THROUGH FOREIGN EYES
Praise enough
To fill the ambition of a private man,
That Chatham’s language was his mother tongue
And Wolfe’s great name compatriot with his own.
Cowper.
Travelling about the world before the Great War, no one could fail to notice that the name of Mr. Lloyd George had already become an ensign. Men had begun to apply it to that particular type of statesman, becoming happily less rare, who take risks on behalf of the “common people.” It had become a way of classifying a statesman to speak of him as “Our Lloyd George.” This was especially the case with little nations. In Norway, for instance, during the winter of 1913-14, I found that that remarkable social reformer, Mr. Castberg, was generally spoken of as the “Norwegian Lloyd George”; and on meeting him I was surprised to find how closely he was modelling his policy on that of the British statesman. His chief aspiration was to meet Mr. Lloyd George and discuss with him his own schemes for simplifying and enlarging Norwegian social insurance and reforming their land system.
This was but one example of a very general tendency. There was another remarkable fact. Those who met and talked with Socialists either in France or in Germany during 1912-14, must have been astonished to discover that, in speaking of Great Britain, their thoughts were concerned not with any British Socialist leader, but almost always with Mr. Lloyd George. The reason of this was simple, but illuminating. European Socialism had for half a century been hand-cuffed to an impracticable idealism. Here was a man who achieved things. He might be an opportunist and a compromiser. Well, then, there was something to be said for opportunism and compromise. For the great thing was that, while all the idealists were still dreaming, this man was awake and doing.[[146]]
Apart from the Socialists, there was one European statesman who, long before the war, already realised Mr. Lloyd George as a possible European force. That was the great Cretan Greek, M. Venizelos. The instinctive mutual regard and respect of these two men is one of the most remarkable things in latter-day politics. There was telepathy in it. Across the length of Europe they seemed to have caught some message from one another even before they were acquainted. It was Mr. Lloyd George who especially urged on the Greek Government that M. Venizelos should come to the London Conference of 1912. It was on that visit that they met at the house of a friend and had a long conversation. They found much in common—a common hope for the little nations, a common belief in the unity and federation of the Balkan States as the one hope of the Near East.
It was after this that M. Venizelos said to a friend—“Mr. Lloyd George will save Europe.”
It was only gradually that Mr. Lloyd George emerged in Western Europe as a commanding figure in the world war. It was the French who first among European nations discovered him as a European. This was partly, no doubt, from some instinctive sympathy between the Gaul and the Celt; for very large numbers of Frenchmen—the Bretons—are actually still Celtic—even Welsh—both in thought and language.
It was also that Mr. Lloyd George, in his great munitions campaign, took so many ideas from the French and realised in a moment, across the gulf of language, the extraordinary swiftness and power of the French mind, their amazing courage and capacity in enterprise and organisation. We have seen how, early in the war, he sat at the feet of the French Socialist Minister, M. Albert Thomas; and how, at the Boulogne Conference of June, 1915, he learned from the French gunners. It would be foolish to pretend that Mr. Lloyd George talks French very well. But he has learnt to understand their spoken language when it is uttered by masters like M. Briand and M. Thomas.
But it was not till 1916 that Mr. Lloyd George stood out to the French with a bright, particular light of his own. Amid the doubts and hesitations of their own politicians they caught a glimpse of a man across the Channel who dared to lead—who ventured to tell the people the unpleasant truths, and to direct them to unpleasant duties.
“A speaker full of free and generous inspiration,” says M. Georges Leygues in the Evènement of July 7th, 1916, greeting his appointment to the Ministry of War, “he never fails in his perception of realities, and he goes straight to the fact. Passionate interpreter of the soul of his people, which he knows so well in all its phases—living incarnation of the ardent Welsh race, he enjoys a real ascendency over the masses. He can make them understand and accept the length of the effort necessary to shake that which most offends the proud people of the West—that boastful and brutal barrack-yard spirit under which the German military caste designed to bring the free mind of the world.”
In December, 1916, during the great ministerial crisis which led to the Lloyd George Premiership, these French writers saw far more clearly than the journalists of London what was at stake. In London, on both sides, the writers and politicians were too much absorbed in the personal and party issue—they regarded it too much as a conflict of newspaper “combines.” In France, on the other hand, the journalists all realised that the difference turned round great issues—great questions of method in the conduct of the war. Here is what that great journal, Le Temps, wrote on December 7th, 1917:
“The English ministerial crisis is just a conflict, at an acute stage, of two principles and methods of government. One represents the normal maintenance of traditions, or rather of conventions, which have stood the proof of long administration—the ordinary march of the governmental machine. According to this view, that machine can give us its full value, if only all its wheels are strengthened without being modified. The other view holds that there must be new simplifications of the machinery. The driving power must be organised and concentrated in one control—and that a control of energy. The time of good intentions has passed. This is no longer an affair of ‘Wait and see.’ Mr. Lloyd George takes his stand clearly and simply on the side of decisive action.”
The Temps was not alone. Philippe Millet, writing in L’Œuvre on the same day, showed that he had a glimpse of the same issue:
“It is necessary to look beyond the conflict of persons. Then one discovers a practically unanimous desire to constitute at last a true War Government. What England has in her mind is the formation of a sort of Committee of Public Safety.”
England, he perceived, had become more revolutionary than France.
“Conscription had made a greater change in England because it was in itself a revolution. Beginning later than ourselves, the English have taken on the habit of changing their political organisation at great speed and as fast as the war compels them; and their acquired pace is probably in this stage superior to ours. It is in England rather than in France that one sees at this moment the spirit of Carnot reviving.”
Here surely was a very profound political observation. With the same keenness of insight M. Clemenceau, writing on July 1st, 1917, in L’Homme Enchaîné, saw in Mr. Lloyd George a great political experimentalist adapting his course always to the actual events of the war:
“The English Prime Minister is, above all things, a man of action—one of those who, under the active impulse of living thought, apply themselves to one task only—and that is to bring order and method into the plans and resolves which come to them from a rigorous scrutiny of realities.”
Other French journalists, still seeing these incidents more clearly from across the water, rejoiced at the change on the broadest possible lines. “The state of war,” wrote M. Gustave Téry, “demands that all deliberations should be brief and decisions prompt. Now how can they possibly be so, if all power is exercised by two dozen Ministers who pass half their time in discussion and the other half in deploring their impotence?” Gustave Hervé was even more outspoken in La Victoire (December 7th, 1916):
“Roughly the veils are torn aside in all the allied countries; and from Petrograd to Paris, from London to Rome, the whole world turns anxiously towards their Governments, crying, ‘We want leaders!’
“Lloyd George has been the first in our great countries of the West to hear the cry of the people.”
M. Fitzmaurice, in the Figaro, foresaw how the crisis would end:
“Perhaps he will not have the support of all his colleagues of to-day, some of whom are precisely those whose delays and decisions he was arraigning, and from whose hands he wished to take the War Council; but he will have with him all the men of action of all the parties who recognise in him a true leader because they have seen him at work and they know that they can count on him. He will have with him all the English people and all the Allies.”
The Matin on the same day (December 7th) analysed the position as follows:
“In reality the conflict which divides the English political world is nothing new in the history of peoples. In moments of great gravity, even of less gravity than the present time, there has often been felt this imperious necessity to trust the management of affairs to men of energy. Even revolutions have arisen, in England itself, and several times, from the discontent created by Ministers who were excellent in moments of calm but feeble in serious crises.”
The Journal wrote thus:
“One element dominates the situation. It Is the preponderating position of Mr. Lloyd George. No Prime Minister could govern to-day without asking not so much for his collaboration as for his directions. Lloyd George is the soul of England at war, and the principal combative arm of Great Britain. Why keep him then in the second political place? The brain that conceives ought also to be the will that directs.”
It is, indeed, a remarkable proof of the interest taken by Frenchmen to-day in the personality of Mr. Lloyd George that perhaps the best of all the shorter sketches of his career has been written by M. Paul Louis Hervier and published by that enterprising magazine, Je Sais Tout, in its issue of April 15th, 1917.
To-day, indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that in France Mr. Lloyd George is the best known and loved of all European statesmen—not even excluding the statesmen of France itself.
Or turn to another splendid European Ally—Italy. There, too, Mr. Lloyd George is well appreciated as a leader in the Entente Alliance. Here is a passage from the Secolo in December, 1916:
Once more we see Lloyd George, the watchful, the innovator, the inaugurator of new ideas. He has known how, in the country classic for its individualism, to strengthen and enlarge the sphere of State action. His first political experiments from 1906 to 1914 were all directed to destroy the laissez-faire system, and to substitute for it the direct and co-ordinated action of the State, especially when the action of the State attacked the privileges of the rich classes. To-day Lloyd George seeks to bring into being a veritable “War Socialism.”
The Giornale d’Italia took the same line:
In comparison with the preceding administration, the new Government is distinguished for its firmness of decision. England takes another step along the path of warlike evolution. . . . Lloyd George’s power is the power of a warrior, who is determined to subordinate every private interest, that the interest of the whole nation may prevail. . . . He voices the conscience of the whole British Empire, which fully realises that every barrier must be overturned, every obstacle overcome, that stands in the way of the development of those resources for war without which it is impossible to beat the enemy.
The Idea Nazionale echoed the same view:
There is a new feeling among the Governments of the Entente—a new determination to conquer “without the aid of time.” The old Governments were characterised by their conviction that time was a substantial ally. This constituted an element of weakness. The speech of Lloyd George, however, is an authentic interpretation of the signs of the times. . . .
In an interview with the Morning Post in December, 1916, that remarkable Italian, Signor Bissolato, expressed these views:
“You ask me what I think of Lloyd George? That is tantamount to asking me what I think of England. It is rare in history that a nation has found itself as perfectly identified with one man as England is to-day with Lloyd George. The world, enemies and friends included, stands amazed by the energy Lloyd George displays in dealing with the huge difficulties that the war has raised. But few know that in the energy of this one man is apparent the energy of the whole English nation. What is particularly fortunate is his decisive arrival to power at this juncture. I say this because if a nation at such critical times as these does not find the man who is destined to lead it, it runs the danger of remaining like the giant who cannot find a weapon to fight with in a conflict which is to decide his fate. . . . England’s good fortune in having found Lloyd George is the good fortune of the whole Entente.”
Let us cross from Europe to our new and splendid Ally, the United States. There the career of Mr. Lloyd George has always been followed with the closest interest. There was a touch of enterprise—a salt savour—about his Budget that took the fancy of a country always in love with daring. The quick and observant journalists who watch affairs in England on behalf of the American democracy were already warning their people that Mr. Lloyd George was putting them out of date. In a very remarkable sketch of Mr. Lloyd George’s land proposals sent to the American Press in April of 1912 by Mr. James Creelman, he told them that England was on the verge of a revolution that would make America look old-fashioned.
“These are stirring and epoch-making times in Old England.
“The old and powerful order of things is about to pass away.”
And in his bright American way he depicted the English aristocracy crying out:
“Oh! for a way to get rid of the grey-eyed, smiling little Welsh demon who sits at the Imperial Treasury planning new taxes on wealth and land; who puts evil ideas of social justice into the head of the calm, keen, adroit Prime Minister and all the rest of the Cabinet, and who has bewitched the once humble and contented British people until they no longer reverence or respect orthodoxy or the nobility and upper classes!”
Mr. Lloyd George has always been fully as interesting to the leading men of America. When they visit England, it is he whom they most desire to see and to meet. President Wilson looks at the world with a slower, calmer gaze, and arrives at his conclusions very much more gradually.
But President Roosevelt always held Mr. Lloyd George in a fierce admiration, not unmingled with envy for his success in carrying with him a militant democracy. Mr. Roosevelt wrote shortly before his death as follows to a public man in his country:
“Give my heartiest regards to Lloyd George. Do tell him I admire him immensely. I have always fundamentally agreed with his social programme, but I wish it supplemented by Lord Roberts’s external programme. Nevertheless, my agreement with him in programme is small compared with the fact that I so greatly admire the character he is now showing in this great crisis. It is often true that the only way to render great services is by willingness on the part of the statesman to lose his future, or, at any rate, his present position in political life, just exactly as the soldier may have to pay with his physical life in order to render service in battle.”
As to our own far-flung Empire, there never has been much doubt about their views in regard to Mr. Lloyd George.
There are enough Welshmen in Canada to see to that Dominion. Sir Wilfrid Laurier, in a letter of introduction written a year before his death, wrote:
“Mr. M. is one of your most ardent admirers; and if you do not know it let me tell you that their number in this country is legion.”
There he certainly spoke the truth.
Sir Richard Flavelle, the famous Canadian financier, was present in London during the great financial crisis. On returning to Canada, in a speech at Ottawa on September 26th, 1916, he spoke as follows:
“During those days the men who met the Chancellor (Mr. Lloyd George) in Committee were struck with one or two personal characteristics. One of the noted ones was the man’s self-effacement. He sought for no glory for himself. He sought for no recognition for himself. One of the early evidences of the measure which he had taken of the situation was found, by the gentlemen who waited upon him, that Mr. Austen Chamberlain sat by his side. He crossed over to the other side of the House, and he said—‘I need your assistance.’ ”
Less expected than the praise of Canada is the admiration of India. Mr. Lloyd George has never visited India, and he would not claim any special knowledge of India. But India is the country of the poor man; and the poor man all over the world has heard in his speeches a new call of hope. To him Mr. Lloyd George seems a light in great darkness, the glimmering of a new dawn. Writing before the war, the Indian Patriot said:
“Of all the statesmen at the head of affairs in England to-day no one exercises the imagination of India so much as Mr. Lloyd George. He is not known as ‘Mr.’ here, but has gone over to the ranks of greatness, and is called simply ‘Lloyd George.’ His force and his earnestness always appeal to the imagination. His speech is carefully read and treasured up. The cry of India is—‘When shall we have a Lloyd George over here?’ and the story of his pensions for the old, his insurance for the sick has become a legend from the West.
“When will he come as our Viceroy?” is what a poor man asked the writer. And he was disappointed to be told that he may not come at all. ‘But then Mr. Lloyd George has many followers, and any one of them, trained as he is, may come!’ And here was consolation!”
“They all love him, and are ready to lay down life for him; and all because he has done so much for the poor.” That is the verdict of India, where kindness to the poor is a first call on all religions, and not a pious aspiration controlled by the Poor Law.
Then there are the little “Neutrals.” They ought, by all the rules, to have seen the best of the game. There is a remarkable article in the Journal de Genève of May 15th, 1917, which seems to embody the judgment of the most cautious and level-headed of all the neutral observers of the war:
“Mr. Lloyd George has been called ‘the Prime Minister of Europe.’ There is truth in that utterance. Of all the statesmen who exercise to-day an influence over the destinies of the world, Mr. Lloyd George is the most attractive, the most personal, the most wilful, the most audacious. More than all the others, he sees the future and prepares for it.
“He has two talents which complete his outfit. He knows how to will, and he knows how to speak.”
Finally, there is one tribute that comes from abroad to Mr. Lloyd George which certainly ought not to be omitted from this survey:
Of all British statesmen, he was, during the war, the best abused in the enemy Press.
[146] A remarkable instance of this comes to hand. Prince Kropotkin, in addressing the Moscow Conference (August 1917), told the Russian Socialists that there was more Socialism in Mr. Lloyd George’s speeches than in all their dreams.