Neutrality, between right and wrong, is a crime. It was invented by militaristic criminals who want to murder nations, and make sure that there will be no interference by neighbors.

The thug, murdering his victim, resents the interference of the passerby, by saying: “This is none of your business.” He demands neutrality.

So it has become a virtuous act for a nation, when two nations engage in war, to declare itself neutral. We realize now that something is wrong in this system, so we have devised the league of nations idea. This idea is nothing more than an agreement that there shall be no more neutrality. If a nation threatens war, all the others agree to take sides. The fact that all the others may combine against the aggressor, or the nation adjudged to be in the wrong, automatically prevents the war. Unless the aggressing nation feels strong enough to defy the others, or able to accomplish its purpose of destruction before the others can get into action.

But issues between nations are often beclouded, or the minds of peoples are befogged, or populations become divided over what is right and what is wrong. A league of nations, to operate according to the ideals of the idea, presupposes the ability of peoples, or their leaders, to make swift decision as to who is right and who is wrong. It calls for not merely national statesmanship, but international statesmanship—which is always for right.

We wanted to operate on the patient in Siberia but the doctors could not decide whether to take out the appendix of Bolshevism, or cut off the head that ached without a crown. The patient is still suffering from a bad appendix—and a violent headache.

We said at home that Bolshevism menaced the world. It had ruined Siberia. We were in Siberia with troops. We should have attacked Bolshevism on its native heath, and declared to Russia and the world that once the Bolshevists were whipped and knew they were whipped, we would stand beside the nation till it had reorganized itself in its own non-Bolshevist way.

Japan expected us to do those things, just as England did. We practically forbade Japan from going into Siberia without our sanction, or without us. We decried intervention or interference, and then proceeded to intervene. I do not care what other term is used in describing our landing an expedition in Siberia—it was intervention. It was a measure for the safety of Russia, and for our own protection.

The minute our first armed man stepped upon the dock at Vladivostok, we had intervened—we had interfered. It was our business to be effective, to justify our presence there, to act in the manner we thought proper and be responsible for our acts. All the others would have been glad to coöperate with us, I am sure.

In fact, all parties looked to us for leadership, regardless of what their private ideas or ambitions may have been. Japan was ready to coöperate with us, but we disgusted Japan by our failure to do anything but sit on the lid of the Pandora’s box in Vladivostok. Japan went ahead and did a few things on her own account, and then there were whispers in certain quarters that Japan wanted to grab Siberia.

If Japan did want to grab Siberia, it was because the lackadaisical attitude of the United States made Japan feel that whatever Japan did, the United States would not do much more than mildly protest.