On occasions, it is true, we have been effusive, and have somewhat overstepped the limits of dignity, plunging into a gushing sentimentality, or else wheedling and coaxing, with some material object—the abatement of naval expenditure, for example—showing very plainly through our blandishments. And as our methods at these times have been lacking in self-respect, it is not wonderful if they have earned little or no respect from others. Our protestations that we were friends, our babble about blood-relationship, were suspected to have their origin in timidity; our appeals for restriction of armaments, to our aversion from personal sacrifice and our senile penuriousness.
FAULTS OF ENGLISH METHODS
Until lately these lapses into excessive amiability, it must be allowed, were not very frequent. The main excuse for German suspicion is to be found elsewhere—in the dilatoriness of our foreign policy—in its inability to make up its mind—in its changeability after its mind might have been supposed made up—in its vagueness with regard to the nature of our obligations towards other powers—whom we would support, and to what extent, and upon what pleas.
Irritation on the part of Germany would have been natural in these circumstances, even if she had not been in the mood to suspect dark motives in the background. From the days of Lord Granville to those of Sir Edward Grey, we had been dealing with a neighbour who, whatever her failings might be, was essentially businesslike in her methods. We, on the other hand, continued to exhibit many of those faults which are most ill-regarded by business men. We would not say clearly what regions came within our sphere of influence. We would not say clearly where Germany might go and where we should object to her going; but wherever she went, we were apt after the event to grumble and make trouble.
The delay and indecision which marked Lord Granville's dealings with Bismarck over the partition of Africa were both bad manners in the international sense, and bad policy. The neglect of Sir Edward Grey, after Agadir, to make clear to his fellow-countrymen, and to the world at large, the nature and extent of our obligations to France, was bad business. Next to the British people and our present allies, Germany had the best reason to complain of this procedure, or rather of this failure to proceed.
The blame for this unfortunate record rests mainly upon our political system, rather than on individuals. We cannot enjoy the benefits of the most highly developed party system in the world, without losing by it in various directions. A change of Government, actual or impending, has more often been the cause of procrastination and uncertainty than change in the mind of the Foreign Minister. There are people who assure us that this must always be so, that it is one of the inherent weaknesses of party government, and even of democracy itself. This is not altogether true. It is true, however, that whereas statesmen may be reticent and keep their own counsel under an autocracy, they are bound to be frank, and simple, and outspoken as to their aims, where their power is drawn directly from popular support.
BAD DIPLOMACY
The criticism against British foreign policy for upwards of a century, is that it has aimed at managing our international relations on a system of hoodwinking the people, which is altogether incompatible with the nature of our institutions. The evils which have resulted from this mistake are not confined to ourselves, but have reacted abroad. "With whom," we can imagine some perplexed foreign Chancellor asking himself—"with whom does power really rest in England? With the Government or with the people? With which of these am I to deal? To which must I address myself? As regards France there is little difficulty, for her policy is national, and agreed on all hands. But in England, so far as we can judge, the people have no idea of being dragged under any circumstances into a European war; while on the other hand, the Government is obviously drifting, consciously or unconsciously, into continental relations which, in certain events, can lead to no other result...." Nor is it surprising that under these conditions German diplomacy should have directed itself of late, with much industry, to the cultivation of public opinion in this country, and should at times have treated our Government with scant respect.
The fact is that the two nations, which had most to gain by clear-sighted and tactful foreign policy, were perhaps of all nations in the world the least well served in that particular. English relations with Germany have for many years past been more mismanaged than anything except German relations with England. In their mutual diplomacy the fingers of both nations have been all thumbs.
It is not to be wondered at that two characters so antagonistic in their natures and methods as English and German foreign policy should have come to regard one another as impossible. The aggressive personage who does know his own mind, and the vague, supercilious personage who does not, have only one point in common—that they understand and care very little about the feelings of other people. But although this is a point in common, it is anything but a point of agreement.[[1]]