But now, at the present moment, when the work of peace is placed in the hands of an inter-governmental conference at the Hague, furnished with powers to realize the resolutions passed, it is no longer fitting to draw up theories of the abstract idea of universal peace: now everyone sympathizing with the great cause, and especially such as are in immediate proximity to the conference, are compelled to concentrate all their interest upon it. And, therefore, I will close these lines with a few thoughts, which, quite apart from the “woman’s standpoint,” might bear the title: “Universal Peace and the Conference at the Hague.”
It appears to me that in the criticism and discussion of this unique phenomenon, this unprecedented historical event, the importance of the fact that such a Conference is sitting is too much forgotten. One either loses oneself in the question: “What will be discussed?” and subjects every item of the programme to a minute technical criticism, or one enquires: “What will be the result?” and indulges in more or less hopeful, or more or less sceptical, conjectures and prophecies. One forgets to contemplate the overwhelming fact that such a Conference has been called together by an autocrat in our ultra-military times, and in which every State takes part.
Apart from all that will be achieved by speeches, propositions and resolutions, the significance and the effect of the event itself must be of the greatest influence, and the first official Peace Conference appears like a miracle in the history of the world.
Among the many arguments brought against peace movements on the part of sceptics, the most powerful used to be: “What is the use of private exertions?” Rulers will never agree to restrict militarism, which is the support of the throne, or to abolish war, which is the raison d’être of militarism. Autocratic Russia itself presented the most serious menace of war. “Suppose you attempt,” was the scornful remark, “to get the Tsar upon the list of your societies; then you might speak!” Now, the Tsar stands at the head of all peace movements, but the opponents set aside the circumstance that the most obvious of their ten ordinary arguments has been refuted, and, undismayed, employ the nine remaining ones against the Tsar himself.
People do not only forget to observe the magnitude of such an event as the meeting of an inter-governmental Conference; they also forget, in speaking of the subjects under discussion, to open their eyes to the importance of them. They know what the point in question is, but they do not realize it. Like a person ignorant of music before a symphony of Beethoven, like a three-year-old child before a picture by Raphael, so do people stand before the chronicle of the Conference. They hear and see, but the awe of comprehension does not thrill through them. “Universal Peace!” How few can comprehend the harmony and the glory that lie in these words. How few reflect, while discussing the problems lying before the Conference, what is really at stake: the happiness or ruin of themselves and their children! For, that the régime of international justice would shower an undreamed-of abundance of moral and material benefits upon the civilized world, and on the other hand, that continued military equipments and the eventual employment of the increasingly deadly weapons of war must lead to ruin and annihilation, can be denied by none. Thus it is nothing less than our highest happiness or deepest misery which is being discussed in the Huis ten Bosch. But the world looks on as though it were a question of customs duties or weights and measures; many boast of “being indifferent to the matter.” They think thus to prove their superiority, and only show that they do not understand. Not only without but within the Conference is there an uncomprehending majority. Among the delegates, as well as among the Governments that sent them, most are as indifferent, in some cases as hostile, as unintelligent, generally speaking, as the ordinary public towards the idea of universal peace. But that matters nothing: the fact remains that an international parliament is now assembled in the name of this idea; the spirit abiding in the idea, and inspiring the originator as well as a number of the delegates, will exert its power upon the indifferent, the hostile, and the uncomprehending, and will penetrate the world.
The true significance of the Conference is contained in the following words, addressed by the President, von Staal, to the delegates at the opening of the first sitting:
“To seek the most effective means of ensuring to all nations the benefits of a real and lasting peace, that is the chief aim of our deliberations according to the text of the circular of August 24.
“The name ‘Peace Conference,’ which the instinct of the nations, anticipating the resolution of the Governments, has given to our Assembly, this name well describes the principal object of our labors; the Peace Conference must not be faithless to the mission laid upon it; it must bring forth a tangible result from these deliberations, which is awaited in confidence by all mankind.”
All mankind? Not yet. A great portion of it, that which still holds fast to the thousand-year-old institution of war, be it through personal interest or the power of imparted prejudice, hopes that the Conference will produce no result which may endanger war; a still greater portion, the dull masses, expect nothing at all. But those who really have confidence in the progress of culture, who, in agreement with the originator of the Conference and his faithful fellow-workers, are convinced of the necessity of the present ruinous system giving place to another, these latter will note these words of the President of the Conference; and in case of disappointment, in case the Conference were faithless to its mission, would raise the demand for fulfilment so loudly and continuously that at length all mankind would be carried away by it.
But such disappointment will not take place. That may be boldly said beforehand. The proposals already put before the Assembly vouch for the earnestness and sincerity of the work which has been begun. They are a proof that the following sentence from Staal’s speech is no mere phrase, but the expression of noble resolve: