It will not, for example, be consistent with the character of a world power to apply to the government of new colonies the same methods, or lack of method, that has prevailed in the government of our cities and some of our states. We cannot hope for success if we carry the spoils system into the difficult administration of foreign lands and people. Colonial work calls for special fitness in the civil service, for long and careful training. Shall we turn it over to the politicians, who have thus far, with some honorable exceptions, monopolized our diplomatic service. As a rule, our consuls and ministers, and even our ambassadors, have been patriots with "claims upon the administration"—not based upon special education and fitness, but for political service rendered. As a result, many—perhaps even a majority—of our representatives abroad have distinguished themselves and their country by such antics as were explained or forgiven only because the men were Americans, and therefore protected by that "special providence" of which I have spoken. Is it imagined that we can administer colonies after this method? If so, a great and painful surprise is in store for us.
For the present administration it must be said that the President's choice of men for work in the new colonies inspires the hope of better things. In the Philippine Commission, for example, every man has justified his selection by special ability or experience, or both. If this course be followed to the end the nation is relieved at the start of a grave anxiety. Let us hope that it is so.
But with even the best intentions we have difficulties to face that are not due to any fault of our own, but are rather inherent in our institutions, in our form of government. Ours is a democracy, with all the virtues and all the defects of that form of government. It is obvious that such work as is now to be done in the East calls for a strong central executive force. Russia has been able to fortify her position in the East not only because she is rich and powerful, but because her form of government is an autocracy. Germany is, in name at least, a constitutional monarchy, but it is because her government owns and administers the railroads, and a powerful and perfectly organized militarism permeates the whole fabric, that she has been able to make such advance as a world power since she became an empire at Versailles. There is no time here to elaborate these propositions, but they are obviously true.
Our government, on the other hand, is designedly weak in the executive and strong in the legislative department. When we broke away, at the beginning of our history, from a monarchy and from a monarch who was impatient of legislative interference, the pendulum swang to the other side, carrying us to the opposite extreme. We safeguarded ourselves against the possibility of a central power of overweening strength. And all our history has been the history of a powerful legislative and a comparatively weak executive. To us bureaucracy is hateful. We protest as a people against an office-holding class. Every citizen feels that he too may become an office-holder—is looking forward, possibly, to that consummation. This may explain the indulgence with which we regard the faults of those actually in office. If at the end of its term in office an administration is able to account in some way for all the money it has handled, no further questions are asked. As to the quality of the service rendered for the money, that is a matter not to be dwelt upon with painful emphasis.
Such laxity will hardly suffice for the administration of colonies planted amidst remote peoples of another race, requiring delicate handling and the tactful management which can come only from special knowledge and training. Nor is such special knowledge to be gained in the brief term of one administration's power. Much less can the matter be left to the national luck or even the national cleverness. "There are some difficulties," said one of our public men recently, "that do not yield to mere enthusiasm." We must have a strong administrative arm to the government, and the question is, how such an adjunct is to be fitted upon the existing institutions, theories and traditions of our government. I do not doubt that it will be; simply point out that here is a matter for profound thought and honest endeavor along new lines. "There is no form of government," said Dr. Franklin to his colleagues in the federal convention, "that may not be a blessing if it is well administered." There is no legitimate task or emergency to which our government may not prove adequate if wisely and liberally directed. We cannot throw overboard the wisdom of our fathers, but we are bound to construe the precepts they laid down in the light of new emergencies as they arise. The words of Lincoln, uttered in 1860 at Cooper Union, when the extension or repression of slavery was before the country as an issue, are equally applicable to the issue which confronts us now:
"I do not say that we are bound to follow implicitly in whatever our fathers did. To do that would be to discard the lights of current experience, to reject all progress, all improvement. What I do say is that if we would supplant the opinions and policy of the fathers in any case, we should do so on evidence so conclusive that even their great authority, fairly considered and weighed, cannot stand."
I firmly believe that we shall be able to develop for our new colonies an administrative branch sufficiently strong for the successful conduct of their affairs and yet preserve all the essentials of republican government.
It may be conceded that the viceregal office, with its regal functions and authority, is essential to British rule in India. Yet, properly considered, England is as truly a democracy as the United States.
Indeed, there is both education and inspiration for us in the study of the British rule in India. Not by any means that it is perfect—what human institution is perfect? Man is selfish, thoughtless, cruel. The opium traffic, both in India and China, and the introduction of the whiskey "peg" among a "heathen" race, which, with all its faults, preserved for so many centuries the virtue of temperance—these are blots—big, dark, indelible blots—on the good name of England. Nor is it wholly without reason that the complaint is so often made that legislation for India is too often inspired by the desires of Birmingham and Manchester, rather than by the needs of Hindustan.
But there are spots on the sun of a splendid performance. There are seven thousand miles of "black water" between the British Isles and Hindustan. The population of the former is thirty-five millions; of the latter, two hundred and fifty millions—one-fifth of the human race. Yet this vast peninsular is held in absolute subjection by the people of those "tight little isles" so far away. In the whole civil and military establishment of British India there are but one hundred thousand whites, as against nearly twice that number of natives. How small a numerical force to rule those teeming millions! And yet, year by year the British element grows smaller and the native element larger and more potent in the government of India. "The English," says Mr. G. W. Steevens in a recent letter to the London Mail, "are still the dominant race, but the real ruler of India is the Babu."