Mr. Balfour in his defense of the secrecy of diplomatic intercourse, says that the work of diplomacy is exactly similar to the work which is done every day between two great business firms. He then argues that, in all such relationships, it is unwise to air difficulties in public. Bismarck used the more homely illustration of a horse trade, the participants in which should not be expected to tell each other all they know about the prospective bargain. That view is putting diplomacy on a rather lowly footing. One might expect a somewhat different temper among men dealing with momentous public affairs than the bluff-and-haggle of a petty private transaction. Yet such tactics have actually been found useful in diplomacy. Mr. Balfour is on sounder ground when he says, “In private, in conversations which need not go beyond the walls of the room in which you are, both parties may put their case as strongly as they like and no soreness remains,” but “directly a controversy becomes public, all that fair give-and-take becomes difficult or impossible.” This, of course, implies a somewhat low estimate of public intelligence and self-control, of which more later.
The greatest vice of a secret diplomatic policy, working in the dark and concealing international undertakings, lies in the inevitable generating of mutual suspicion and the total destruction of public confidence among the different countries which compose the family of nations. No nation is so bad as imagination, confused and poisoned by secrecy and by the suggestion of dire plottings, would paint it. Agreements and understandings which do not exist at all are imagined, the nature of those which actually have been made is misjudged, and animosities are exaggerated; thus the public is quite naturally put in that mood of suspicion and excitement which renders it incapable of judging calmly when apparently startling facts suddenly emerge.
Secret diplomacy destroys public confidence, however, in a still more insidious manner: by the practice of using a language of ideal aims and humanitarian professions in order to conceal and veil the most narrowly selfish, unjust and unconscionable actions. The conventional language of diplomacy still carries in it many of the phrases and concepts instilled by the false idealism of the eighteenth century, to which at that time diplomacy gave lip worship. The most disconcerting performances of this kind are the profuse and reiterated declarations promising the maintenance of the sovereignty, independence and integrity of certain countries, when in fact the action really taken was quite to the contrary effect.
The diplomacy of Japan has manifested peculiar expertship in the use of phrases that are associated with some wise public dispensation or arrangement and which have a calming effect—to cover action not remotely in fact contributing to such beneficent providences. The sovereignty, integrity and independence of a neighboring country are guaranteed in solemn terms at the very moment when force, intrigue and every tricky artifice are secretly employed to destroy them. “Strong popular demand” is alleged as a reason for harsh action abroad, in a country where the expressions of public opinions as well as policy itself are controlled by a narrow group, with absolutist authority. There is so much talk of “frank discussion” that every one is put on his guard as soon as the word “frank” is uttered.
The “peace of Asia,” a “Monroe Doctrine for Asia,” the “Open Door,” “greatest frankness,” “hearty coöperation with other powers,” are heralded at times when the context of facts makes a strange commentary. But while such a discrepancy is very strident in a country where military absolutism wields control over diplomacy, with a grudging obeisance to representative forms, yet other countries are by no means free from this hypocrisy. What blasted promise of equity in all that succession of declarations concerning Korea, China, Persia, parts of Turkey, and Morocco. What confusion of political ideals in supporting Denikin, Wrangel, and Horthy as defenders of “representative government.”
When Russia and Japan, in response to Secretary Knox’ Manchurian proposal had made their secret arrangements to defeat his policy, Great Britain, though it had made many reassuring protestations at Washington, nevertheless had secretly acquiesced (to cite a Russian diplomatic paper) in the “recognition of our (Russian) sphere of influence in Northern Manchuria, Mongolia, and Western China, with the exception of Kashgar, as well as the undertaking not to hinder us in the execution of our plans in these territories, and herself to pursue no aims which we should have to regard as incompatible with our interest.” And it was also stated that Great Britain, in return, was to receive “recognition of her freedom of action and her privileged position in Tibet.” This was in 1912.
Thus were the solemn declarations relating to the Open Door and the integrity of China applied in action.
Subsequent departure from the letter and spirit of such declarations may indeed sometimes be excused on account of changed circumstances; but frequently it is quite apparent to those who know what is going on, that such well-sounding declarations are made for public consumption, at the very time when the contrary action is taken secretly.
This is indeed nothing less than a crime against the public opinion and conscience of the world, which cannot be condemned in terms too strong. It shows a thorough contempt of the people, who are supposed to be either of so little intelligence or of so short a memory that such vain professions may succeed in veiling the true inwardness of political intrigue. This practice tends to engender thorough confusion in the public mind as to standards of right and justice in international affairs; it shakes the basis on which alone sound international relations can grow up; as, indeed, all social relations must rest upon confidence in an underlying justice and equity.
Closely allied to the practice of making public declarations in international affairs which do not correspond with the specific action taken, is the control of the press and the censure of news. This is indeed a matter which transcends the subject of diplomacy, because a system of press control and censure is often applied by other departments of the government than the diplomatic branch. As far as foreign affairs are concerned, it is used in an effort to support foreign policy, and it therefore shares the same defects which inhere in the old diplomacy. Like secret diplomatic control, it is accounted for on the assumption that the people cannot be trusted with the entire truth, and that carefully selected portions of the truth have to be put forth in order to make them ready to support the policy considered necessary by the leaders. This involves the assumption of an enormous responsibility by a few leaders in determining by themselves what the public interest requires and instead of relying on the strength naturally to be gained from a spontaneous public opinion, to attempt to fashion that opinion for specific purposes. Press control and censure, with the incomplete and warped information which it implies, is one of the evil accompaniments considered necessary in the conduct of a war, for the safety of the combatant nation. The principle that strategic information must be kept secret is extended, at such times, out of all reason. After hostilities have actually been concluded, this practice tends to subsist and to continue the evils of misinformation and confusion in the public judgment. The manner in which all news emanating from the Balkan and Near Eastern countries has been censured since the war, has made it impossible for the public of the world to form a just conception as to what is there going on. Control of the press and censorship likewise resulted in such confusion in the public mind concerning the problems of Russia, that there remained no reliable basis for a policy which would facilitate the restoration of more normal conditions there, in a sympathetic spirit with the struggles and difficulties of the Russian people.