The use of such methods is defended from two points of view; from that of the trader who looks for a better bargain through not having given away his entire hand at the beginning; and from that of the builder who desires to work quietly without interruptions from an excitable public, who desires to avoid difficulties and smooth away contrasts which publicity would tend to exaggerate.
There is an ex post facto publicity of diplomatic policy. If this is afforded as soon as a new situation has arisen or a new agreement has been created, some of the harm of secrecy is avoided. In such a case the statesmen, cabinet, or conference, practically give assurance that, if allowed to work quietly on a certain problem, they will produce a solution which will commend itself in general to the sense of equity of the nation or nations concerned; although the sum total of the arrangement may contain details which, considered by themselves, would be unacceptable and which might have interfered with the making of an accord, if unduly emphasized or given publicity during the negotiations.
Mr. Balfour in his speech of March 19, 1918, which has already been referred to, indeed speaks quite convincingly of the advantage of confidential relations and of secrecy in negotiations, but he goes so far as strongly to deprecate a demand for information on the part of Parliament. In that he certainly shows a measure of anti-democratic bias, as when he says, “Do not suppose that we can do the work better by having to explain it to a lot of people who are not responsible. That is not the way to get business properly done.” He therefore rejects the idea of a parliamentary committee of control in the matter of foreign relations. He agrees, however, that the existence of secret treaties is an evil, although he thinks that it may be at certain times necessary, because the associated treaty power may desire it. He is mildly deprecatory, at best.
Count Czernin, speaking to the Austrian delegations on June 24, 1918, concerning President Wilson’s fourteen points, stated that he has no objection to the introduction of the principle of “open covenants,” although he confesses that he does not know by what means effective adherence thereto can be assured. Concerning diplomatic negotiations, which he treats simply as a matter of business, he points out the advantages of secrecy from the point of view of trading. Moreover, if there were full publicity, the general public might passionately oppose every action involving any concession as a defeat. This would not be conducive to peaceable relations.
There are those who believe that the chief evils of secret diplomacy would be avoided if ample opportunity were given for discussion in representative assemblies, if there were a parliamentary committee keeping constantly in touch with the conduct of foreign relations, and if treaties and declarations of war could not be made without the consent of the national legislature. Some advocates of democratic control go so far as to reason that a decision to make war and thereby to order the shedding of human blood, should not be made without a national referendum vote.
On the other hand, those opposed to all publicity of diplomatic affairs argue that international policies cannot be determined in the market place. They hark back to DeTocqueville, who holds that as democracy cannot be expected to regulate the details of an important undertaking, it is particularly unqualified to deal with international matters where secrecy, discretion, and patience are required. Followers of this opinion believe that the conduct of foreign affairs is best placed quite unreservedly in the hands of responsible statesmen, who have greater information, larger experience and more self-control than the average of humanity. They generally have in view the preservation of national interests, under conditions of peace if possible; they will not be inflamed by exciting incidents, but will keep these in proper subordination to the general plan. Such details, if made public, would easily lead to occurrences that would upset the results of wise planning. As Lord Cromer has said, it is such untoward chance incidents which cannot be controlled that are to be feared, rather than any deliberate plotting on the part of diplomats. Such responsible statesmen always remain accountable for the general results of their policy; they are conscious of the importance of their trust, and therefore are a safer repository of discretionary powers than a general committee.
Back of these arguments, however, there usually lies the conviction that the public is superficial, easily swayed, excitable and altogether delighting more in the hurrah of war than in the humdrum of peace. It might be remarked that if such had actually been the case, the most recent experience of the people with war has probably given them a different idea of the attractiveness of that kind of excitement; unless indeed the mass of humanity are irremediably and forever fools, when taken in the aggregate.
The sensational character of the daily press must be considered in this connection. The news value of normal, peaceable developments is very small. It is therefore a godsend to the newspapers when something extraordinary happens, particularly in international affairs. For this reason, the daily news frequently presents an untrue or warped picture of the actual situation. Gilbert Murray asks what people are referred to by those who demand popular control of diplomacy; are they the people of educational societies, or of the music halls? The public is not homogeneous, or so organized as to give expression to convictions on current affairs which have been maturely considered. It lacks the leisure and training for penetrating superficialities and going to the bottom of difficult questions. Lord Cromer believes in general that democracies are not peaceful, and he refers particularly to the American democracy for proof; Lord Lytton said, “Governments are generally for diplomacy, the people for war.”
Men of all shades of opinion are agreed that the people are not greatly interested in foreign affairs, and the opponents of proposals of democratic control argue that it would be useless to create machinery for action where there exists no interest, nor purpose to act.
It is quite true that the public during the nineteenth century seemed less interested in foreign affairs than during the eighteenth. At the earlier time, diplomacy was a fascinating, personal game, about which the wiseacres in the coffee houses were eager to make their criticisms and prognostications. When the middle class came to power in the nineteenth century, it was primarily interested in economic and other domestic questions, and was satisfied to leave the conduct of foreign affairs to statesmen and diplomats. The constantly growing political consciousness of the public at large was concentrated chiefly on questions of internal politics and reform. Foreign affairs, as they reached the public, were thought of still from the point of view of the onlooker, rather than of him who actually had to bear the brunt of the burden. Those who had to bleed and die when hostilities had been brought about, never had any chance, nor determination, to influence the course of diplomacy leading up to wars.