IX
JAPAN
Among the solutions of the burning questions which exercised the ingenuity and tested the good faith of the leading Powers at the Peace Conference, none was more rapidly reached there, or more bitterly assailed outside, than those in which Japan was specially interested. The storm that began to rage as soon as the Supreme Council's decision on the Shantung issue became known did not soon subside. Far from that, it threatened for a time to swell into a veritable hurricane. This problem, like most of those which were submitted to the forum of the Conference, may be envisaged from either of two opposite angles of survey; from that of the future society of justice-loving nations, whose members are to forswear territorial aggrandizement, special economic privileges, and political sway in, or at the expense of, other countries; or from the traditional point of view, which has always prevailed in international politics and which cannot be better described than by Signor Salandra's well-known phrase "sacred egotism." Viewed in the former light, Japan's demand for Shantung was undoubtedly as much a stride backward as were those of the United States and France for the Monroe Doctrine and the Saar Valley respectively. But as the three Great Powers had set the example, Japan was resolved from the outset to rebel against any decree relegating her to the second-or third-class nations. The position of equality occupied by her government among the governments of other Great Powers did not extend to the Japanese nation among the other nations. But her statesmen refused to admit this artificial inferiority as a reason for descending another step in the international hierarchy and they invoked the principle of which Britain, France, and America had already taken advantage.
The Supreme Council, like Janus of old, possessed two faces, one altruistic and the other egotistic, and, also like that son of Apollo, held a key in its right hand and a rod in its left. It applied to the various states, according to its own interest or convenience, the principles of the old or the new Covenant, and would fain have dispossessed Japan of the fruits of the campaign, and allotted to her the rôle of working without reward in the vineyard of the millennium, were it not that this policy was excluded by reasons of present expediency and previous commitments. The expediency was represented by President Wilson's determination to obtain, before returning to Washington, some kind of a compact that might be described as the constitution of the future society of nations, and by his belief that this instrument could not be obtained without Japan's adherence, which was dependent on her demand for Shantung being allowed. And the previous commitments were the secret compacts concluded by Japan with Britain, France, Russia, and Italy before the United States entered the war.
Nippon's rôle in the war and the circumstances that shaped it are scarcely realized by the general public. They have been purposely thrust in the background. And yet a knowledge of them is essential to those who wish to understand the significance of the dispute about Shantung, which at bottom was the problem of Japan's international status. Before attempting to analyze them, however, it may not be amiss to remark that during the French press campaign conducted in the years 1915-16, with the object of determining the Tokio Cabinet to take part in the military operations in Europe, the question of motive was discussed with a degree of tactlessness which it is difficult to account for. It was affirmed, for example, that the Mikado's people would be overjoyed if the Allied governments vouchsafed them the honor of participating in the great civilizing crusade against the Central Empires. That was proclaimed to be such an enviable privilege that to pay for it no sacrifice of men or money would be exorbitant. Again, the degree to which Germany is a menace to Japan was another of the texts on which Entente publicists relied to scare Nippon into drastic action, as though she needed to be told by Europeans where her vital interests lay, from what quarters they were jeopardized, and how they might be safeguarded most successfully. So much for the question of tact and form. Japan has never accepted the doctrine of altruism in politics which her Western allies have so zealously preached. Until means have been devised and adopted for substituting moral for military force in the relations of state with state, the only reconstruction of the world in which the Japanese can believe is that which is based upon treaties and the pledged word. That is the principle which underlies the general policy and the present strivings of our Far Eastern ally.
One of the characteristic traits of all Nippon's dealings with her neighbors is loyalty and trustworthiness. Her intercourse with Russia before and after the Manchurian campaign offers a shining example of all the qualities which one would postulate in a true-hearted neighbor and a stanch and chivalrous ally. I had an opportunity of watching the development of the relations between the two governments for many years before they quarreled, and subsequently down to 1914, and I can state that the praise lavished by the Tsar's Ministers on their Japanese colleagues was well deserved. And for that reason it may be taken as an axiom that whatever developments the present situation may bring forth, the Empire of Nippon will carry out all its engagements with scrupulous exactitude, in the spirit as well as the letter.
To be quite frank, then, the Japanese are what we should term realists. Consequently their foreign policy is inspired by the maxims which actuated all nations down to the year 1914, and still move nearly all of them to-day. In fact, the only Powers that have fully and authoritatively repudiated them as yet are Bolshevist Russia, and to a large extent the United States. Holding thus to the old dispensation, Japan entered the war in response to a definite demand made by the British government. The day before Britain declared war against Germany the British Ambassador at Tokio officially inquired whether his government could count upon the active co-operation of the Mikado's forces in the campaign about to begin. On August 4th Baron Kato, having in the meanwhile consulted his colleagues, answered in the affirmative. Three days later another communication reached Tokio from London, requesting the immediate co-operation of Japan, and on the following day it was promised. The motive for this haste was credibly asserted to be Britain's apprehension lest Germany should transfer Kiaochow to China, and reserve to herself, in virtue of Article V of the Convention of 1898, the right of securing after the war "a more suitable territory" in the Middle Empire or Republic. Thereupon they began operations which were at first restricted to the China seas, but were afterward extended to the Pacific and Indian Oceans, and finally to the Mediterranean. The only task that fell to their lot on land was that of capturing Kiaochow. But whatever they set their hands to they carried out thoroughly, and to the complete satisfaction of their European allies.
For many years the people of Nippon have been wending slowly, but with tireless perseverance and unerring instinct, toward their far-off goal, which to the unbiased historian will seem not merely legitimate but praiseworthy. Their intercourse with Russia was the story of one long laborious endeavor to found a common concern which should enable Japan to make headway on her mission. Russia was just the kind of partner whose co-operation was especially welcome, seeing that it could be had without the hitches and set-backs attached to that of most other Great Powers. The Russians were never really intolerant in racial matters, nor dangerous in commercial rivalry. They intermarried freely with all the so-called inferior races and tribes in the Tsardom, and put all on an equal footing before the law. Twenty-three years ago I paid a visit to my friend General Tomitch, the military governor of Kars, and I found myself sitting at his table beside the Prefect of the city, who was a Mohammedan. The individual Russian is generally free from racial prejudices; he has no sense of the "yellow peril," and no objection to receive the Japanese as a comrade, a colleague, or a son-in-law.
And the advances made by Ito and others would have been reciprocated by Witte and Lamsdorff were it not that the Tsar, interested in Bezobrazoff's Yalu venture, subordinated his policy to those vested interests, and compelled Japan to fight. The master-idea of the policy of Ito, with whom I had two interesting conversations on the subject, was to strike up a close friendship with the Tsardom, based on community of durable interests, and to bespeak Russia's help for the hour of storm and stress which one day might strike. The Tsar's government was inspired by analogous motives. Before the war was terminated I repaired to London on behalf of Russia, in order to propose to the Japanese government, in addition to the treaty of peace which was about to be discussed at Portsmouth, an offensive and defensive alliance, and to ask that Prince Ito be sent as first plenipotentiary, invested with full powers to conclude such a treaty.