An American Diplomat in China

by Paul S. Reinsch

President Wilson tried to make himself and others believe that with the acceptance of the Treaty and Covenant, the Shantung question would be solved through fulfilment by Japan of its promise "to restore Shantung Peninsula to China with full sovereignty," reserving only economic rights. This was his primary misconception. The ownership by a foreign government of a trunk railway reaching from a first-class port to the heart of China could not be correctly termed an economic right. Political control of such "economic rights" was exactly what American policy had tried to prevent for decades. The President submitted, also, in the apparent fear that Japanese delegates might follow the lead of the Italians and leave the Conference. Colonel House, it appears, was frightened into this belief and communicated it to President Wilson; the two believed the League was endangered, and that every sacrifice must be made to save it.

The fear was quite unfounded. I had seen indications enough, of which I had told the Government, that the Japanese set enormous store upon their membership in the Conference and their position in Paris. As a military, naval, and financial power, Japan could certainly not be put in the first class, notwithstanding the tactical advantages which the war had brought her. She would never forego the first-class status bestowed by the arrangements of the Peace Conference. The Japanese had not the remotest idea of throwing these advantages to the wind. The impression they produced on Colonel House simply proved their capacity for bluffing. Had President Wilson taken the trouble to understand the situation, he could without difficulty, by the use of friendly firmness, have secured a very different solution. As a matter of fact, it is now well known that the Japanese were ready to agree to an arrangement whereby the German rights in China should accrue to the Allied and Associated Powers jointly with an early reversion to China.

Probably nowhere else in the world had expectations of America's leadership at Paris been raised so high as in China. The Chinese trusted America, they trusted the frequent declarations of principle uttered by President Wilson, whose words had reached China in its remotest parts. The more intense was their disappointment and disillusionment due to the decisions of the old men that controlled the Peace Conference. It sickened and disheartened me to think how the Chinese people would receive this blow which meant the blasting of their hopes and the destruction of their confidence in the equity of nations.

In the universal despair I feared a revulsion of feeling against America; not because we were more to blame than others for the unjust decision, but because the Chinese had entertained a deeper belief in our power, influence, and loyalty to principle. They would hardly understand so abject and complete a surrender. Foreign papers, also, placed the chief responsibility on the United States. The British in China felt that their government had been forced into the unfortunate secret agreements with Japan when it could not help itself, because of the German danger and the difficulties Japan might raise by going over to the other side. The United States, whose hands were free, could have saved us all, they said, by insisting on the right solution. They had really hoped for this; their saying so now in their editorials and in private conversation was in no spirit of petty hostility, but they had to give vent to their feelings. I feared the Chinese might feel that they had been betrayed in the house of their friends, but they met the blow with sturdy spirit. They never wounded my feelings by anything approaching an upbraiding of the United States for the part that President Wilson played at Paris. They expressed to me their terrible dejection, but said merely that President Wilson must have encountered very great difficulties which they could know nothing about.

They all knew, of course, that the case of China had been weakened by the treaties made through the connivance of Tsao Ju-lin and his associates in the fall of 1918. Their resentment was turned toward Japan, which had thus taken advantage of the war and the weakness of China, and against the Chinese politicians who had become Japan's tools.

The Americans in China, as well as the British and the Chinese, were deeply dejected during these difficult weeks. From the moment America entered the war there had been a triumphant confidence that all this sacrifice and suffering would establish just principles of world action, under which mankind could live more happily and in greater security. That hope was now all but crushed.

In commemoration of the soldier dead, the American community gathered on May 30th, Decoration Day. It fell to me to make the address, in which I spoke of those recently stationed in Peking who had died during the war. Especially, I spoke of the fruitful career of Major Willard Straight. It was remarkable how many officers of the Marine Guard recently in Peking had gone through the brunt of the war and had been distinguished in their service. I spoke of General Neville, General Bowley, Commander Hutchins, Colonel Newell, and Colonel Holcombe, all of whom had been in the thick of it, and rejoiced in their record and the fact that though they passed through the valley of death they had been spared. My eyes often rested on the sad face of Mrs. Deering, transfigured with the mother's pride in that heroic son whose war letters, published by her, are one of the intimately human memorials of the great struggle.

I was impressed with how inadequately this wonderful country of China and the promise of its people were understood in America. I knew the difficulties and dangers to be overcome there, and I felt that Americans well-disposed toward China would take a hand in its development. But the "folks back home," especially the interests that controlled the economic life of America, remained blind and deaf, lavishing their money in Europe.

I had spent my energies freely, withholding assistance from none who deserved it, although I could easily have limited my official action within narrower and more convenient bounds. In developments that would mean a slow lift of this fine old civilization to a modern plane real American interests had come in. Foundations had been laid in the Canal Contract, the China Medical Board, the railway concessions, the creation of a Chino-American bank, and many other enterprises. America stood no longer with empty hands; she could not be confronted with the gibe so often used before: "It is easy for you to suggest generous action, for you have nothing to contribute."