In its essentials this scheme is very simple. I think that it satisfies my criterion of leaving every Finance Minister in Europe with a possible problem. The rest must come gradually, and I will not burden the argument of this book by considering along what lines the detailed solutions should be sought.
Who are the losers? Even on paper—far more in reality—every continental country gains an advantage. But on paper the United States and the United Kingdom are losers. What is each of them giving up?
Under the London Settlement Great Britain is entitled to 22 per cent of the receipts, which is from 780 to 1010 million gold marks per annum (£39,000,000 to £50,500,000 gold) according to which assumption is adopted as to the volume of German exports. She is owed by various European governments (including Russia, see Appendix No. IX.) £1,800,000,000, which at 6 per cent for interest and sinking fund is £108,000,000 per annum. On paper she would forego these sums, say £150,000,000 per annum, altogether. In actual fact, her prospects of securing more than a fraction of this amount are remote. Great Britain lives by commerce, and most Englishmen now need but little persuading that she will gain more in honor, prestige, and wealth by employing a prudent generosity to preserve the equilibrium of commerce and the well–being of Europe, than by attempting to exact a hateful and crushing tribute, whether from her victorious Allies or her defeated enemy.
The United States would forego on paper a capital sum of about 6500 million dollars, which, at 6 per cent, represents an annual charge of $390,000,000 (£78,000,000 gold). But in my opinion the chance of her being actually paid any considerable amount of this, if she tries to exact it, is decidedly remote.[111] Is there any likelihood of the United States joining in such a scheme soon enough (for I feel confident she will cancel these debts in the end) to be useful?
Most Americans, with whom I have discussed this question, express themselves as personally favorable to the cancelation of the European debts, but add that so great a majority of their countrymen think otherwise that such a proposal is at present outside practical politics. They think, therefore, that it is premature to discuss it; for the present, America must pretend she is going to demand the money and Europe must pretend she is going to pay it. Indeed, the position is much the same as that of German Reparation in England in the middle of 1921. Doubtless my informants are right about this public opinion, the mysterious entity which is the same thing perhaps as Rousseauʼs General Will. Yet, all the same, I do not attach, to what they tell me, too much importance. Public opinion held that Hans Andersenʼs Emperor wore a fine suit; and in the United States especially, public opinion changes sometimes, as it were, en bloc.
If, indeed, public opinion were an unalterable thing, it would be a waste of time to discuss public affairs. And though it may be the chief business of newsmen and politicians to ascertain its momentary features, a writer ought to be concerned, rather, with what public opinion should be. I record these platitudes because many Americans give their advice, as though it were actually immoral to make suggestions which public opinion does not now approve. In America, I gather, an act of this kind is considered so reckless, that some improper motive is at once suspected, and criticism takes the form of an inquiry into the culpritʼs personal character and antecedents.
Let us inquire, however, a little more deeply into the sentiments and emotions which underlie the American attitude to the European debts. They want to be generous to Europe, both out of good feeling and because many of them now suspect that any other course would upset their own economic equilibrium. But they donʼt want to be “done.” They do not want it to be said that once again the old cynics in Europe have been one too many for them. Times, too, have been bad and taxation oppressive; and many parts of America do not feel rich enough at the moment to favor a light abandonment of a possible asset. Moreover, these arrangements, between nations warring together, they liken much more closely than we do to ordinary business transactions between individuals. It is, they say, as though a bank having made an unsecured advance to a client, in whom they believe, at a difficult time when he would have gone under without it, this client were then to cry off paying. To permit such a thing would be to do an injury to the elementary principles of business honor.
The average American, I fancy, would like to see the European nations approaching him with a pathetic light in their eyes and the cash in their hands, saying, “America, we owe to you our liberty and our life; here we bring what we can in grateful thanks, money not wrung by grievous taxation from the widow and orphan, but saved, the best fruits of victory, out of the abolition of armaments, militarism, Empire, and internal strife, made possible by the help you freely gave us.” And then the average American would reply: “I honor you for your integrity. It is what I expected. But I did not enter the war for profit or to invest my money well. I have had my reward in the words you have just uttered. The loans are forgiven. Return to your homes and use the resources I release to uplift the poor and the unfortunate.” And it would be an essential part of the little scene that his reply should come as a complete and overwhelming surprise.
Alas for the wickedness of the world! It is not in international affairs that we can secure the sentimental satisfactions which we all love. For only individuals are good, and all nations are dishonorable, cruel, and designing. In deciding whether Italy (for example) must pay what she owes, America must consider the consequences of trying to make her pay,—so far as self–interest is concerned, in terms of economic equilibrium between America and Italy, and, so far as generosity is concerned, in terms of Italian peasants and their lives. And whilst the various Prime Ministers will telegraph something suitable, drafted by their private secretaries, to the effect that Americaʼs action makes the moment of writing the most important in the history of the world and proves that Americans are the noblest creatures living, America must not expect adequate or appropriate thanks.
Nevertheless, since time presses, we cannot rely on American assistance, and we must do without it if necessary. If America does not feel ready to participate in a Conference of Revision and Reconstruction, Great Britain should be prepared to do her part in the cancelation of paper claims, irrespective of similar action by the United States.