More and more the West-European nations, as also the United States and Japan, are realising these immense potentialities. Into many tropical countries, new crops are introduced, experiment stations established, railroads built, agricultural machines imported and efforts made not only to bring new lands into cultivation but also to increase the output of older lands. The experimental spread of cotton culture is a case in point. In 1902 the British Cotton Growing Association was created to promote the growth of cotton in British dependencies. The fibre is now being raised in Egypt, Northern Nigeria and Central Africa, while the possible output of West Africa, it is claimed, could supply all the mills of Lancashire. An ample supply of cotton for many decades to come seems reasonably assured.
The gradual filling up of the temperate zones emphasises the immense future possibilities of the tropical regions. According to Mr. Earley Vernon Wilcox, the total land area of the world is about 52,500,000 square miles (of which about 29,000,000 are considered fertile) and of this total area about 15,000,000 square miles are to be found in tropical and sub-tropical regions. "In 1914, the United States imported tropical agricultural products to the value of $600,000,000," and the exports from Ceylon, Brazil, the Dutch East Indies, Cuba, Hawaii and Egypt were enormous. "The control and proper development of the Tropics" writes Mr. Wilcox, "is a problem of tremendous consequences. Year by year more tropical products become necessities in cold climates. This is apparent from the mere casual consideration of a list of the commonly imported tropical products, such as cane sugar, cocoanuts, tea, coffee, cocoa, bananas, pineapples, citrus fruits, olives, dates, figs, sisal, Manila hemp, jute, Kapok, raffia, rubber, balata, gutta-percha, chicle and other gums, cinchona, tans and dyes, rice, sago, cassava, cinnamon, pepper, cloves, nutmeg, vanilla and other spices, oils, such as palm, China wood, candlenut, caster, olive, cotton, lemon oil, etc."[[11]]
In estimating the value of the economic gains to an imperialistic nation, a moralist might be inclined to introduce other factors. The problem whether a political subjection, which is of the essence of imperialism, is or is not justified raises an uncomfortable question in ethics. However carefully native rights are safe-guarded, these subject races are forced to obey a foreign will not primarily for their own good but for that of the sovereign power. Several industrial nations, above all the United States and in second instance, England, have undoubtedly embarked upon imperialism with a truly missionary zeal for the welfare of the natives. On the other hand, the twentieth century outrages in the Congo were almost as bad as the cruelties of the Conquistadores in Hispaniola and Peru. Even in well-governed countries, like Egypt, the introduction of European legal systems has resulted in the expropriation of innumerable small property-holders, while the increase in population, due to better economic and sanitary arrangements, has led to an intensification of misery. To what extent the average fellah of Egypt is better off than under the reign of Mehemet Ali or of Ismail, how much the Jamaican poor are more prosperous than the poor of Haiti is at best an unpromising inquiry. On the whole, there has doubtless been improvement. In Africa slave-catching has been abolished, and famine and pestilence circumscribed. But the gain such as it is, has been in the main incidental, the by-product of an exploitation primarily for the benefit of others.[[12]]
Yet however we discuss the moral question, the problem is determined by quite other considerations. So long as hundreds of millions in the industrial countries require and demand that these backward countries be utilised, humanitarian laws will not be allowed to interfere with the main economic purpose of the colonies. The imperialistic argument is always the same: the resources of the world must be unlocked. Three hundred thousand Indians must not be permitted to occupy a land capable of maintaining three hundred millions of civilised people.[[13]] The earth and the fulness thereof belong to the inhabitants of the earth, and if the product is somewhat unevenly divided, that, the imperialists assert, is hardly to be avoided. Back of the ethical argument lie necessity and power. Let the backward countries be exploited with the utmost speed; in the centuries to come, we will go into these moral questions at our leisure.
This submission of ethical ideals to economic needs is illustrated in the prevailing colonial labour policy, which reveals with clarity the quality and power of the economic impulse to imperialism. The great industrial nations, having reached the economic stage in which an ample labour supply can be secured without other compulsion than that of hunger, accept at home the ideal of a free labour contract, with a certain protection to the wage-earner. In their colonies, however, though they may wish to be fair to the natives, one form or another of forced labour is generally adopted. An African native, who wants little here below and can get that little easily, is compelled to neglect or surrender his diminutive banana patch or farm and come to the European's plantation or mine, or work for nothing or next to nothing on the public roads. Either this compulsion is exerted by means of a heavy hut tax, the money to pay which can be obtained only by wage-labour, or by stringent vagrancy laws, or by a refusal to allow the natives to become independent proprietors, or by outright expropriation. In some colonies penal labour contracts are enforced, and the miserable native who breaks his agreement is imprisoned or flogged. Credit bondage is also in favour, and no sooner does the native work off his original indebtedness than he finds that he is more in debt than ever. Finally if the natives cannot be compelled to give enough labour, coolies are imported, chiefly from China and India, and after their period of service are expatriated.
Even a more direct pressure is not always wanting. While the imperialistic nations theoretically oppose slavery, and have rather effectively checked the horrible slave trade of the Arabs, they themselves have not always escaped the temptation to introduce slavery under new forms. At various times and in various colonies, the corvée has been adopted both for public and private works, and in the Belgian Congo a thinly disguised slavery in its most atrocious form has been adopted. To justify this European slavery, which is infinitely more brutal than was the mild and customary native slavery, the same ethical and religious arguments are advanced as were utilised by the sixteenth century Spaniards in establishing their encomiendas. The natives, especially in Africa, are lumped together as worthless idlers, and their benevolent rulers are urged to teach these benighted creatures the Christianity of hard and continuous labour.[[14]] But the real motive is to secure the greatest amount of profits for the investors and of tropical produce for the European populations. Whether even from this point of view a less exacting and ruthless labour policy might not be desirable need not here be discussed. What is immediately significant is the immense power of the forces driving European nations into colonial policies, intended to increase the export of tropical products.
Because of this demand for tropical produce, tropical markets, tropical fields for investment, the vast machinery of imperialism is set in motion. Because of this demand, present and future, European armies march over deserts and jungles, and slay thousands of natives in spectacular battues. To satisfy the needs of European populations and adventurers, millions of brown men toil in the crowded, dirty cities of India, on sun-lit plantations in Java and Egypt, in the cotton fields of Nigeria and Togo. To grasp this imperialism, to realise the big, pulsing, dramatic movement of it, one must view the peons on hennequin plantations, the barefoot Mexican labourers in silver mines, the rack-rented fellaheen in the Nile Valley, the patient Chinese and Japanese toilers on the Hawaiian sugar plantations. One must gain a sense of the dull ambitions and compulsions working on these men, the desire for the cheap products of Manchester and Chemnitz, the craving for liquor, the fear of starvation and of the lash. And as these coloured peoples toil, not knowing for what they toil, other men in London and Paris, in Berlin, Brussels and New York are speculating in the securities which represent their toil. They are buying "Kaffirs" as they once bought "Yankee rails." Seated in their offices, these white-faced men are irrigating deserts, building railroads through jungles and wildernesses, and secure in the faith that all men, black, yellow and brown, can be made to want things and work for things, are revolutionising countries they have never seen. Even these organisers, these seemingly omnipotent shapers of the world, are themselves only half-conscious agents of a vast economic process not solely desired by a class or nation but dictated by a far wider necessity. It is a process varied in its many-sided appeal; a process which reveals itself in the transfusion of capitalistic ideals by means of little school-houses in the Philippines, by means of the strict and rather harsh justice in British colonies, by means of the unconscious teachings of Christian missionaries, by means of the swift decay of ancient, tenacious faiths. It is a process linking the ends of the world, uniting the statesmen and financiers of the imperialistic nation with wretches in the swarming cities of the East, with half-drunken men seeking for rubber in tangled forests, with negroes searching over great expanses of country for the ivory tusks of elephants, with the Kaffirs in the diamond mines who enter naked and depart naked, and whose bodies are examined each day to discover the diamonds which might be buried in the flesh. At one end of the line are the urbane diplomats seated about a table at some Algeciras, at the other, in the very depths of distant colonies, there is slavery, flagellation, political and intellectual corruption, missionary propaganda, and the day to day business and planning of white settlers, who are anxious to make their fortune quick and get back to "God's own country." It is a process so vast, so compelling, so interwoven with the deepest facts of our modern life that our ordinary moral judgments seem pale and unreal in contact with it. And so too with religion. Christianity which changed in its passage from Judea to Rome and from Rome to the Northern Barbarians takes on again a new aspect when imperialistic nations encounter the peoples they are to utilise. This imperialistic Christianity defends forced labour and slavery as an advance over a mere doing nothing. The parable of the ten talents is the one Christian doctrine in which the imperialist fervently believes.
This modern imperialism, which compels subject peoples to work at extractive industries at the behest of the swarming millions of the industrial nations, which excites, stimulates, urges, pushes, forces coloured peoples to raise bananas and cotton and buy shirts, gew-gaws, and whiskey, is at bottom a movement compelled by the economic expansion and necessity of the older countries. It is an outlet for the pressure, strain and expansiveness of the growing industrial nations, an outlet for industrialism itself. It ranges the industrial nations as a whole against the backward agricultural countries, and binds them together into a forced union, in which the industrial nations guide and rule and the backward peoples are ruled.
But while the industrial nations have a common interest in imperialism, they have also separating and antagonistic interests. Though the nations would prefer to have any one of their number, England, Germany or France, rule all tropical countries rather than go without tropical colonies at all, each nation, for economic, as well as political and military reasons, desires that it, and not its neighbour and competitor, should be the supreme Colonial Power. It is because of this fact that modern imperialism takes on the form of a bitter nationalistic competition for colonies, and leads to diplomatic struggles and eventually to war.
[[1]] "White Capital and Coloured Labour," pp. 80, 81. London, 1910.