Kitabı oku: «The Lost Fruits of Waterloo», sayfa 10
CHAPTER XI
ARGUMENTS FOR A FEDERATION OF STATES
The arguments against attempting to establish an enduring peace are undoubtedly formidable, but they do not leave the idealist entirely vanquished. On his side fight humanity and reason, and it is his function to stand by humanity and reason. He has long ago formed the habit of attacking obstacles. In this case the objections he meets are all rooted in the opinions of men, and he loves to change opinions, or, if he does not change them, to hammer away at them as long as life lasts. For his fine optimism we can but have great respect, and in this chapter I intend to summarize his arguments and give them to the public in as strong a light of plausibility as possible. If the stolid opposition of the “practical” world is not to be broken down, let it be shaken as much as may be. The time of its defeat is written in the book of fate. It may be that the time is near at hand.
In the first place, let me recall a statement made in the preceding chapter. To get any desired reform adopted and carried out, it is first necessary to get the people to imagine the reform in operation. I mean that they must have a clear mental picture of themselves living contentedly under the proposed plan. Let the proposition be made in such a way that the effective people who direct the government can not, or will not, in the mind’s eye see it in operation, and it will surely fail. Let them imagine its successful use and they will most likely find it unobjectionable. Likewise, if the people of the world could imagine a great coöperative union to promote peace, with enough force behind it to enforce the will of the union, if in their minds they could see themselves adjusted into such a system, with all its economy in taxes, human suffering, and ordinary governmental effort, it would not be very difficult to make such a scheme work in actual experience.
The “practical” man has but little imagination. He has to be deceived into the acceptance of reforms. Make him believe that a given plan has been made to work and his objections are diminished, if not overcome altogether. This is not said for scolding but as a sober fact confronting the man who reasons his way through matters that perplex him. The “practical” man is not responsible for his weakness, and he is in the majority among men. On the other hand, the man with imagination is not to be faint-hearted. If he can see and talk, he may, by reiteration finally make his brothers see also.
Fundamentally his position rests upon the reasonableness of his proposition: war is madness, brutality, useless waste of wealth and life, and the negation of civilization. It proceeds from the unnecessarily irritated state of the public mind. Reason demands that she be allowed to have an opportunity to exert her influence in a reasonable world over reasonable beings. Since law is the expression of the will of reasonable beings, let law be given the supervision of all the disputes which may possibly lead to war. How true all this sounds! And the preacher of peace says boldly that it is more worth while to plan, spend money, and take a chance in a great world effort to bring such a reasonable situation to pass than to go on planning, spending, and risking things in the efforts to make a system work that has ever led us around in a circle to the same old end, war and misery.
The advocate of peace points to the duel. There was a time when every man felt it his right and duty to settle his own quarrels. He was his own judge and his own sheriff. The result was so bad that law was created to enforce peace between individuals. The old condition survived in the duel, but in most countries this at last was brought under the authority of law. Private combat in its nature does not differ from public combat, and if one was eliminated by the creation of a law that was strong enough to forbid it, the other can be abolished by creating a still stronger law, powerful enough to restrain states as criminal law restrains individuals.
Kant’s argument for perpetual peace ran like this, but he, in sympathy with Rousseau’s social contract theory, argued that the law that restrained individuals was the result of agreement between individuals; and he went further and argued that all that was necessary to secure perpetual peace would be for the states to agree to establish a league, or a federation, to enforce it.
Now there was a fallacy in Kant’s argument that has a bearing on the subject immediately before us today. There is no reason to suppose that any state ever arose from an agreement of individuals. The ordinary process was growth out of several conditions. An enlarged family might become a state, or one tribe might conquer another and enlarge itself into a state. Kinship and force were probably the chief causes in producing the state; and reason seems to have played a small part. Similarly, law grew up, not as the result of reason, but as a body of tribal customs, reasonably interpreted by the wise men of the early state.
There is, therefore, no analogy between the proposed method of forming a great super-state with its own body of law, the object of which is to restrain the states from going to war, and the method by which the early state was created. In fact, if one great nation were to conquer the rest of the world and impose its peace on all the world, as it would do, we should have a process more analogous to the origin of the early state. And that is one way of having peace. Within the last years it has seemed a horribly possible method; for if Mittel-Europa becomes a fact, it will have such predominating power that it is difficult to see what will stop its march to general authority.
Pointing out Kant’s fallacy weakens his argument as such, but it leaves us in such a dilemma that we are prone to pronounce his suggestion worth trying as an escape from conquest by one great power. For if the world is tending toward unity through conquest, who can doubt that it would be better to anticipate the process, save a great sum of human suffering, and by agreement found the world federation which is the same result to which ages of war will lead us. That we could have such a super-state by contract is not to be doubted. It would be as possible as the creation of the United States of America by agreement.
Another argument of the peace advocate is that the old system by which the world was kept in equilibrium, the balance of power, has broken down, and cannot be trusted to preserve the peace of the future. Its chief characteristic was that several states mutually checked one another. If one manifested an intention that was alarming to the rest they combined to restrict the action of the aggressor. The several states were with regard to one another in a condition mobile enough to permit any state to shift from one side to another as the situation demanded. Now this condition no longer exists. There has developed a mid-continental alliance, apparently expecting to continue to act as one state for practical purposes, which in itself threatens to dominate Europe. To hold it in check calls forth all the united force of the other states and then success is obtained only through the greatest amount of preparedness. Such a condition is anything but the old system which was to work through balance and concert of action.
The central position of the Germans and Austrians gives them an immense advantage, if the world is to go on in its national rivalries. On the west lie the two nations who are today doing most to hold them in restraint, France and Great Britain. The former could never stand against Germany alone, and the latter is remote enough from the German frontier to make it improbable that her forces could reach that spot in time to prevent the Germans from gaining the initial advantage which, in a state of efficient preparation is the only military success that either side can hope to win. In the face of a strong and threatening Germany it would be very likely that these two nations would have to make a more than formal alliance. Even if that happened, it is possible that Germany would construe it as a threat and begin war.
The only other strong check on the central powers is Russia, now in a sad state of change. What her future is going to be is still problematic. It is a stupendous task for so large a nation, composed of landlords and peasants for the most part, to pass from an autocracy to a self-governing nation. It took France, a smaller country, from 1789 to 1879 to pass through the various changes and counter-changes by which she reformed her government into a republic. It is safe to say that in the Russian development the changes will come more rapidly, but it is not impossible that in this country a period of prolonged unrest is ahead. Under such circumstances Russia could hardly be counted on to give much aid to the Western nations who wished to restrain Germany. In fact, so fluid would be the state of her society that she might well become the victim of German ambition and contribute valuable parts of her empire to swell the resources of her aggressive western neighbors.
One insecure spot must be pointed out in this argument. It is the continuous close alliance of Germany and Austria-Hungary. If that breaks down the whole argument fails. At the present time it is impossible to say what may happen in this respect. Much will depend on the new emperor of the Dual Empire. That he has a very difficult problem before him is without question. On one hand is the intense Hungarian aversion to absorption by Germany, on the other the passionate desire for union by the German people in the Dual Empire. It is supposed that the emperor does not favor absorption; but it seems certain that he is not able at this time to take an open stand against it.
The strong part Germany has taken in saving Austria from Russia gives Germany a firm hold over the imagination of the Austrian people. It is possible that financial aid has also been extended to such an amount that Austria would be embarrassed if called on to pay back. Nor is the kaiser in Berlin in a mood to brook defiance from Vienna. If, therefore Kaiser Karl wishes to be free of his too intimate dependence on Kaiser Wilhelm, he will find it to his advantage to conceal his desire for the time being. It is probable that we shall not know the present true state of feelings in Austria for several years after the war. But unless she is very well Germanized, it would seem that she must soon realize that she is playing a losing game in the combined movement. The real advantages of this war, if any are obtained, are German advantages. It is German trade, German kultur, and German prestige that are being enhanced by the war. Austria as Austria is not reaping advantages commensurate with the gains of her greater partner.
The financial argument seems to be much on the side of the peace advocate. Let us consider the situation in which the European states will find themselves after the return of peace. Bankruptcy is a relative term, if we so interpret it. That is to say, if the people are willing to bear patiently their great burdens they will bear them, and the debts that have been acquired will be shouldered. If one nation repudiates this debt, or scales it down, it is probable that the others will do the same, since to continue to carry the debt would leave the faithful nation at a disadvantage with the other nations in reference to future struggles with one another.
No one knows as yet just who owns the bonds in the several nations. From Germany we hear that they are widely held. It is the policy of the government of any nation to distribute a heavy debt as widely as possible; and we have in recent history instances of great patriotism in assuming debts of this kind. Now it is fair to say that the more widely the debt is distributed, the greater its likelihood of permanency. The larger the number of poor people who own it, the harder it will be to lessen the burden of the nation. It follows that in this case the immense interest charge is likely to persist as a permanent encumbrance on the economic life of the country.
On the other hand, let us say that it turns out that the debt is not very widely distributed after all, or that after the war it follows the course of most national debts and passes into the hands of the rich. Then we have the situation likely to promote class friction. The taxes necessary to pay the interest will fall on the mass of people, who will probably come to believe that they are taxed for the benefit of the wealthy. Class jealousy will lead to suggestions of repudiation. Such a course is more than ordinarily easy in Germany, France, and Russia, where there are well organized socialist parties, already keenly suspicious of the capitalists.
Thus, whether the debt is widely distributed or not, it contains a menace to society. In one case it constitutes such a burden that it absorbs the financial strength of the government. In the other it invites the most formidable struggle of the poor against the rich that the world has seen in a century.
Such a situation is bad enough in itself, but it does not directly affect the question of peace, our main consideration at this time; for the debt will exist as a result of the war, and nothing in the view of the friends of peace can prevent it. But through whichever of the two contingent courses it goes, the state will have difficulty in continuing the old system.
Let us say that we have a permanent great debt with a huge interest fund, and the state wishes to add to the taxes in order to keep up its measures of preparedness. The result must be to produce uneasiness in the minds of the taxpayers. In Germany, for example, the interest charge and the provision for pensions on account of the present war will probably be considerably more than a billion dollars a year. Added to the ordinary expenses of government it will make a burden more than double that of 1913. Can the government go on providing armaments, that may lead to another war, without jeopardizing the loans that are already issued? In the face of such heavy taxation it would not be surprising if the people sold their holdings of bonds to the capitalists and later turned toward repudiation. On the other hand, it would be to the interest of the capitalists to favor moderate expenditures for armaments and armies, lest the patience of the people under their burdens might be exhausted.
But suppose the debt was not distributed widely in the first place, and suppose it was repudiated after a class struggle, or for any other reason scaled down. The result would be a severe blow to credit, and in the future it might be so difficult to raise funds that war could not be carried on. No nation can afford to contemplate war if it has not borrowing capacity. If the debts of one war are repudiated those of another may also be repudiated. It behooves the capitalists, therefore, to support a policy which will make armed conflict impossible. While bonds benefit the banker when issued up to a certain point, they can in some conditions become his most serious difficulty. So many perils await the capitalist from a renewal of struggles like the present, that it is not too much to count upon him as a supporter of peace until the financial situation in Europe shall become better than it will be for many a day. It is his true interest to support a federated peace, which will tend to make his bonds secure.
As to the influence of autocracy, the advocate of peace must admit that it is by nature hostile to his system of coöperative peace. Such coöperation must depend on mutual confidence and trust between nations; and it is natural for distrust to exist between republican and autocratic states. The whole trend of autocracy is to self-assertion. As it exists in Germany today it could hardly be relied on to take its place in any union of states which would involve the subordination of individual national interests to the common good.
Granting this, the advocate of peace can assert that Germany must eventually give up autocracy. As the only great nations that hold to this relic of a departed age Germany and Austria-Hungary are becoming anachronisms. They are set against the spirit of the twentieth century. If they tide over the crisis that now confronts them they will encounter more furious storms at a later time, and eventually autocracy must be broken down. The argument rests on faith in progress. It is the result of confidence in the innate qualities of human nature. So many times in the past ages have the people risen against bad government, that it is safe to say they will repeat the process until all inequality shall have been reduced.
German autocracy, a survival of a past century, exists only because it takes for its object the good government of a parliamentary system. In intelligence and honesty it is not like the ancient system. The resemblance is only in forms. The republican says: “I will give the people just, intelligent, and honest government.” The German autocrat says: “I will do all these things”; and he redeems his promise. His brother of the eighteenth century had no such purpose, being so certain of his position that he did not have to promise the people anything. The German autocrat lives in fear of an overthrow. Perhaps some day he will make a slip – it may be from the action of an unwise emperor or a selfish party clique – and away will go the whole system.
Last summer a crisis arose in Berlin. The very life of the autocracy seemed about to be taken. It was saved finally by a narrow margin, and with the making of promises which seem a long step forward. The people were assured that such was their meaning. If the promises are broken, there will be a reckoning. It may be said that there will never again be so good an opportunity to force the granting of parliamentary reforms. That statement is contestable. The autocracy needs the support of the people at present, in order to bring Germany through the crisis that has arisen from the action of the autocracy, and it may seem from that standpoint that the people never had and will never have an equally good opportunity to strike a blow. But the call of patriotism is strong in Germany, and if the liberally minded persons were to stand deliberately for the defeat of the war credits unless they were given the reforms they demanded, it is doubtful if the people would support them. It is hard to carry a country through a great political revolution while the very life of the country is threatened.
After war comes a time of questioning. The German people will have reason to ask themselves what has been done to them. The burdens of taxes, the loss of commerce, the wrecks of human life through maiming, and the great gaps in population through death, all these things can but come to the minds of the people. At that time the press must lose something of its rigorous control, for it is impossible that when the Germans get over the feeling that their country is in danger they will continue to tolerate a press whose every word is dictated by the one thought of keeping the people solidly united in war sentiment. If it should happen that the empire has an emperor who is not trusted by the people it may be that the questioning will sweep away many old doubts and forms.
These things should not be taken as prophecy, but as possibilities for tempering the opinion that Germany is destined to be permanently autocratic. The advocate of an enduring peace has a right to think a self-governing Germany well within the bounds of possibility before another decade has elapsed. If such a thing happens, certainly one of the most serious obstacles to peace will have been removed.
I shall venture to put one more argument into the mouth of the advocate of peace. Probably he has not used it as I am going to use it, but it works his way; for it shows that a tremendous fate threatens, unless some coöperative movement is established to avert it. Stated briefly it is this: Through the ages runs a law of unification in society, and it seems probable that the world has today come to the point at which the unifying force is likely to take a long stride forward, a force which may operate in one of two directions. I mean that with the next century unification seems imminent by conquest, if not by common consent.
It is not easy to say that the process of concentration in human society is a law in the sense in which there is law in natural science. But there is a general social tendency, seemingly irrepressible, operating steadily from the beginning of history, for the political units to be larger and ever larger. If this tendency is not a law it is an extremely strong force; and we may well ask if it is not about to take one of its great steps forward.
A glance at the past will show how the process has gone on. In ancient times diminutive states were absorbed by larger but still very small states, which in turn were welded into so-called confederacies, or leagues, which at last became integrated states. The concentration went forward in cycles, one empire rising in power until it ruled most of its known world, and then it broke into pieces through its lack of cohesive power. Thus it was with Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome. Whenever the bubble burst the process of unification began again immediately, and on a larger scale. After the fall of Rome it was again set in motion in an area that included most of Europe, the unifying hand belonging to Charlemagne, king of the Franks. His personal valor won the triumph of his will, but his empire fell away soon after he relaxed his hold upon it.
Then began a rebuilding process. Feudal states evolved out of clashing duchies, counties, and bishoprics. Immediately feudal states began to devour one another. With each century the unit of government became larger. At last rose the great power of Spain, so great that it became a threat to other powers, and then followed a series of wars to decide whether or not Spain should be the supreme state in Europe, and Spain lost. A century later France seemed to be seeking to establish herself in the same kind of supremacy, and again the combined force of Europe was necessary to break her purposes. Still later came the Napoleonic wars, in which Europe seemed for a moment to be subjected by one central will, but again it was saved through great suffering. To some people it seemed that the Napoleonic attempt would be the last.
Of these modern struggles in Europe it is seen that each has been harder than the struggle that preceded it. That is because in each the implements and organization of warfare were improved as compared with the former struggle, and because states were stronger and more capable of endurance. It is also evident that each of these great wars was the result of the ambition of one sovereign, supported by a strong and well united nobility, while in each case the most effective resistance was offered by the states in which some degree of self-government had been adopted.
The struggle that now exists is the highest manifestation of this tendency to unification that the world has seen since the fall of Rome. Although Napoleon seemed at certain moments in his career to stand nearer absolute success than Germany now stands, he never really gained as much as the kaiser now holds; for he won his successes against the poorly trained and dispirited troops of Prussia, Austria, and Spain, while the Germans have won what they have won against some of the best troops of history. Moreover, Napoleon’s power was founded on his success solely, while the German victories rest on the long established and certain foundation of the German empire. It seems reasonable to say that Europe stands today nearer to unification than it has stood since the fall of Charlemagne’s power.
Two great combinations are fighting for mastery. One has the avowed purpose of extending its power until it is in a fair way to absorb the rest of the states one after the other. The other group fights to beat off the fate that threatens, and it acknowledges that it cannot succeed unless it crushes its opponents into such a state as will take from them the desire and the power to attempt another war for supremacy. Whichever side wins, the other will feel an impulse to continue to act in alliance. And we may have a Europe of two great federal states, with the little states at their mercy.
For example, how can Great Britain and France ever be opponents again, as in the old days? The sense of common sacrifices would of itself make them more than friends, but the consciousness that each depends on the other in dealing with the great danger will never fail them, and it will force them into some kind of political union. In the same way, we should expect to see a greatly altered relation between Great Britain and her colonies. Three-quarters of a million of colonial defenders constitute a contribution that demands reward. As the colonies depend on the mother country for some important elements of defense, and Great Britain cannot comfort herself with the assurance of safety unless she has a broad imperial power for its basis, it would seem natural to expect some kind of imperial union. As to Belgium, when she escapes from the grasp of Germany, what mind has the ingenuity to foresee her fate? If she relies on the promise of neutralization, she is again tempting fate. If she is annexed to France, with some kind of autonomy, German enmity will be aroused.
Probably her fate is to be bound up with the fate of the other small states of Europe, states which in the present war are hardly entirely sovereign. Holland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Greece, and Portugal have lost something of the power to direct their internal affairs. In war they have had a lesson of the necessity of bending to the will of an external government, which they will probably remember many times in the days of peace. When once a state has yielded at the dictation of a neighbor, and made money out of it, the next time it is pressed yielding becomes an easier thing. The fate of these small states in a possible era of fierce competition between two great groups would be very perplexing. In an era of peace through federation, says the advocate of peace, it would be much happier.
In short, it is a practical question that our idealist puts to us. Here is a world that has gone mad, shall it not turn to reason again? The old system has broken down, shall we try to make it work again? To do so will lead us to just the disaster that now overwhelms us. Shall we not try a plan which will not cost us in money half what the old system of preparation cost, and which if it fails cannot be more of a failure than the old system has proved? If autocracy stands in the way, let us hope that autocracy will give way before the march of the spirit of the times. And finally, the law of unification is working so strongly in these days of international relations, that we are at last at the point at which we cannot longer elect to remain distinct in our national activities. We must choose between a world state through conquest, and a world state through mutual agreement. Which shall we take? To try to go on with the states entirely distinct, is to invite their conquest by a great state.
