It is the old, old story—nations must climb step by step—they have no wings.
CHAPTER XI
THE MEASURE OF THE WASHINGTON CONFERENCE
How are we to measure the Washington Conference? There are people who think it should be by the things that it did not undertake to do. The Conference was indicted in Washington in January by a league of people of considerable ability who declared that it had not lessened the chance of war by a fraction of one per cent. The reason they gave for this verdict was that it had not taken up the causes of India, Korea, the Far Eastern Republic, Persia, the Philippines, Haiti, the “Republic of Mt. Lebanon.”
It is certain that the world is going to have no quiet until these troubled countries are satisfied. But they are not the only problems to be solved. Mr. Hughes named a considerable number on his agenda. Is an international conference to be declared a farce because it selects one set of problems instead of another, and believes it more practical to give exclusive attention to one side of the globe than to the entire surface? You could not persuade Mr. Hughes and his colleagues that any other policy than that of one thing at a time would contribute a “fraction of one per cent.” to the peace of the earth. They believe the block system is the only practical one for setting the world aright. They lay it out something like this:
“Let us clean up the Pacific, then we can disarm. Having disarmed, we can lend a hand in the next most distressed and troublesome block—France, Central Europe, Russia. Having helped set them straight, one at a time, then possibly we may consider an association of nations—but not now.” So convinced was Mr. Hughes of the soundness of his system that he threw out one of the chief subjects on his agenda—the limitation of land armament—when he discovered he must leave his block—the Pacific—and pass into Europe if it was considered.
The only system a man can successfully handle is that in which he has faith,—the only fair way to judge what he does is by what he undertakes to do—not what you would like him to undertake. Measured by the method it adopted and the limitations it set for itself, how does the Conference come out?
I began my observations on the Conference with a quarrel with the agenda. Putting the problem of the limitation of armament before the settlement of the difficulties or threats of difficulties in the Pacific, which were keeping the countries concerned in arms, looked illogical. It proved good psychology. The naval program stirred the imagination of the country, became at once something tremendously desirable—a real move toward peace. When England and Japan at once agreed it became possible and practical. If they agreed, why, then—it must be—the difficulties could be settled which many had doubted. The Conference thus at the start gained what it needed most, popular faith that it meant to do a concrete, tangible thing. The proposition that England, the United States, Japan, France and Italy should adopt a naval ratio of 5–5–3, 1.75—1.25 and agree not to build for ten years was a big, substantial, stirring fact. To have them accept, as they did, strengthened the faith of the world. It was the first time big powers had ever said “scrap,” had ever been actually eager for a naval holiday.
The fact that neither the submarine nor the auxiliary craft are to be limited in tonnage, as the original program proposed, if disappointing, still does not upset the achievement. The submarine comes out of the Conference unlimited in number but crippled in its field of action. Merchant ships are forbidden it on penalty of piracy. That will not in the thick of war prevent merchant ships being destroyed but it will take the heart out of the business. Outlawry helps if it does not prohibit. There is compensation also in the failure in regard to the tonnage of auxiliary craft, for at least their size is limited—to 10,000 tons—and their guns to 8 inches, and that is a fairly satisfactory substitute for the original proposal.
In spite of the changes, cutting and trimming, the naval program remains something which the country wants, something which it feels to be a blow at war as well as a relief to its tax burdens.
If the naval program could stand on its own feet, it alone would make the Conference a brilliant success, but it cannot. It was no sooner raised to its feet than its makers had to rush in with props. The first was a policy in regard to China. The reason was clear enough. Unless the nations at the Conference could agree among themselves on a method of assisting in the development of China which would prevent any one of them taking an unfair advantage of the others, there were sure to be quarrels sooner or later and they would need their ships. Unless they could fix on a policy under which not only they each had a fair chance but nations outside—not at the Conference, but likely in the future to desire to invest in China—were not discriminated against, they would need their ships. They would surely need them, too, one of these days, if they did not satisfy China that what they agreed upon was as good for her as for them.