America's Neutrality
By Count Albert Apponyi
[From THE NEW YORK TIMES, March 28, 1915.]
The letter which follows was sent by Count Albert Apponyi to Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, and was written in the latter part of last month in Budapest. Count Apponyi, who is one of the most distinguished of contemporary European statesmen, was President of the Hungarian Parliament from 1872 to 1904. He was formerly Minister of Public Instruction, Privy Councillor, Member of the Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague, and Member of the Interparliamentary Union.
I have been greatly interested in your account of American neutrality in the present European crisis. I must confess that I had seen it in a somewhat different light before and that some of the facts under our notice still appear to me as hardly concordant with the magnificent attitude of impartiality, nay, not even with the international duties of neutrality, which intellectual and official America professes to keep.
We cannot explain to ourselves that a neutral power should suffer the selling of arms and ammunition by its citizens to one of the belligerent parties, when no such selling to the other party is practically feasible; we cannot understand why America should meekly submit to the dictates of England, declaring all foodstuffs and manufacturing materials contraband of war, with not even a show of right and with the clear and openly proclaimed intention of starving Germany and Austria-Hungary; why, on the other hand, America should use an almost threatening language against Germany, and against Germany alone, when the latter country announces reprisals against the English trade, which, under given circumstances, can be considered only as acts of legitimate self-defense against an enemy who chooses to wage war not on our soldiers only, but on our women and children, too.
With all the respect we feel for the United States, we cannot find this attitude of their Government either fair or dignified. I offer these remarks in no spirit of uncalled-for criticism, but because I see how much the moral authority of the United States and their splendid situation as the providential peace makers of some future—alas! still far off—day has been impaired by the aforementioned proceedings. We cannot help considering them as so many acts of ill-disguised hostility against ourselves and of compliance with our foes. How can you expect, then, to have your good offices accepted with confidence by both belligerent parties when the times are ripe for them? It seems like the throwing away of a magnificent opportunity, and I think that those who, like yourself, cherish for your country the noble ambition of being some day the restorer of peace, should exert themselves to prevent practices which, if continued, would disable her to play any such part.
In your letter you strike the keynote of what I cannot help considering the partiality of Americans for the Entente powers. It is the idea that "in the western area of conflict, at least, there is an armed clash between the representatives of dynastic institutions and bureaucratic rule on the one hand with those of representative government and liberal institutions on the other." I can understand that it impresses some people that way, but I beg to enter a protest against this interpretation of the conflict.
Liberal or less liberal institutions have nothing to do with it in the west; the progress of democracy in Germany will not be stopped by her victory, it will rather be promoted by it, because the masses are conscious of bearing the burden of war and of being the main force of its vigorous prosecution, and they are enlightened and strong enough to insist on a proper reward. Rights cannot be denied to those who fulfilled duties involving self-sacrifice of the sublimest kind with unflinching devotion. No practical interest of democracy then is involved in the conflict of the western powers.
As to their representing liberal institutions in a higher or lower degree, I am perfectly willing to admit England's superior claims in that respect, but I am not at all inclined to recognize such superiority in modern France, republic though she calls herself. The omnipresence and omnipotence of an obtruding bureaucratic officialism is just what it has been under the old monarchy; religious oppression has only changed sides, but it still flourishes as before. In former times the Roman Catholic religion was considered as a State religion and in her name were dissent and Freemasonry oppressed; today atheism is the official creed, and on its behalf are Catholic believers oppressed.
Separation of Church and State, honestly planned and loyally fulfilled in America has been perverted in modern France into a network of vexations and unfair measures against the Church and her faithful servants; the same term is used and this misleads you to cover widely different meanings. In a word, it is a perfect mistake to consider modern France as the "sweet land of liberty" which America is. A German citizen, with less show of political rights, enjoys more personal freedom than is granted to a French one, if he happens to differ from the ruling mentality.
So stand things in the western area of conflict. But how about the east? You are kind enough to admit in your letter that "from this (the aforementioned) standpoint of course the appearance of Russia among the allies is an anomaly and must be explained on other grounds." Anomaly is a rather tame word to characterize the meaning of this appearance of Russia. I should hardly designate it by this term.
She does not "appear among the allies." She is the leading power among them; it is her war, as Mr. Tsvolski, the Russian Ambassador to Paris, very properly remarked: "C'est ma guerre." She planned it, she gave Austria-Hungary no chance to live on peaceful terms with her neighbors, she forced it upon us, she drew France into it by offering her a bait which that poor country could not resist, she created the situation which England considered as her best opportunity for crushing Germany. I must repeat it over and over again: it is in its origin a Russian war, with a clearly outlined Russian program of conquest.
Here, then, you have a real clash between two principles; not shades of principles as these may subsist between Germany and her western foes, but principles in all their essential features; not between different tints of gray, but between black and white, between affirmation and negation; affirmation of the principle of human dignity, liberty, safety, and negation of the same; western evolution and eastern reaction.
I wonder why those prominent Americans who are so deeply impressed by the comparatively slight shades of liberalism differentiating Germany from England and France are not struck by the absolute contrast existing between Muscovitism and western civilized rule as represented by Austria-Hungary and Germany; that they overlook the outstanding fact that while in the western area the conflict has nothing whatever to do with the principles embodied in the home policy of the belligerents, in the east, on the other hand, these principles will in truth be affected by the results of war, since a Russian victory, followed by a Russian conquest, would mean the retrogression of western institutions and the corresponding expansion of eastern ones over a large area and large numbers of men.
It is the consciousness of fighting in this war which has been forced upon us, against the direst calamity threatening our kind and on behalf of the most precious conquests of progress and civilization, which enhances our moral force so as to make it unconquerable. The hope which I expressed in my first letter, that Serbia's doom would soon be fulfilled, has been prostrated by the mistakes of an over-confident Commander in Chief; but that means postponement only and does not alter the prospects of war in their essentials.
Good progress is achieved in the campaign against Russia; a chapter of it may be brought to a happy close before long. The spirit of the country shows no symptom of weakening; it is really wonderful what a firm resolve pervades our whole people, though every man between twenty and forty-two stands in the field, and though the losses are frightful. Economically we hold out easily; the expenses of war are defrayed by inner loans, which give unexpected results; every bit of arable land is tilled as in time of peace, the old, the women and the half-grown youths doing the work of their absent supporters, neighbors assisting each other in a spirit of brotherhood truly admirable. In cases of urgent need we have the prisoners of war, whose number increased to nearly 300,000 (in Austria-Hungary alone) and to whom it is a real boon to find employment in the sort of work they are accustomed to.
The manufacturing interest, of course, suffers severe losses; but the number of the unemployed is rather less than usual, since a greater part of the "hands" is absorbed by the army. In a word, though the sufferings of war are keenly felt, they are less severe than had been expected, and there is not the smallest indication of a break-down. The area of Germany, Austria, and Hungary taken as a whole is self-supporting with regard to foodstuffs. The English scheme of starving us is quite as silly as it is abominable. England can, of course, inflict severe losses on our manufacturers by closing the seas against their imports and exports; but this is not a matter of life and death, such as the first reprisals of Germany, if successful, may prove to England.
Generally speaking, it seems likely that England will be caught in the net of her own intrigue. She did not scruple to enlist the services of Japan against her white enemies, but this act of treachery will be revenged upon herself. The latest proceedings of Japan against China can have one meaning only—the wholesale expulsion of the white man from Eastern Asia. The Japs do not care one straw who wins in Europe; they seized upon their own opportunity for their own purposes. England only gets her deserts; but how do Americans feel about it? Can America be absolved from a certain amount of responsibility for what may soon prove imminent danger to herself? Has not her partiality for England given encouragement to methods of warfare unprecedented in the history of civilized nations and fruitful of evil consequences to neutral nations?
To us, in our continental position, all this means much less than it means to you. It does not endanger our prospects. We feel comparatively stronger every day. Our losses, though enormous, are only one-half of those of the Entente armies, according to the Geneva Red Cross Bureau's calculation. The astounding number of unwounded prisoners of war which Russia loses at every encounter, and even in spaces of time between two encounters, shows that the moral force of her army is slowly giving way, while the vigor of our troops is constantly increasing. After six months of severe fighting our military position is certainly stronger than the position of the Entente powers, though the latter represent a population of 250,000,000, (English colonies and Japan not included,) against the 140,000,000 of Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Turkey. Who can doubt on which side superior moral power fights? Who can doubt, therefore, what the ultimate result promises to be?
If it takes more time to bring matters to a decision—and a decision must be obtained at any price, if there is to follow a period of permanent peace—part, at least, of the responsibility for the horrors of the protracted war, for the slaughter of many hundred thousands more of human beings, rests on America. But for the American transports of guns and ammunition, the power of Russia would give way in a shorter time, considering her enormous losses in that respect and her inability to supplement them from her own workshops.
It is very edifying that American pacifists are exerting themselves against the current of militarism which appears to spread in their country; but wouldn't it be better still, more to the purpose and certainly practically more urgent, to insist upon a truly neutral attitude of the great republic, to protest against her feeding the war by providing one belligerent side with its implements? Do American pacifists really fail to see that their country by such proceedings disables herself from being the peacemaker of the future? Do they think it immaterial from the standpoint of her moral power, as well as of her material interests, how central Europe, a mass of 120,000,000, think of her, feel about her?
I hope my readers will not find fault with me for using such plain language. My well-known enthusiastic regard for the great American commonwealth makes it unnecessary that I should protest against the charge of meaning disrespect or anything else whatever but a sincere desire to state with absolute sincerity how we feel about these matters, in what light they appear to us. I think America must know this, because it is part of the general situation she has to reckon with when shaping her policies. I fervently hope these policies will remain in concordance with the great principles on which the commonwealth is built and with the teaching embodied in that farewell address which is read once a year in Congress and in which the greatest American emphatically warns his countrymen from becoming entangled in the conflicts of European nations.
A few words more about the future of Europe may be said on this occasion. I have read with the keenest interest your own and Mr. Carnegie's statements concerning a future organization of Europe on the pattern of the United States. My personal views concerning this magnificent idea have been expressed in anticipation in my America lectures of the year 1911. Allow me to quote my own words:
Analogies are often misleading, the most obvious ones especially so. Nothing seems more obvious than to draw conclusions from the existing union of American States to a possible union of European nations; but no fancied analogy is to be applied with greater caution than this one. The American Union's origin was the common struggle of several English colonies, now States, for their emancipation; unity of purpose was the main principle of their growth, union its natural result.
Europe, on the other hand, is, in her origin and in her present state, a compound of conflicting interests and struggling potentialities. Mutual antagonism remained the principle of growth embodied in the several national lives. The juridical formula of this system is the principle of national sovereignty in its most uncompromising interpretation and most limitless conception. As such it is the natural result of a historical growth mainly filled with antagonism; in the consciousness of (European) nations it lives as synonymous with national honor, as something above doubt and discussion.
Let me add to this the following remarks:
1. Any sort of union among the nations of Europe appears impossible if it is meant to include Russia. Russia represents eastern mentality, which implies an unadmissible spirit of aggression and of conquest. It seems to be a law of nature on the old Continent that eastern nations should wish to expand to the west as long as they are powerful. Not to mention the great migration of nations which gave birth to mediaeval organizations, you may follow this law in the history of the Tartars, of the Turks, and of Russia herself. The spirit of aggressiveness vanishes only when decay sets in, which is still far from being the case of Russia, or when a nation is gradually converted to Occidental mentality, which, I hope, will some day be her happy lot. But till then, and that may mean a century or two, any sort of union including Russia would mean a herd of sheep including a wolf.
2. What I hope then, for the present, as the most desirable result of the war, is a thorough understanding between the nations of the Western European Continent, construction of a powerful political block, corresponding to the area of western mentality, in close connection with America; such a block would discourage aggression from the east; it would urge Russia on the path of reform and home improvement. England would be welcome to join it, on condition of renouncing those pretensions to monopolizing the seas which are as constant a menace to peace as Russian aggressiveness is. So we should have, if not "the United States of Europe," which at present lies beyond the boundary lines of possibilities, a strong peace union of the homogeneous western nations. Alas! this result can be reached only by destroying the present unnatural connections, which mean the continuance of war till a crushing decision is obtained.
3. The American colonies of England did not think of union as of a peace scheme; they had been compelled into it by war, by the necessity of self-defense. It is only such an overpowering motive which has force enough to blot out petty rivalries and minor antagonisms. If union between States belonging to the same race and not divided either by history or by serious conflicting interests could be effected only under the pressure of a common peril, we must infer "a minori ad majus" that such a powerful incentive will be more necessary still to persuade into union nations of different races, each cherishing memories of mutual collisions and actually aware of not unimportant clashing interests.
The menace of aggression from the east has been brought home to us by the present war; gradually it will be understood even by those Occidentals who at present unhappily lend their support to that aggression. On this perception of the higher common interests of self-defense do I build the possibilities of a western coalition. But a time may come when Russia will be compelled to join it and to complete thereby the union of the whole of Europe; it may come sooner than the conversion of Russia to western ideas could be effected by natural evolution; it may come through the yellow peril, the menace of which has been brought nearer to us by the accursed policy of England.
Let Japan organize the dormant forces of China, as it seems bent upon doing, and the same law of eastern aggressiveness which is at the bottom of the present war will push the yellow mass toward Europe. Russia, as comparatively western, will have to bear their first onset; for this she will require Occidental assistance, and in the turmoil of that direful conflict—or, let us hope, in order to avoid it—she will readily give up all designs against her western neighbors, and she may become really western by the necessities which impel her to lean on the west.
But this may or may not happen. What I see before me as a tangible possibility is the great western block. It is the only principle of reconstruction after war that contains a guarantee of a permanent peace; it is the one, therefore, which the pacifists of all nations should strive for, once they get rid of the passing mentality of conflict that now obscures the judgment of the best among us.
Neutral Spirit of the Swiss
An Interview With President Motta of the Swiss Confederation
[From The London Times, Jan. 30, 1915.]
BERNE, Jan. 20.
The President of the Swiss Confederation is the symbol of a democracy so perfect that the man in the street is not quite sure who the President is. He knows that he is one of a council of seven, and that he is elected for one year, and that is all. In the Federal Palace, the Berne Westminster and Downing Street, the anonymity is almost as complete. Officers pass and repass in the corridors—one of the signs, like the waiting military motor cars at the door, of mobilization—but this does not change the spirit, simple and civilian, of the interior.
M. Motta, Chief of State for this year, is a man of early middle life. He is the best type of Swiss, a lawyer by profession, whose limpid French seems to express culture as well as candor. Nor could one doubt for a moment the sincerity of his speech. Speaking on the Swiss position in the war, M. Motta was anxious to remove the impression that it was colored, dominated by the existence of the German-speaking cantons, more numerous than the French. "Of course," he said, "we have our private sympathies, which incline us one way or the other, and there is the language tie—though here we are greatly attached to our Bernese patois—but I would have you believe the Swiss are essentially just and impartial, they look at the war objectively.
"We have good-will toward all the nations. Need I say that we respect and esteem England? Have you not found that you are well received? There is no antagonistic feeling against any one. Our neutrality is imposed upon us by our position, a neutrality that is threefold in its effects, for it is political, financial, and economic. Italy, France, Germany, Austria, are our neighbors; we send them goods, and we receive supplies from them in return."
We then talked of the army, of that wonderful little army which, at this moment, is watching the snowy passes of the Alps. Two years ago it is said to have impressed the Kaiser on manoeuvres; perhaps for that reason he has refrained to pass that way. Outside, in the slippery streets, over which the red-capped children passed with shouts of glee, I had seen something of the preparations; the men, steel-like and stolid, marching by, the officers, stiff and martial-looking, saluting right and left under the quaint arcades of this charming city. Colored photographs of corps commanders adorned the windows and seemed to find a ready sale. These things pointed in the same direction. Switzerland, posted on her crests, was watching the issue of the terrific struggle in the plains.
"We must defend our neutrality," the President said, "our 600 years of freedom. There is not a single man in the country who thinks differently. I am an Italian-Swiss, one of the least numerous of our nationalities, but there is only one voice here as elsewhere—only one voice from Ticino to Geneva. That we shall defend our neutrality is proved by the great expenditure on our army; otherwise, it would be the height of folly."
The President spoke of army expenditure, of the simple army system, of the reorganization which had been carried out some years before. Switzerland was spending £20,000 a day, a large sum for a small country. Since the day when the general mobilization had been decreed—some classes have now been liberated—Switzerland had spent £4,500,000. It was a lot of money.
The army, of course, was a militia; some few officers were professional soldiers, others were drawn from a civil career and were doctors, lawyers, engineers, and merchants. In 1907 the country had consented to lengthen the periods of training in what are quaintly called the "recruits' schools" and "rehearsal schools." In the former category the men do sixty-five days' training a year, in the latter forty-five.
"I assure you," continued M. Motta, "whatever sympathy the German-Swiss may feel toward Germany, the French-Swiss toward France, or the Italian toward Italy, it is nothing like as warm and as intimate as that which each Swiss feels toward his fellow-Swiss."
This was the national note which dominated everything. At first there was a little difficulty in the councils of the nation. Some showed a tendency to lose their balance, but that phase had passed, and each day, I gathered, purely Swiss interests were coming uppermost.
"And the press, M. le President?"
M. Motta admitted that some writers had been excessive in their language and had been lacking in good taste; but, on the whole, he thought the newspapers had impartially printed news from both sides, and he cited a list of leading organs—Switzerland is amazingly full of papers—which had been conspicuous for their moderation.
And then there was the question of contraband. Orders were very precise on the subject; the Cabinet had limitless power since the opening of the war; if there was any smuggling it was infinitesimal, and, as to foodstuffs, Switzerland regretted she could not import more for her own needs. The Government had established a monopoly and forbidden re-exportation, but supplies were not up to the normal. The route by the Rhine was closed.
Finally came the phrase, concluding the conversation: "Whoever violates our neutrality will force us to become the allies of his enemy." There could be nothing more categorical.