed at Cleveland's position. The
general opinion was that peace must be maintained and that diplomats
must find a formula which would save both peace and appearances. Yet
before this public opinion could be diplomatically formulated, a new
episode shook the British sense of security. Germany again appeared as
a menace and, as in the case of Samoa, the international situation thus
produced tended to develop a realization of the kinship between Great
Britain and the United States. Early in January, 1896, the Jameson raid
into the Transvaal was defeated, and the Kaiser immediately telegraphed
his congratulations to President Krtiger. In view of the possibilities
involved in this South African situation, British public opinion
demanded that her diplomats maintain peace with the United States, with
or without the desired formula.
The British Government, however, was not inclined to act with undue
haste. It became apparent even to the most panicky that war with the
United States could not come immediately, for the American Commission of
Inquiry must first report. For a time Lord Salisbury hoped that Congress
would not support the President--a contingency which not infrequently
happened under Cleveland's Administration. On this question of foreign
relations, however, Congress stood squarely behind the President. Lord
Salisbury then toyed with the hope that the matter might be delayed
until Cleveland's term expired, in the hope he might have an opportunity
of dealing with a less strenuous successor.
In the summer of 1896, John Hay, an intimate friend of Major McKinley,
the probable Republican candidate for the presidency, was in England,
where he was a well-known figure. There he met privately Arthur J.
Balfour, representing Lord Salisbury, and Sir William Harcourt, the
leader of the Opposition. Hay convinced them that a change in the
Administration of his country would involve no retreat from the existing
American position. The British Government thereupon determined to yield
but attempted to cover its retreat by merging the question with one
of general arbitration. This proposal, however, was rejected, and Lord
Salisbury then agreed to "an equitable settlement" of the Venezuela
question by empowering the British Ambassador at Washington to begin
negotiations "either with the representative of Venezuela or with the
Government of the United States acting as the friend of Venezuela."
The achievement of the Administration consisted in forcing Great Britain
to recognize the interest of the United States in the dispute with
Venezuela, on the ground that Venezuela was one of the nations of the
Western Hemisphere. This concession practically involved recognition of
the interest of the United States in case of future disputes with other
American powers. The arbitration treaty thus arranged between Great
Britain and Venezuela under the auspices of the United States submitted
the whole disputed area to judicial decision but adopted the rule that
fifty years of occupation should give a sufficient title for possession.
The arbitration tribunal, which met in Paris in 1899, decided on a
division of the disputed territory but found that the claim of Great
Britain was, on the whole, more nearly correct than that of Venezuela.
Cleveland's startling and unconventional method of dealing with this
controversy has been explained by all kinds of conjectures. For example,
it has been charged that his message was the product of a fishing
trip on which whisky flowed too freely; on the other hand, it has been
asserted that the message was an astute political play for the thunder
of patriotic applause. More seriously, Cleveland has been charged by one
set of critics with bluffing, and by another with recklessly running
the risk of war on a trivial provocation. The charge of bluffing comes
nearer the fact, for President Cleveland probably had never a moment's
doubt that the forces making for peace between the two nations would be
victorious. If he may be said to have thrown a bomb, he certainly had
attached a safety valve to it, for the investigation which he proposed
could not but give time for the passions produced by his message to
cool. It is interesting to note in passing that delay for investigation
was a device which that other great Democrat, William Jennings Bryan,
Cleveland's greatest political enemy, sought, during his short term as
Secretary of State under President Wilson, to make universal in a series
of arbitration treaties--treaties which now bind the United States and
many other countries, how tightly no man can tell.
While, however, Cleveland's action was based rather on a belief in peace
than on an expectation of war, it cannot be dismissed as merely a
bluff. Not only was he convinced that the principle involved was worth
establishing whatever the cost might be, but he was certain that the
method he employed was the only one which could succeed, for in no other
way was it possible to wake England to a realization of the fact that
the United States was full-grown and imbued with a new consciousness of
its strength. So far was Cleveland's message from provoking war that it
caused the people of Great Britain vitally to realize for the first time
the importance of friendship with the United States. It marks a change
in their attitude toward things American which found expression not only
in diplomacy, but in various other ways, and which strikingly revealed
itself in the international politics of the next few years. Not that
hostility was converted into affection, but a former condescension gave
way to an appreciative friendliness towards the people of the United
States.
The reaction in America was somewhat different. Cleveland had united the
country upon a matter of foreign policy, not completely, it is true,
but to a greater degree than Blaine had ever succeeded in doing. More
important than this unity of feeling throughout the land, however,
was the development of a spirit of inquiry among the people. Suddenly
confronted by changes of policy that might bring wealth or poverty, life
or death, the American people began to take the foreign relations of
the United States more seriously than they had since the days of the
Napoleonic wars. Yet it is not surprising that when the Venezuela
difficulty had been settled and Secretary Olney and Sir Julian
Pauncefote, the British Ambassador, had concluded a general treaty of
arbitration, the Senate should have rejected it, for the lesson that
caution was necessary in international affairs had been driven home.
Time was needed for the new generation to formulate its foreign policy.