PRIVILEGES.
An ambassador enjoys unusual privileges from the time he enters until the time he leaves the country where he is sent, and these we will now briefly consider. They have been classified under the heads of inviolability and exterritoriality, though they may be considered together.
Inviolability means that “neither public authority nor private persons can use any force or do any violence to him, without offending against the law of nations”. Of course if he attempts any violence toward other individuals he becomes amenable to the local authorities.
Exterritoriality means the right while sojourning in a foreign country to remain subject to the laws of his own, in both criminal and civil jurisdiction.
These privileges are granted because it is thought that an ambassador cannot fully and freely represent his own country if he is liable to be interfered with by the state to which he is accredited. When carried out to their practical application some curious results are reached; for instance—
1. These privileges extend to his goods and his lodgings. “His house is a sanctuary—except in case of a gross crime—for himself and his retinue”. His official papers and archives are inviolate. He cannot shelter any fugitive from law, although even this—the right of asylum—was at one time general.
2. The courtesy of exemption from taxation is usually extended to ambassadors, as well as exemption from duties on all necessary articles of his household.
3. Owing to the inviolability of his property it is hard to collect a debt from an ambassador when he has a mind not to pay—a thing which has happened more than once.
4. The right to his own form of worship is granted to an ambassador and his retinue, even when his religion is not otherwise tolerated by the laws of the land. In this latter case it is sometimes provided that it must be simply “house worship—without bell, organ or other sign indicating to passengers in the street that a chapel is near by”;—“a native of the country cannot attend”, and the “chaplain must not appear abroad in his canonicals”.
5. Exemptions from local jurisdiction apply to the secretary of legation, the chaplain, physician, private secretary and even to domestic servants. They apply even to domestic servants who are natives of the country though in a limited degree.
Diplomatic Ball
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6. The jurisdiction of an ambassador over the members of his train is limited to minor matters. A criminal would be sent home for trial, the ambassador collecting and forwarding all the evidence.
I have purposely deferred the subject of the selection of diplomatic officers until after a consideration of the service itself, in order that we may the better understand what is needed in such an officer.
It will be observed that the requirements for a successful diplomat are wholly unlike those for a consul. To be successful in the consular service one must first of all be a good business man. One should have a mind for details, a quick and keen commercial insight, an acquaintance with the material facts of life, and the proper training would be that of the merchant or the journalist, supplemented in some cases by that of the lawyer and jurist. There is a definite, body of information which a consul should have at his command, a body of rules whose authority he must not transgress, and in the transaction of his business if he looks to precedent it is only for present guidance.
The diplomat on the other hand should first of all be a statesman. To belong to the first rank, along with the greatest in the world, he must have the gift of prophecy and the grace to keep it quiet. In the pursuit of a great national ambition he should have wisdom to foresee, genius to plan and tact to execute. His study is of men, the history and the political institutions of men, the history and tendencies of his own times, and the capacities and characteristics of different races. These things are his science, furnishing the basis for his art, that art which Bacon called the highest of all—the art of “working” men. He cannot, in the nature of the case, expect to receive very definite instruction from his government, unless it be upon a specific line of policy and an acquaintance with the treaties between the two countries. Precedents are of value to him as a guide to present action, but more especially as affecting future policy; for a nation’s foreign policy is influential among other nations and satisfactory at home in proportion as it is self-consistent and just. In great international emergencies the diplomat sometimes does the work of a military chieftain, but with these differences: his means are peaceful, his warfare is necessarily in secret, the results are bloodless, and, when all is done, the skill with which he has fought is seldom recognized except by the historian.
Fortunately the practical problem of choosing men for the diplomatic service does not contemplate deeds of such momentous character—at least not for beginners—but it does indicate the magnitude of the scale of operations sometimes carried on by this service which makes history no less than do military campaigns. It is evident, moreover, that no course of study however long can prepare a man for the diplomatic service, except in an elementary way. It goes without saying that such elementary preparation should be made before entering the service, and that it should include among other essentials a knowledge of French, Spanish or German, especially the first which has been called the language of diplomacy.
But after all, the only satisfactory preparation for the diplomatic service is experience. Some years ago the United States began a system, pursued more or less by other nations, of appointing young men to various legations as attachés without salary. In this capacity they became acquainted with diplomats and the “ins and outs” of diplomacy, and incidentally gave their superiors a chance to discover their fitness or unfitness for the service. The advantages of such a system, which has been abandoned except as to the appointment of military and naval attachés, must be apparent to all, and it is hard to see why it should not be reinstated.
In the absence of definite training and knowledge to furnish a basis for examination the diplomatic service is either exceptionally fortunate or exceptionally unfortunate. As long as the good of the service is kept chiefly in view in the selection of candidates, even though the service be regarded as political, it is well that technical knowledge cannot interfere seriously with the appointment of the most promising candidate. On the other hand, when the service is regarded as a legitimate means of rewarding political friends it will suffer all the more for the want of a restraint such as the examination affords, just as with the consular service, only in a greater degree.
Diplomatic officers are more apt to change with the change of administration than are consular officers, for the reason that the service itself is more political in character. Some authorities go so far as to justify the change on the ground that the administration ought to be unrestricted in carrying out its policy, and therefore should be represented abroad by those of its own political faith just as it is in the cabinet. It must be admitted that there is a great deal to justify this contention, but it should be said that the analogy with the President’s cabinet is hardly fair; for in the latter case the parties are the units, and we recognize the right of the stronger party to full executive power; but in the case of the ambassadors the nation is the unit which he represents, not the party. Theoretically the change of diplomatic officials with the change of administration cannot be justified, and practically a sweeping change is certainly demoralizing to our interests. In the most important positions, however, it may sometimes be best that the President be allowed to substitute those of his own party.
With the present system of recruiting the diplomatic service the most essential point is to lodge the testing power in the hands of capable and incorruptible men, so that those who are “appointed for examination” will not necessarily pass because of the influence which supports them.
I will now leave the subject with you, merely remarking in closing that diplomacy, especially American diplomacy, which lies outside of and beyond our present theme, is of fascinating interest and will well repay careful study. Our diplomatic history is brief, but it is glorious, chiefly because it has made for righteousness and peace, not to ourselves only but to all the world.
“Professor, will you kindly give the remainder of the articles of the Congress of Vienna”?
“Certainly. Besides the first and the last which have already been given, they are as follows:
“Art. II. Ambassadors, legates, or nuncios only have the representative character; (that is, can represent the person of the sovereign).
“Art. III. Diplomatic agents on an extraordinary mission have not, on that account, any superiority of rank; (e. g., our commissioners at the Hague conference would not for that reason outrank our diplomatic representative there, supposing the latter not to be a commissioner).
“Art. IV. Diplomatic officers shall take precedence in their respective classes according to the date of the official notification of their arrival. The present regulation shall not cause any innovation with regard to the representative of the Pope.
“Art. V. A uniform mode shall be determined in each state for the reception of diplomatic agents of each class.
“Art. VI. Relations of consanguinity or of family alliance between courts confer no precedence on their diplomatic agents. The same rule applies also to political alliances.
“Art. VII. In acts or treaties between several powers which grant alternate precedence, the order which is to be observed in the signatures shall be decided by lot between the ministers.”
Q. “Are these the only international rules concerning diplomats”?
A. “They are the only ones given in the Diplomatic and Consular Register”.
Q. “Are they universally accepted”?
A. “By all except Turkey, which recognizes but three grades—ambassadors, ministers and chargés d’affaires”.
Q. “Suppose we send a diplomat of the second rank to any country: have we a right to receive one of the same grade in return”?
A. “Certainly, and no more. Italy, however, sends us an ambassador, while our representative to Italy is a minister”.
Q. “Professor, you will allow me to disagree with you upon the propriety of wearing a uniform”?
A. “Certainly, what have you to say”?
Q. “Well, nothing new; it is only that as a people we have taken a wise stand in favor of simplicity as opposed to meaningless conventionalities, and that it should characterize all our official relations with foreign powers, otherwise we would seem to compromise our position”.
A. “I’ll admit,” said the Professor, “that yours is the view ordinarily taken and officially adopted in our country. But I still maintain that it is a wrong view because it is founded upon a wrong principle, namely that ‘the rule should emanate from home’. Why, suppose you go to visit a neighbor and you find that the rules of his household are somewhat unlike your own: would you not as far as possible try to conform to them? Of course you would; and the complaisance that is to be expected between neighbors is a duty as between ambassadors, because it is their business to remove friction, not to create it. Oh, well, these are trifles and need not be dwelt upon were it not that they are conspicuous trifles.
“But the mention of these matters of etiquette reminds me of a suggestion by Schuyler, to the effect that a bureau of ceremonies should be added to the State Department—just as in Paris there is a Service du Protocol—both to facilitate its correspondence and to serve as an intermediary between the Department and foreign diplomats in Washington. There are many reasons—small in themselves, but rather weighty taken together, why this suggestion is worth heeding. The Master of Ceremonies plays a very important as well as a conspicuous part in nearly every capital except Washington; and perhaps he is all the more necessary with us because we have so little ceremony”.
After dismission a group of ladies was observed in earnest conversation waiting for a word with the Professor, who soon advanced with: “Do you wish to speak to me”?
“Oh, we were just wondering”, said one of them, “why women wouldn’t make good ambassadors”.
“They do”, said the Professor, “and excellent ones, too, for women are generally diplomats both by nature and training”.
“I never heard of one’s being appointed”.
“No, it is always her husband that is appointed; but this is dangerous ground. It is a fact well known in the service that a discreet wife can almost double her husband’s efficiency. In the first place she hears as much gossip as he does—as much, I say—and if she can keep it, why that is the best way that a diplomat can learn what is going on. But aside from court gossip, a great deal of an ambassador’s influence depends upon his position in society and this in turn depends very much upon the kind of wife he has. An indiscreet wife, one who is over fond of gossip, or under fond of society, might be a positive disqualification for the best kind of ambassador. It should go without saying that the wife should be patriotic; only sometimes diplomats will marry abroad. On this point Schuyler says that Bismarck always insisted that German diplomats should marry German wives. Women are very important social factors at every capital, and even sovereigns find that they are to be reckoned with. A good story is told by Schuyler which illustrates this fact and which shows at the same time what diplomacy can do in small things. I give it as nearly as I recall in his words:
“The court of Vienna is bound by very strict rules of etiquette, which not even the Emperor feels at liberty to overstep. And the society of Vienna has adopted still stricter ones. In order for an Austrian lady to be able to appear at court, she must show at least four generations of nobility. It is said that some years ago when the first bourgeois ministers were appointed in Austria, while they were officially invited to a court ball, their wives were omitted. The ladies were indignant and brought a sufficient pressure to bear upon the husbands to induce them to resign their offices if their wives were not invited to the ball. The Emperor was in a dilemma, for he could not dispense with such useful ministers, neither could he override the rules of court etiquette. He adopted, however, a very simple expedient—he ennobled the long-deceased great-grandfathers of the ladies in question, which thus gave them the personal right to appear”.
“Have diplomats nothing better to do than simply to get along peaceably with each other”?
“It must be confessed that in spite of the grand part they are expected to play upon occasion, a large share of their time and attention is devoted to the art of being agreeable—not a mean art in its way, though it demands attention to trifles after a fashion that would be exasperating to some minds.”
“Then I understand that it is in this exasperating art, the minor tactics of diplomacy, that women have the credit of excelling”?
“It is in this that they certainly do excel; and indeed in major tactics or world politics one need not ask for a better diplomat for her day and her nation than ‘Good Queen Bess’, not to mention other illustrious examples”.
“Well”, said one of the ladies, as they turned to go, “since to be an ambassador a woman must either be born one or marry one, why we might as well settle down to minor tactics where we are; so have a care, Professor, for we may not have learned the art of being agreeable”.
LECTURE
V
UNCLE SAM AND EXPANSION.
Uncle Sam has lately gone abroad after an entirely new fashion—new at least to him.
He went to Hawaii only after repeated and urgent invitation; hesitating because he thought it was against his principles.
He went to Cuba to help the people to get rid of their rubbish.
He went to Porto Rico because he thought that he was needed.
He went to the Philippines on a business trip, and is there yet. He will probably make up his mind to stay there though he is still halting a little. In less than a year he will have decided, and in the meantime he will do some hard thinking about it, just as he has been doing since May 1, 1898.
It is to this problem that we will now address ourselves—for it is still a problem with some—not to questions of method in administration, which should be determined by experience, but to the ethical, political and practical considerations involved in the term expansion, or if you please, imperialism.
First of all, the occupation of the Philippines by the United States is regarded by the average American citizen as a moral question. “Is it right to extend our authority over the Philippines, even, if necessary, by force of arms”? This is the question we all have been asking ourselves, the question that the “anti-imperialists” have promptly answered in the negative, while the great majority of opinion seems to be slowly swinging in the opposite direction, in agreement with the present administration.
But the answer to this question, startling as it may seem, is that it is not primarily an ethical question, whatever ethical phases it may have. “What,” you ask, “do not all governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed?” Well, let us see about that; and in order to see clearly and dispassionately let us get outside of America as it were, so that we may look at this proposition from a convenient distance.
People sometimes make mistakes. Whole nations sometimes make the same mistake. Indeed, on a fundamental proposition a whole civilization during successive periods of history covering many centuries has been known to swing from one extreme to the other and backward again. Such movements are often likened to the swing of a mighty pendulum, or better still, to the rising and narrowing coils of a spiral.
Naturally, one of the subjects upon which men have thought the most and disagreed the most and therefore made the most mistakes is the relation of the individual to the state. Less than three centuries ago one of the fundamental maxims of government was that the individual exists for the state and not the state for the individual. This is one extreme. Up to the time of Rousseau there was no marked philosophical change upon this subject on the continent of Europe. With him and those after him began that marvelous reaction—that tidal wave of philosophic thought and popular conviction away from absolutism and in the direction of the rights of man. If this movement should reach its climax in the opposite extreme it would mean anarchy—and that is what it reached in the French Revolution.
It was but a few years before its climax, however, that our own Declaration of Independence was written, the writers whereof were thoroughly in sympathy with the movement toward the rights of man. Hence we hear in America the calm statement, “We believe that all men are by nature free and equal”, while in France we hear the frenzied cry, “Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!”
The individual has at last secured his long coveted freedom. But it is only to be confronted with a still greater question, namely: What is he to do with his freedom? How is he to use it?
Well, what has he done with it? In America, as elsewhere, notwithstanding his political creed, he has wisely decided that the insane must not enjoy either freedom or equality with other men. No more can criminals; no more do women. Why? If all have a right to these things, who dares take it away?
This brings us to a point beyond the statement of the Declaration, a point, however, that must have been in the minds of the writers, namely, that