[2] Twenty per cent. of the population receive 47.2 per cent. of national income and the remaining eighty per cent. of the population 52.8 per cent. of the national income.--King, _op. cit._, p. 235.

[3] From 1880 to 1910 the total wages (and salaries) paid in the United States increased from 3.8 to 14.3 thousands of millions of dollars; the average wage increased from $323 to $507; the increase in the annual wages, taking into account differences in the cost of living, was 64 per cent. For basis of these calculations see King.

[4] William James. The Moral Equivalent of War. In "Memories and Studies." New York. Longmans, Green & Co. 1912.

[5] Sumner (William Graham). "War and Other Essays," New Haven (Yale University Press), 1913, p. 29.

[6] "In 1800 Captain Bainbridge, arriving at Algiers with the usual tribute, was ordered to carry dispatches to Constantinople. 'You pay me tribute,' explained the Dey, 'by which you become my slaves, and therefore I have a right to order you as I think proper.'"--Fish.

(Carl Russell.) "American Diplomacy," New York (1915), p. 141.

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CHAPTER XV

AMERICAN INTERESTS ABROAD

No nation in its foreign policy is completely disinterested, in the sense that it willingly abandons or sacrifices its larger interests.

What generosity it displays is usually in smaller matters, like a rich man's gift to a beggar. England may sacrifice interests in Jamaica to uphold the principle of human freedom, while at the same time fighting China to force the admission of opium. Similarly the United States may generously return money to j.a.pan (as in the Shimonoseki case) or to China, or relieve the sufferers of Messina or of Belgium. In really vital matters, however, nations are not self-sacrificing, but tenaciously pursue their own interests.

There are two senses, however, in which a nation may be disinterested in its foreign policy. Either it may possess no interest or its separate interest may be so small in relation to its larger interests elsewhere that it is willing to make a sacrifice. If, for example, the present war ended in a deadlock and the two groups of powers, unwilling to trust each other, were to confide Constantinople and the straits to the keeping of the United States, it would be almost unthinkable that we should be false to the trust. We should have no interest in favouring one group of nations as against the other; we should have no political axe to grind and no economic or territorial gains to make.

We should be fair and disinterested because we had no interest.

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Our recent att.i.tude toward Cuba, the Philippines and Mexico has been relatively disinterested in the second sense. We might have made money by exploiting these countries. We could have held Cuba; we might have imported a million Chinese into the Philippine Islands and grown rich on their toil, while in Mexico, where we already had invested a large capital which was menaced and in part destroyed by the revolution, we could have taken what we wanted and held what we took. Certain motives of decency prevented us from following this ruthless course; our self-satisfaction was worth more to us than a few hundred million dollars. The important fact, however, was that we were not pressed for this wealth. We were not compelled by poverty or pressure of population to grab what we could. We were able to seek a larger interest, to lay the basis of a slower but surer prosperity and to gain the good will, if not of Cubans, Filipinos and Mexicans, at least of the nations generally. In the long run it was a policy that will pay, and our conditions are such that we can still afford to consider the long run.

But although we have been occasionally disinterested or have shown at least a chemical trace of disinterestedness, our foreign policy has usually pursued concrete national aims. It has been a conservative, relatively uneventful policy, consisting for the most part in a quiet, unhurried advancement of our interests, with a not excessive consideration for the opinions of other nations. We have been cautious though persistent. We have avoided forcing quarrels upon powerful nations until we had grown irresistible. Usually we obtained the large thing, but where we could obtain it only by fighting formidable opponents, we compromised. When as in 1861 we found ourselves in a dangerous position, we endured aggression by France and Spain until we were again free {203} to compel redress. Time worked for us, the pa.s.sing years were our allies and we could afford to move slow. But we moved always in one direction--toward our perceived national interest.

The issue, therefore, is not whether we shall sacrifice our national interests, but whether in our foreign policy we shall pursue ultimate, or at least relatively permanent, interests in a large way or seek immediate, smaller gains. It is a choice similar to that which a great store makes when it sells standard goods at a fixed price instead of seeking immediate advantage by petty cheatings and interminable and mult.i.tudinous hagglings. As nations advance towards power, stability and security, they are enabled to base their programmes increasingly on long time views and, ceasing to be interested in small advantages, to seek their larger interests in a policy of tolerance and seeming magnanimity. It was to England's real interest to be scrupulously fair in peace time toward weaker naval nations; it was equally to her larger interest to open her dependencies to the trade of the world and to accord political rights to her lately conquered Dutch subjects in South Africa. A tighter and harder policy would have been short-sighted.

Even had it gained immediate advantages, it might have left England in a day of adversity with the great powers ranged against her.

The choice between immediate and ultimate interest in foreign policy presents itself daily. We could, for example, simply take the Danish West Indies, instead of paying for them, and doubtless might secure ourselves against a future retaliation by the great powers. Such an adventure, however, to say nothing of its ethics, would be monstrously stupid. Or, while the European nations are looking elsewhere, we might "go" into Mexico and keep {204} what we wanted. We have a better excuse than in 1846 and an equally safe opportunity. We should be richer to-morrow if we took Mexico, but would it pay in the end? Would such a conquest accord with our larger policies and our true ambitions in the world?

It is in this light that we should view the problem of our foreign policy as it shapes itself to-day. We must preserve certain national interests, material and spiritual. We must ward off certain dangers, securing ourselves as other nations secure themselves. But for better or worse, we have become a world power and a world influence, and what we do outside, as well as within, our borders, must affect the decisions and actions of other nations. If our ideal is not aggrandis.e.m.e.nt or empire but an equal fellowship with other great nations, if we desire to contribute to the progress of international development and not merely get all we can in the scramble, how shall we shape our foreign policy? On what broad general principle shall we decide the urgent questions which arise day by day in most unexpected conjunctions?

The answer to these questions is not easy; there is not even an agreement as to what our interests are. What, after all, do the hundred million Americans want beyond their borders? What are we willing to fight for rather than forego? What do we already have or claim, the retention of which would justify us in fighting?

How we shall answer this depends upon our temperament and our special interests. Certain Americans would advise us to fight all Europe, rather than recede from an action already determined upon or acknowledge that American policy is conditioned by the will of foreigners. One need not argue against such convictions. It is the current, instinctive philosophy of "My country right or wrong, wise or foolish; my country against the world." To fight {205} all Europe, however, is not to fight at all, but merely to be a.s.sa.s.sinated. To act as though Europe had no rights which America needs respect is to adopt a principle profoundly hostile to our own welfare.

To a financier, whose interests in Mexico, Guatemala or Indo-China are attacked, war seems preferable to a neglect of those interests. He would not put the matter so crudely; he would say that he preferred defeat or even disaster to a peace dictated by fear. What would lead him to this patriotic conclusion, however, would be the conviction that to do nothing would lose him his property, whereas even a disastrous war would cost him only his share in the national loss. And the war might be gained or even avoided, if only the United States were bold enough. He would, therefore, define our national interests as including all those things to which we in our good judgment believed that we had some claim.

Those with no special interest in foreign investments are less solicitous. A default on the bonds of Mexican railways is less costly to the Iowa farmer or Boston stonemason than the contraction of debts for the purpose of pacifying Mexico. To fight England or Germany seems more costly to the average American than to forego extra opportunities for making money in China or the Argentine. Even the farmer or stonemason, however, feels that the United States has certain interests and rights abroad. Our citizens should have the right to travel freely upon the high seas and in foreign countries and to enjoy privileges and immunities granted to citizens of other nations. We should have equal access with other nations to the sources of raw materials and to world markets, subject to the reserved right of each nation, including the United States, to levy customs duties for the protection of its own industries. Finally we should enjoy the right of {206} investing our capital and conducting our businesses abroad under the equal protection of the laws of the particular country.

All this is of course vague. It does not determine what protection we should a.s.sure ourselves in a country whose government is corrupt or unstable, nor does it consider the contingency of a weak nation, granting under duress more favourable conditions to some other foreign nation than to us.

While however we cannot arrive at any final decision as to the details of our foreign policy, we can at least formulate in general terms certain principles which we may seek to apply. The most vital of these principles is equal opportunity for all nations, and no special advantage for ourselves or others.

In accepting such a principle the United States would be merely applying to a territory, over which it held a dominant influence, a policy which, if universally applied by all the Great Powers, would immensely reduce the area of international friction. To apply such a principle in good faith is the first and most obvious contribution that we can make to economic internationalism. We cannot in reason demand the open door in Asia or in Europe's colonies if in our own colonies and in other lands where we are paramount, we adopt a contrary policy.

We can afford to concede this principle of equal opportunity because of our resources at home and the large share of trade and investment opportunities which will come to us without special favours. What we might get above that is not worth the risk. A policy of taking all we can get, whether other nations suffer or not, is, apart from all other considerations, injudicious.

Such a policy of aggression might be cloaked for instance under the Monroe Doctrine, a vague tenet, capable {207} of contraction or infinite expansion. If we allow our speculators to determine its meaning, we shall in due course interpret the doctrine as the right of the United States to control South America politically and exploit it industrially. The downward path to such an interpretation is easy. To secure an inside track in Latin America we need only look askance upon concessions to Europeans and with benevolence upon concessions to Americans. We can place obstacles in the way of foreign corporations recovering damages for injuries suffered, while we aid American companies to secure redress. We can make our ministers to Latin America "business agents" of exporters and big banking concerns. Such a policy would mean economic and eventually political control, the much feared _conquista pacifica_.

If we embark upon such a policy we shall earn the hatred both of Europe and of Latin America. Hitherto the Monroe Doctrine has been safe from serious attack by Europe because England with her preponderant sea-power has been commercially the chief benefactor, and the other nations believed that, for the time being at least, South America was held open for joint exploitation. Moreover, Europe had nearer problems in the disposition of Balkan territory and in the part.i.tion of Africa and sections of Asia. So long as European nations were not ready to divide up Latin America, or so long as they believed that it would remain independent and thus open to the commerce of all, the temptation to fight for a slice of the great continent, though alluring, was not sufficiently powerful to overcome the sense of the peril of such an undertaking. For Germany to seek to conquer a part of Brazil would have been to add all the American nations to her already long list of enemies. But this tolerance of the Monroe Doctrine is conditioned upon our playing {208} the part of a guardian and not of a conqueror. We can neither monopolise Latin America industrially nor rule it politically (which might involve the same result) without trenching upon the common patrimony of Europe. To secure the inside track means therefore either to fight all Europe, which is impossible, or to share the booty with one or two allied powers, like England and France, and thus to enter into all the complications and dangers of European politics. A Pan-Americanism of this sort would involve us in the next Balkan imbroglio or the next quarrel over the Persian Gulf, and our peace would be at the mercy of any little monarch who struck the first blow at one of our allies.

In Latin America itself such a policy of aggression by the United States is already feared and resented.[1] The people to the south of us do not take our professions of disinterestedness with the simple faith of little children, but see in us a virile, formidable, unconsciously imperialistic nation, which has already benefited by its guardianship and hopes to benefit still more. They fear the colour prejudice in the United States and a certain unreasoning contempt for Latin-American civilisation might lead us impatiently to set aside their rights if they conflicted with our own interests. The Latin Americans already speak of a "North American Peril." They remember Texas, {209} Panama, Porto Rico. Indeed, they recognise that the United States, in despite of itself, may be forced to expand southwards. "It is more than probable," writes the Mexican sociologist, F. Bulnes, "that by 1980 the United States will hold a population of 250,000,000 inhabitants. They will then scarcely be sufficient for the needs of this population, and will no longer be able to supply the world with the vast quant.i.ty of cereals which they supply to-day. They will therefore have to choose between a recourse to the methods of intensive culture and the conquest of the extra-tropical lands of Latin America, which are fitted, by their conditions, to the easy and inexpensive production of cereals."[2]

There is a nearer danger. "Sometimes," writes Garcia Calderon, "this North American influence becomes a monopoly, and the United States takes possession of the markets of the South. They aim at making a trust of the South American republics, the supreme dream of their multi-millionaire _conquistadors_."[3] Thus to shut off Latin America, as Spain once did, would, however, injure the Southern republics and create an antagonism that would find its expression in armed resistance. Nor would this resistance be entirely negligible. A century ago, Latin America had a population of fifteen millions; to-day its population is eighty millions and is rapidly increasing. As an ally to European nations, opposed to aggression by the United States, a Latin-American country or group of countries might well exert a decisive influence.

Ill defined and vague, capable of being indefinitely expanded by all sorts of sudden interpretations, the Monroe {210} Doctrine is to-day a peril to Latin America and to ourselves. It is likely to become even more dangerous if turned over to an American plutocracy for its elucidation. If on the other hand, we restrict our policy to the protection of the interests of Latin Americans, Europeans and ourselves, we shall not only be safe-guarding our own peace, but shall be removing a future coveted area from the field of international strife. To adopt such a policy, however, means that we must be better informed and more concrete. It is absurd to lump together all Latin-American countries, as though all were equally advanced in civilisation. To compare the Argentine with San Domingo is to discover differences almost as great as between Holland and Abyssinia. Mexico is far more significant to us politically, economically and in a military sense than Brazil or Chile. Into the question of Panama, Haiti and the West Indian Islands generally, elements enter that are absent from our relations with Venezuela or Ecuador. Our policy towards these countries need not be identical. We should have a Mexican policy, a separate policy for the West Indian Islands, another policy for the Caribbean States, and an individual policy for each South American state. Our interests and obligations differ in these states. We cannot pretend to the same vital interest in the internal peace of Argentina as in that of our next door neighbour. We cannot cover these diverse conditions with the blanket of one vague doctrine.

In our relations to Latin America, moreover, we should not grasp at political sovereignty, if the reasonable economic interests of the world can in any way be secured without political incorporation. We are gradually being forced into a policy of acquiring dominion over certain Caribbean countries. We have a financial guardianship in Haiti and San Domingo; we have "taken" Panama, {211} and it probably needs only a little disorder to give us a quasi-protectorate over other small countries in the same neighbourhood. The United States, however, is on the whole still averse from such interference, wherever avoidable. We have kept faith with Cuba and there is strong opposition to acquiring Mexico, despite the agitation of financiers and instinctive border-line patriots. The problem is not easy, for a measure of peace in these neighbouring states is not only essential to us but is demanded by Europe (who will interfere if we do not) and peace may eventually require intervention. In countries like Haiti, which show at present an invincible distaste for orderly government, abstention is almost impossible.

The chief danger in our relations with certain Latin-American countries lies in this political instability and unripeness that makes property and life unsafe and the administration of justice notoriously corrupt.

The result is extortion, bribery and violence clothed in legal form.

Investors and creditors plead for intervention to enforce contracts, sometimes of doubtful validity, sometimes obviously dishonest. To meet the problems arising from such claims, we should have more information.

Our Bureau of Foreign Commerce should ask for data concerning American investments abroad and especially in Latin America. Such information, supplied in the first instance by the corporations, should be verified by official investigations. There should be full publicity. Our consular representatives should not seek to secure special privileges or business orders, and our governmental influence should guarantee equal economic opportunities to all nations. No claim by Americans should be enforced until it has been reported upon favourably by a court of arbitration composed of representatives of nations with no interest in the controversy.

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Whether the United States should seek the aid of England or of some other European power in the maintenance of the Monroe Doctrine or should endeavour to internationalise the doctrine by gaining the adhesion of all nations, or should support the doctrine with the aid of the Latin-American countries alone is a question the answer to which will depend upon the future att.i.tude of European nations, and especially upon the relation of the United States to those nations.

The difficulty of securing an international guarantee lies in the necessary vagueness of the doctrine. In the present state of mind concerning international guarantees, there is perhaps more immediate advantage in a special guardianship by the United States, the Argentine, Brazil and Chile, especially as in the case of an a.s.sault upon the doctrine by one or more European powers, the a.s.sistance of other European nations could probably be obtained. The important consideration at present is that the strength of the doctrine will be in direct proportion to the disinterestedness of the United States.

The more clearly the doctrine can be made to serve the common interests of the world instead of the special interests of a single country, the more likely is it to secure the support in any crisis of a group of nations possessing a preponderance of world power.

Our relations with Canada present fewer temptations. Our policy should look towards the creation of friendly relations and a nearer economic union, but neither immediately nor ultimately towards a forced annexation. A willing political incorporation of Canada into the United States might be excellent, but an annexation against the opposition of the Canadian people would be a crime and blunder. It would mean an American Alsace-Lorraine upon an immense scale.

Economically Canada and the United States are rapidly becoming one.

With exports to {213} Canada already more than twice as great as those of all other nations (including Great Britain) we can at will draw upon her immense agricultural and mineral resources by the simple expedient of letting down our tariff wall. We can invest there as safely as Britisher or Canadian, and can benefit by Canada (as Canada benefits by us) as though she were a part of the United States. A growth of the eight million Canadians to twenty or more millions will mean for us an enhanced prosperity. Despite absurd prejudices on both sides of the border the economic union grows stronger.[4]

If we do not strive for an inside track in Latin America nor for the conquest of Canada, should we be willing to fight for the "open door"

in China, for equal privileges in all parts of that Empire?

The phrase the "open door" has a pleasing sound. There can be no doubt that the opening up of China's ports to commerce with all nations on equal terms would be of immediate advantage to us, and probably to China herself. Our interest in the matter, however, is frankly selfish. Though we have a kindly feeling for the Chinese, so long as they stay in China, our "open door" policy is intended in the first instance to benefit our own merchants and investors. The alternative to the open door is to {214} permit other nations to divide up China, a proceeding in which we do not care to take part, and to exclude us from certain trade and investment opportunities.

It is doubtful whether these chances which we should lose by an unaggressive policy, are sufficiently important to justify us in entering upon a conflict with j.a.pan or with j.a.pan and Russia.[5] Our losses would be less than is imagined, for whoever opens up China will be compelled to admit other industrial nations upon reasonable terms.

j.a.pan cannot finance herself, to say nothing of financing China, and the nations, called upon to supply capital, would necessarily be consulted in essential political and economic arrangements. Even if j.a.pan secured a relatively excessive share of the commerce, it would mean a diversion of other trade, which she formerly possessed, since her own factories would be busy. In the end, we could afford to permit other nations to take upon themselves the burden of policing China, in view of the fact that while our {215} own profits might be less our expenses also would be less.

A deeper problem, however, is involved in this question of China. Just as by the Monroe Doctrine we seek to prevent European powers from conquering, colonising and dividing up America, so in China, our interest, apart from a share of the trade and investment chances, lies in contributing to the world's peace by removing that vast territory from the field of international political compet.i.tion. What we should mean by "the open door" in China is the integrity of that country and its immunity from conquest, part.i.tion and forced exploitation. The plea of an "open door," as a mere tariff policy, comes with ill grace from us, who have closed the door both in Porto Rico and at home, but China's integrity is an issue of a different character.[6] It is important to us not so much for immediate economic reasons as because it is likely to promote peace. It is a world, rather than a national, interest.

Because it is a world-interest, it should be secured by the efforts of many nations and not by the United States alone. {216} In principle, therefore, the Six-Power Loan, which in a sense was a joint guarantee, was a step in the right direction. That its specific terms were unreasonable and that the loan was in a degree forced were perhaps sufficient reasons for our withdrawal from the arrangement. Along somewhat similar lines, however, the early development of China should proceed, and it is to our interest to promote any plan that will prevent China from being the bone of contention among the belligerent nations of Europe.[7]

Our relations to Latin America, Canada and China are perhaps the most immediate of our foreign concerns. These are the lands in which we have the greatest stake and the greatest temptation to pursue an imperialistic policy. The real power in this world, however, lies in Europe. It is Europe that decides the fate of Asia, Africa, Australia, and may in the end decide that of South America. It is from Europe that the fear of war arises, and it is in our dealings with Europe, and in the dealings of European nations with one another, that the hope of peace and of progress in international development must centre.

[1] For a view of Latin America's fear of aggression by the United States, see such books as "El Imperialismo Norte-Americano," by F.

Caraballo Sotolongo, Havana, 1914, and America Latina ante el peliogro, by Salvador K. Merlos, San Jose (Costa Rica), 1914. Both of these books are shrill and somewhat uncritical but they fairly represent a large body of Latin-American thought. There is usually a division of opinion as to whether the United States is to attain its ends by military or by financial means. "It is not _manu militari_," writes a French author, "that Brother Jonathan intends to carve out his place in the sun, but by the force of dollars."--"L'imperialisme allemand," by Maurice Lair, Paris, 1914.