A Revision of the Treaty / Being a Sequel to The Economic Consequence of the Peace

by John Maynard Keynes

The decision of the Reparation Commission and the arrival of the date, May 1, 1921, fixed in the Treaty for the promulgation of a definite Reparation scheme, provided a sufficient ground for reopening the whole question. Germany had refused the Decisions of Paris; the Sanctions had failed to move her; the régime of the Treaty was therefore reinstated; and under the Treaty it was for the Reparation Commission to propose a scheme.

In these circumstances the Allies met once more in London in the closing days of April 1921. The scheme there concerted was really the work of the Supreme Council, but the forms of the Treaty were preserved, and the Reparation Commission were summoned from Paris to adopt and promulgate as their own the decree of the Supreme Council.

The Conference met in circumstances of great tension. M. Briand had found it necessary to placate his Chamber by announcing that he intended to occupy the Ruhr on May 1. The policy of violence and illegality, which began with the Conference of Paris, had always included hitherto just a sufficient ingredient of make–believe to prevent its being as dangerous as it pretended to the peace and prosperity of Europe. But a point had now been reached when something definite, whether good or bad, seemed bound to happen; and there was every reason for anxiety. Mr. Lloyd George and M. Briand had walked hand–in–hand to the edge of a precipice; Mr. Lloyd George had looked over the edge; and M. Briand had praised the beauties of the prospect below and the exhilarating sensations of a descent. Mr. Lloyd George, having indulged to the full his habitual morbid taste for looking over, would certainly end in drawing back, explaining at the same time how much he sympathized with M. Briandʼs standpoint. But would M. Briand?

In this atmosphere the Conference met, and, considering all the circumstances, including the past commitments of the principals, the result was, on the whole, a victory for good sense, not least because the Allies there decided to return to the pathway of legality within the ambit of the Treaty. The new proposals, concerted at this Conference, were, whether they were practicable or not in execution, a lawful development of the Treaty, and in this respect sharply distinguished from the Decisions of Paris in the January preceding. However bad the Treaty might be, the London scheme provided a way of escape from a policy worse even than that of the Treaty,—acts, that is, of arbitrary lawlessness based on the mere possession of superior force.

In one respect the Second Ultimatum of London was lawless; for it included an illegal threat to occupy the Ruhr Valley if Germany refused its terms. But this was for the sake of M. Briand, whose minimum requirement was that he should at least be able to go home in a position to use, for conversational purposes, the charms of the precipice from which he was hurrying away. And the Ultimatum made no demand on Germany to which she was not already committed by her signature to the Treaty.

For this reason the German Government was right, in my judgment, to accept the Ultimatum unqualified, even though it still included demands impossible of fulfilment. For good or ill Germany had signed the Treaty. The new scheme added nothing to the Treatyʼs burdens, and, although a reasonable permanent settlement was left where it was before,—in the future,—in some respects it abated them. Its ratification, in May 1921, was in conformity with the Treaty, and merely carried into effect what Germany had had reason to anticipate for two years past. It did not call on her to do immediately—that is to say, in the course of the next six months—anything incapable of performance. It wiped out the impossible liability under which she lay of paying forthwith a balance of $3,000,000,000 due under the Treaty on May 1. And, above all, it obviated the occupation of the Ruhr and preserved the peace of Europe.

There were those in Germany who held that it must be wrong that Germany should under threats profess insincerely what she could not perform. But the submissive acceptance by Germany of a lawful notice under a Treaty she had already signed committed her to no such profession, and involved no recantation of her recent communication through the President of the United States as to what would eventually prove in her sincere belief to be the limits of practicable performance.

In the existence of such sentiments, however, Germanyʼs chief difficulty lay. It has not been understood in England or in America how deep a wound has been inflicted on Germanyʼs self–respect by compelling her, not merely to perform acts, but to subscribe to beliefs which she did not in fact accept. It is not usual in civilized countries to use force to compel wrongdoers to confess, even when we are convinced of their guilt; it is still more barbarous to use force, after the fashion of inquisitors, to compel adherence to an article of belief because we ourselves believe it. Yet towards Germany the Allies had appeared to adopt this base and injurious practice, and had enforced on this people at the point of the bayonet the final humiliation of reciting, through the mouths of their representatives, what they believed to be untrue.

But in the Second Ultimatum of London the Allies were no longer in this fanatical mood, and no such requirement was intended. I hoped, therefore, at the time that Germany would accept the notification of the Allies and do her best to obey it, trusting that the whole world is not unreasonable and unjust, whatever the newspapers may say; that Time is a healer and an illuminator; and that we had still to wait a little before Europe and the United States could accomplish in wisdom and mercy the economic settlement of the war.