Moreover, complaints are still coming in as before, so that, although it is somewhat the fashion to condemn our consular system as the “worst in the world”, it is evident that we haven’t got to the bottom of the difficulty yet.
It needs no argument to show that the “spoils system”, pure and simple, is the most suicidal policy possible. The logic of history—our own history—upon this very point, is conclusive. But to throw the consular and diplomatic service into the “classified list”, or, in other words, to decide upon the fitness of a candidate merely upon the merits of a civil service examination would make but small improvement. It would tinker the old machine instead of replacing it with a new one. Such a process may determine upon a candidate’s preparation—if an examination may be said to determine anything—but it can not reach his personality—what he is,—nor can it reveal his capacity for work—what he can do.
Now these three points are to be considered in determining a candidate’s fitness for any position whatever—what he is, what he knows, and what he can do. The practical problems for the State Department are how to determine what a man is when in the majority of cases he is an entire stranger, how to discover what he can do when he has never been tested by experience, and how to expect him to know much about the business when there is not a school anywhere prepared to give the needed instruction.
Suppose you want to prepare for this service, how would you go about it? How would you find what was needed, what you should study and where to look for it? The government provides no means whatever of preparing men for foreign service. They simply get into it somehow—always, of course, through political influence—and then learn it necessarily at government expense. Just about the time they have mastered the language and are prepared to do their best work, along comes a change of administration and turns them out of office, and then the government begins again the expensive task of training a new set of men. This is not a hypothetical case. It is the rule rather than the exception.
Well, what ought to be done?
Why, establish some means of instruction for one thing. No one will doubt the wisdom of maintaining the academies at West Point and Annapolis for the Army and Navy, and are not the needs of the foreign service, Diplomatic, Consular, and lately Colonial, as urgent and important as the others? We have often heard the need of a great national university urged, and we occasionally hear a timid plea for a national school at Washington for the training of consuls and diplomats, but it is gratifying to notice the declaration in favor of the latter by such an eminent body of educators as those university presidents constituting the committee chosen by the National Educational Association to consider this very subject.
The need of a school of political science, economics, and modern languages, and the need of its location at the capital of the nation and under national control, is all the more urgent and unmistakable now that questions in colonial government are coming up for solution; and when one considers the multitude of problems afforded by the work of the consular service, together with the statecraft of the diplomatic, it is easy to see that there should be such an institution. A government which has provided so liberally for general education ought not to neglect that wise provision where its own efficient service demands it and nothing else can well supply it.
But the school cannot do it all, and its work must be supplemented by experience—say a year or more of residence for successful candidates at a foreign consulate or legation. And whenever a new man is appointed it should evidently be to one of the lower positions, leaving the higher ones to be filled by promotion.
It is gratifying to notice that an honest and intelligent effort is being made in Congress to bring about some needed reforms in the consular service. A bill[[2]] is before the present House of Representatives which provides that “appointments shall be made to grades and not to specific places”. “A consul’s station”, says one authority[[3]] commenting upon the bill, “should depend on the exigencies of the service, and should not necessarily be permanent. Good consuls may thus be obtained for undesirable places, a thing which is now well nigh impossible”. “It provides also”, says the same authority, that “removals shall not be made by caprice or for other than specified cause. To put a check upon appointments only or removals only is to leave at either end a loophole for evasion of the spirit of the reform. By crowding one man in, another may be crowded out”.
One would be astonished that such common-sense measures as these have not been in operation this long time, were it not for the power of “practical politics”. The “practical politician” is discovered easily and in every precinct. You have only to speak of efficiency or merit as the chief test of a candidate’s fitness for office, and he will have something to say about “giving every man a chance”, “changing around”, “getting out of the ruts”, etc. Should a consul’s station depend upon the “exigencies of the service”? Certainly; what is the service for? May he not be “removed by caprice”? Certainly not; for again, what is the service for?