THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Malbone W, Graham 2>V?^ THE END OF THE WAR THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON - CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO THE END OF THE WAR BY WALTER E. WEYL Author of "The New Democracy," American World Policies," etc. Jl5eto gork THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1918 All rights reserved COPTEIQHT, 1918 bt the macmillan company Set up and electrotyped. Published, May, 1918 jy CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE Postscript 1 I The Elusive Victory 17 II Pacifists and Patriots 38 III The Conversion of America 50 IV The War Against Militarism 73 V Spoiling the Enemy 98 VI Sacred Egoism 121 VII America as Arbiter 139 VIII The True Alignment 157 IX The War Beneath the War 174 X Is Germany Incorrigible? 189 XI A Conclusive Peace 207 XII Guarantees 224 XIII The Grand Alliance 232 XIV Obstacles to Internationalism .... 248 XV At the Peace Conference 273 XVI After the Peace Conference 296 15%!-^-^ POSTSCRIPT As I write this postscript, which is also an intro- duction, the fate of the world is being decided upon the fields of Picardy. Hundreds of millions in all the Allied countries are praying for the success of the British, French and American soldiers, who are seeking to stem the tide of German invasion and end for all time the dream of a German world-dominion. While that battle rages all other pre-occupations are thrust from our minds. If, by evil chance, the Ger- man arms are crowned with success, the end of the war will be one that we cannot contemplate except with horror. The Allies must hold, must fling back this gigantic onrush, or the power of decision will pass from them and will rest with their German conquerors. The book to which this is a postscript is based upon the assumption that the Allies can hold their own and can thus exert a decisive influence upon peace and upon the diplomacy that leads to peace. The book is an appeal to America to assume leader- ship in that diplomacy, to eliminate imperialistic elements from the demands of our Allies, and to at- tempt a settlement based on internationalism. Dur- ing the period while the book was being written the chances for such an American leadership were ex- 2 POSTSCRIPT cellent and the President showed signs of moving in this direction. He made repeated advances, though frequently too late. But at all times he met with obstinate and usually successful resistance. As a consequence less was accomplished than might have been desired. During the six months from April 1 until October 1, 1917, and even afterwards, the war might have been concluded on the basis of internationalism and democracy. The Germans were discouraged; their U-boat campaign had netted less than had been ex- pected and America's participation promised an eventual victory to the Allies. Russia, although tottering, was still capable of offering resistance; the Italian army, as yet undefeated, stood firm in the Julian Alps; in Germany itself a democratic movement was in full swing. German discontent was stronger than at any previous time, and clamor- ous demands were being made, as also in Austria, for a democratic peace. It was a golden oppor- tunity. That opportunity has now been lost. By mal- adroitness, by diplomatic errors and by a display of callousness and insincerity, our Allies proved that they did not understand and could not act. The Allies revealed an inelasticity, an intolerance of the new Russian democracy and a thinly disguised de- sire for conquered territories that made diplomacy on a high level impossible. Rather than revise their POSTSCRIPT 3 imperialistic war aims, they permitted Russia to go down, almost forced her to make a separate peace, and allowed Germany to break her up into a number of smaller states, easy to pit against one another. Italy's desire to gain hasty possession of coveted territory and lack of unity among the Allies led to Italian defeat in the fall of 1917 and to a further strengthening of the autocratic and militaristic classes in Germany. Finally, by permitting, if not encouraging, Japan to invade Siberia, in circum- stances which indicated that the proposed interven- tion was to be a predatory attack, our AUies set upon themselves the stamp of imperialism. To these short-sighted actions and omissions of our Allies the President of the United States has been steadfastly opposed. Repeatedly he has stood alone for the long-time policy based on principle, while statesmen in the Allied countries clamoured for immediate ends, a profitable victory and a puni- tive peace. For his owm country President Wilson has made no special claims and he has insisted re- peatedly that America fights only for democracy. His influence has been cast on the side of a reason- able peace based on internationalism. If hitherto he has failed to bring the Allied governments to his point of view, it may be argued in his defence that the task was difficult and the opposition strong. It may be conceded, perhaps, that President Wil- son's ideals were sometimes left to hang high in the 4 POSTSCRIPT diplomatic heavens and were not always brought down to solid earth. As in his protests to the belligerents before our entrance into the war, so in his world-addresses since, there have been at times a lack of reality, a failure to put force back of ideas, an unwillingness to use even the pressure of world opinion to compel opponents to accept his con- clusions. The crucial defect of his policy has been its detachment. Here was a great man uttering noble sentiments in noble language, yet missing one chance after another to translate those sentiments into decisive action and to force adherence upon un- willing Allies. It is notoriously easy to judge after the event and notoriously difficult to be fair towards those com- pelled to make immediate decisions. We cannot reasonably demand that President Wilson should have foreseen all the incalculable events of the world war. He made errors, but he avoided innumerable worse errors, and in his ideals, in his sympathy for democracy, as also in his broad view of the whole situation he proved himself immeasurably superior to the statesmen of our Allies. In the light of sub- sequent events, however, it now seems obvious that before our declaration of war we should have at- tempted a firm settlement with our Allies. At that time, when we had already broken off negotiations with Germany but had not yet begun hostilities, we already surmised, if we did not actually know, that POSTSCRIPT 5 our co-belligerents had entered into mutual agree- ments hostile in spirit to all that we hoped to achieve in this war. Instead of merely insisting upon our individual innocence we should have demanded, as a condition of our belligerency, a general statement of the terms of the Allies. We might quietly have said to their governments: ''Either revise your war aims in conformity with principles of interna- tionalism, so as to rob them of all tinge of imperial- ism and vindictiveness, or we will not join. We will arm and build merchant ships and shall be ready when you have so changed your terms, but until then not a man, nor a ship, nor a dollar. We are willing to fight on your side for world-democracy but not for secret treaties which you may have made among yourselves." A second opportunity to urge an international peace presented itself when the Russian Republic published its formula of ''no annexations and no in- demnities." We should immediately have accepted, if not that exact formula, at least one that breathed the same spirit, and should have insisted upon its acceptance by our Allies. We should thus have strengthened the Kerensky Government and retained the aUogiance of Russia. The projected Stockholm Conference was another of our failures. Again we were given the chance to invite publicity and again we refused. Like our Allies, we pretended to con- sider this Conference a mere German subterfuge; 6 POSTSCRIPT in other words we played the German game. If Allied imperialism had more to fear from open dis- cussion than had German militarism, if we were afraid to risk a clarification and publication of war aims, then our moral position in the war was pre- carious. Nor does this end the list of our disastrous omis- sions. In July, 1917, the majority of the delegates in the German Reichstag offered peace resolutions which for many months President Wilson ignored, although it was obvious, from the President's own speeches, that only by strengthening this inconstant and insecure parliamentary majority could we hope to achieve the peace for which we fought. Similarly, our attitude towards the secret treaties of the Allies, of which the President learned in the late spring of 1917, revealed an uncertain and hesitating diplo- macy. It must be remembered that it was the knowl- edge of these treaties that enabled the German rulers to smother the discontent of their own peo- ple ; the Junkers appealed to German democrats on the plea that the AUies wished to crush Germany. At any time after June, therefore, the President, by calling a public inter- Allied conference, might have forced a denunciation of these treaties and a revision of peace terms. On the other hand, without such action it was impossible, as events proved, to hold Russia to our side. For the Russians, fully ac- quainted with these secret imperialistic compacts, POSTSCRIPT 7 entered into by England, France, Italy, Roumania and Japan, firmly believed that the governments of those nations were as grasping as was that of Ger- many. If America had a different policy, why did she consort with these nations? Why did she not frankly state her opinion concerning those secret agreements, published in Petrograd but not pub- lished in the leading journals of London, Paris and New York? It would be quite unfair to describe this American diplomacy as tepid and timid ; and equally unfair to represent Mr. Wilson as a man who is always missing trains. Such general accusations do not justly ap- praise the moral quality and the intellectual percep- tions of the President, who with little forewarning was faced with a new, menacing, complicated, and, above all, a constantly and rapidly changing situa- tion. It was difficult for him (or us) to apply coercion to friends and Allies and ungracious to dis- trust the aims of nations, whose sacrifices in this war had been larger and their loyalty older than our own, and it was equally difficult to know how far we might trust even the most fair-spoken of our enemies. Moreover, the defect of the President's policy was a defect, in a sense even a function, of its qualities. A policy that aims at international- ism, at mutual confidence among nations, must rely in large measure upon moral forces, must be patient and tolerant, even at the risk of becoming leaden- 8 POSTSCRIPT footed. It cannot always make quick decisions or summary judgments. Its path is not laid out in advance, and its errors must be judged more lightly than are those of the traditional diplomacy with its narrower and more selfish aims and its more ancient rules of procedure. Whatever the cause of our inability to influence our Allies, however, it is within the province of fair criticism, even in these dangerous times, to suggest that this failure of ours to act decisively has dimin- ished the moral value of our participation. We have erred on the side of caution and generosity. We have too highly valued the intelligence of Allied statesmen and too sharply discounted our own. Striving for concord within the Alliance, we have feared to speak the truth lest it offend one or another of the nations heroically fighting by our side. But a true concert among allies is attained not when each is promised everything but when all are inspired by a single ideal. We have been silenced by what we were assured was the superior wisdom and the older experience of European statecraft. We have held our peace. In so doing we have involved ourselves in a grave and general error. We have forced ourselves to believe that we could fight for democracy and main- tain the integrity of the Alliance despite secret ar- rangements violating the principles for which we POSTSCRIPT 9 fight. We have believed that we could trust to selfishness, enlightened and unenlightened, to over- come the brutal militaristic spirit of Germany. We have fought fire with fire and been burned in the process. We have kept our own skirts clean and not considered whether those of our Allies were clean or filthy. We have believed that an alliance could be half-moral and half-immoral, half-democratic and international and half-imperialistic. We have not faced the problem squarely. By not facing the prob- lem we have allowed the military supremacy to pass temporarily to our enemy and have destroyed for the time being our moral advantage, the greatest source of our strength. Today the chance for a peace based on interna- tionalism is slimmer than at any time since our en- trance into the war. Having handed over Russia to the Germans and isolated and lost Roumania, we now seem likely to force Russia to become a politi- cal, as well as an economic ally to Germany. We have created conditions where time no longer fights decisively in our favour and where the pressure of war begins to bear as heavily upon our associates as upon our enemies. We have robbed ourselves of the solace and unifying power of a great ideal, and have made it possible, both in the countries of our Allies and in those of our enemies, for tlie worst elements in the population to gain control and to 10 POSTSCRIPT end the war by a compromised imperialist peace. We have failed because we did not have the courage of our convictions. The opportunity is lost, and yet it may return. If I believed that no chance remained for a peace based upon international principle, I should be loth to publish this book. The chance, though dwindling, still exists. There may again come about, perhaps as a result of the gigantic battle now fought in France, such a balancing of belligerent forces as will permit the United States once more to occupy the favourable moral and strategic position which she held during the months from April to October 1917, and, to a less degree, even until February 1918. If the opportunity again occurs, if we are no longer faced with the naked need of defence against a mili- taristic Germany entrenched and fortified by our mistakes, we cannot afford to repeat the vital errors which render our present situation so hazardous. Yet it is exactly these errors which we are again urged to commit. In our present mood of exag- gerated depression the claim is made that the policy of reconciliation has failed. But, in truth, it has not failed; it has not been tried. Indeed what has so signally failed has been the exactly contrary policy of fighting imperialism with imperialism and greed with greed. Today we are again exhorted to shut our eyes, to offer no negotiated peace and ac- cept none, to make no distinction among Germans, POSTSCRIPT 11 all of whom are equally brutal and hypocritical, and not to think of peace until the enemy is prostrate, starved, shattered, beaten to a pulp. Then we may talk terms. Doubtless this advice is a natural reaction from the new revelation of German militarism vouchsafed to the Russians. The punitive peace inflicted by Germany upon Russia and Roumania has once more proved, what was painfully familiar before, that the Imperial German Government is still heartless, truculent and utterly remote from considerations of common decency and even of larger statesmanship. The Junkers, again in the saddle, are the same swag- gering brood, unrepentant and exultant. The radi- cal and democratic movement in Germany seems at low ebb, for German liberals are crushed by German victories and are overborne by a rising flood of jingoism. Yet the task of all democrats opposed to German militarism, tliough now more difficult, is the same as before. Our aim is to end this menace, to end it once for all, to end it in the only way it can be ended, by the creation of a secure international sys- tem. Today we still strengthen German militarism when we threaten Germany with destruction ; we still tie German democrats to the Junker chariot wliecl when we fight for conquests and punitive indemni- ties instead of for the things that they, as well as we, desire. It will now take longer and more des- 12 POSTSCRIPT perate fighting to gain our ends than if we had adopted a wiser policy, and we, like our enemies, must pay a heavier toll. At our own great cost we must break down anew the Junker prestige, which was sinking in 1917 but has again risen. Unless, however, we fight for a program to which German democrats also can subscribe, unless we fight liter- ally to make the world safe for democracy, for the German as well as the American, British and Rus- sian democracies, all our new expenditure of blood will be futile. We shall accomplish nothing even if after unparelleled sacrifices we gain the supreme military victory and our khaki-clad soldiers march in triumph down the silent Unter den Linden. If we and our Allies fight this war as we have fought it for almost four years, for Dalmatia, Con- stantinople and various Turkish islands, if we fight for a peace in which we at our own will and pleasure are to determine German and Austrian boundaries as Germany now determines those of Russia, the war is lost. Not necessarily, or at least not pri- marily, in a military, but in a moral sense. We may end the dream of German world dominion but shall not have come nearer to a peace based on interna- tionalism, and shall have incurred the danger of a compromised imperialist peace. The war might have ended in a compromise which would have been a victory had the compromise been based on a new international order. If, however, the compromise POSTSCRIPT 13 ending the war is nothing but a dividing up of Rus- sia, China and a few other countries by nations too tired to fight, by nations reconciled solely by the privilege of spoiling enemy and ally, then we have an ignoble peace, and the war for democracy is a failure and our high pretensions are a mockery. The opportunity for a democratic peace may again recur. By pressure upon the Western front, the Allies may force democratic groups in Germany to make overtures for a peace based on international- ism and on a true self-determination of Russia, for a peace free of all taint of spoliation. It will be difficult to do this, however, unless our Allies refrain from giving final sanction to plans of Japanese con- quest in Siberia. Once we concede to Japan the right to conquer this territory we shall find it im- possible, except by sheer force, to prevent German, Austrian and Turkish aggressions against Russia. The war for democracy and internationalism will not end, however, with the treaty of peace. The present war is but an incident, disastrous and ghastly, in a larger development, in a struggle be- tween two principles: the principle of autocracy, militarism and nationalistic imperialism, and the principle of democracy. The moment the war ends the struggle wall change its form, though not its character. There will be renewed the same conflict which we have witnessed for several generations, the same steady upward push of the masses of all 14 POSTSCRIPT nations. A victory for Germany would immensely hamper this movement and delay an eventual victory of the democratic principle. It would re-establish the prestige of autocracy. Not even such a catas- trophe, however, would end the struggle between democracy and the autocratic principle, though the centre of conflict might shift from Manchester, Roubais and Pittsburg to Essen and Leipzig. To a great extent, moreover, the war, even if its outcome be calamitous, mil have contributed to the victory of the democratic principle. The war has meant nothing if it has not meant enlightenment. To the peoples of all countries it has shown the lack of prevision and of moral quality of the governments which they have so long obeyed. Not only the autocracy of Germany, but the English, French and Italian rulers as well, have revealed crassly egoistic class motives concealed under pious phrases. The wage-earners of the world and the hundreds of mil- lions who make up the poor and disinherited will have long years in which to reflect upon the lessons of this conflict. They will come to see that back of the struggle between nations lay a more permanent conflict between ideas. They will see the war be- neath the war, and will realize that whatever the immediate issue, the victory is to the group in tlie community that is most conscious of its interests and most insistent upon its riglits. It is this self-revelation of our modern ultra-na- POSTSCRIPT 15 tionalism and this baring of the nakedness of class pretensions that will constitute in the end one of the great permanent victories of the war. Whatever the outcome, there will remain after the w^ar the same clash within the nations as before. A present victory for internationalism and democracy, how- ever, a present destruction of German militarism, and with it of all other militarisms, is the goal to be achieved in the present war and a step in the direc- tion of an ultimate victory in the years to come. THE END OF THE WAR CHAPTER I THE ELUSIVE VICTORY In this fourth year of the war all the world longs for peace. The fever has almost run its course. Much hatred remains, much greed for territory and wealth, much reliance on the strength of armies and navies. Yet the world over men are sickened by the eternal bloodshed. The early optimistic enthusiasm has vanished, and there opens up the vista of an end- less prolongation of a senseless slaughter. No longer is there hope of an easy victory over dispirited foes. Instead earnest peace-loving men are asking themselves whether this conflict, like the Thirty Years' War, will not long endure and end only in the utter decivilization of Europe and of the world. Precisely such a situation as we are now facing was presaged in a remarkable anticipation by an English philosopher in the spring of 1914. ''Let a European war break out," wrote Mr. Graham Wal- las, "perhaps between the Triple Alliance and the Triple Entente, which so many journalists and poli- 17 18 THE END OF THE WAR ticians in England and Germany contemplate with criminal levity. If the combatants prove to be equally balanced, it may, after the first battles, smoulder on for thirty years. What will be the population of London, or Manchester, or Chemnitz, or Bremen, or Milan, at the end of it ? " ^ A thirty years' war, lasting until 1944, still seems to us impossible. Flesh and blood could not stand the intolerable strain ; the war must come to its end earlier. Yet we are as far from a decision as at the beginning. On land the Central Powers are victorious ; at sea the Allies ; and both are strain- ing their resources and wasting their energies at a speed inconceivable four years ago. The war's con- tagion has spread, and nations, uninterested in Ser- bia's fate and other controversies which gave rise to the contest, now marshal their forces, sacrifice their young men and put their whole future to the test. The chances of victory for the one side or the other alter continually, and statesmen and publicists, once possessed of calm judgment, are elated or panic- stricken by the news of successive days. Through- out the nations the gambling spirit is rife, and the fate of the world is the stakes. From the gigantic battling of more than three years there emerges a sense of the elusiveness of the victory sought. In the beginning, when Ger- man armies were rapidly invading France, the 1 "The Great Society" by Graham Wallas, New York, 1914, p. 12. THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 19 Fatherland believed that the present struggle, like those of '66 and 70, was to be "a fresh and merry war," and just before the Marne, and afterwards, France was dismembered in numberless Kneipes throughout the German Empire. Similarly in the optimistic spring of 1915, English and French, rely- ing upon the coming Big Push and the Slavic steam- roller, amused themselves by dividing up enemy ter- ritories in anticipation of an early decisive victory. Since then, however, much water has flowed \inder the bridge. Millions of careless boasting boys have been buried deep and other millions are hobbling about on crutches, or, blinded or diseased, are seek- ing to live out mangled lives until Death comes to this generation and the curtain goes dowTi upon the grotesque tragedy. During all this time amid alarms of defeat there have been exultant shrieks for the victory about to be grasped. The victory has never been grasped. It has always been three months ahead, always needed just one more million deaths, a few billion dollars more. And so, on both sides of that grim fighting line, which has suddenly replaced old political boundaries, men stumble for- ward, their eyes blinded by the flowing blood, their hearts inspired by an inner ideal, by a primitive, in- vincible pride and by the persistent hope of a vic- tory that is always to be and never is. Yet however patriotic, men remain men, and all the obsession of the present cannot deaden the mem- 20 THE END OF THE WAE ory of happier days. Even the Junker, steeled in a philosophy of war, has his moments of regret for the time before sons and brothers died daily in un- romantic ways on distant battle-fields, when men might meet present enemies on terms of friendship, and the world was not divided against itself by bul- warks of bayonets, ships and lies. To the common run of unmartial people who form a majority of all nations, the war has become odious. The illusion is gone. It is no ** merry war" but a desperate, un- honourable conflict, a war of money, deceit, bribery, murder and ruthlessness both against neutrals and enemies. To what does it lead? What will be the gain in the long years of post-bellum reckoning? Sober people begin to see beyond the conflict to the grey years to come. They still hope for victory, but it is a lesser victory than that once envisaged, a vic- tory in which the victors themselves will be over- burdened with debt and the care of the victims who achieved the victory. The hope of adequate in- demnities has vanished ; the war as a gigantic whole is unprofitable. It does not pay. From a material point of view even a victory will not pay. Will it pay morally? Will the losses in blood and treasure be made good by permanent gains in ideals ? Here lies the real issue, and it is the afifirmative answer to this question which prolongs the war. So universal is the abhorrence of the ceaseless carnage that nothing but the deepest ideals could reconcile THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 21 men to the struggle. Millions of us believe, how- ever, that to give over the battle without attaining the war's supreme goal would be to suffer disaster. The war is as odious as ever, cruel, barbaric, vile; and yet there seems no alternative than a submis- sion to enduring evil. Victory will consist in bring- ing about a new state of the world in which men will be unharassed and free, and in which great nations and small will live together in peace. Today there has arisen a new attitude toward peace and a larger hope for peace, because of the very conditions which make the present war differ- ent from any other in history. In the past wars were limited by the narrow bounds given to political integration, narrow bounds within which all inter- course between the nations took place. And peace was limited by the same conditions. A world peace was impossible in a world divided up into thousands of separate communities unconnected by industrial, social and intellectual bonds. Today the increas- ingly close integration of the world, which makes wars utterly destructive, makes a world peace con- ceivable. For the first time there is possibility of a close co-operation among nations, a sense of like- ness in aim and destiny. There is a dream of mu- tual understanding and common concert. There is a propagation of an international faith and of an international allegiance. This conception, at best merely struggling for ex- 22 THE END OF THE WAR pression, distorted and disfigured in the throes of its birth, this faith in a new world society, in a new unity and a new concert, is the one fact which gives this world conflict a rational and moral base. De- stroy that base and nothing remains but the maniac clashing of rival peoples, a war which leads to a senseless peace, which again leads to war. Destroy this faith, and the war is but one of an endless chain of wars. In some manner and to some extent all the warring nations, including even those opposed to us, accept this faith. They cling to it despite many facts which should tend to make them sceptical. It is the vindication of this faith which alone makes the war anything more than a mere grotesque trag- edy. It is by this vindication alone that a victory can be won. But is not this real moral victory itself elusive, and do we not clutch at it ignorantly, and with clumsy hands'? It is significant that our enemies, against whom we are fighting for tlie security of this better world, are themselves fighting for secu- rity, so that echoes of our ambitions come to us from across enemy frontiers. Can we attain inter- nationalism, democracy and permanent peace by the mere expedient of fighting? In the beginning, it must be admitted, we envisaged the whole problem too simply. Wrapped up in a sense of the perfect justice of our cause, we believed that our enemy must soon discern and acknowledge that he was fighting THE ELUSIVE \aCTORY 23 against the light. Many idealists among the Allies expected that in a few months — in a year at most — they would overturn the Imperial German Govern- ment and confer upon the un-hated German people the blessings which they themselves enjoyed. Bet- ter still, the Germans, perceiving the abyss towards which their dynasts were leading them, would them- selves revolt, and stretch out their hands in friend- ship to their rescuing enemy. None of all this has happened; on the contrary the Germans have made common cause with their rulers, and believe, quite sincerely, that they, and they alone, are fighting for the right, fighting that we and our Allies may not crush, dismember and humiliate the Fatherland. From the beginning they have opposed to us ideals as firmly held as those that we hold. All our millions of soldiers, our hundreds of w^ar- ships, our mountains of explosives, have failed to persuade them that we are fighting their cause. We are unable to convince them and to their surprise they are unable to convince us. The difficulty seems to be that we and our Allies are bringing to this problem a blunt war mind and are seeking a somewhat impalpable solution by ex- cessively palpable instruments. We have tried to hammer the enemy into a confession of sin and into a state of grace, not realizing that for this purpose machine guns and asphyxiating gas are no adequate instruments. Though we cannot win this war with- 24 THE END OF THE WAR out arms, we cannot win it by arms alone. The con- sequence of our exclusive preoccupation with the war tends to obscure the very purposes for which it is fought, with the result that the ideal victory, which we seek, eludes us. This is true of our enemies and our allies as of our- selves. The simple faith of 1914 is gone. In Ger- many millions now perceive that they were enrolled in this conflict by a conscription of lies and that the real objects of their exalted rulers were different from those avowed. They begin to doubt the wis- dom and justice of invading Belgium, of submarine warfare and the bombarding of peaceful cities ; and a few are wondering whether a German victory might not be a victory over Germany. The chains fastened upon Belgium would clank upon German ankles, for foreign aggression means unfreedom at home. Similarly, though in a lesser degree, the Allied peoples are beginning to dread too complete a victory. What advantage will there be in a mere overpowering of Germany? The German menace will be gone, but new menaces will have been created. Crush Germany to place Italy on the East Adriatic and the seeds are sown for a fresh war between Italy and Serbia and their respective allies, a war potentially as destructive as that under which we now live. Dismember Austria, split up that loose aggregation into a larger Balkans, and what is the permanent gain to England or France ? Again, what THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 25 new wars are to be staged by the Peace Conference in Asia Minor? Everywhere dangers spring up like armed men from the ground. Every\vhere victory promises to create new warring nations, young, un- wise, over-confident, over-ambitious, ruthless. Such a victory is no victory. Divide all conquered terri- tories according to the clashing desires of the flushed Allies and you have a state of Europe and of the world, no better than that from which men sought to escape in the insane venture of 1914. Humankind is proverbially disregardful of dis- tant dangers and Europe might be willing to pur- chase immunity from immediate aggression at the risk of a greater peril fifty years hence. But the menace is far more proximate. In 1912 the Balkan States declared w'ar against Turkey upon the basis of a division of conquered territories more carefully considered than that which today binds the Allies; within a year they were at war among themselves. Can the Allies, in the event of their success, surely hold together in the precarious days of victory, while distributing territories newly acquired? Let Ger- many lay down her arms — is peace then assured? In a division of spoils there is no true harmony. What Italy wants Serbia wants. We can imagine the ironic laughter of the defeated Central Powers if at the final grand inquest the victorious Allies split upon the rock of clashing expansions, and each courted the aid of the German victim. For unless 26 THE END OF THE WAR some new principle is evoked, other than that of giv- ing to each what has been promised to each, the di- vision will be made according to the strength of the respective victorious nations, according to the Bal- ance of Power within the Alliance, and in case of conflict the unsuccessful group may appeal to the victim to redress the balance. It is a discouraging outlook, a vista of ever new dangers, a dread that the world will escape from the consuming fire of this war only to fall into hotter conflagrations. A real victory, a victory of peace, eludes us. And when we inquire why it eludes us we see that we, the Allied nations, carry into the conflict something of that evil principle against which we fight. The war is against German militarism, ag- gression and imperialism, but the Allied nations are also militaristic, aggressive and imperialistic. ' Be- tween Germany and Japan there is little to choose in the matter of imperialistic ambition; between the autocratic Russia that was and the Germany that is there is nothing to choose. The war in its origin was an alignment of aggressive nations against aggres- sive nations. Moreover, in carrying on the war each combatant group has gained the adhesion of former neutrals by appealing to greed and ambition. The Allies made promises to Italy, Roumania and Greece, as Germany made promises to Bulgaria. The ce- ment of both alliances has been the very thing which caused the war. The Allies, fighting fire with fire. THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 27 cannot be depended upon to control their own fire. A war for internationalism has been conducted by expedients opposed to the principle of interna- tionalism. Small wonder then that the world is disillusioned and war-weary, that the peoples ask themselves if wisdom and justice, moderation and tolerance are not more likely to solve problems than is the clash of brutal armies, let loose by stupid, if astute, diplo- mats. No wonder that tens of millions are seeking a way out of the banal slaughter to a victory that will not be empty and to a peace that will not be transient. In this search they are everywhere impeded. They cry "peace, peace," meaning thereby a settle- ment that is lasting and just, but the echo answers "there is no peace." Those who desire terms which will make for progress and civilization find their efforts frustrated by two groups, by sincere, dog- matic pacifists, who desire immediate peace on any terms, and by equally sincere bitter-enders, jusqu'd houtistes, who are either imperialists, conscious or unconscious, or mere instinctive haters, loving the war more than the peace that is to be gained. The first group, if successful, would pluck the fruit be- fore it was ripe ; the second would fight on until the fruit was rotten. To tlie irreconcilable pacifist the war has brought an endless series of disillusionments. He has an in- 28 THE END OF THE WAR vincible repugnance to warfare, not because he is a coward (on the contrary he is often fanatically brave) but because in him the tribal instinct is weak. He tends to believe in the inherent goodness and reasonableness of men. Often he is a pacifist and a non-resister because he is a Christian; more often he is a rationalist holding fast to reason and dis- trusting instinct. He is not objective; few extrem- ists are. He is not bound by conclusions drawn from history, for he looks to the future and believes implicitly in the revolutionary conversion of whole peoples. He holds to his dogma that nothing can be gained by war. The nearer the war the less par- donable. The dogmatic pacifist has seen the ground drift from beneath his feet. In the beginning he hoped that all nations would be reasonable ; they were not. He hoped that non-resistance would evoke non- aggression; it did not. He believed that the sober reason as well as the economic and cultural inter- ests of the world would prevent nations from going to war ; they did not. Even in the midst of the gen- eral conflagration he believed that a semi-isolated nation, like the United States, could remain out of the war, could maintain a solitaire peace; he has discovered that it could not. He has seen great peo- ples, ardently desiring peace, continue to fight as though driven by an invisible maleficent god. These disillusionments have confused the judg- THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 29 ment, if they have not altered the convictions of the pacifist. Though he at first held that we in America should preserve an oasis of peace, and not add to the universal frenzy, he now discovers, when it comes to a question of ending the war, that peace is more than a mere cessation of fighting. It is a thing of diflBcult terms and conditions; a thing easier broken than made. To the militarist also the war has been disillusion- izing. In the beginning he thought of it as a mere conflict of arms and as a chance for valour and dis- tinction in the ''imminent deadly breach." There was something mystical, romantic and sentimental in his concepton. War was utterly different from the dead monotony of industrial life, with its glut- tonous production of standardized goods, its hum- drum collocation of grimy men in grimy factories, its plethoric endless heaping up of commodities. With the outbreak of hostilities all that would be over. To his confusion the war turns out to be nothing but the same industrial process in a differ- ent form. He discovers that not armies but fac- tories give the decision. Back of the soldiers stand the same grimy workers. The Brigadier-Generals in their resplendent uniforms are supplanted by manufacturers, merchants, bankers and advertising men, for the war has proved that war is business, and that military eflBcicncy is useless without eco- nomic efficiency. Success in war depends upon the 30 THE END OF THE WAR identical men and processes as does success in peace. As a consequence the military man of the old type is disappointed. Yet though pacifists and warriors are alike dis- illusioned, the war drags on. Men die on the battle- field and women and children and old people die at home. Food becomes scarce, fuel scarcer and the whole industrial machine creaks. The birth-rate falls; the death rate rises. Tuberculosis spreads through vast sections of the populations and vene- real diseases make fearful ravages. Everjnvhere are sick who cannot be tended, and weak who die un- necessarily. The nations, not comprehending each other, vainly strive for a mutual understanding that will relieve them from this excruciating agony. Then failing to reach any end or attain any concord they listen to the counsel of despair, "Fight on, you peoples; cut your throats, lose your lives and with them your doubts and qualms and hesitations. There is peace in death on the battlefield; there is peace in the insensate struggle itself, in which men cease to think, and mechanically shoot at an unseen enemy; as much automata as are the machine guns under their hands." It is as though we were driven by an inner impulse to mass suicide. Whoever seeks a rational escape from the slaughter is exposed to a merciless fire from the rear, to appeals to hatred, revenge, nation- alistic gain. Constantly we are told not to look THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 31 within but outward to the enemy. All the suffering is attributed to the foe and not to the struggle itself. If the loved ones at home starve, the enemy is at fault, not the war. If fathers, husbands, sons die on distant fields, it is the enemy who has killed them, not the war. In each country we forget that war is the opponent and remember only a grinning, con- temptuous foe. Those who have something to gain or nothing to lose from the conflict insist on a mere fighting. So also do those who have forsworn thought *'for the duration of the war." They urge the nation to grasp that ever-elusive victory, to gain by just a little more effort the balm that is to salve all wounds, to save itself from the last unutterable calamity of destruction. They demand that the nation fight that 'Hhese honoured dead shall not have died in vain." Foolish, vainglorious hope. More millions may die and more and more millions, and yet die in vain. For unless the war is rational- ized, spiritualized, saved from gross corrupting ele- ments, unless it is fully harmonized with the new spirit struggling to be born, all who die, die in vain. Until then, those who cry for "peace, peace," even though the military victory be won, must be answered "there is no peace." Could there be a more striking illustration of our tragic incapacity to rise above a fighting clan spirit to a view of humanity in its world relations? The war lasts because we, like our foes, cannot put our- 32 THE END OF THE WAR selves in the enemy's place, cannot view the world from his standpoint, or test our ideals by his needs. We do not concede to him a common humanity or a common rationality, but see in him only the brute and moral idiot. We close our ears to what he has to say, as he closes his ears, and both sides hurl threats across the national boundaries. The loose curses of some unrepresentative Englishman or Frenchman, printed in large type in German papers, shut the mouths and consciences of patriotic Ger- mans, clamouring for a democratic peace. People in Britain or America, who stretch out their hands in the dark to feel the friendly touch of peace-lovers in enemy lands, are struck by a Reventlow or von Tir- pitz, and are silenced. In these circumstances there is no peace. For the peace that is desired, the only peace worthy of the name or worth fighting for, is more than a pact between diplomats coming to the rescue of tired warriors. What is needed is a constructive peace, that will mean the progress of humanity, not a peace of subjugation nor a peace precedent to a new war. To such a true peace all the war irreconcilables of all countries are unitedly opposed. For these Maxses and Barres and Reventlows, though revil- ing each other, are true allies. Theirs is a curious unconscious internationalism. Leagued tog;ether for war, imperialism and subjection, they are the real censors both of democratic speech and thought. THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 33 They keep the flame alive, arousing for ever the war spirit at home and abroad. Against these strutting little men, with their vicarious heroism and their prestige manufactured in enemy lands, the advocates of an honourable peace struggle ineffectually. For these little war-makers, though not intrinsically pow- erful, represent the vast unreason of the world. Thus the nations long for a true peace and fight on. Great is the contagion of war, and so near lies the fighting spirit to our primitive instincts, and so easy is the refuge from the task of solving prob- lems to the thoughtless routine of battle, that one nation after another is dragged into the contest. Finally the United States, the last great neutral, was forced into the war. There was no way out. The struggle was on whether we were in or not, and our participation seemed to promise the end. It was for us, we be- lieved, to resolve the problem, to untie the knot that had resisted Europe's efforts. To this task we brought men, munitions and money, and also a new spirit. We wanted no conquests or indemnities, nothing but an honourable permanent peace. War- weary even before we entered the war, we strove to be disinterested, to fight without hatred and with- out ambition. We were literally fighting for peace. Thus America became the chief hope of the world's peace. We were cast for this role not be- cause we were better people than Europeans — we 34 THE END OF THE WAR were neither better nor worse — ^but simply because our safe geographical and economic position not only permitted us to develop ideals of internationalism but also took from us any powerful selfish interest in the conflict. As peace-makers we had an advantage over other great Powers. We had a corresponding disadvantage. As a nation we were ignorant of those complex historical and political problems of Europe, those intimate repulsions and inherited prejudices out of which wars arise. We knew little about Russia, less about Austria-Hungary, still less about the Balkan situa- tion, and our ignorance concerning the intricate prob- lems of Asia Minor was almost complete. Before the war few Americans had even heard of the Bag- dad Railway. Disregarding these problems we be- lieved that peace could be maintained by keeping things as they were and we never asked ourselves whether things could be kept as they were. Ignoring their difficulties and their temptations we felt a con- tempt for nations which sought to fight out problems, not realizing that in like circumstances we too should have fought. We thought of peace as a self -regulat- ing device, as a thing natural and good and easy, and of any people that broke the peace as a self-confessed malefactor. Since then we have learned much. We have in- vestigated the rotting foundations upon which peace in the past has been built and we have come to rec- THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 35 ognize that in some cases the peace-breaker is blessed. We have learned that not every peace will do ; that peace is a highly perishable integument, to be adjusted or fitted, so to speak, to the needs of peoples, to the spread of ideas, ideals, interests, an- tagonisms ; that it must grow with the growth of the nations it holds together. It is not a glass case, rigid and fragile, but a living container, a web, of the nature of the things it holds, growing, chang- ing, alive — and mortal. It is a condition, good, bad, improving, degenerating. It is a part of the enveloping atmosphere of the nations, and the na- tions may grow up healthy in its atmosphere or they may stifle and die. We have also learned that no nation, nor all nations together, can proclaim '^Let there be Peace" and there will be peace. For that peace which the world desires is an organic and vulnerable thing, which must grow out of the ideals and passions of men, which must be better or worse, which must die day by day and be renewed day by day, as our skin dies and is renewed. We have only begun to learn the vast toxicolog}^ of peace; the virulent, recondite poisons that destroy it, poisons not placed there by wicked men but, like fatigue germs, generated by the international body itself. We find the enemy of peace to be not Germany alone but also those dis- tract iugly difficult questions, which Peace must con- front and answer or be herself destroyed. Our own 36 THE END OF THE WAR pat replies of three years ago, as we now realize, were no answers, but mere evasions. We have studied and learned though we are still ignorant. So is the rest of the world. The blind lead the blind ; the ignorant teach the ignorant; the passionate preach to the passionate the virtues of peace. Disheartening? Surely. Yet so the world has always been governed and the race survived. To- day if our difficulties are intricate we have at least a broader basis, in a new world created under our feet, upon which to build for the future. More men and more women than ever before are striving not for any peace but for one that is true and perma- nent and just. The task of attaining such a peace is paralyzingly difficult, but we hope and believe that it is not impossible. But to attain it requires a larger spirit than to fight a war. It requires broader sympathies, a clearer vision, a greater faith and a nobler charity. The problem is no less than the planning of the world, the provision of a place in the sun for all the nations (including our enemies), the evening of the path over which all peoples in their daily arduous lives must pass. The peace to be attained must be a peace that lays the foundations upon which a world society may be built. Such a peace does not come automatically, nor is it attained by fighting, which can achieve only the removal of some of the ob- stacles. The end of the war does not of itself THE ELUSIVE VICTORY 37 bring peace, just as the battle won does not bring the victory; all that war assures us is a partial cleaning of the slate upon which a new message may be writ- ten. What that message will be depends upon what spirit animates the peoples who are to do the writing. It is in something of this mood and with the sense that she is a nation chosen by circumstances to lead, that America must approach the problem of world peace. The task comes to us more immediately than ever before. Plunged into the World War to sink or rise with the other nations, we may either fight on to the elusive victory that is defeat, or may strive by in- telligence and a true spirit to attain to that moral victory without which this war is an unmeaning curse. CHAPTER II PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS Superficially there could have been no more star- tling volte face than that of America in April, 1917. We had just re-elected Mr. Wilson, who had "kept us out of war ' ' ; immediately afterwards, and under his leadership, we entered the war. Since then we have quickly learned to despise our former attitude, and men who have recently boasted of their staunch pacifism now hold that point of view to be obnoxious and contemptible. Yet to those who look beneath the surface the basic impulse which caused us to fight was the same that had long kept us from fighting. It was in the main idealism which thrust us in as it had once held us aloof. Beneath our sudden change in policy lay a perfect continuity in sentiment and conviction. To understand our present attitude and to for- mulate an American policy, we must understand and emotionally experience that strong sentiment out of which our actions flowed. For we are today and will be tomorrow essentially what we were a year ago. A traditional popular impulse manifests it- self differently under varying conditions, but itself does not quickly change. Consequently we approach 38 PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 39 the end of the war with much the same instinctive reactions, with much the same tenacious but undi- rected idealism as in the days in which we held our- selves aloof from the conflict. It was not to be anticipated that our present Al- lies ^ should regard our past abstention as heroic or indeed as anything but materialistic and selfish. Themselves bearing the brunt of a desperate strug- gle, they naturally believed that all neutrals were careless of great moral issues and shortsighted in their national egoism. America especially was de- nounced, since of all neutrals she was the strongest and most prosperous. It was inevitable that all the ancient accusations against Yankee callousness should be raised against us. These accusations fitted in with the traditional dispraise of America. We were held to be the most unidealistic of nations — in our land birds had no 'Song, flowers no scent, and men no souls. To myriads of Europeans our life seemed cold, clear, hard, without shade or colour or atmosphere, un- romantic, unmysterious. They found in us a narrow and ill-informed rationalism, a grotesque emphasis upon the practical, a materialistic self-seeking. Our cis-Atlantic civilization was styled gaunt, ugly, monotonous, clamourous. Americans were the 1 Technically America is not an ally of Great Britain. France and Italy, but merely an associate or co-belligerent. For the sake of convenience, however, it is often better to use the word "ally" since it corresponds with general usage. 40 THE END OF THE WAR slaves of a tyrannical money instinct. We had no soul roots in a distant past, no long national conti- nuity. How could one expect idealism from a mere accidental assemblage of transplanted humans ? Doubtless, as our critics allege, we have missed some of the virtues and much of the charm inhering in the more ripely developed nations whose history runs back to an ancient folk childhood. Our people, coming from many sources, have had their dim lights extinguished in the glare of American life. We speak of the American crucible, but, in a true sense, nations are not chemically fused but grow as do the plants, slowly and obscurely. All this makes us different. Yet it is only the less sympathetic European observer who misses the deep note of idealism in American character. The popular misconception arises because in America so much of our spiritual life seems flat and arid, because we have not been chastened by suffering, but have always been chil- dren of plenty and of a strenuous uncomfortable comfort. Our idealism itself bears the traces of its derivation in being cheerful, self-conscious and somewhat pragmatic, worshipping the thing that is to be and ignoring what was. It is, like ourselves, mechanical and rationalistic, holding fast to steam, electricity, power and bigness. It is the idealism of a wealthy society of jostling, unsqueamish men, above all, an idealism of success. It is a vent for all PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 41 those impulses which are not used up in our struggle for wealth, and it adopts unconsciously the methods and spirit of that struggle. In this check-book ideal- ism, the widow's mite is less regarded than the mil- lionaire's donation, and the one sheep less than the ninety and nine. It is the idealism of a people sat- isfied, perhaps over-satisfied with itself, giving of its plenty and determined to raise the world to what it considers its own level. There is in it little humility but much good will, good sense and practical wis- dom. Moreover, it is an idealism with its feet on the ground, an idealism which works, which enters into the core of our day-by-day life and powerfully influ- ences our actions and decisions. It was this unromantic and perhaps unlovely ideal- ism which was enlisted a year ago in the effort to keep America out of the war. It was a powerful ideal motive drawn from the brief traditions of American history, and buttressed by economic, polit- ical and geographical considerations. It was a mo- tive that was rooted in a belief that men are inher- ently good, that the free man is the good man and the good citizen. It believed theoretically in an equality, liberty and fraternity, transcending na- tional boundaries. Intensely democratic, it de- manded the equalization of opportunities, though it narrowly conceived of equality as an equal chance to compete under unequal conditions. Its faith was strong in the right of a nation or a people to self- 42 THE END OF THE WAR government. It disbelieved in repression, regimen- tation, rigid discipline, abject respect for the pub- lished law. ''Do not obey the law too much," ad- vised the great American prophet, Walt Whitman. This attitude led, and still leads, to opposition to war. The liberal does not believe in propaganda by force. He distrusts the arbitrament of battle much as he distrusts duelling. To the American, more- over, a belief in the efficacy of peace has been all the more natural since his nation was never called upon to fight a serious foreign war. In a fluid society in which there was elbow-room and the right to use one's elbows, in which a man might easily change his home, city, trade, or wife, it was easier to move than fight. We had no fighting traditions and no specialized fighting class, no samurai and no Junkers. Consequently, our patriotism was strongly pacific. This American pacifism was on the whole conde- scendingly benevolent. Believing piously in our own wisdom and good fortune, we experienced a mis- sionary desire to spread our virtue to foreign coun- tries. We believed that we were, or were to become, the most inspiring nation in the world, and that we gratefully owed it to Divine Providence to bring to other nations the blessings that were ours. We must spread our civilization by example and free gift. But if there was a touch of Pharisaism in our atti- tude, there was also a deeply sincere and generous PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 43 emotion. We wished unselfishly to create peace for the entire world. It is easy to ridicule this attitude, to see in it an intellectual unripeness and a blindness to complex facts. We lacked detailed knowledge; we were far too simple in our hypotheses and far too summary in our judgments. We conceived of Europe as merely a more densely populated America, and we failed to grasp the infinitely involved problems of nations living throughout their long history in hos- tile juxtaposition, with their martial instincts forti- fied by the constant need of self-defence. We were inclined to pass a hasty equal judgment upon all combatants, as does the lazy police magistrate who is too busy to investigate a petty wrangle. But all this intellectual immaturity was natural. If our people as a whole failed to bring to this problem a full and dispassionate mind, other neutrals and com- batants equally failed. As one looks deeper and en- gages the situation from a moral rather than an in- tellectual point of view, our attitude, fairly radiat- ing good-will, was far from ridiculous. It was an effort to apply to the relations between nations cer- tain obvious moral formulae. If the formula were too simple, the effort none the less lay in the line of future progress.^ 1 The state of mind above described was far from being universal. Not a few Americans envisaged the European War from a purely personal, financial point of view and millions of others were indif- ferent. 44 THE END OF THE WAR Obviously this idealism in the first instance held the United States to non-intervention. Nations and men tend to discover a deep moral justification for whatever lies in their interest, but apart from the obvious benefit to us of non-interference, there was reason to believe that such a do-nothing policy would also inure to the ultimate advantage of Europe. Our underlying thought was that, as a combatant, we should lose not only moral prestige, but also a disinterestedness without which we could never become impartial mediators. The ambition to settle the war obsessed the nation. It was in this hope that President Wilson adjured us to remain neutral even in thought, and in this spirit he made his famous declaration that a nation may be too proud to fight. We did not seem to recognize that in our efforts to preserve a rigidly neutral atti- tude we were sacrificing our right even to pass a moral judgment. Thus the President refused to state his opinion concerning the morality of the Bel- gian invasion and made no protest against German atrocities in Belgium or Russian atrocities in Gali- cia. In this abstention, moreover, he was supported by the general sentiment. ''Why protest," asked Americans, *' since we do not intend to back up our protests by force? A protest will do no good and will destroy our chance to become the peacemaker." Naturally our internal racial divisions emphasized the necessity of neutrality and peaceful abstention PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 45 from European quarrels. We were no longer re- quired to be neutral because of weakness and we had long ceased to believe that the democratic institutions of the United States needed protection from the *' despotic European system." Neutrality had be- come a policy of convenience; a confirmation of an economic process by which American interests were centered in the home territory. But our attitude towards our immigrants confirmed our unwilling- ness to interfere as a belligerent in European wars. We were the refuge of the world, the one country in which war-weary citizens of all the nations could drown their ancient embittered animosities in the new and unifying aspirations of American life. To these immigrants from war-threatened nations, moreover, we felt ourselves bound to offer surcease of warfare that they might forget the unhappy days in their native land. Thus and thus only could we create a United States of Europe on American soil. If we waged war against one or another of the Euro- pean peoples we should only rekindle old hatreds. The bitter feelings aroused in America during the first two years of the European War, the only half- suppressed warfare of invective between American partisans of the Allied and of the German cause, seemed to us a forecast of the much deadlier conflict that was to be feared in the event of any actual par- ticipation by the United States. To attack Cicr- many, we believed, would be to de-Americanize the 46 THE END OF THE WAR Germans in our midst. If we adopted a policy ad- verse to Italy, Austria-Hungary, Sweden or Great Britain, we should stir up new racial antipathies within our borders. Our internal peace, our integ- rity as a composite nation, depended upon our neu- trality. The better part of wisdom was to remain, we thought, a friend to all nations and an ally of none. It soon became obvious, however, that our policy of non-intervention led to difficulties. The role of receptive peacemaker was hardly dignified and we were the alternate victim of all combatants. Our failure to repel the aggression of one group led to attacks by the other, and as the months passed our neutrality evaporated. We were hated, distrusted and coldly despised by both sides. Germany claimed that we were aiding the Allies ; British and French publicists intimated that we were subtly pro-Ger- man. To what lengths this suspicion of America went is revealed by the attitude of one of the more violent of British imperialists, Mr. L. J. Maxse. In an arti- cle appearing in the National Revieiv of February, 1917, entitled, '* 'Ware Washington," Mr. Maxse claimed that the United States was Germany's secret ally, that a war between those two countries was practically impossible, but that a war with England would be immensely attractive to Americans. *'It is common ground," he said, ''that had the Pan- PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 47 German program materialized and the Mailed Fist been triumphantly installed from Petrograd to Calais the United States would have preserved a scrupulous neutrality based on excess profits. But from the moment failure overtook Germany at Ver- dun and on the Somme, American action became in- evitable, because German failure meant British suc- cess, and their ingrained jealousy of this country would preclude *our American kinsmen' remaining quiet while we * came into our own. ' " " The fall of France," he asserted, "the fall of Russia, the fall of Italy would have found American altruists look- ing the other way, as did the fate of Belgium, Serbia, Montenegro, Roumania, and Poland. Any catas- trophe to the British Empire would have aroused unconcealable glee from the Atlantic to the Pa- cific. " * In the same manner and to an even greater extent our quasi-neutrality exposed us to the gibes and the violent abuse of German critics. It must be conceded that our policy of theoretical neutrality completely failed, and that in our efforts to apply a few moral formulae to the complex and embittered European situation we barely escaped appearing irresolute and even ridiculous. We fol- lowed no one lead and carried out no one consistent policy. Had we really wished to defend the prin- ciple of neutrality we should have formed a League of Neutrals, and organized the combined neutral 1 T/ie National Revieic, Vol. 68, p. 810. 48 THE END OF THE WAE strength to enforce our decisions. Had we desired to exercise a moral influence we should have boldly passed judgment upon such open violations of inter- national law as the invasion of Belgium, and pre- pared ourselves for an eventual vindication of such judgments. Nor did we, during the first two and a half years, take really effective steps towards bring- ing about peace upon the basis of a firm internation- alism. If after mobilizing our economic and mili- tary forces we had put pressure upon both groups of belligerents to force them to state terms, we should perhaps have aided in the clarification of the issues and in progress towards a mutual understanding. Actually our laissez-faire attitude towards the war, our policy of waiting to be called upon as peace- maker, led insensibly to a conservative, tepid and constantly shifting program, and in the end to a seeming pettiness in promoting small commercial interests while ignoring vaster moral interests. We kept silent about Belgium, but protested vehemently in behalf of American lard. The European infer- ence was obvious. "If the man who turnips cries Cry not when his father dies 'Tis a proof that he had rather Have a turnip than his father." But the inference was false. We did not care more for American lard than for human rights, al- PACIFISTS AND PATRIOTS 49 though as a matter of tradition we protested about the first, while we were inhibited by our fundamental policy towards the war from saying a word in behalf of the second. It was not cowardice on our part, nor timidity, nor callousness. Our policy of non-interference, though unintelligent and uninspired, was the result not only of an old tradition coming into conflict with a new state of the world, but of our strong idealistic belief that we could aid internationalism by doing nothing, and our hope that we could gain the friend- ship of both groups of belligerent nations, and thus gently bring them to a common peace, by studiously refraining from giving offence to either. If we stag- gered from one error to another and from one pro- gram to another, if in the end we entered the conflict abruptly under sudden provocation as though we had stumbled into the war, the cause of our vacilla- tion was in the main a not ungenerous aspiration. We longed for a universal peace, in which men would no longer kill, and though all other swords in the world dripped with blood, ours at least should be clean. Such was the pacifist patriot attitude of America in November, 1916. Yet in April, 1917, the United States '*to make the world safe for democracy" was engaged in a great war with Germany. CHAPTER III THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA The entrance of America into the war raised in many minds a seeming dilemma. Why did we take part in April, 1917, and not in August, 1914? If it was not a war for democracy, why were we in ; if it was, why had we not been in from the beginning? Though we are now at war, and war inhibits a true freedom of thought, yet as the foundations of our morality are concerned, we must face this problem honestly. What figure have we cut in this titanic shock in which we have allowed France to bleed and Serbia to be crushed, permitted Armenians to be slaughtered and suffered the democratic nations, in- cluding Australia and our neighbour Canada, to make supreme sacrifices, while we withheld even our approbation? Why did we not protest even after the fact against the invasion of Belgium? How can we today justify our minatory letters to England con- cerning our corn and beef and pig-iron? If this was a war for democracy, as the Allies claimed and as we today claim, were we not culpably blind or viciously neutral? — knowing and not caring, like "that caitiff choir who were not rebels, nor were faithful to God, but were for themselves." 50 THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 51 As we look this dilemma over, however, we shall find that there is a wide space between the horns. There were reasons for our participation in 1917 which were absent before. In the early stages of the war we believed that we had no responsibility for wars in Europe, and at all events did not con- sider this conflict as in any true sense a war for democracy. We were free therefore to go in or stay out. Within three years, however, we had lost this liberty of choice. We no longer could decide whether to take sides but only which of two sides to choose. Moreover, as the issue now presented itself, the problem was not whether the war was al- ready a war for democracy, which we did not be- lieve, but whether by our participation it could be converted into a war for democracy. If by adher- ing to the Allies we could persuade their govern- ments to recede from their extreme and unjustified demands (of which we knew much and surmised more), we should make success in war a real victory for a democratic internationalism. Our moral right to remain aloof seemed to us indisputable. All through our history we had sought to remain neutral, even where our sym- pathies were strongly engaged. We had not inter- fered in behalf of Greece struggling against Turkish oppression nor in behalf of Hungary fighting against Austrian domination. Our ofTlcial attitude towards Europe was not Quixotic nor even generous. Ours 52 THE END OF THE WAR was a conservative, non-propagandistic, non-inter- fering diplomacy. There were cogent reasons for this policy of non-interference. We were weak; we wished Europe not to interfere with us, and we believed, quite properly, that our slack democracy was no match for the subtle European diplomacy, habituated for generations to all the intricacies of the Balance of Power. True, we occasionally failed to observe this rule of non-abstention, as when we made representations to Russia and Roumania in behalf of their Jews. On the whole, however, we sought to adhere to a policy limiting our diplomatic activity to those parts of the world in which that activity could be decisive. We were willing to sym- pathize with alien causes but not to fight for them. Nor did this American policy of not taking up cudgels in defence of oppressed nationalities and of broken treaties really differ from that of other na- tions. Great Britain had been no more willing to fight for the maintenance of the Korean Treaty, which she had guaranteed than was the United States, and what actually forced her to intervene in Belgium was a controlling and decisive intej-est in that country's neutrality. No mere sentimental regard for Belgians drove England into the war, any more than a sentimental regard for Serbians and Austrians brought Russia and Germany into the conflict. Belgium was Britain's flying buttress, as Austria was the flying buttress of Germany. THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 53 That the war did not appeal to all Americans as a war for democracy was due to the duality of its issues. On the one hand was the assertion of a cer- tain internationalism against the exaggerated and febrile nationalism of Germany ; a ranging of politi- cal democracy, of respect for international law, and of a desire for international government against the enemy's disregard and distrust of these things. On the other hand there was a group of issues consist- ing of nationalistic demands, which violated the fun- damental principle of internationalism. The Allies, as accumulating evidence proved, were at war among themselves ; they fought against the things for which they fought. In each of the Allied nations high in- ternational ideals were in conflict with selfish nation- alistic plans. Which issue overweighed? The an- swer obviously was quantitative and difficult to make. To many Americans the preponderance seemed on the side of the nationalistic aims. We found both groups of nations selfish, were irritated at both. Undoubtedly the Junkertum was the stronghold of autocracy, and therefore the supreme enemy, but the spectacle of the Czar of Russia leading democracy to a victory over absolutism was ridiculous. We believed that Germany had precipitated the war, but in the long course of events leading up to the inevi- table declaration there had been so much aggression and duplicity on both sides that we were forced to reserve judgment. We trusted neither group. The 54 THE END OF THE WAR aggressions against the Transvaal, Korea, Morocco, Persia, Egypt, Tripoli were too recent to allow us to believe that the Allies in the present war were meek nations overrun by arrogant tyrants. In Morocco not all the good faith was on one side; in Persia neither England nor Russia was blameless. The very fact that the war broke out in Serbia clearly re- vealed that some of its origins lay in gross nation- alistic impulses and in a struggle for prestige and power. While, therefore, we recognized a fundamental democratic purpose in the war, we believed that in no real sense did this ideal unite the Allied nations. The chief cement of the Alliance seemed to lie in fear, greed and nationalistic ambition, not in any conception of a true harmony among the nations of Europe. To militaristic and autocratic Japan, for example, the ideals of democracy meant little. She played her own game, hoping not for a speedy Allied victory but for a protracted struggle. To the Rus- sian autocracy the war reduced itself to specific imperialistic aims. Italy stood on the brink, bar- gaining with both sides, willing to be neutral or partisan, according to the price. Roumania was in like position. Even in France and England senti- ment was divided. Weighing the preponderant ele- ments in the minds of the hundreds of millions opposed to Germany, balancing the democratic, inter- national ideals against the desire for concrete and THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 55 sometimes unjustifiable nationalistic gains, we were forced to conclude that the war was not wholly a war for democracy. Given this state of mind and this judgment of the causes and tendencies of the war, we not unnaturally preferred the maintenance of our technical neutral- ity. Several factors, however, made this impos- sible. Forces stronger than our will drove us into the conflict. Indeed we were in the war long before we made our formal declaration. That we were forced may not at first glance be obvious. We seemed to have had an opportunity to maintain neutrality. As late as April, 1917, we might conceivably have raised the cry ''Reparation after the war," pursuing a policy towards Germany like that towards England in the case of the Alabama claims. Actually, however, our only choice was either to defeat the Allies or attempt the defeat of Germany. The resulting declaration of war was merely the culmination in an unavowed participation which had been increasing for over two years. Powerful un- conscious forces had been driving us from neutrality to belligerency — a gradual process, divisible into three parts. First we were neutral, favouring the Allies in our hearts, but holding the balance of action even. The illuminating act of this period was the President's plea that we remain neutral in thought. The second stage was one of "benevolent neutral- 66 THE END OF THE WAR ity," of unconscious belligerency. During this pe- riod we sent money and munitions to the Allies, re- sisted the German blockade, but did not effectively oppose the British blockade. The illuminating act of this period was our permission to Allied merchant- men to carry guns. Last stage of all, the declaration of war. We ourselves did not fully understand this drift of our policy, and throughout this gradual transition we find a curious retardation in the intellectual prog- ress of the nation. Our thought moved slower than our action. While helping the Allies, partly from inclination and partly from necessity, we sincerely protested our neutrality. At one moment Mr. Lan- sing refused merchantmen permission to arm, al- though we were already committed to a policy of fighting the submarines. Our leaders vaguely saw the drift to war, but strove against it; Mr. Wilson's peace proposals in December were an attempt to pre- clude the necessity for a war message in April. We were willing to accept any semi-reasonable settle- ment in Europe rather than ourselves take part in the contest. And this not from timidity. What re- strained us was a deep conservative instinct; a jeal- ous desire to hold America apart from these strug- gles. We hesitated to commit our bark to untried waters. We wanted to live our old life, develop our democracy at home, protect with the aid of Latin America the isolation and immunity of the two THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 57 Americas. Not wishing to coerce other nations nor endure their coercion, preferring our independence narrow and free, to a wider, more exacting and more perilous interdependence, we were as regards Eu- rope separatist. Even as late as March, 1917, we sought to establish an armed neutrality instead of going to war. Anything but war. That our resistance was vain was through no fault of ours, nor in a larger sense through the specific inclination of any nation. It was the shrink- ing of the earth that flung us so violently against the European continent. We had little volition in the matter. What actually ended our neutrality long before we recognized that it had ended, was the supreme fact that the growth of industry, interlacing the nations of the world, had made a complete and real neutral- ity impossible. The traditional concept of neutral- ity had been based upon the idea of one independent and self-contained nation fighting another independ- ent and self-contained nation, while the neutrals held the ring, kept the scales even, and did ''nothing, neither way." But today there are no economically independent and self-contained nations. The change in the nature of war, with the ultimate dependence of each state upon its neighbours, completely alters the character of neutrality. A nation may be tech- nically neutral and yet trade ad libitum with either belligerent. It is, however, this peaceful trading 58 THE END OF THE WAR which today is of enormous and even decisive influ- ence. A war of attrition is in large part economic ; each belligerent seeks to secure goods from neutrals in order to save its own labour for war purposes while depriving antagonists of a like advantage. The war becomes a war for the trade, labour, sup- plies, capital and credit of neutrals. Here geographical position plays the controlling role. Denmark, Sweden, Holland and Switzerland may love Germany or hate her, but cannot in the cir- cumstances be anything but her partial economic al- lies, except by a policy which would make them ac- tual enemies. Sweden either sends Germany iron or does not ; if she does, she aids Germany ; if she does not, she injures her disastrously and invites repris- als. A belligerent today may be shattered by a neu- tral's economic action, which in peace time might be wholly unobjectionable. Of all neutrals America was incomparably the most important. Indeed, when the war had settled down to a test of endurance, American influence be- came decisive. The Allies, controlling the sea, could import munitions and food from America, and as a corollary borrow money. In other words, the United States automatically became the economic ally of the nations opposed to Germany. The German-Ameri- can farmer in Illinois freed a British agricultural labourer for the trenches; the Hungarian labourer at Wilkesbarre or Bridgeport unintentionally fought THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 69 against his native country. To Germany, on the other hand, no imports, and therefore no direct eco- nomic aid could come from America. Even had our antagonism to Germany been less strong, that coun- try would have borne the brunt of our economic alliance with her enemies. In this contingency Germany's policy seemed to her obvious. Either she must secure our goods or prevent the Allies from securing them. The former result she could accomplish only if we forced Great Britain to mitigate what we ourselves had declared to be an illegal blockade. She could accomplish the latter either by persuading us not to ship munitions or by means of submarine warfare. She must force us either to put pressure upon her enemies or else to permit her to put pressure upon them. In both efforts she failed. True, we protested against the British blockade, but as we did nothing but protest, and Great Britain was convinced that we would do nothing, the effect was almost nil. Nor did we stop our shipments of munitions, although a threat to do so might possibly have brought Great Britain to terms. On the other hand, not only did we protest against the submarine blockade, but we threatened war unless Germany desisted. Though technically, we were not really, neutral; ours was a ** benevolent neutrality," a limited and uncon- scious belligerency. We threw our economic weight against Germany because our economic interests lay 60 THE END OF THE WAR witli the Allies, and because, for other compelling reasons, we wished the Allies to win or at least not to lose. Why we wished thena to win reveals a force, at first weak but constantly growing, which in the end was to throw us into the battle line and alter our whole relation to the world. That force was a new extension, amplification and self-propagating ten- dency of American democracy. It was a repercus- sion of democracy. So long as we had to take sides, so long as economically we were forced to throw our weight on one scale or the other, we determined that America's influence should be in favour of what we considered democracy and against autocracy and militarism. Through all our decisions during the period of technical neutrality this principle may be observed to run. Ours, it is believed, was an excellent legal case. We could cite precedents for what we did and for what we did not do. To threaten Germany with war over the submarine issue was within our rights ; it was doing only that which she would have done to us in reversed circumstances. On the other hand, though we had the right to insist that England ad- here to the old rules of the blockade, we also had the right not to insist. Actually, what determined those of our actions which were truly decisive was not a desire to defend neutral rights, in which direction we made little progress, but a determination to prevent THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 61 our inevitable and rather unwelcome influence from being cast against the Allies. Who was justified in any particular controversy, Germany or the Allies, was not the momentous factor; in the aggregate of her policies and ideals we held Germany to be wrong, or at least opposed to us. This is the escape from the seeming dilemma con- fronting our entrance into the war. We had not in- tended to sacrifice ourselves in order to secure a de- cision in Europe which in any case we believed would be obscured by the nationalistic aims of the Entente Powers. Only when it became obvious that we were already in the war and that we were forced to choose sides did we issue our declaration. We could either aid the Allies to defeat Germany or, by ac- cepting Germany's ultimatum, withhold the assist- ance without which the Allies would have been de- feated. There were several reasons which made our choice obvious. In the first place, we had learned much during the past two and a half years, and our early impressions of German policy derived from Liege, Louvain and Rheims had been reinforced by the Lusitania and other incidents. We began to dread the power and ulterior ambitions of a greater Ger- many. More or less vaguely we realized that Eng- land stood as a bulwark between us and this great continental military power, as France and Belgium stood between her and England. Our commercial 62 THE END OF THE WAR expansion had more to fear from a successful Ger- many than from a successful Britain or France. While we discovered imperialistic ambitions on both sides we believed that the preponderance of respon- sibility, both for the war and for autocracy and mili- tarism, lay with Germany, and if imperialism were to triumph, we preferred a British to a German im- perialism. We felt that in taking our stand with the Allies we were contributing upon the whole to the hope of democracy and international peace, and in these we had both a sentimental and a material interest. There is another theory at variance with that just given concerning the reasons why the United States intervened. According to this theory large financial interests in America discovered that it would be profitable to have the United States enter the war and through their control of the press were able to create so strong a sentiment for belliger- ency that the government was forced to intervene as soon as Germany gave it an opportunity. On this hypothesis all our desire for internationalism and democracy was merely the sentimental covering for the crude economic interests of our unacknowl- edged but omnipotent financial rulers. This theory errs on the side of over-simplicity. It assumes an overwhelming preponderance of power on the part of our financiers. It presupposes a pure passivity on the part of the nation. THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 63 It cannot, of course, be denied that the economic forces pushing America towards war were less weak in 1917 than they had been two years before. A stupendous exportation from the United States to the Allied countries had created in this country an economic condition which would have been seriously damaged by a cessaton of that trade. Had we accepted the principle of the German blockade, which was our only alternative to war, the prices of food stuffs, cotton, steel and other products would have fallen and the result might have been a disas- trous commercial and financial crisis. It is doubtful whether most of our American farmers, tradesmen and wage-earners ever gave this question of economic advantages an hour's steady thought. Their consciously determining motives were of quite a different sort. The same is equally true of the majority of our financiers, even when they believed, rightly or wrongly, that their interests lay upon the side of war. Yet these economic interests were not, and never are, without their influence. Conditions had changed since the invasion of Bel- gium, and indeed since the sinking of the Lusitania. We had loaned large sums to the belligerent nations ; we had accumulated an exportable surplus of capi- tal, and had begun to think in terms of foreign trade and foreign investment. It does not follow that this is a "Wall Street war because many financiers desired it. To jump 64 THE END OF THE WAR from this premise to that conclusion is to ignore manifold non-economic influences, working upon our professional and other classes, the nation's idealism, the pent-up irritation at Germany's brutalities, the sympathies and antagonisms and fears of mil- lions of citizens. Yet the economic interests push- ing us towards the struggle have a direct bearing on the future conduct of the war. It would be stupid in us not to recognize that mundane and cal- culable motives merged with our idealism and still form a part of our war motive. If by victory we are to gain the things that most Americans really desire, if we are to know how to fight and on what terms to stop fighting, if we are to prevent the con- duct of the war and the resulting peace negotiations from being wrenched out of our hands by men with special group interests to serve, we must recognize this inmixture of the economic interests of financiers in the general body of motives, for the most part idealistic, with which we entered the fight. What specifically did our financiers, or at least certain of them, hope to gain from our participation? In the first place their loans to the Allies had al- most reached the maximum. The continuance of our profitable trade with the Allies depended upon England's ability to finance the payments, and as that nation could not continue to export gold, and as Americans would not buy many more European se- curities, American financiers welcomed any arrange- THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 65 ment by which our government would guarantee fu- ture obligations. If the United States loaned money to Russia at four per cent, and thereby enabled that country to place profitable orders in America, the operation benefited the vendors. Moreover, the huge military and naval expenditures which the American government would be compelled to make in the event of war would be of benefit directly to cer- tain corporations and indirectly to others. There were still other interests and still wider plans. To a few far-seeing men a successful par- ticipation seemed to offer an opportunity to extend American trade in alliance with England and at the expense of Germany. An even greater opportunity would be afforded for the profitable investment of the new exportable surplus of America, then already amounting to billions, and liable to be vastly in- creased in the future. If we refrained from partici- pation, the growing enmity and envy toward Amer- ica, manifested by the rival belligerents, might end in an adverse coalition which would deprive us forci- bly of all future investment opportunities. On the other hand, our aid to Great Britain in her extremity might easily lead to a profitable co-operation with that nation, in which our capital and her knowl- edge, experience and prestige would be united. We could lay the foundations for a vast, overpowering and ostensibly pacific imperialism. It would be idle to deny that such an imperialism 66 THE END OF THE WAR would benefit our American financiers. The rise in wages, a rise likely to continue as a result of lessened immigration, tends to make future returns on Amer- ican capital invested at home somewhat smaller than in the past. On the other hand, could the united British and American financiers find a non-competi- tive field for investment in Russia, South America, Africa and Asia, where wages are low, the advan- tages would be obvious. Moreover, the mere ac- quisition of a powerful army and navy would not only render America secure from invasion, but would enable the United States to put pressure upon countries like Japan and thus open up the vast in- vestment field of China. Finally, apart from any direct advantage, many financiers probably desired a large army as a bulwark to property rights in general. An army was necessary for the war, but a war was equally necessary for an army. That these considerations were the sole determin- ing factor in deciding the belligerent attitude of our financial groups is improbable. Idealistic factors also worked upon them, such as patriotism, the de- sire for prestige abroad, oppositon to the German militaristic system and morality. Nor did the war- like attitude of our financiers determine the Nation 's policy. In numerous cases the Administration had clearly demonstrated its unwillingness to permit either its foreign or domestic program to be dictated by financial groups. To cite only a few cases, Presi- THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 67 dent Wilson's refusal to endorse the Six-Power agreement with China, his resolutely pacific attitude toward Mexico, his treatment of the Filipinos, his consistent antagonism to Dollar Diplomacy, his atti- tude towards the LaFollette Shipping Bill, and finally his action in the threatened railway strike of 1916 indicated anything but subservience to Wall Street influences. In the presidential election of 1916 our financial interests were opposed to Mr. Wilson and there was no reason to believe that the action of the American government would be pri- marily influenced, if at all, by a conscious effort to do what the financiers desired. Motives and influences of a different sort were decisive. Our declaration of war was due upon the whole to a necessity, imposed upon us by the general situation, to take sides and upon a recogni- tion of the fact that we could not fight with Ger- many and could not help figliting with the Allies. Whatever Wall Street thought the average Ameri- can on the farms and in the offices and factories be- lieved that if we entered the conflict we must import into it the firm intention to aid in making our own democracy safe and in adding to the democracy of the world. This decision was enormously accelerated by an event which took place between the demission of the German Ambassador in February and the Declara- tion of War in April. The final impelling reason 68 THE END OF THE WAR for this declaration was the Russian Revolution, which cast the influence of a great nation in favour of a true democratization of the war, and against a merely imperialistic use of victory. We could stand shoulder to shoulder with the peasants and workmen of Russia, whereas we could not without blushing have accepted the leadership of Nicholas Romanoff. The change in Russia gave body to our hope that we might succeed in making the conflict a war for de- mocracy and internationalism. For us today this ambition is still the overriding consideration. We must gain a measure of democ- racy and internationalism or go down to moral de- feat. Not only is this striving for internationalism necessary to the attainment of a moral victory, but it is actually essential to the winning of the war. We cannot succeed in this struggle without national unity and popular enthusiasm, and we cannot secure this unity and enthusiasm except upon a program of internationalism. What still holds many Americans from an enthu- siastic endorsement of our participation is the be- lief that no real national issue is involved, that the war is European in its causes, methods and ideals ; not American. Had Germany sent an army to Long Island, had she owned Canada or Mexico, countries at which we might have struck, the conflict would have gained in immediacy and proximateness. The THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 69 issues could not possibly appeal to the Iowa farmer, for example, as they appealed to the Norman peas- ant. The latter, born in the shadow of 1870, grow- ing up under a German menace, acutely suffering from each of the calculated atrocities inflicted on men of his blood in Belgium and France, met the German invasion with an instant, because slowly prepared, hatred. But all these interwoven strands of patriotic antagonism, found in the Norman, were necessarily absent from the lowan. The Iowa farmer was not afraid for himself or his country, and would hardly have believed in a German inva- sion had it occurred. Though he condemned Em- peror William and von Tirpitz as he disapproved of Attila and Apollyon, he rather liked Karl Schmidt, who lived unobtrusively in the neighbour- ing township. Because of this obsolescent though still prevalent belief that we have little concern with Europe, it was difficult, even with the frankest discussion, to make the war's issues as clear as were those, for example, of 1861. The Civil War was patently almost tan- gibly American. Deeply rooted in a complex sec- tional antagonism, it sprang out of very intimate and vital repulsions. That war was long in prepa- ration and slow in approach. Therefore the cry, "The Union must be preserved," found a quite dif- ferent audience than does the slogan today that a world democracy is assailed by an East Prussian 70 THE END OF THE WAR group, whose name we have not yet learned to pro- nounce. We must fight as best we can with this derived and relatively distant impulse. It is this derived impulse, however, that forms, and must continue to form, our reason for fighting. We cannot secure a real unity by an appeal to hatred. To create a sentiment of hate against the German and Austrian is far more difficult in the United States, and far more ineffective and injuri- ous, than it would be in England or France. There are too many people of these nationalities within the nation, people upon whose assistance or qui- escence we depend for victory. Moreover, an attack upon the people of German or Austrian birth or descent extends insensibly to people of Bulgarian, Swedish, Swiss and Dutch origin; it extends to the Jews; it tends to develop a general anti-alien atti- tude, a contempt for Hungarians, Poles, Slovaks, Italians and others. The appeal to hatred breaks down because it is too generalized and because the assailed groups are able to strike back in the polling booths. Such an appeal destroys instead of creating unity. To maintain a united front in this w^ar we must refrain from race hatred, which does not in any case correspond with our traditions and instincts. We must justify the war by an appeal to American idealism and American traditions. This President Wilson has sought to do. In his war message he attempted to show that his proposal THE CONVERSION OF AMERICA 71 to guarantee a European treaty, providing for a new international order, is not "a breach in either our traditions or our policy as a nation, but a fulfil- ment, rather, of all that we have professed or striven for." The freedom of the nations to be guaranteed is, he asserts, but the promise of the Monroe Doc- trine, written large ; a concert of democratic nations is no ''entangling alliance"; the freedom of the seas has been long the aim of American diplomacy. ** These are American principles, American poli- cies." In other words, our support, even by force of arms, of an international order in Europe is but an extended Americanism. It is in some such spirit, though with some mis- givings, that we break with our old tradition of aloofness from Europe to enter upon a new crusade. We stand like the emigrant who casts a last longing glance at the home about which cluster his youthful memories and then faces forward to the inconstant ocean beyond which lies the new hope. But each emigrant no doubt pictures his new home as merely the old home glorified, seeing the familiar and there- fore beautiful surroundings with all the old evils gone. Thus we leave our policy of isolation for a new policy of intervention in Europe. We leave behind our old Americanism to find abroad a new and broader Americanism; an Internationalism. Our most sanguine optimists believe that we are to repro- 72 THE END OF THE WAR duce our Supreme Court in a Supreme Court of the Nations ; that we are to introduce our federal system to Europe, establish disarmament among nations as among our States, empty European frontiers of troops as our Canadian frontier is empty. We are to do this for Europe in return for all that Europe has done for us and in obedience to the same spirit that sends out our missionaries to Asia. We are to do it also in self-defence, for if we are to remain disarmed we must disarm Europe. We are going abroad to protect our own American democracy, as an emigrant may fare forth to new lands to earn the wherewithal to protect his own home. Such is the vision of idealists who have accepted the new doctrine. It is with this ideal that we join hands with our Allies seeking to destroy the hostile spirit of Prussian militarism, and to evoke the new spirit, by which the world is henceforth to be gov- erned. CHAPTER IV THE WAB AGAINST MILITARISM There is an apparent confusion in our claim that we are fighting "to make the world safe for democ- racy. ' ' We do not always mean the same thing by this luminous phrase. At one time we appear to be at- tacking the principle of autocracy as represented by the Kaiser and the undemocratic Prussian constitu- tion; at another moment we assail Prussia's mili- tarism, her insistence upon force, her policy of ter- rorization, the irresponsibility of her military or- ganization. From the charge of autocracy and mili- tarism the accusation shifts to a claim that Germany is quarrelsome and unreasonable, demanding vast rearrangements both in the colonial and the Euro- pean world. We emphasize the quality of this dan- ger, the principle of militarism; again we emphasize its magnitude, and oppose Germany because of the size and power she seeks to attain. We declare, for example, that the Berlin-Bagdad scheme will destroy Europe's Balance of Power and that Germany's neighbours will dwindle in the shadow of her vast empire and lose their initiative and independence. To know when we have achieved a real victory 73 74 THE END OF THE WAR in this war, and how to achieve it, we must define our purpose more clearly. We fight against Prus- sian autocracy ; are we then to continue the war until Germany completely changes her political system? Shall we reject all guarantees from her present gov- ernment? Will Germany consent to change under pressure or retain an imposed constitution after the pressure has been removed? Will a German democ- racy refrain from militarism and aggression? What are we attacking, a principle or a power, a political institution or a state of mind, autocracy, militarism or world dominion? And what is our aim? Are we seeking to reform Germany or protect ourselves ? Such a definition of our fundamental policy is peculiarly important because there exists among many Americans a vague, half-formed distrust of the formulae *Ho make the world safe for democ- racy" and "to destroy Prussian militarism." Many ask themselves, "What is German militarism to us? Is there such an institution except as a part of a general European militarism? ' ' Others believe that it is necessary to Germany. In any case are we, with our leaking democracy, fit champions of democracy? They even predict that, in seeking to free our foe, we shall fasten militarism upon our- selves. These doubts are dangerous. They impel us to accept an unripe peace in order to escape from an impossible war. Moreover, similar doubts are THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 75 expressed by men of totally different temperament, who wish to continue the war, not for rainbows and iridescent bubbles but in pursuit of concrete, valu- able American interests.^ They are willing to fight for territory, trade, power and the prestige which leads to power, but not for democracy, of which in their opinion we already have too much. To meet all this criticism, much of it unexpressed, is difficult and tedious, yet it is essential if we are to maintain our war solidarity. We must not only explain, but vivify and dramatize our real conflict with German militarism. Only so can we create a conviction that America has a substantial and per- manent interest in overcoming this institution, that it is an interest worth fighting for and not to be attained without fighting; that we are waging war for this purpose and no other, and that we do not intend that the war shall be diverted to any other end. Our vagueness of attack upon the German sys- tem is met by an equal vagueness in the defence. In perfect honesty, though with a misapprehension of the true issue, apologists for Germany insist that 1 "Without taking too seriously the fascinating program 'of mak- ing the world safe for democracy,' " writes Dr. H. H. Powers in an illuminating and candid book, "it is well to remember that the war is to be fought on Eurojican soil and in conjunction with nations having possessions in every part of the world. When the peace con- ference meets we shall hear very little of the sonorous slogans which heralded the war's beginning and much of the concrete problems for which these phrases suggest no very tangible solution." "America Among the Nations," by H. H. Powers, New York, 1917, p. 160. 76 THE END OF THE WAR there is no Prussian militarism, except as there is also a French, Italian and Russian militarism. They prove that in 1913 Germany had fewer sol- diers than certain of her opponents, both absolutely and in proportion to population, and that her per capita military and naval expenditures were con- siderably smaller than those of France or Great Britain. But all this is beyond the point, for mili- tarism does not depend exclusively upon the size, cost, efficiency or readiness of armies. It is a social, not merely a military, phenomenon, a form of social organization and a state of mind. That Russia in 1914 was more autocratic than Germany and in some respects as militaristic was a telling argument disquieting to liberals in England, France and America. That Japan was militaristic and autocratic was equally evident. If the Allies, therefore, had designed immediately to destroy all militarism they should logically have refused the assistance of Russia and Japan and thus added them to their enemies. Naturally no such suicidal policy was considered. To England and France autocracy and militarism presented themselves not as abstract principles, but as part of a vast com- plex and menacing system, and the war appeared to them a war of defence. They fought German militarism, not because opposed to its principle but because endangered by its power, just as they would have fought a menacing imperialistic German de- THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 77 mocracy. The militaristic nations, Russia and Ger- many, being mutually antagonistic, the western Al- lies enlisted the former against the latter. They em- ployed a future against a present foe, following not counsels of perfection but a law of necessity. In a real sense, however, Germany was a more avowed and logical representative and champion of militarism than was autocratic Russia. Su- premely capable she had wedded her efficiency to the militaristic principle. She had harnessed her in- dustry, commerce and educational system to a policy hostile to the democracy of the Western World. With a philosophy .justifying warfare and aggression she had indoctrinated her millions. In- tellectually and physically she was a gigantic pro- tagonist. On the other hand, Russian militarism was uninspired, inefficient and unoriginal; the sort of thing which liad once been and now no longer was in Western Europe. German militarism was based materially on a rapidly growing wealtli and intellec- tually on a neo- Darwinism, which envisaged all his- tory as a biologic struggle between growing and de- caying nations, in which the strong destroj-ed and devoured the weak. It was a very old, very new sys- tem, which threatened to subvert Europe. The German apologists, even when they admit the existence of this system, deny that it was a menace. It was, they claim, a sort of Cinderella militarism, modest, stay-at-home, pacific. "German militar- 78 THE END OF THE WAR ism," says Dr. Bernard Dernburg, ''has kept the peace for forty-four years. While Russia went to war with Turkey and China and, after having pro- moted The Hague Conference, battled with Japan and 'protected' Persia, conquering territory double the size of the United States on the might-is-right principle ; while England, the defender of the rights of the small states, smashed the Boer republics, took Egypt, Cyprus and South Persia; while the French Republic conquered the Sudan, Tunis, Madagascar, Indo-China and Morocco ; while Italy possessed itself of Tripoli and the islands in the ^gean Sea ; while Japan fought China, took Formosa, Korea and Southern Manchuria and has now, with the aid of her allies, invaded China, a neutral country; there is not one annexation or increase of territory to the charge of Germany. She has waged no war of any kind and has never acquired a territory in all her existence except by treaty and with the consent of the rest of the world." * Disregarding the exaggeration and disingenuous- ness of this statement, which gives a totally false impression of recent German foreign policy, we might accept it as literally true and still find in German militarism a menace more ominous than the land-greed of Great Britain, France, Italy and Rus- sia. Not for a moment may we compare the grav- 1 "Germany and England. The Real Issue," by Dr. Bernard Dern- burg. Chicago, 1914, page 6. THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 79 ity of invoking the present European condict with that of the conquest of Morocco, the "strangling" of Persia or the assault on the Boer republics. War against semi-civilized, half-organized collections of tribes, or even against the Boers, whether justifiable or not, is on a different plane from an attempt to overturn and subdue long-established, highly organ- ized national states like France and Belgium. And this many Germans believed to be necessary. It had long been an axiom of German policy that colonial possessions could be secured only by direct pressure upon European neighbours. African colonies must be won by invading Belgium and Russia, by bleed- ing France white, by destroying British sea-power. To secure what she wanted and believed she had a right to possess, Germany conceived that she was forced to strike at the heart of enemies who blocked her colonial development. Her militarism, there- fore, presented itself to such enemies as a mortal peril. It is not a question of morals that is involved but of necessity. Germany insists that even if she began the war (which she denies) she was justified by the selfish policy of enemies seeking to thwart and strangle her. Were this true, however, the mere fact that she could gain what she wanted only by overcoming those established nations would alone render her a menace to the world. But it does not appear that Germany used conciliatory methods to 80 THE END OF THE WAR gain her place in the sun.^ That she was constricted in her colonial expansion is true, for the Allies were neither generous nor far-seeing. But such halting advances as were made struck against an arrogant and irreconcilable spirit in Germany. Her rulers were victims of their own philosophy, believing in their military invincibility and in the doctrine that only by threats could concessions be enforced. They interpreted peace offers therefore as weak- ness, and entered so uncomprehendingly into nego- tiations as to make favourable results impossible. Their manners were, if anything, worse than their morals. They began negotiations by pounding the table, by an imperial visit to Tangier, or a sudden spring of the Panther at Agadir. They talked loud, rattled the sabre, appeared in the council cham- ber *4n shining armour." And back of the equivo- cating diplomats stood the mob of clumsy pan-Ger- mans, shrieking insults at France and England, proposing gross plans of conquest to Germany's rulers, thus reminding the world that whatever was given would be merely an occasion for new de- mands. The result was a diplomatic failure. If concession was to be interpreted as weakness, the neighbours of Germany would concede nothing. In 1 On the other hand it must be admitted that in the negotiations leading up to the attempted settlement of the Bagdad Railway ques- tion (1914) Germany showed a willingness to meet England half- way. Nor were England, France and Russia always conciliatory. THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 81 the years during which France deftly secured large additions to her colonial empire, Germany's blus- tering gained nothing but disappointments and ill- will. At bottom, of course, the question whether the one group or the other or both were at fault is quite irrelevant. What was revealed by the impotent deliberations between Germany and her present enemies was the fact that tw^o opposing policies were in conflict and that these policies gained ad- herents because they represented the antagonistic interests of two groups of nations. Each group believed that to accept its opponent 's principle would be fatal. England's international theory was pre- dicated on the assumption that the British Empire must increase or at least maintain itself, while the theory of Germany assumed that the Fatherland must grow. The new German Empire (so, at least, it appeared to Englishmen) must be founded upon the ruins of the British Empire, must live off the lands upon which Britain had lived, must break Eng- land 's resistance and if necessary destroy England's independence. The two principles had impinged be- cause the two nations had impinged. The menace of militarism became for Great Britain the menace of an expanding Germany. To understand what this peril really meant to Western Europe we must consider what might have 82 THE END OF THE WAR occurred had Germany succeeded in her first West- ern drive. Belgium would have gone down and France been crushed. A secure Germany army, occupying Paris, Calais, Havre, Verdun could have kept the dispirited French troops beyond the Loire and intercepted any effective aid from England. A treaty with France might have given Germany large tracts of land, immense mineral resources, a firm footing on the English Channel and a stupendous in- demnity, together with the French colonies and per- haps the French navy. It would have been an im- mense booty. Belgian independence gone, Holland, Denmark and Switzerland would have become vassal states. In the Balkans, on the road to Constanti- nople and Bagdad, no power could have resisted a future German advance, since Russia, without France's support, would have been impotent. Even Great Britain could have done nothing. ''When the mighty German Empire," wrote Mr. Frederic Har- rison, *'soon to be increased to a population double our own, is master of the whole seaboard of North Europe from Havre to Hamburg — a coast more fitted for navies than is our own coast between Dover and Aberdeen, when their aeroplane and Zeppelin stations look across the Channel from a dozen head- lands, and the mouths of great tidal rivers gape upon our shores, and behind these fortresses and docks there lies in wait a mighty nation having a fleet then larger than ours, and armies of three or THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 83 four millions of men — would the flag of Britain float quietly at ease ?' ' ^ Such was the menace of German militarism as viewed by British statesmen in August, 1914. Eng- land's participation was not decided by the Belgian invasion nor by the Belgian atrocities. These were mere incidents. Had Germany observed all the rules of war, killed with punctilio, conferred warm soup and iron crosses on enemy non-combatants and generally behaved like a twentieth-century Ro- land, had she invaded France at Verdun and not at Namur, the result of her victory would have meant an equal disaster to England. A crushing of France meant an ultimate crushing of Great Britain.^ While a complete German victory would have de- stroyed England, even the danger of such a victory would have blasted the hope of a British democracy. Democracy is a luxury. It can be developed and maintained only in a moderately secure and pacific world. This is due to the superior fighting efficiency of militaristic states. In a war between nations of equal resources, population and intelligence, one of which is devoting its energies and thought to social reconstruction and the other primarily interested in 1 "The Meaning of the War," by Frederic Harrison, London, 1915, p. 2. 2 To destroy Britain large armies would not have been necessary; she could have been starved financially ami economically by depriv- ing her of markets, raw materials and food. Without a German sol- dier on British soil, England could have been forced to surrender. 84 THE END OF THE WAR preparing for war, the advantage lies enormously with the latter. The great military superiority of Gennany over other nations, the unlimited devotion of her people and the skill and foresight with which her martial operations are conceived and carried out, reveal an alarming military advantage of the auto- cratic state over the democratic nation. The dan- ger cast its shadow far during the ten years pre- ceding the conflict. The fear of Germany in both England and France was one of the greatest ob- stacles to democracy and social reform. In England Lord Roberts urged conscription and was opposed by the great masses of the wage-earners. In France the Socialists vigorously combated the reintroduc- tion of the three years' military service. So long as one nation remained supremely efficient in its mili- tarism and ready to attack at any moment, the other nations were hampered in their efforts to achieve progress toward political, industrial or social de- mocracy. We in America are forced to view the menace of German militarism in the same light as do the democrats of England and France. If we are to achieve democracy, or even to maintain such democ- racy as we now have, conditions must be established in the rest of the world which will render us safe. In the past we have tacitly assumed that our safety would be permanent. We were so far re- moved from Europe that we believed that no great THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 85 power could attack us. Isolation, however, is meas- ured not in miles of distance but in the difficulty and delay of transporting troops, and in this respect the technical progress of the last thirty years has vastly diminished our immunity. Our enemy will no longer transport his troops with slow-sailing vessels of small burden as during our wars with England, but will use gigantic and rapid steamships. Our first line of defence is almost gone. Our second protection from the superior strength of Europe lay in her balance of power. No nation wished to embroil herself with America so long as she feared enemies nearer home. A hostile coalition of states, as was threatened during our war with Spain, would have found us defenceless. But if Germany were to succeed in crushing France and in destroying England, the balance of power would come to an end, and ultimately the victor could com- bine against us a large proportion of the superior military and economic resources of Europe. In such a case it would have been difficult to defend the in- tegrity of our territory or to find leisure to develop our democracy. We should have had other preoccu- pations. This brings us to the point where the questions with which this chapter opened can be answered. We combat German autocracy because it is a princi- ple adverse to the democracy for which we strive. We combat German militarism because it, also, rep- 86 THE END OF THE WAR resents an antagonistic principle. But against neither of these should we have gone to war but for the fact that these principles so present themselves as to menace our democracy and our safety. We are opposed to German autocracy because it aids German militarism ; to German militarism because it leads to German aggression ; to German aggression because, owing to Germany's strategic position and her im- mense strength, owing to conditions which in large measure are not Germany's fault, her aggression may overturn the balance of power in Europe, de- stroy our security, and render it difficult for us to develop a democracy at home, or even to maintain our independence. We are therefore compelled at the worst to fight for a return to the Balance of Power, although theoretically we are opposed to this system, or at the best for an internationalism, in which all peril will disappear. The one thing, how- ever, which we cannot view with equanimity is the marshalling of Europe's strength under the leader- ship of a single mighty state, autocratic, militaris- tic and aggressive. We are therefore fighting both a principle and a power; we are opposed to Ger- many, not only because of the quality but also be- cause of the magnitude of her menace. For us as for Britain the Mame was a sav- ing victory, at least temporarily. It is true that the danger to us from a defeat at the Marne would have been delayed, for between us and Germany lay THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 87 Great Britain, as between her and Germany lay France and Belgium. When we contemplate, how- ever, the ravages of German submarines operating under grave difficulties we gain some conception of what a Germany, possessed of the French fleet and a part of the French coast, could eventually have achieved against the commerce of the British Isles. At best Great Britain could only have maintained her existence; at worst she might have been con- quered and her navy and a part of her industrial power annexed. Against such a combination of navies and resources, against even a Franco-Ger- man navy (Great Britain remaining neutral) the United States could accomplish little. AVe should face a hostile combination of the immensely more powerful and better organized resources of Western Europe. By what means could we uphold the Mon- roe Doctrine or maintain our commerce? Could we even be sure of defending our o\\ti soil? Had Germany won that battle, we should instantly have recognized the sinister menace of her militar- ism. With her defeat, however, we again breathed lightly, for in due course Britain, France and Russia would break down the Central Empires. We there- fore composedly returned to our discussions con- cerning White Papers, provocations, counter-provo- cations, the rights of neutrals, the wrongs of com- batants. Yet though the danger of a victory for German militarism seemed to have passed, we were 88 THE END OF THE WAR gradual!}- familiarizing ourselves with the quality of that institution. It was its f ormidableness that most astounded us. We were outraged by Louvain, Rheims, the Zeppe- lin raids, the submarine atrocities, the execution of Edith Cavell, the murder of Captain Fryatt, but what brought us definitely into opposition was the sheer power and viability of a principle which we had believed to be half-dead. Militarism had al- ways been associated in our minds with autocracy, and that we had conceived as a weak-minded and hoary immigrant from an outlived age, a sort of political Fafner, surviving through mere inertia. It was preindustrial, which is our modern and secu- lar synonym for pre-Adamitic. It had no more raison d'etre than the fact that it was still half- alive and not worth killing. We no longer had any quarrel with kings and emperors, who had had their claws cut and had become gracious layers of corner- stones and innocent symbols of democratic power. Autocracy, we believed, would disappear gradually and in fractions, tail, body and head, like the Chesh- ire cat, until, as with British royalty, nothing re- mained but the smile. The war taught us that autocracy was not a thing of kings and crown-princes, but a living principle, an efficient form of social organization. Instead of dying decently at the first whiff of factory smoke, instead of being run over by the new railroads or THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 89 crowded to death in our modern cities, it con- verted industrialism to its own uses and seated it- self in the centre of the economic system. It did not die of education, but made of the school-teacher one of its main supports. The university and the news- paper became, not its executioners, but its servile handmaidens. Autocracy was efficient. It per- sisted in living. It persisted in growing. Therein lay its menace. It was expansive, nec- essarily expansive. It was expansive because of its origin and the law of its being. The autocratic principle persisted in modern intelligent Germany because it grew out of foreign relations, was born of danger and lived on danger. It was her external menace that fastened autocracy and militarism on Germany. During two long centuries her invaders (Swedes, French, Croats and others), by keeping the nation divided, had cre- ated German autocracy and militarism by giving the people so ardent a desire for security that they wel- comed any social organization by which it could be attained. To this day the German lives under the shadow of the Thirty Years' War and remembers Tilly, Wallenstein and Gustavus Adolphus, as he remembers Louis XIV and Napoleon. Even the liberal German tends to regard an autocratic mili- tarism as an insurance premium. He feels toward it as we toward our police; we may not love the policeman but prefer him to the thief. 90 THE END OF THE WAR The power to defend, however, means the power as well as the temptation to attack, and Germany like other nations is not beyond such temptation. All the European peoples were menaced. We have read recent history wrongly if we conceive of it in terms of an aggressive Germany constantly planning to attack nations wholly devoted to peace. Both groups of allies meditated both aggression and de- fence. Justified or not, Serbian ambitions in Aus- tria and Russian ambitions in the Balkans were aggressive, as were also Austria's designs on Ser- bia. Because Germany needed defence, because she wanted to aggress, because she believed that only by military effort could she achieve her ends, and finally because she was in a geographical situation in which a successful war could destroy the security of other great nations, German imperialism became a deadly menace. Thus the Western World, including America, comes into conflict with a nation, representing power, aggression, and an alien philosophy. Of these opposed philosophies one is based on an autocratic, militaristic foundation, emphasizing the virtues of order, discipline, endurance, subordination, pro- lificity, stoicism, and laying stress on loyalty and a traditional personal honour. It believes in compulsion, the omnipotence of the state, the empti- ness and worthlessness of plans to avert warfare. The other philosophy is more democratic and pacifis- THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 91 tic, emphasizing individual freedom, the quest of pleasure, the virtues of prosperity. It is melioristic and legalistic, stressing rights and privileges and underemphasizing duties. It is progressive and con- fident. It believes in a low birth rate, in ease and protection from danger. It is optimistic and money-making. Of course not all Germans uphold one philosophy nor all British, French and Americans the other; there are millions of exceptions on both sides. Bemhardi himself is our witness to the demoraliz- ing, by which he means demilitarizing, influence upon Germany of recent wealth. On the other hand, there are always a few American, French and British fire- breathers, with little to learn from their more nu- merous and loquacious German compeers. Not the exception, however, but the rule determines. For reasons, partly beyond its own control, Germany be- came the exponent and protagonist of the militarist philosophy, and sought to live up to its doctrines in a war, which had she been victorious would for a time have subverted the democratic civilization of the West. It is of course not to be assumed that of these opposed philosophies autocracy was aggressive and democracy not; both principles were, and are, aggressive and intensely missionary. The very phrase ''Making the world safe for democracy" suggests how encroaching was our own principle. 92 THE END OF THE WAR England, France and the United States had hitherto prospered because of historical and geographical reasons, and had sanctified their gains by a glori- fying possession. The course of historic evolution in its larger bearings had worked for them, and they, its beneficiaries and disciples, saw everything that it had made; *'and behold, it was very good." On the other hand the German principle was disturb- ing and revolutionary because Germany had every- thing to gain from a change. The indefatigable traveller from Mars, arriving at this green earth in the spring of 1914, might have come to the typically Martian conclusion that the Earth was most unfortunately divided, that an in- efficient and garrulous democratic spirit had con- quered the greater area while the unique and saving principle, an efficient, industrialized, moral autoc- racy was dying of inanition within narrow confines. With all of which many Germans would agree. They would proudly admit that militarism is pecul- iar to Germany, but in the same breath they would insist that it is excellent, the last word in our mod- ern development towards equality, democracy and subordination. When a new recruit enters the army, says N. Gold- mann, a young defender of the principle of militar- ism,^ two things occur: he is given a uniform and 1 Goldmann (N.) "Der Geist des Militarismus." ("Der Deutsche Krieg.") Borlin and Stuttgart, 1915. THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 93 is told to do whatever his superiors command. These two acts typify our modern civilization. The uniform is the expression of the democratic idea, the suppression for the time being of all differences among men; ''in uniform no one is noble or com- moner, millionaire or beggar, artist or philistine, orthodox or atheist," but all are members of the army. By the distinction between those who com- mand and those who obey, on the other hand, the ** aristocratic idea" is maintained. Democracy and subordination — the union of these two creates mili- tarism — and civilization. Therefore, writes Goldmann, *'the battle cry of the opponents of Germany is justified. The Ger- man spirit may be called the militaristic spirit." But far from being alien to modern development or opposed to West European civilization, militarism is their distinguishing characteristic. The great city, the factory and our whole industrial system are based on its principles of uniformity and subordination, in other words, on regimentation. Therefore we speak of the ''barracks" of the work- ing-men and of the industrial "reserve army." The individual workman, technician, engineer, director counts for little; the enterprise is all-important. So in our intellectual life militarism is supreme and "the German spirit rules the world." The opposi- tion to militarism comes not from Western civiliza- tion but from the "atomism" of English life, from 94 THE END OF THE WAR the English incapacity to generalize, to sacrifice for the common good, even to recognize the existence of a common good.^ Germany has become great, continues Goldmann, through her militarism, just as Great Britain became great through "her anti-militaristic, individualistic spirit. ' ' In the world struggle between the two prin- ciples militarism must be victorious. *' Germany will conquer and the world will be ruled by the mili- taristic spirit." Only such a victory will permit the present age to solve its problems. Despite Mr. Goldmann 's prediction, the world, in the event of an Allied victory, will seek to solve our modern problems without the assistance either of autocracy or of militarism. It will see what it can do with democracy. But the democracy which can be utilized in such a vast reorganization will of necessity be something different from the lax, inefficient and brutal plutoc- racies which we find in several of the nations opposed to Germany. It must be a socialized de- 1 Militarism is not identical with the maintenance of an army, as the Swiss experience proves. In a recent booklet the German Social- ist, Karl Kautsky, clearly makes this distinction. "We (the Ger- man Socialists) have fought against the military system not to make the land defenceless, but in order to introduce another system in its place, which will give us the necessary guarantees that the army will always be the tool of the civil authorities and never their master. When the latter is the case we call such a condition 'militarism,' and it is against that alone that we fight." "Die Internationalitaet und der Krieg," Berlin, 1915, p. 26. quoted by Thomas F. A. Smith, "What Germany Thinks," New York, 1915, p. 112. THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 95 mocracy, not a mere popular government based on money and on the exploitation of the poor. It is sometimes alleged that, because we in Amer- ica have not attained to such a socialized democracy, we are not fit to become the champions of the demo- cratic principle. Critics point to our lynchings, our political corruption and ineptitudes and our gross economic inequalities. They point out that it is our o^vn Prussian-blue reactionaries, grown fat and no- torious in their warfare against a true American freedom, who are loudest in their defence of our democracy. But what else could be expected? No war was ever won by the virtuous alone, and it is inevitable that tax-dodgers, union-smashers, monopolists, cadets, ward-politicians, sweat-shop proprietors and desultory burners of Negroes, to say nothing of criminals, lunatics and aging keepers of houses of prostitution should be enlisted side by side with other elements in the population. We are a full democracy not in being but in process. It is a war for the bases of democracy, for the safety of a capitalistic society developing rapidly towards democracy. Like several of our Allies, we are fight- ing not only for freedom from alarms over our in- dependence but also for a chance to try out the Great Experiment, to struggle forward towards the ultimate attainment of a great ideal. And in this struggle we can count upon the willing assistance of 96 THE END OF THE WAR men who do not grasp the implications of their adhesion. America therefore is at war because her growing democracy is in conflict with the militaristic insti- tutions and philosophy of Germany, and because her democracy and her entire national development would be endangered by the German victory, which would have been probable had we not entered. We thus have both a general and a specific interest; a desire to promote a better system in Europe and a wish to maintain our own democracy intact. In a sense we are fighting a preventive war, seeking to destroy the menace of German militarism before it can attack us in our own home. Just as we sink submarines at sight, rather than by ''armed neu- trality" limiting ourselves to defence, so we assail Germany in concert with her present enemies rather than attend her possible attack after her victory in Europe. How much further should we go? Have we an interest, and has the world, in proceeding beyond the destruction of German militarism to the perma- nent building up of a British, French, Italian, Rus- sian or American militarism? The danger is not fictitious. Germany developed her militarism out of a sense of external peril, and if the war goes against her, and the old European system remains, she will still be menaced and at least potentially militaristic. Furthermore if we en- THE WAR AGAINST MILITARISM 97 courage Serbia and Italy, Greece and France, Brit- ain, Japan and Russia to develop new antagonisms, we shall be planting the seeds of militarism through- out the world. Germany will have been defeated, but German militarism will have triumphed. CHAPTER V SPOILING THE ENEMY Since the imperialism of the Allies in the present war is less sweeping and drastic than that of Ger- many, we are sometimes urged to close an eye or turn our back. When we are trying to capture an armed burglar we do not inquire too curiously into the ques- tion whether a few of the posse comitatus are modest confidence men. There is a sense of proportion in these things, and there are diplomatic convenances. Even were our co-belligerents twice as imperial- istic as they are, we should still be compelled to make common cause with them against the still more men- acing German aggression. Our secure loyalty to our Allies is not in question. But to make common cause, to maintain a real concert of action, requires harmony in ideals and unity of aims. It is for this reason that we are forced to review the instincts, motives and demands that lie behind the armies of our Allies. When we are united we shall have a chance to win the war. Until then we shall drag along, working at cross-purposes. The truth must be faced. The efforts of the Allies to gain a victory for democracy and internationalism have everywhere been impeded by their own na- 98 SPOILING THE ENEMY 99 tionalistic ambitions. It is trebly unfortunate that this has been the case. Not only have these ambi- tions vitiated their good faith in their war against German autocracy, not only have they made the eventual victory far less valuable, but they have delayed and jeopardized that victory. Because of their clashing territorial ambitions our co-belliger- ents find it difficult even today to achieve unity of purpose or action, and as their plans of aggrandize- ment become known in Germany and Austria, and are there exaggerated, they tend to unify the entire population of the Central Powers, reactionaries and democrats, conservatives and liberals, Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, and even the exploited races of the Dual Monarchy. The secret treaties into which the Allies entered make the whole war for democracy appear to our enemies as a sham and as an excuse for their own imperialism. To many it will seem mal-a-propos and perhaps even unpatriotic to state these facts. Why should we injure our own side even by telling the truth? Will not a revelation of these covert ambitions of our Allies have the effect of demoralizing the En- tente Powers and of destroying their solidarity? When our sons and brothers are risking their lives on the battle front is it time for academic discussions of past events, discussions which cannot but give aid and comfort to the enemy? But what if the enemy already knows ? The news- 100 THE END OF THE WAR papers in the hostile countries have printed long ac- counts, true and false, of the designs of each of the Allied nations. By suppressing such facts we do not prevent Germany's knowing them. Today we of the Allied countries by reason of a supposedly patriotic silence are fighting in the dark and risking lives that might be saved. We are standing in the way of our own solidarity, and are making our task harder and more dangerous than it need be. Be- cause we do not properly consider and duly assess facts which are important elements in our war prob- lem, we weaken our morale and strengthen that of the Imperial German Government. If we face the truth and intelligently guide our action by the con- clusions we reach, our enemy will be welcome to any comfort he may derive from the result. There is an even more important reason for dis- cussing this question. When we entered the war we already had an inkling of the imperialistic aims of several of our Allies. If, notwithstanding this knowledge, we took sides with them, we did so be- cause we vaguely felt that this imperialism was not a necessary and inevitable part of the allied program, that by our concert with these nations we might aid in the democratization of their peace terms, that we might raise a standard about which the more demo- cratic of our Allies and the more democratic classes within these Allied nations could rally. Unless we can do this we can gain no moral victory. And we SPOILING THE ENEMY 101 can make no progress in this direction so long as we seek to remain silent on this delicate question. It is not necessary in discussing the territorial am- bitions of our Allies to pass a moral judgment or to assume an ethical superiority on our own part. No demand by any of our Allies has been more flagrant a breach of international morality than were the claims which led to our war with Mexico. It is superla^ tively easy to indict nations for concealing selfish am- bitions under protestations of international recti- tude. But such an indictment does not help us, for our problem is not to distribute praise or blame but to seek a true basis for an international civilization and thus secure a real victory. It is far more impor- tant to understand these nationalistic ambitious, to recognize how deeply they are rooted in the whole history of modern Europe and to acknowledge their inevitableness in the circumstances than to appraise and judge. What was the diplomatic state of Europe out of which grew these demands of our Allies? What chance was there for any nation following the even path of rectitude and abnegation? In his defence of Sir Edward Grey's foreign pol- icy, Sir Gilbert Murray deplores the fact that the diplomacy of the nations has been frankly egoistic, cruel nnd dishonest. "There is," he says, about the ordinary processes of Foreign Policy, "a constant suspicion of intrigue, a constant assertion of 'inter- 102 THE END OF THE WAR ests,' a dangerous familiarity with thoughts of force or fraud, and a habit of using silken phrases as a cover for very brutal facts. . . . Foreign Politics are the relations between so many bands of outlaws. ' ' ^ As a consequence even the nations with high ideals must go into international conferences with a big knife, ready to carve out a slice of territory or carve up the plausive foe. In 1914 therefore the enemies of Germany, though fighting a war for their very existence, were nei- ther more nor less scrupulous than they had been in former years. These Western and Eastern Allies, defending themselves against Germany, conceived the problem of the division of the world somewhat as did Germany, simply because it was the only con- ception then admitted in diplomatic Europe. Ac- cording to this conception each nation was bound to grow, expand, get what it could, make the best bar- gain with enemy and ally. To take, was not only directly advantageous but also had the merit of pre- venting the enemy from taking. Of all the original allies in the struggle against German aggression, Imperial Russia was probably the most avid of territory and the least concerned with the ideals that inspired many Englishmen, Frenchmen and Belgians. From the Czar's point of view the war was not a struggle of democracy 1 "The Foreign Policy of Sir Edward Grey," by Sir Gilbert Mur- ray, Oxford, 1915, p. 41. SPOILING THE ENEMY 103 against militarism but a contest for supremacy in the Balkans and for domination of the Straits. The Imperial Russian Government wanted no barren vic- tory but a visible expansion. To meet these large demands France and Great Britain presented counter-demands, and from that moment the war became a feverish scramble for spoils. Arising thus out of national struggles for territory and military prestige, the contest was carried on by the enticement of new Allies through promises of material reward. It was fought not only for democracy but for lands, indemnities and trade privileges. With many peo- ple in the Allied nations the purpose of the war was to discredit "the aggressive objects and the unscru- pulous methods of the Central Powers"; with others the purpose was to secure definite material national- istic aims. These aims were not new ; they have always existed and are indeed inseparable from the long struggle for power in Europe and for dominion beyond Eu- rope. No one can study the devious course of in- ternational politics since the Congress of Berlin (and before) without recognizing that European na- tions have long carried on a ruthless, aggressive policy both within Europe and in Asia and Africa. To take a single example; there was little concern for internationalism in the attitude of any of the European Powers towards Turkey, the Balkan States, Persia, Morocco or China. "The history of 104 THE END OF THE WAR international diplomacy in the Islamic world," writes Professor Gibbons/ "is an unbroken record of bullying and blundering on the part of all the Powers. In governmental policies one searches in vain for more than an occasional ray of chivalry, uprightness, altruism, for a consistent line of ac- tion in attempting to solve the problems that were leading Europe from one war to another, for con- structive statesmanship." ''The indictment of Eu- ropean diplomacy in the Near East is terrible." ^ It would be profitless to cite further instances of the callousness and blindness of the past foreign policies of all the great European nations. Though in Great Britain, France and several other coun- tries, many high-minded men strove for interna- tional concord and not for nationalistic gain, foreign policy was determined not by the ideals of these lib- erals and democrats, but by necessities imposed by a dangerous and thoroughly anarchic condition of the world. Europe was a trembling balance of hos- tile powers, and each state stood by its allies, right or wrong, in order that they, in turn, might come 1 "The Reconstruction of Poland and the Near East," by Herbert Adams Gibbons, New York, 1917, pp. 115, 116, 117. 2 "The evolution of Serbia, of Roumania, of Bulgaria, of Greece, of Crete ; the suflFerings of Armenia and Syria ; the anarchy of Arabia; the vacillating policy in Egypt and Northern Africa; the intrigues at Constantinople; the handling of Persia and Afghanistan, give us the formula of European diplomacy. It is this: selfish national interest end.eavouring to thicart other selfish national tn- interests." Gibbons op. cit, pp. 118, 119. (My italics.) SPOILING THE ENEMY 105 to its aid in time of trial. From 1870 to 1905 Ger- many, by means of her alliances, maintained a cer- tain supremacy on the Continent, while Great Britain held first place in colonial development. From 1905 to 1914, however, there was waged an embittered, secret and desperate contest between Germany, seek- ing to dominate, and France, Russia and Britain de- termined to break her hegemony. The struggle for control in Europe merged with a conflict of rival imperialisms in which there was little pretence of disinterestedness. Among all these nations there was not much to choose in the matter of comparative international morality. Germany's Chinese policy was brutal and hypocritical, but no worse than the corrupt and ruthless policy of Russia. As for the long struggle between Austria and Russia for dom- ination of the Balkans, neither nation was squeam- ishly virtuous.^ Had the Allies in this war abjured all hopes of aggrandizement and limited themselves to an idealistic sacrifice for small nationalities, the step would have marked a complete moral revolution, a religious conversion hitherto unknown in European diplomacy. They had not abjured such hopes. It is true that progress has been made towards a liberalization of allied war-aims, partly as a result of Russian and 1 For a partisan history of this confliot, from the Austrian point of view, see "Der Gegennatz zwischcn Oe8terre[ch-Un{;arn und Russ- land," by Dr. Alexander Redlich, Stuttgart and Berlin ("Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt") 1915. 106 THE END OF THE WAR American influence and partly because of untoward events upon tlie battle-field. The January (1918) speech of Lloyd George marks a recession from a former imperialistic position, and a similar at- titude is being crystallized all over Europe. Even today, however, the Allies are inspired by motives of national gain as well as by a sincere reprobation of Germany's crimes; the idealistic motive is still weighed to earth by a thousand gross desires and an inveterate predatory habit. A new and better spirit, though seeking expression, fails completely to inspire the vigorous, short-sighted men who con- duct national policy. These diplomats of the old school want from this war something concrete and tangible, that they can tack on to their kingdom or empire, and that will show on the map and in the balance sheet. They want all they can get, even if they pay for it by future wars. Thus in every country, not even excluding the United States, two motives enter into the war spirit. One is the ambition to end war, to promote interna- tionalism, to destroy militarism ; the other is a desire for concrete imperialistic gains. Upon the whole, the average soldier and the average citizen are more aware of the first than of the second motive. Of the British volunteers hundreds of thousands would never have enlisted save for Belgium; you could not have bribed these men by any hope of trade advan- tage or other aggrandizement. In France also, as SPOILING THE ENEMY 107 in Italy, Belgium and Russia, millions wanted noth- ing but justice and international peace. Yet, as matters then stood, these millions did not decide the joint policy of the Alliance. That Alliance, growing out of the former European anarchy, was held together by greed, revenge and the lust for con- quered territory. From the Allied point of view the war threatened to become, what from the Ger- man side it had largely been from the beginning, a war of national aggression, a war for booty.^ That booty took three forms: money, trade ad- vantages, territory. The money was to be secured by the levy of crushing indemnities; the trade ad- vantages by a commercial war after the war; the territory desired was to be taken from Austria- Hungary and Turkey, from Germany, and possibly Bulgaria.^ A demand for indemnities lay on the surface. It sought justification in the desire to be recompensed for actual losses incurred, in a wish to punish Ger- many and finally in the theory that a Germany weak- 1 It may perhaps be urged that not only are many of the terri- torial demands of the Allies reasonable and just (which claim of course would be readily granted) but that it is better to concede even an unjust and exorbitant demand of a potential ally than, by alienating him, permit the victory of the enemy. There is of course no hard and fast line to be drawn here. \\*hat seems actually to have Iiappened, however, is that the Allies have really weakened their morale, and with it their military power, with every new engagement, violative of internationalism, into which tliey have en- tered. - To say nothing of Persia, Albania, Abyssinia and China. 108 THE END OP THE WAR ened by such exactions would be unable to renew the attack upon the Allies. To begin with the more extreme advocates of in- demnities, let us quote Mr. L. J. Maxse, editor of the National Review. ''The main object of peace," he contended, "should be to crush and permanently cripple Prussia. . . . Surely if the Prussians lose it is for them to pay and for the Allies to receive the milliards. If the process of payment reduces Ger- man Kultur to be a hewer of wood and drawer of water for the rest of the century for European civil- ization, so much the better for the world. ' ' ^ From France one heard the same cry. Here is how M. Stephen Pichon of the (Paris) Petit Journal addressed Germany. "You will have to reimburse the Allies for all the costs of the w^ar, and this will be an enormous sum. But this is not all. You will have to pay for the cathedrals, the museums, the palaces, the huts, you bombarded and burned, the butcheries you committed, for the widows and orphans you have made. That will make billions and billions that you will have to pay us. no! Not at once, for you could not do that. ... It will 1 Cited by Stoddard, op. cit. p. 30. Mr. Maxse, who may be pre- sumed to know England, obviously feared, however, that many Eng- lishmen would desire to be lenient towards a defeated Germany. "We know the Rt. Hon. Faintheart and the Rt. Hon. Feebleguts too well to suppose that the (present stern) mood will last and that he will remain robust when the Rhino Whine sets in. Then our bleaters will give tongue and our 'blighters' will chip in. We shall see the old Potsdam Press in full working order, devoted by day and by night to the sacred cause of 'letting off the Boche.' " SPOILING THE ENEMY 109 take you a long time — ten years, twenty years, thirty years. . . . Until Germany has paid this off, Rus- sian garrisons will occupy Breslau and Dresden, English garrisons Hamburg and Frankfort, a Bel- gian garrison shall occupy Cologne, a French one Coblenz and IMainz. Only after tlie last penny has been paid will the Allies withdraw, and even then not until after they have blown up the last German fortress." ^ In similar vein, M. Onesime Reclus: *'The stink- ing beast is down! We are going to divide up its flesh and its bones. We will make of it (Germany) an insolvent debtor."- Other writers desire to an- nex the great coal and iron deposits of Western Germany as part of a readily collected indemnity. The argument against punitive indemnities levied upon Germany does not rest upon any assumption of her innocence or modest}'. Germany has de- prived herself of the right to protest. No one can read the terrifying anthology of her imperialistic literature, collected by S. Grumbach,^ without con- stantly encountering the most brutal plans for mulct- ing her victims. Her record in 1871 and in the illegal and extortionate requisitions upon Belgium since 1 Stoddard, op cit. pp. 51, 52. 2Publishod in "Tx- Rhin Fraiicais" in the summer of 1015; quoted by Stoddard, op cit. pp. 53. 54 ^ Das annexionistischc Dcutschland, Einc Sammhing von Dokumen- tev, die scit dem .}, August. /.''/}, i»i Dtuischland orffnttlich oder geheim verbreitet umrden, by S. Grumbach, Laueanne, i917. 110 THE END OF THE WAR 1914 is irredeemably bad. Yet a similar attitude on the part of Germany's enemies is irreconcilable with the higher principles they profess. Moreover ade- quate compensation is utterly impossible. The al- lied losses incurred in this War will by August, 1918 far exceed a hundred billion dollars, a sum in excess of the total national wealth of the Central Powers. The indemnity is uncollectible. Even an attempt to collect would reduce Germany to starvation by annihilating her industry. Facing such terms any nation would fight until her entire wealth, to be used for an eventual indemnity, was spent in killing her enemies. To occupy Germany until the Allied de- mands were met would be to occupy her for ever. It cannot be done. *' Non-German Europe," says Mr. Bernard Shaw, "is not going to spend the re- mainder of the duration of this planet sitting on Ger- many 's head. A head with the brains of sixty mil- lions of people in it takes more sitting on than we shall have time for. ' ' ^ Even a lesser indemnity, an infliction of a few tens of billions, would meet with insuperable diffi- culties. Experience teaches that punitive imposi- tions are likely to reach enormous proportions, when each of a group of Powers seeks to secure the largest share. The Boxer indemnities are a case in point. Here exorbitant demands were made on China by six nations, especially by Germany, France and Rus- iThe New Republic, Vol. 9; Jan. 6, 1917. SPOILING THE ENEMY 111 sia. Similarly an attempt by a group of exigent victors to levy indemnities upon a prostrate Ger- many might cause dangerous dissensions.^ There remains one form of indemnification which would bring in large sums, what we may perhaps call the indemnity by evacuation. It is a device by which the inhabitants of a conquered territory, such as French Lorraine or Westphalia, are to be driven from the land, and their property seized, with an amiable recommendation to their own government to reimburse them. Such a savage proposal has actually been made by the cartell magnates of Ger- many. It is difficult to believe, however, that a plan, so abhorrent to our fundamental conceptions of in- ternational morality will be adopted by the Allies. The demand for trade discrimination after the war is in accord with the same principle of seeking to punish the German people. Its central idea is the permanent crushing of Germany. She is to be denied access to foreign markets, refused raw ma- terials, slowly throttled by an economic constriction. If the military war were nothing but an incident in an abiding struggle, such a commercial policy would be a legitimate act of defence and aggression, since a nation may be wounded and destroyed economically 1 Against an indemnification by Germany of Belgium alone, or of a rebuilding of devastated portions of Europe at the joint expense of all Powers, the same objections do not apply. Such costs could be assessed by a Board of Arbitration working under rules agrcH>d to at the Peace Conference. 112 THE END OF THE WAR as effectively as by arms. If Germany were to re- main bellicose and were to continue the contest in the shape of an intensified military preparation, ivJiich is war, the Allies would be justified in using their deadliest economic weapons. Today this Al- lied threat of a war after the war merely emphasizes the fact that though Germany holds certain terri- tory of the Allies, they in turii hold the key to her economic life. It is a conclusive answer to her tri- umphant demand that we look *'at the war map." As an enduring institution, however, in a world look- ing to peace, such a boycotting of the victim is utterly destructive and reactionary. Its adoption would set back the world many decades. It would injure both the boycotted and the boycotters. It would be a con- tinuation of war, a new incentive to war.^ 1 The economic war after the war is not to be interpreted as a mere continuation of the old protectionist policy of the nations. The primary aim of that policy was to benefit the home industry whereas the avowed object of the economic war is to injure the enemy. What the effect would be upon the home industry has been described by several free traders. "French protectionists demand the repeal of Article II of the Treaty of Frankfort, which assured most favoured- nation treatment to France and the German Empire. Many who are most anxious to annihilate German trade propose to keep out Ger- man