Uncle Sam Abroad

by Jacob Elon Conner

For the public feels, and has a right to feel, that it has a proprietary interest in public affairs. More than this, it is in an unhealthy state when it doesn’t feel such an interest. The public, at least the enlightened public, knows that secrecy is apt to be troublesome anywhere, especially in government. It knows of many a historic instance of corruption fostered by secrecy, of intrigue, cabal, plot and counterplot, until the whole fabric of the state became vitiated. The public,—that is, the American public,—may have some reason to dread secrecy in local government, for many an alderman wants nothing better than to be let alone, and many a “convention boss” with a few “ring” associates would prefer to “fix the ticket” without any inspection by the public whom he expects in a few days to browbeat into supporting it.

Granting that we haven’t been watchful enough as to local politics, how is it nationally? How about the Department of State—for that alone is the place where secrecy is justifiable?

It was said by an authority on American diplomacy about fifteen years ago that “there is scarcely a country, even Russia or Germany, where so little is known by the public of the negotiations carried on at any one time by the Secretary of State”. What did this indicate? the efficiency of our government as a negotiating machine? Did it indicate an indifference of our people to their welfare? Well, however it may have been at that time, it is certain that there has been a growing and insistent demand during the present decade that negotiations shall be revealed at the earliest possible moment. Public opinion has even been known to dictate foreign policy—nay, more, to reverse it after it had once been determined upon by the State Department, as in the case of the notorious “Queen Lil”. Indeed, this instance in our diplomatic history shows very satisfactorily that no administration can stand or ought to stand against the overwhelming volume of enlightened public opinion raised against an unpopular measure or a distrusted service. The public is bound to know whenever it can, and when it can not it is bound to guess, and its guessing may be more disturbing to foreign negotiations than a knowledge of the facts. Thus, while it may not always be able to determine the course of negotiations, it is always in its power to seriously affect them and ultimately to overthrow them.

But such cases as that of the Hawaiian queen are rare, and the American public fortunately has seldom had reason to apprehend that state affairs were being grossly mismanaged. Perhaps, on the other hand, it has needed at times to be cautioned against over-insistence upon its right to news—a vulgar itching for a sensational stimulant. Perhaps it has needed the reminder that it “had its say”, directly or indirectly, in the choice of officers, and that having chosen them, it should, as a rule, reserve criticism until election time returns; for between an eternal “nagging” of public officials and a profound indifference to public affairs there isn’t much to choose. The New England town-meeting has often been justly commended for cultivating an interest in public affairs; but, on the other hand, it frequently sets up its select-men merely to be targets of abuse. No nation and no community can have, or deserves to have, the best possible government when its officials are subjected to a perpetual cross fire of criticism.

The Secretary of State should have as free a hand as possible in the great game of world politics, for the state being a gigantic business firm, must, like all such firms, keep its business to itself.

It has long been a standing objection to federal governments such as ours that they are “weak in the conduct of foreign affairs”, the imputation being that they are weak because the Secretary of State lacks the initiative afforded by a more centralized government. But, as a matter of fact, the same official in England, France, Italy, or Spain, is more likely to be called upon for the progress of foreign negotiations than in our own country.

But the Constitution does not grant the Secretary, that is to say, the Executive, entire freedom in foreign affairs, for it explicitly states that “the President shall have power, by and with the consent and advice of the Senate, to make treaties ... to appoint ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls,” etc. However, this restraint is not always irksome, and it may sometimes prove salutary. It is always a measure of assurance to the people that the administration will not commit the government to an unwise policy; and more than this, it is an assurance to a power with which we may be dealing that the result of the negotiations is not likely to be repudiated by the people when the chief executive is backed by the legislature.

The Senate entrusts its diplomatic functions, except in the ratification of treaties and the approval of the appointments of ambassadors, to its Committee on Foreign Affairs. This Committee leaves the initiative in diplomacy to the State Department, taking care, nevertheless, to keep track of any negotiations that may be pending. Whenever the Senate wishes to know the progress of negotiations it passes resolutions calling for them, the Chief Clerk of the Department gets them ready, and the Senate then meets in closed session during their consideration. Thus diplomatic business is fairly well guarded and at the same time a reassuring degree of legislative oversight is maintained. To be sure, we hear more or less criticism of Senate control, which in the nature of the case must mean a sacrifice of expediency, yet it remains to be seen whether or not our system is too cumbersome for prompt, prudent and adroit statesmanship when brought into closer rivalry with Europe.

For there is no doubt that for good or for ill we are entering upon a degree of activity in world politics such as we have never known heretofore. Consequently it becomes a matter of the highest necessity that our whole diplomatic machinery be in a condition to afford the greatest utility. Diplomacy in these modern times is said to be the art of maintaining peace; but it sometimes implies a rivalry, nevertheless, which is far from pacific. We should remember, therefore, that European diplomats have behind them the advantage of many years of study of their great problems from their own standpoint and the judgment of men of the greatest sagacity upon intricacies of long standing, and that most of them have governments more centralized than our own. It means a great deal to be able to quote in support of a position the weight of an authority like Metternich, Cavour, Bismarck, Gortschakoff, Richelieu, Grotius or Canning. But if anyone thinks that America is putting herself in a fair way to be worsted in this greatest of fields of intellectual battle, let him read the history of American diplomacy and let him study the part she has recently played in the world drama. If he thinks she is taking this greater part without adequate prestige, let him but observe the flattering attention she is now receiving, the coquetry for her favor and the dread of her rivalry to be observed in every quarter.

The State Department, therefore, may be expected to meet its new obligation successfully, provided it is allowed to act without too much interruption by people or legislature, and provided that the same wise discretion is observed in the choice of its chief officer that has usually been exercised.