American World Policies

by Walter E. Weyl

CHAPTER XXI

AN IMMEDIATE PROGRAMME

To the practical man who wants to know what to do and when and how to do it, general principles seem unreal and valueless. He is interested in the decisions of the next few months, not in a vague general direction of events for the coming century. And so in international politics he would like to decide what the nation shall do now about the British blacklist, the German submarines, the Mexican revolution, the California-Japanese situation, and he is not keenly interested in the formulation of a policy which seems to hang high above the difficult concrete problems that must be solved immediately. He may languidly agree with proposals to create a community of interest among colonising nations and to establish the freedom of the sea, but he wishes to know whether in the meanwhile we are to back up Carranza in Mexico and what we are to do if the revolutionists "shoot up" an American town. While we work for these ideals, are we to allow Germany to sink our liners and Japan to swallow up China, or are we to fight?

This attitude is not unreasonable. A general policy is of little value unless we can make successive decisions conform to it. But it is not easy or always possible to predict these decisions. We can tell approximately how many people in the United States will die next year, but not how many will die in any particular family. We can advise a man who is walking from New York to San Francisco to take a generally westward course, but for any given mile of the road the direction may be north or south or east. A trend of policy is made up of innumerable deflections, small or large; it is an irregular chain of successive actions, which do not all tend in one direction. Even if we narrow our field of vision and seek to elaborate a more immediate policy, we do not escape from the vagueness which inheres in all such general conclusions.

In the main our problem consists in using the influence of the United States to create such an economic harmony among the nations, and to give each nation such a measure of security as to permit them to agree upon an international policy, which will be in the interest of all. The chief elements of this programme are two in number: to create conditions within the United States which will permit us to exert a real influence; and to use this influence in the creation of an international organisation, which will give each nation a measure of economic and military security, and prevent any nation from wantonly breaking the peace.

How far we can progress towards such an organisation will depend upon the course and uncertain issue of the present war. The war may end with the Central Allies crushed, with Germany reduced in size and Austria and Turkey dismembered. It may end with a lesser defeat for the Central Powers and with lesser penalties. There may be an inconclusive peace, which may either be a mere truce or a new basis of agreement between nations disillusioned by the conflict. Finally the war may end with the partial or even complete victory of the Central Powers, either through their overcoming the united opposition of their enemies or by detaching one or more from their alliances.

What the United States can effect at the conclusion of the war will inevitably depend upon which of these developments takes place. Assuming that we ourselves are not drawn into the conflict, it is probable that our influence will be larger if neither of the great coalitions wins an overwhelming victory. If the Western and Eastern Allies completely crush the resistance of the Central Powers, it is hardly likely that they will concede to us, who have not borne a share of the danger and toil, a large discretion in proposing the terms of peace. Such an unconditional victory by either side would probably lead to an onerous and vindictive settlement, for each coalition is bound together by promises to its constituent nations, and these promises cannot be fulfilled without wholesale spoliation. Moreover, each coalition will wish to weaken the future power of its opponents. A request by the United States that the victorious alliance deal generously with the defeated nations in order to create the conditions of a permanent peace would therefore probably meet with a more or less courteous denial. On the other hand, a drawn battle, or one in which the defeated party asking for peace still retained a considerable power of resistance, might lead to conditions in which the influence of the neutral nations, led by the United States, would be all-decisive. A situation might be created out of which no further fighting could bring a tolerable peace, and the nations might agree to some form of incipient international organisation, to which the United States could contribute.

The problem of Constantinople illustrates this possibility. That city, with the command of the straits, is likely to go to Russia if the Allies win, and to fall under a disguised German-Austrian domination if the Central Powers are victorious. Either situation would be vicious; either would leave the commerce of the defeated nations at the mercy of the great power that held the Bosphorus. If on the other hand, the two opposed alliances were almost equally formidable at the end of the war, or if England and France became unwilling to fight longer in order to give Russia a strategic position at Constantinople, a true solution of the problem might be obtained by neutralising the straits. A union of all the powers might guarantee the free passage of these waters at all times, and an American commissioner in command of a small American army might carry out the wishes of an international council. It would not be a pleasant or in any sense a profitable adventure for the United States, and we should accept the task most unwillingly. Our sole motive would be the belief that our acceptance of this responsibility would remove one of the greatest causes of future war.

Such an assumption of obligations at Constantinople would constitute for us a new and dangerous international policy. While Constantinople is easily defended and while ample assistance would be forthcoming if defence were necessary, it can hardly be doubted that a rupture of such an international agreement guaranteeing the neutrality of the straits would bring on a war in which we should be obliged to take our part. Yet the danger which we thus incur by entering upon an agreement looking to international peace is perhaps less than the danger of not entering since if Constantinople causes another world war, as it may if not neutralised, it is by no means unlikely that sooner or later we may be forced into the struggle. It is better to risk our peace in seeking to avert a world disaster than to permit the great war to come.

There are other international policies which in favouring circumstances might be urged by the United States at the close of the war. We might append our signature to international conventions defining and guaranteeing a freedom of the seas, to agreements looking towards a co-operative exploitation of backward countries, to laws regulating the settlement of arbitrable international disputes, and to such special conventions as might be made for the re-neutralisation of Belgium. Upon the basis of such agreements, even though they were but tentative and partial, we might enter with the other nations upon some form of a League of Peace and International Polity, which would secure these new conventions from being rudely disturbed by the aggression of one or two powers.

Whether we help to carry out these policies at the close of this war, will depend upon the balance of power then existing in Europe and upon the mood of the nations. If Russia wants Constantinople, if Britain insists upon the right of capture at sea, if France, Italy, Servia, Roumania and the British colonies demand territorial gains without compensation, and these powers are able to enforce their will, our delegates to the Peace Conference may make representations and suggestions, but will not be able to carry them through. Nor if the Central Powers are victorious and unyielding, shall we be able to make our advice count. No one power or group of powers could carry out such a policy against the will of a majority or even of a strong minority of powers. Unless the conditions at the end of the war are such as to convince the victors (if there are victors) that it is wiser to readjust the world than to get all they can, unless great nations like Britain, France and Germany can agree that a groundwork for future peace is more valuable than territorial gains and punitive damages, the opportunity for a peaceful reconstruction will pass. New coalitions will be formed; new wars will be fought.

It is of course possible that such an international reconstruction will be entered upon only with hesitation by several of the nations, including some of the victors. It is even conceivable that the movement might be furthered by certain of the belligerents on both sides, as for example Germany, Great Britain, France and Italy (aided by the United States and other neutrals) and be opposed to some extent by, let us say, Russia and Turkey. It is not assumed that this particular division among the nations will actually occur, but merely that upon the conclusion of the war the moral integrity of the alliances may be shattered and with the prospect of new cleavages and disagreements, an effort be made, aided by the neutrals, to create conditions doing away with the present balance of power. A war disintegrates the elements making for success in war; enemies become allies and allies enemies. At the final council board each nation tends to return to its allegiance to itself, and with the passing of the old alliances a new league based upon totally different principles becomes possible.

It is, however, with a tempered optimism that we should approach the international conference that is to end this war. Even if America is represented and wisely represented, even if the powers are willing to listen to proposals looking toward international reconstruction, the probability that there will be an inclination to make concessions is not overwhelming. Hatred, distrust, the injection of petty interests, the tenacity of diplomatic conservatism will all work against a wise forbearance and a far-seeing policy, and the errors of the Vienna Conference of 1815 and of the Berlin Conference of 1878 may be duplicated or worse. There is at least an even chance that the international situation will be quite as unsatisfactory and perilous in 1920 as it was in 1900. Progress towards international reconstruction is a possible but by no means certain part of the agenda of the diplomatic conference, which will meet when enough millions of the youth of Europe have been slaughtered and maimed.

But those who desire peace and the international relations which will alone make peace possible have learned to be patient, and if the problem advances only slowly to a solution it will be sufficient satisfaction to know that it advances at all. After this war there will be many long years during which the nations may study at their leisure the clumsiness of the arrangements which make for international conflict. There will be years in which America, if she is worthy and strong, will be able to make her influence for peace felt.

The problem, however, is not how rapidly we shall move but whether we shall move at all and in what direction. That direction seems to be clearly indicated by the recent trend of world events. With the passing of our isolation we are given the opportunity to use our immense influence directly, continuously and intelligently for the strengthening of the economic bonds which make for a world peace. Time and the economic trend work on our side. We can hasten, though we cannot and need not create, the vast unifying movement which comes with the further integration of industry. What we can contribute to this consummation is an ability to see the world as it is and a willingness to work and if necessary to fight for the changes without which international peace is impossible. We must avoid a cautious yet dangerous clinging to a philosophy of national irresponsibility, as we must likewise avoid the excesses of a nationalistic imperialism. We must take our part manfully, side by side with the other nations, in the great reorganisation of the world, which even to-day is foreshadowed by an economic internationalism, now in its beginnings.

In the last century and a half the United States has made three great contributions to the political advancement of the world. The first was the adoption of the constitution, an experiment in federalism on a scale larger than ever before known in history. The second was the adoption of a policy, by which the vast territories of all the states were held in common, and these new territories admitted to statehood upon exactly the same terms as the original commonwealths, which formed the Union. Our third contribution was the Monroe Doctrine, which removed two continents from the field of foreign conquest and guaranteed to each American nation the freedom to determine its own form of government and its own sovereignty.

To-day the nation is again in a position to contribute to the political progress of the world. It stands before a fourth decision. Either it can cling hopelessly to the last vestiges of its policy of isolation or can launch out into imperialistic ventures, or finally it can promote, as can no other nation, a policy of internationalism, which will bind together the nations in a union of mutual interest, and will hasten the peaceful progress of the economic and political integration of the world.