THE ANGLO-GERMAN RIVALRY AND THE UNITED STATES
American life is still too intense, the problems of its economic development, and the relations between the individual and the State, still, too, unsettled, to have aroused an interest in the nation at large in questions of foreign policy which are no less far-reaching in their nature because not visibly oppressive. Yet the recent vast extension in foreign trade, and the gradual industrial evolution of the country, coupled with the growth of population, causing American exports to be increasingly manufactures, and decreasingly agricultural, must inevitably bring about an augmenting attention to questions of external order. Already, within the last decade, this has become noticeable in the importance which the so-called "Open Door," in China, and the relations with Latin-America have assumed before the public eye. In both instances trade, present and future, has been the foundation and the objective of interest. The political cloak assumed, in the one case, by often repeated formulas regarding the integrity of China, in the other, by the Monroe Doctrine and American sisterhood, has covered the very legitimate self-interest presented by the extension of commercial relations and the growth of the nation's influence.
Beyond this, however, watchfulness ceased. The affairs of Europe, picturesque and weighty as they appeared, yet seemed to have no direct visible relation to the United States. In whatever direction might he natural sympathies, the country as a whole remained unaware that its own interests were in any way concerned or affected by the future of the European problem, and continued indifferent thereto. A traditional disinterestedness continued as potent a formula of statecraft as half a century ago, without Americans realizing that altered conditions rendered necessary a modification of this attitude, and that the vast extension of international interests and the complexity of modern life no longer permitted former isolation. While the country had consciously altered its political, strategical, and economic situation in the world by the creation of new oversea interests and the industrial growth of a century, it yet cherished the illusion of being able to preserve intact diplomatic ideas that had long since served their time. The belief is still diffused that since in Europe America had no territorial interests nor ambition, it had likewise no solicitude and could with impunity remain indifferent to whatever occurred on its political plane.
A brief retrospect suggests, however, ample proof to the contrary. The European balance of power has been such a permanent factor since the birth of the republic that Americans have never realized how its absence would have affected their political status. American national existence was brought about by European dissension. When Pitt resisted Napoleon, the justifiable irritation we felt against British high-handedness at sea caused us to forget that England's fight was in reality ours as well, and that the undisputed master of Europe would not have been long in finding pretexts to reacquire the Louisiana territory which, except for England, he would never have relinquished. When the Holy Alliance endeavored to concentrate the power of Europe under the banner of legitimacy and divine right. Canning, by inspiring the Monroe Doctrine, interposed an effective restraint in the Western Hemisphere, and in the oft-quoted phrase, "called in the New World to redress the balance of the Old."
Fifty years later, had England joined France in recognizing the Confederacy or in her abortive Mexican adventure, the history of the United States might have run a different course. At no time since the foundation of the Republic could a change materially altering the ancient European balance of power have been brought about without perceptibly affecting American interests and the position of the United States. Even to-day, in spite of the enormous increase in the country's resources and population, this political axiom holds as true as it did in the period of national formation and weakness. The undisputed paramountcy of any nation, both by land and sea, must inevitably make that Power a menace and a peril to every other country. In the words of a distinguished Secretary of State, Mr. Olney, were the career of a Napoleon ever again to approach or even to threaten repetition, not merely sentiment and sympathy, but the strongest consideration of self-preservation and self-defense might compel the United States to take sides. It may therefore be of interest to survey the forces of war and peace to-day at work in Europe and see if there lies any menace to that balance of power, the preservation of which is essential to its national security.
At a time when arbitration and peace movements have assumed an unprecedented importance, it is a curious commentary on the age that there should likewise be so vast an increase of armaments and military preparation. The same skepticism in abstract justice, the same beef in the possible imminence of a great conflict, the same desire on the part of every nation to be the arbiter of its own political fortunes, is apparent throughout the world. A feeling of unrest, moreover, has spread over Europe, and the inflammable state of its public opinion is everywhere noticeable. The modern conception of the nation in arms, and the prolonged situation of a peace constantly more prepared for war is not the only cause for the existence of this spirit. The fresh taxation imposed by economically wasteful armaments, at the same time as nations find themselves increasingly compelled to embark on extensive and expensive programs of social reform, have contributed to augment the cost of life and the consequent dissatisfaction. There is, moreover, a growing discontent throughout Europe with the system of parliamentarism and certain effects of representative Government. France, England, and Germany are all experiencing this, though for different causes and with different purposes in view. To a nation confronted by internal difficulties the diversion of an energetic foreign policy appealing to a united patriotism is always a possible alternative. That it has rarely been abused stands to the credit of European statesmanship. But in any survey of the existing situation it lurks in the background as a dangerous possibility.
It remains an anomaly that modern democratic government has been no more peaceful than former absolutism. Moltke's prophecy that popular rule enhanced the likelihood of war was correct. The situation lately witnessed in the parliamentary discussion over the Moroccan agreement in both Germany and France, where the leaders of political parties were far more combative and unyielding than their Government, proved significant, though in the one instance hostility was directed against England, while in the other it was against the compromising attitude on the part of the French Government. The high sensitiveness of a proud people, the confidence in its own strength, and the critical and often malignant scrutiny to which every Government is now exposed from within, are all factors contributing to embitter the atmosphere of international relations by stiffening the attitude of those in power.
Various elements have thus contributed to bring about the present state of restlessness and uncertainty in Europe. Nor are other signs wanting to confirm this. Like the flight of birds before a storm, some indication of the belief in the likelihood of an impending conflict may be gathered from the recent efforts on the part of the smaller European States to preserve their neutrality and their independence in the event of the greater Powers going to war. Belgium, Holland, the Scandinavian countries, and Switzerland, have each quite recently taken stock of their position in such event, and embarked on fresh military or naval programs to increase the national security. A wave of renewed militarism and nationalism has spread over Europe. France, where it had lain dormant for years, is now witnessing an intense revival provoked by the recent difficulties with Germany over Morocco, and excited by its splendid success in aviation. In Russia the painful awakening after the Manchurian War has led to a reorganized army and the construction of a new navy. In Austria-Hungary the difficulties attending the late annexation prompted a military reform, while gratitude to Germany for the assistance rendered during that crisis, has led to an extensive battleship program and awakened for the first time naval ambition. Even Italy, whatever be the future of her newly designed African Empire, realizes that she has condemned herself during many years to come to a vastly increased expenditure for armaments.
The sources of European unrest could, however, be lightly dismissed without the antagonism between Great Britain and Germany. In spite of the attempts made on both sides to explain it away, and to dwell on the pacific disposition animating the construction of new "Dreadnoughts," this remains as an irreducible fact obscuring the political horizon. Nor should it be regarded as a mere contest for commercial supremacy on the part of two countries, one seeking to preserve, the other to gain new markets. Intelligent Germans are the first to recognize that neither their merchants nor their trade suffer in British colonies. Beneath it lies the deeply conscious rival ambition of two great nations, the one to maintain undiminished the heritage conquered by its forebears, the other to obtain the place "under the sun" which it regards as its right. And the magnitude of this issue is enhanced by the hardly lesser constellations gravitating around the rivals, each with its own historic traditions and interests, but who have realized comparative security in a system which finds its political expression in the series of alliances and understandings forming the balance of modern Europe.
Paradoxical as it may seem, the grave danger of the present relations between Great Britain and Germany lies in the fact that there is no real difficulty between the two Powers. Where a concrete obstacle stands in the way, by compromise and mutual goodwill it may be removed. In recent years the Anglo-French and Anglo-Russian negotiations, by a judicious policy of give-and-take, smoothed out through diplomatic means the colonial rivalry of a century. But between Germany and England similar adjustment is impossible. Their antagonism presents nothing concrete save rival ambition. Both Powers are logical and right in their attitude. From England's point of view she is carrying out her traditional policy of wellnigh four centuries. Whether set forth by an Elizabethan Cecil or a modern Lloyd George, whether directed against a Spanish Armada, the ambition of Louis XIV, the legions of Napoleon, or the might of William II, the purpose is the same. The same causes have made her the enemy of France and Russia and the friend of Prussia, which make her to-day the friend of Russia and France and the adversary of a united Germany seeking oversea expansion.
The position of Germany is no less logical. Having achieved her unity and imperial position by blood and iron, there is no reason why she should abandon the element of armed force which has been the mainspring of her triumph. Patriotic Germans may differ among themselves whether an increased naval program is advisable, but the nation is practically united with regard to the importance of maintaining her military supremacy, both by reason of her exposed central continental position and because of the unhealed wound inflicted on her Western neighbor. It is no fault of Germany if her strength is so huge that Europe trembles when she moves. Nor is she to blame if in the quest for new outlets her efforts at expansion under her own flag are thwarted by the colonial empires of her rivals. The unfortunate position of Germany in this respect is readily apparent, but less obvious is any peaceful remedy compatible with the interests of neutrals. The suggestion lately advanced of compensation in the Congo, or in the Portuguese colonies, even if practicable, would only be a later cause of difficulty. It might delay, but could not arrest, the growing antagonism between two great countries in their struggle for supremacy. The appetite for colonies is fed on what it consumes, and a justifiable desire for more suitable frontiers or enlarged boundaries would be the inevitable result of such surrender. What on one side could be regarded as generosity, would on the other be interpreted as weakness, with the invitation for subsequent aggression brought about by the pressure of strength.
There is no desire herein to criticize Germany. Her action, present and prospective, is that of a great nation conscious of its force, but conscious also of the limitations of its present exercise and of having arrived too late in the field of colonial enterprise and conquest. On the side of Germany there should, however, be less irritation at the acts of other Powers desiring to preserve their own, and unwilling to diminish an Empire won by the valor and foresight of their ancestors.
While the Anglo-German antagonism finds sources of friction in Africa, its essence is, however, far more metropolitan than colonial, and its character psychological more than commercial. The feeling of hostile antagonism exists to-day among the English and German people to a greater extent than in their Governments. The latter realize vividly the terrific responsibility of such a conflict, the magnitude of the interests involved, the catastrophic nature alike of victory or defeat. In the fact that neither can wish to precipitate this contest lies the surest hope for peace.
Sir Frank Lascelles not long ago remarked that as each side awaited the other's aggression, it is likely that peace would long continue. Mutual hesitations exist which must counsel prudence. The prestige of Germany and of the Hohenzollern Dynasty, acquired by war but fortified by peace, is too great to risk everything in a struggle which if unsuccessful would shake the foundations of the throne. German military science has as its axiom, moreover, to embark on no war unless certain of success, while the destruction of its seagoing commerce is accepted as inevitable. France had in the past appeared to Germany as the hostage for England. But even in this, victory no longer seems as certain as in the past. In the eyes of experienced observers, the German army has deteriorated in recent years, while the French has commensurately improved. Now that the latter is no longer honeycombed by dissension, its still-existing superiority in artillery and its new development of aviation give it certain advantages over the greater numerical strength of Germany. For the first time, also, since Waterloo, England is able to throw a military force of consequence on continental soil. The six British divisions of professional soldiers equipped for foreign service and ready for early mobilization are to-day an actuality which Germany cannot fail to consider, and which should contribute toward remedying any inferiority in men from which France would suffer. The fields of Belgium may again witness a struggle where the descendants of Napoleon's and Wellington's men will this time stand side by side against Blücher's.
If the uncertainty of victory on land as on sea thus imposes a restraint on the German warlike spirit, the tremendous consequences of a conflict likewise speak for prudence in Great Britain. The danger of a contest which would be a matter of life and death to her, the terrific sacrifices entailed even in the event of victory, the risk of starvation at home in case of disasters at sea, the possibility of invasion, the destruction of the Empire if defeated, are all nightmares to appal the most venturesome statesman.
There is little danger that, conscious of these grave responsibilities, any German or British Government would do ought to precipitate a conflict of such gigantic proportions, however favorable the moment might appear. But there is serious danger lest, in an atmosphere as surcharged as is the present, with the deep-rooted feeling of hostility existing on both sides, some petty cause of friction, or some paltry colonial quarrel, inflaming public opinion, should induce either Government to prefer a foreign war which it might regard as inevitable to domestic humiliation. The explosion provoked by the so-called Agadir incident, which brought three nations to the verge of war for a few square miles of Moroccan sand, is indicative of the intensity of feeling aroused, and of the pregnancy of danger. Future war or peace is to-day in the hands of the English and German people far more than in that of their Governments. The decision rests with them not to goad the latter into assuming positions or advancing pretensions from which honorable retreat will have become impossible.
Whatever be the future of this situation, a farsighted statesmanship compels the United States, as it does every other nation, to take cognizance of the possibility of a conflict breaking out in the near future between Great Britain and Germany, and to consider in what manner we would be affected by it. It is an easy remedy to repeat the old adage about our proverbial noninterference in European affairs. With all respect toward a policy which in the past has been thoroughly sound, it cannot be said in this instance to offer a complete panacea. A struggle between the two nations, even though it did not set ablaze the rest of Europe, cannot leave America indifferent. In too many regions of the world would our interests be affected by its reality.
It would withal be absurd to deduce from this that we should be dragged into a war against our inclination. The alternative of arms is no necessary consequence of diplomatic interest, and in such a conflict our direct participation would, if we maintain our strength, be most unlikely. This should not, however, excuse any neglect on our part to consider the various political, strategic, and economic points of view in regions of the world interesting us, where such struggle would react upon them, or how the balance of power, which it should be our policy to preserve in Europe, would be affected by the contest. An indication of its far-reaching nature, independent of the actual field of hostilities, would, for instance, be presented in the Far East, where the even temporary withdrawal of European influence would leave us face to face with a commensurately more powerful Japan. To say nothing of the Philippines, the situation thus created depends on the degree of stability and strength attained by China. It is not difficult, however, to conceive of circumstances where to insure respect for the often pledged integrity of that State would lead us toward a course of action which we would be obliged to adopt single-handed, and without the benefit of such diplomatic support as in the past we have received from friendly Powers.
Omitting, however, from consideration the extent to which the almost inevitable conflagration would affect the world in a conflict between Great Britain and Germany, three general possibilities are open: (1) The victory of the former; (2) The reverse; (3) A war of indefinite result.
So far as we are concerned, the first alternative would be the least likely to materially alter the existing status. England might conceivably recover a pecuniary indemnity and deal a death-blow to German oversea commerce. But the German colonies are not such as to sensibly attract a conqueror, nor would a change in their title affect us in any way. While the predominant position of Germany upon the European Continent would be shattered, the balance of power would hardly be affected, even though the disposition of its weight were altered. The insular position of Great Britain debars her from continental ambitions, and any attempt to assert herself in such manner would both run counter to all her traditions and be stoutly resisted by former allied States. It is fortunate that in modern times no nation has succeeded in being paramount on both land and sea. Great Britain has hitherto refrained from unduly developing her military strength and there is no reason to anticipate that flushed by victory she would adopt a different course. Her naval superiority, which is a matter of life and death, menaces no one, though it bars the way to Germany already supreme on land. But for us it represents an essential element in the maintenance and stability of the European balance of power.
If the terms of peace after such a war were to be dictated in London, the situation as it affected us would be radically reversed. While defeat for Germany might prove disastrous to the dynasty, for Great Britain it would be fatal to the Empire, whose disintegration would almost inevitably ensue. It is apparent that the fate of Canada and the British possessions in America immediately concern us. Of Canadian loyalty to the Empire there is here no question. It is certain that, like the other self-governing British colonies, she would to the best of her ability support the mother country. But if the fortune of war prove adverse, there is no reason to suppose that Canada would long continue under the control, however nominal, of a parent State deprived of prestige and authority and ruined by an unsuccessful war.
Nor is it necessary to proceed so far. The active participation of Canada in such conflict would by its very nature invite rivals. If after a series of disasters Great Britain should be crushed and her fleet destroyed or captured, Canada could not by herself stand up against an all-powerful enemy, and the fate of the Crown colonies would be even more immediate. A strong appeal would in all likelihood be made for our protection, which could hardly fail to awaken generous response. The consequence of any such action on our part is apparent, reinforced, moreover, by an alternative which in contradiction to the Monroe Doctrine would ask us to countenance a transfer of sovereignty upon the American Continent for the benefit of a European Power hitherto deprived of such possession.
Without going to the length of such extreme conclusions, a third and more likely possibility would be that of a contest long drawn out between the two countries wherein neither could obtain decisive advantage. In spite of the paper proof that a lengthy war presents to-day an economic impossibility, there is no practical evidence to substantiate this theory, and there are distinguished economists who believe that the modern system of credit is peculiarly adapted to facilitate the prolongation of war. When poor countries, like Japan and Russia, have been able to maintain in the field for a considerable duration armies of almost unprecedented size, there is no reason to suppose that the pinch of poverty alone would materially hasten the conclusion of a war between England and Germany. The financial aspect of this is also likely to concern us. If the struggle should be protracted, extensive borrowing will have to be undertaken, and New York is more and more becoming one of the money markets of the world. It is probable that we will be called upon, possibly by both sides, to furnish pecuniary assistance, even though the obligations of strict neutrality are somewhat questionable on this point.
The extended duration of the war may be expected from the policy Germany would presumably adopt in attempting to tire out the vigilance of a British blockading fleet by long-continued inaction, while perhaps striking isolated blows in distant waters. The recent construction in Germany of large battle cruisers, capable of holding the seas, point to the inference that in the event of war hostilities would not remain confined to the vicinity of home ports. It would not be impossible if, as in the eighteenth century, sea-fights might again take place in American waters. The capture of one of the Lesser Antilles from the English or French might offer to the Germans both a convenient haven and a pledge for subsequent negotiations. Our own attitude in this event would be one of no little difficulty. Logically, a policy of strict neutrality should cause us to remain, if not indifferent, at least passive, but it is questionable if any American Government could long tolerate the embarrassment caused by the extended continuance of hostilities in our waters, even though it led to no more regrettable nor permanent result.
If this remains a remote though possible contingency, it is otherwise with the effect of a great struggle upon our economic interests. As all industry in the belligerent nations would be brought to a virtual standstill, it is likely that while American manufactured exports in Europe suffered there would be a greatly increased demand for foodstuffs as well as for whatever might be of utility in the conduct of war. Such commercial losses as in Europe we should experience could be more than counterbalanced by the opportunity presented elsewhere to acquire new markets and supplant former rivals. This would give an unwonted impetus to trade. Our commerce should find before it in Latin-America, South Africa, Australia, and the Far East, new outlets and new opportunities as the consequence of such a struggle.
Without a merchant marine under our flag we would not, however, be in a position to derive adequate benefit from this situation. The export of American products would be rendered increasingly difficult by the few remaining neutral bottoms with the consequent increase in freight rates. The creation of our own merchant navy thus becomes a primary necessity, whether affected by postal subventions, direct subsidies, or the admission of foreign-built ships. The sad anomaly of the present position in this respect can hardly be overstated, and until we take steps to remedy the deficiency of existing navigation laws, all our efforts to win new markets will be severely handicapped. Pride is often the forerunner of real interest, and while it is only the former that suffers to-day by the absence of the American flag on the high seas, a European war, with its wide ramifications and consequences, would soon awaken us to realizing the shortcomings of our present policy. Under existing conditions it is not difficult to picture American factories and workmen reduced to idleness because a foreign war had brought about a virtual cessation of ocean transport.
Even more important than the creation of an American merchant marine is that at a time of uncertainty like the present, with the future still befogged, no efforts be spared to maintain our relative naval strength. Already we have fallen from the second place which, for a decade, we had occupied, and without greater exertion are likely to sink still further in the scale. The recent decision of Congress to curtail the program of naval construction could not have been less auspiciously chosen in its moment. For us to desist from a normal development, which hardly aims to do more than replace timeworn unities when all the nations of the world, great and small, are arming, is to court a disaster and to lay us open to the consequences of such imprudence. The apostles of any one-sided disarmament at a time like the present are blindly working to expose their country to a disgraceful war or a yet more disgraceful humiliation. In the event of a European conflagration our fleet, even if maintained at its present relative strength, might find difficulty in accomplishing its double task of preserving the status quo in the Far East, and enforcing the neutrality of the Caribbean, where the presence of hostilities would certainly embarrass and possibly endanger American interests. The preservation of the Pax Americana as a corollary to the Monroe Doctrine should be our goal at all times. We have everything to gain by the peaceful and orderly evolution of existing conditions on our hemisphere and nothing by sudden or violent changes, even where our interests do not appear to be immediately affected. Hence any attempt to make of American waters the scene of war would be extremely distasteful to our policy.
The question of neutrality of the Caribbean might even be broached by diplomatic channels in time of peace. To Great Britain and France it would in all likelihood be welcome, as ridding them of solicitude in respect to islands difficult of defense, and where their sole ambition is to maintain but not to extend. Nor could Germany, possessing no territorial interests in these seas, avow pretensions which would place her in opposition to us. An international agreement having this purpose in view would thus contribute toward guaranteeing a stability of present possession, keeping the peace in the event of a European conflict and removing the likelihood of possible future changes of title embarrassing to the strategic and political position we occupy there. The alternative of a German victory, with the acquisition of a base of operations or even of territorial advantages, close to Central America, where Germans already possess great interests, and commanding the approaches to Panama, could not leave us indifferent to the future of such a prospect. An Anglo-German conflict would thus affect us at various points and in various ways. There is hardly a branch of our national activity, governmental or economic, which would not feel its consequences in varying degree or be concerned by its outcome. While our attitude in such contest would in the beginning be one of strict neutrality, which we would endeavor to maintain, this does not mean that a farsighted policy might not under certain contingencies impose a different course of action. However considerable the responsibility incurred, however great the bait offered, it would not be wise statesmanship to remain passive if England should by any series of disasters be crushed. Even though the immediate consequence would be to throw Canada and the British Antilles into our lap, it would leave us confronted by an Empire supreme on land and sea, and would force us to pursue a preparation of armaments which for our own preservation could not be inferior to what we might be called upon to face. Without the knowledge of the country at large, the European balance of power is a political necessity which can alone sanction the continuance of an economic development unhandicapped by the burden of extensive armaments. At no time, even unknown to us, were European politics a matter of indifference to our vital interests, but if hitherto we were impotent to alter their march, a fortunate destiny preserved the existing balance independently of us.
Seeking, as little as in the past, any selfish benefit in the Old World, even though it were possible, we have to-day a distinct and legitimate duty in the family of great nations in contributing to preserve those elements which compose the balance of power, and to which we can only be blind at our later cost. The disappearance or diminution of any one State in Europe would be a calamity to us, varying with its degree. But while the importance of such extinction might not in certain instances be sufficiently close to warrant or provoke our active intervention, this would not be true with Great Britain. The disintegration of the British Empire would be a defeat for us by the erection of a Power supreme on land and sea. A German historian of reputation. Professor Oncken, of Heidelberg, has lately, with reason, expounded the view that in 1864, in the war over the Duchies, England was unconsciously defeated. "Had Schleswig-Holstein remained Danish, the right bank of the Elbe up to the gates of Hamburg not been German territory, and the Canal from the Baltic to the North Sea an impossibility, all the conditions of Germany's maritime position would have been nonexistent." French historians have similarly traced the beginnings of their disasters in 1870 to their noninterference in the affair of the Duchies. The lesson of how a failure to act later reacts should not be lost upon us.
To consider the possible contingency of such intervention by us as tantamount to an alliance with Great Britain would be untrue. Where there is no treaty there is no alliance. We do not keep England from war nor push her toward a conflict. In the event of hostilities the assertion of our neutrality would at once be made and strictly lived up to. If Germany and England choose to indulge in the luxury of war, such is their right. However much we may lament the loss of life, it is no affair of ours even though England were defeated, so long as the general balance is preserved. But if ever decisive results are about to be registered of a nature calculated to upset what has for centuries been the recognized political fabric of Europe, we can remain indifferent thereto only at our own eventual cost. If we then neglect to observe that the interests of the nations crushed are likewise our own, we shall be guilty of political blindness which we will later rue. To guard against this danger our diplomatic role in Europe should be far more active than in the past. Properly understood and carried out by skillful agents, it would be one which, instead of being resented, should entitle us to the gratitude of all lovers of peace, since it would be apparent that without selfish designs of our own we aimed to preserve the rights of all.
It is mistaking the nature of diplomacy to think that this would involve us in entanglements wherein we had no concern. But it is likewise mistaking its scope for national utility to accord by an attitude of indifferent passivity a free field to the forceful ambition of any single State. Great Britain, by upholding the European balance of power, has contributed toward our free development. If misfortune in arms await her, it would be as politically unwise as it would be un-generous to allow her to suffer unduly. A disastrous defeat inflicted by an opponent unwilling to use moderation in his victory should invite on our part a friendly mediation which in last extremity might have to be converted into more effective measures. Hence the advisability for us of preserving our strength in such a way as ever to make our counsel welcome and our action unnecessary.