POLITICS AMONG NATIONS POLITICS among NATIONS THE STRUGGLE FOR POWER AND PEACE hy Hans /. Mmgenthau ASSOCIATE PB.OFESSOK. OF POLITICAL SCIENCE THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO NEIV YORK ; : ALFRED A. KNOPF Copyright 1^48 by Alfred A. Knopf, Tnc, All rights reserved. No part of this boo\ in excess of five hundred words may be reproduced in any form without pernfisdon in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or in the United States of America. ’Published in Cana^ McClelland & Stewart Limited. PUBLISHED October ii, 1948 J ^ o tin hi IkStARCK T949 / TO the memory of my father FOREWORD This book developed from lectures in international politics which I have given at the University of Chicago since 1943. Though it covers the tradi- tional subject matter of courses in international relations, special emphasis is placed on basic problems of international law, international organization, and diplomatic history, I owe a great debt of gratitude to my students. Their lively class discus- sions contributed to the clarification of my own thinking on the problems discussed in this book. Among my students who rendered special services to make this book possible I must mention a few. Miss Mary Jane Beneditz made a stenographic transcript of the lectures given in the Winter Quarter of 1946 as well as of the class discussions. Her intelligent and painstaking labor made available the only written record of those lectures; without that record the book could not have been completed in little more than a year. Mr. Alfred Hotz assisted me ably in the research in the initial stages of the work. The main burden of assistance, however, fell upon Mr. Kenneth W. Thompson, who brought to his task an extraordinary measure of ability and devotion. The original versions of the maps were drafted by Mr. Charles R. Jones and those of the diagrams were drawn by Mr. John Horton. I am deeply grateful to Professor Leonard D. White who, as administra- tive head of the Political Science Department of the University of Chicago, gave me every possible assistance; his understanding greatly facilitated my work. Professors Waldemar Gurian of the University of Notre Dame and Edward A. Shils of the University of Chicago and the London School of Eco- nomics and Political Science read the manuscript and gave me the benefit of their advice and criticism. Many of my colleagues advised me on special points. For whatever merit there is in the title of this book, Professor Charles M. Hardin must take all the credit since I chose it upon his suggestion. The Social Science Research Committee of the University of Chicago contributed generous financial support to the work and a long succession of members of the clerical staff of the Social Science Research Committee rendered compe- tent assistance. I acknowledge the services of all with gratitude. The following publishers and publications have been kind enough to grant permission to incorporate in the book material published previously: American Journal of International Law, Columbia Law Review, Ethics, Re^ view of Politics, University of Chicago Press, and the Yale Law Journal. HANS J. MORGENTHAU Chicago, Illinois CONTENTS PART ONE INTERNATIONAL POLITICS: A DUAL APPROACH 1, UNDERSTANDING INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 3 2 , UNDERSTANDING THE PROBLEM OF INTERNATIONAL PEACE 7 PART TWO INTERNATIONAL POLITICS AS A STRUGGLE FOR POWER I • Political Power 1. WHAT IS POLITICAL POWER? 2 . THE DEPRECIATION OF POLITICAL POWER 3. TWO ROOTS OF THE DEPKEaATION OF POLITICAL POWER II • The Struggle for Power: Policy of the Status Quo III • The Struggle for Power: Imperialism 1. WHAT IMPERIALISM IS NOT 2 . ECONOMIC THEORIES OF IMPERIALISM a) The Marxian, Liberal, and "Devil” Theories of Imperialism b) Criddsm of these Theories 3. DIFFERENT TYPES OF IMPERIALISM a) Three Inducements to Imperialism b) Three Goals of Imperialism c) Three Methods of Imperialism Military Imperialism Economic Imperialism Cultural Imperialism 4. HOW TO DETECT AND COUNTER AN IMPERIALISTIC POLICY a) Appeasement b) Fear c) Five DMculties of the Problem Vf * The Struggle for Power: Policy of Prestige 1. DIPLOMATIC CEREMONIAL 2 . DISPLAY OF MILITARY FORCE 3. TWO OBJECTIVES OF THE POLICY OF PRESTIGE 4. TWO CORRUPTIONS OF,, THE POLICY OF PRESTIGE 13 13 15 18 21 26 26 29 29 31 34 34 36 38 38 39 40 43 43 45 46 50 51 54 55 58 (ix) Contents V • Ideological Element in International Policies 6i I. THE NATURE OF POLITICAL IDEOLOGIES 6l 2 * TYPICAL IDEOLOGIES OF INTERNATIONAL POLICIES 63 a) Ideologies of the Status Quo 53 b) Ideologies of Imperialism 64 c) Ambiguous Ideologies 67 3. THE PROBLEM OF RECOGNITION 68 PART THREE NATIONAL POWER VI - The Essence of National Power I. WHAT IS NATIONAL POWER? ^3 ROOTS OP MODERN NATIONALISM 76 vn • Elements of National Power 8o 1. GEOGRAPHY 80 2 . NATXmAL RESOURCES 82 3 * INDUSTRIAL CAPACITY 86 4. MILITARY PREPAREDNESS 88 5. POPULATION 91 6. NATIONAL CHARACTER 96 7. NATIONAL MORALE 100 8. THE QUALITY OF DIPLOMACY IO5 VIII • Evaluation of National Power 109 1. THE TASK OF EVALUATION IO9 2 . TYPICAL ERRORS OF EVALUATION 1 12 a) The Absolute Character of Power 1 12 b) The Permanent Character of Power c) The Fallacy of the Single Factor 1 16 Geopolitics xi 6 Nationalism 118 Militarism 120 PART FOUR LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER; THE BALANCE OF POWER IS. • The Balance of Power 125 1. SOCIAL EQUILIBMttM . ^ I25 2 . TWO MAIN P 0 WER I29 Contents X • Different Methods of the Balance of Power 134 1. DIVIPE AND RULE I34 2 . COMPENSATIONS 135 3. ARMAMENTS I36 4. ALLIANCES "137 a) Alliances vs. World Domination 137 b) Alliances vs. Counteralliances 138 5. THE ‘‘holder” of THE BALANCE I42 XI * The Structure of the Balance of Power 146 1. DOMINANT AND DEPENDENT SYSTEMS I46 2 . STRUCTURAL CHANGES IN THE BALANCE OF POWER I48 XII • Evaluation of the Balance of Power 150 1. THE UNCERTAINTY OF THE BALANCE OF POWER I5I 2 . THE UNREALITY OF THE BALANCE OF POWER 155 a) The Balance of Power as Ideology 15^ 3. THE INADEQUACY OF THE BALANCE OF POWER I59 a) Restraining Influence of a Moral Consensus 160 b) Moral Consensus of the Modern State System 162 PART FIVE LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER: INTERNATIONAL MORALITY AND WORLD PUBLIC OPINION XIII • Ethics, Mores, and Law as Restraints on Power 169 XIV • International Morality 1. THE PROTECTION OF HUMAN LIFE a) Protection of Human Life in Peace b) Protection of Human Life in War c) Moral Condemnation of War d) International Morality and Total War 2 . UNIVERSAL MORALITY VS. NATIONALISTIC UNIVERSALISM a) Personal Ethics of the Aristocratic International b) Destruction of International Morality c) Destruction of International Society d) Victory of Nationalism over Internationalism e) Transformation of Nationalism XV • World Public Opinion 1. PSYCHOLOGICAL UNITY OF THE WORLD 2 . AMBIGUITY OF TECHNOLOGICAL UNIFICATION m 175 175 178 180 181 184 184 187 189 191 192 197 199 200 3. THE BARRIER OF NATIONALISM 202 Contents PART SIX LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER: INTERNATIONAL LAW XVI • The Main Problems of International Law 209 1. THE GENERAL NATURE OF INTERNATIONAL LAW 209 2 . THE LEGISLATIVE FUNCTION IN INTERNATIONAL LAW 21 1 a) Its Decentralized Character 21 1 b) The Problem of Codification 214 c) Interpretation and Binding Force 216 3. THE JUDICIAL FUNCTION IN INTERNATIONAL LAW 219 a) Compulsory Jurisdiction 220 The Optional Clause 221 b) International Courts 224 c) The Effect of Judicial Decisions 226 4. THE ENFORCEMENT OF INTERNATIONAL LAW 228 a) Its Decentralized Character 228 b) Treaties of Guaranty 230 c) Collective Security 232 Article 16 of the Covenant of the League of Nations 232 Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations 236 The Veto 239 XVII • Sopereignty 243 1. THE GENERAL NATURE OF SOVEREIGNTY 243 2 . SYNONYMS OF SOVEREIGNTY: INDEPENDENCE, EQUALITY, UNANIMITY 245 3. WHAT SOVEREIGNTY IS NOT 247 4. HOW SOVEREIGNTY IS LOST 249 a) The United States Proposal for International Control of Atomic . Enorgy 252 b) Majority Vote in International Organizations 255 5. IS SOVEREIGNTY DIVISIBLE? 258 TART SEVEN WORLD POLITICS IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY xvin • The New Moral Force of Nationalistic Unii/ersalism 267 XIX • The New Balance of Power , 270 1. INFLEXIBILITY OF THE NEW B«ANCE OF POWER 270 2 . DISAPPEARANCE OF THE 273 ( xii ) Contents 3. DISAPPEARANCE OF THE COLONIAL FRONTIER 278 4. POTENTIALITIES OF THE TWO-BLOC SYSTEM 284 XX • Total War 287 1. WAR OF TOTAL POPULATIONS 289 2 . WAR BY TOTAL POPULATIONS * 292 3. WAR AGAINST TOTAL POPULATIONS 293 4. THE MECHANIZATION OF WARFARE 294 5. WAR FOR TOTAL STAKES 298 6. TOTAL MECHANIZATION, TOTAL WAR, AND TOTAL DOMINION 3OI PART EIGHT THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY: PEACE THROUGH LIMITATION XXI • Disarmament 309 1. THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN OUR TIME 309 2. HISTORY OF DISARMAMENT 3II 3. FOUR PROBLEMS OF DISARMAMENT 314 a) The Ratio ^14 The Rush-Bagot Agreement, the Washington Treaty, and the Anglo-German Naval Agreement ^15 The World Disarmament Conference and the United Nations Commissions yy b) Standards of Allocation 221 c) Does Disarmament Mean Reduction of Armaments? ^24 d) Does Disarmament Mean Peace? ^26 XXII • Security 331 1. COLLECTIVE SECURITY 331 a) The Italo-Ethiopian War ^36 2. AN INTERNATIONAL POLICE FORCE 337 XXIII • Judicial Settlement 341 1. THE NATURE OF THE JUDICIAL FUNCTION 34I 2. THE NATURE OF INTERNATIONAL CONFLICTS! TENSIONS AND DISPUTES 343 a) Pure Disputes 344 b) Disputes with the Substance of a Tension 34^ c) Disputes Representing a Tension 3^j 3. LIMITATIONS OF THE JUDICIAL FUNCTION 346 ( xiii ) K^uni^cnis XXIV • Peaceful Change 1. PEACEFUL CHANGE WITHIN THE STATE 2. PEACEFUL CHANGE IN INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS a) Article 19 of the Covenant of the League of Nations b) The Palestine Resolution of the General Assembly of the United Nations XXV • International Government 1. THE HOLY ALLIANCE a) History b) Government by the Great Powers c) Dual Meaning of the Status Quo d) Peace, Order, and the National Interest e) The Concert of Europe 2, THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS a) Organization b) Dual Meaning of the Status Quo: France vs. Great Britain c) Three Weaknesses of the League of Nations Constitutional Weakness Structural Weakness Political Weakness 3. THE UNITED NATIONS a) Government by Superpowers b) Undefined Principles of Justice c) The Undefined Status Quo: the Soviet Union vs. the United States Provisional Character of the Status Quo Instability of the Status Quo 350 35<> 353 355 356 361 361 361 363 363 3^ 367 368 369 371 373 374 375 377 379 383 384 385 PART NINE THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY: PEACE THROUGH TRANSFORMATION XXVI • The World State 1. CONDITIONS OF DOMESTIC PEACE a) Suprasectional Loyalties b) Expectation of Justice c) Overwhelming Power d) The Role of the State 2. THE PROBLEM OF THE WORLD STATE 3. TWO FALSE SOLUTIONS a) World Conquest b) The Examples of Switzerlaiibd and the United States ( xiv ) 391 392 392 394 395 396 398 402 403 404 Contents XXVII • The World Community 407 1. THE CULTURAL APPROACH: UNESCO 407 2 . THE FUNCTIONAL APPROACH! THE SPECIALIZED AGENCIES OF THE UNITED NATIONS 412 ?ART TEN THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY: PEACE THROUGH ACCOMMODATION XXVIII • Diplomacy 1. FOUR TASKS OF DIPLOMACY 2 . INSTRUMENTS OF DIPLOMACY a) Symbolic Representation b) Legal Representation c) Political Representation 3. THE DECLINE OF DIPLOMACY a) Development of Communications b) Depreciation of Diplomacy c) Diplomacy by Parliamentary Procedures d) The Superpowers: Newcomers in Diplomacy e) The Nature of Contemporary World Politics XXIX • The Future of Diplomacy 1. HOW CAN DIPLOMACY BE REVIVED? a) The Vice of Publicity b) The Vice of Majority Decision c) The Vice of Fragmentation 2. THE PROMISE OF DIPLOMACY: ITS EIGHT RULES a) Four Fundamental Rules b) Four Prerequisites of Compromise 3. CONCLUSION 419 419 421 423 423 425 425 426 427 428 430 431 431 431 433 435 438 439 441 Appendix. Charter of the United Nations Bibliography Tndex 449 473 follows page 489 MAPS The World 2 Uranium Deposits 85 Probable Population Increases in Next Two Decades 95 Mac\inder*s Geopolitical Map: The Natural Seats of Power 117 The Balance of Power in the Eighteenth Century 276 The Balance of Power in the Mid-Twentieth Century 277 Main Issues of World Politics 280 Main Issues of World Politics in the Mid-Twentieth Century 281 Colonial Areas 283 PART ONE INTERNATIONAL POLITICS: A DUAL APPROACH International Politics, A Dual Approach I. UNDERSTANDING INTERNATIONAL POLITICS The purpose of this book is twofold. The first is to detect and understand tKelorces which determine political relations among nations, and to compre- hend the ways in which those forces act upon each other and upon inter- national political relations and institutions. In most other branches of the social sciences there would be no need to emphasize this purpose. It would be taken for granted, because the natural purpose of all scientific undertak- ings is to discover the forces underlying social phenomena and how they operate. However, in approaching the study of international politics, such emphasis is not misplaced. As Professor Grayson Kirk has so ably said: Until recent times the study of international relations in the United States has been dominated largely by persons who have taken one of three approaches. First there have been the historians who have considered international relations inter-state rdations, but they have seldom made a serious effort to inquire into the fundamental reasons for the continuing incompleteness and inadequacy of this legal nexus, finally, there have been those who have been less concerned wiA internationanHadphs as t^han’'^n^^ perfect system wBch diese'ldealists wduld like to buily Only jrccendy*^ and belatedly —have^stu- per§i§tent forces .of WOdA pol mcs, and the institutions whi® not with a view to praise or an.effoj^io provide a better understanding of these basic drives deterjpjne .the^^foreign policies of states. Thu s the political sSEnffitTrinp^ the mternadonfl field at 1^.^ Professor Charles E. Martin has taken up Professor Kirk’s theme by point- ing to *‘the problem which faces the students and the teachers of international relations more than any other, namely, that dualism we have to face in mov- t of available data. \A seconc an adequate amount wr£Kave“^r6peflT*"^^ themselves primarily with the les^ aspects of of lyOMfU-tfesjuiterMUond law- 1 American Joumd of intemationd Law, XXXIX (1945)5 369--70. (3) tolitics among Nations ing in two different and opposite areas. I mean the area of institutions of peace which are related to the adjustment of disputes and the area of power politics and war. Yet, it must be so. There is no escape from it. ... I think probably one of the greatest indictments of our attitude in teaching in the last twenty years has been to write off glibly the institution of war and to write off the books the influence of power politics. I think political scientists make a great mistake in doing so. We should be the very ones who are study- ing power politics and its implications and the situations growing out of it, and we should be the ones who study the institution of war.” ^ Defined in such terms, international politics embraces more than recent history and current events. The observer is surrounded by the contemporary scene with its ever shifting emphasis and changing perspectives. He cannot find solid ground on which to stand, nor objective standards of evaluation, without getting down to fundamentals which are revealed only by the cor- relation of recent events with the more distant past. International politics cannot be reduced to legal rules and institutions. International politics operates within the framework of such rules and through the instrumentality of such institutions. But it is no more identical with them than American politics on the national level is identical with the American Constitution, the federal laws, and the agencies of the federal government. Concerning attempts to reform international politics before making an effort to understand what international politics is about, we share William Graham Sumner’s view: . The worst vice in political discussions is that dogmatism which takes its stand on great principles or assumptions, instead of standing on an exact ex- amination of things as they are and human nature as it is. . . . An ideal is formed of some higher or better state of things than now exists, and almost un- consciously the ideal is assumed as already existing and made the basis of specu- lations which have no root. * • . The whole method of abstract speculation on political topics is vicious. It is popular because it is e asy: it is easier to imagin e a new world. thm to learn to know this one; it is easier tolmb^ dons based on a few broad assumptions than it is to study dre histmy skates and institutions; it is easier to eaten up a popular gma than k is to analyze it to see whefer it is true or not. All this l^ds to eontusion, to the admission of ffcases mi platitudes, to mmiL disputing but little gain in the prosperity of nations.^ The inost’ferihMside difficulty fitcing a scientific inquiry into the nat ure and wavs qI: infe^^ is ambia^ the obs^er has tp deaL Th^ events which he must try to imderstand ske, on the bile hain d..tmiotig^^^^ T hbv happened m this way and never bdfore or sinc^. On the other hand, they are « manifestations of social forces. Social forc^ arc tne pr< ture in action. Therefore, under timilar conditioiis^ 2 Proceedings of the Eighth Conference qf Teachers of Internatidnat Li^ ahi §Aed jects (Washington: Carnegie Endowment for Fe^t, 19^46), p; ^6* ® “Democracy and Responsible Oovernment,** The Challenge of Facts dnd Other Essays (New Haven; Yale University Press, 1914), p|h 245-6, (4) International Politics: A Dual Approach selves in a similar manner. But w here is the line to be drav^n betwee n the siimlar_ancl the unique? We learn what the principles of international politics are from compari- sons between such events. A certain political situation evokes the formula- tion and execution of a certain foreign policy. Dealing with a different po- htical situation, we ask ourselves: How does this situation differ from the preceding one and how is it similar.^ Do the similarities reaflSbrm the policy developed previously? Or does the blending of similarities and differences allow the essence of that policy to be retained while, in some aspects, it is to be modified? Or do the differences vitiate the analogy altogether and make the previous policy inapplicable? If one wants to understand interna- tional politics, grasp the meaning of contemporary events, and foresee and influence the future, one must be able to perform the dual intellectual task implicit in these questions. One must be able to distinguish between thesini>_ lari, ties,,, and „ di ffcrences-iji Jam PurAermore, one must be able to assess the import of these similarities and differences for alternative foreign policies. Three series of events taken at random will illustrate the problem and its difficulties. 1. On September 17. 1706^ George Washington ma de a speech in which he bade farewell to the nation, outlining among other things the principles of American foreign policy. On Dec ember 2. 182^. Pre sident Monroe sent a message to Congress in which he, too, formulated the principles of Ameri- can foreign poHcy. In 1917, the United States joined France and Great Brit- ain against a nation which threatened the independence of both. In 1941, the United States followed a similar course of action. On March 12, 1947, President Truman, in a message to Congress, reformulated the principles of American foreign policy. 2. In 1512, Henry VIII made an alliance with the Hapsburgs against France. In 1515, he made an alliance with France against the Hapsburgs. In 1522 and 1542, he joined the Hapsburgs against France. In 1756, Great Brit- ain allied itself with Prussia against the Hapsburgs and France. In 1793, Great Britain, Prussia, and the Hapsburgs were allied against Napoleon. In 1914, Great Britain joined with France and Russia against Austria and Ger- many, and, in 1939, with France and Poland against Germany. 3. Napoleon, William II, and Hitler tried to conquer the continent of Europe and failed. Are there within each of these three series of events similarities which allow us to formulate a principle of foreign policy for each series? Or is each event so different from the others in the series that each would require a dif- ferent policy? The difficulty in making this decision is the measure of the difficulty in making corrbet judgments in international affairs, in charting the future wisely, and in doing die right things in the right way and at the ri^t time. Should the foreign policy of Washington's Farewell Address be consid- ered a general principle of American foreign policy, or did it stem from tem- p^ai^y conditions and was it, therefore, bound to disappear with them? Are the jfeagn fb^es of Wa^ing^n’s and Monroe’s messages compatible with the Truman Doctrine? Stated another way, is the Truman Doctrine a mere ( 5 ) Politics among Nations modification of a general principle underlying Washington’s and Monroe’s conception of foreign affairs, or doesuihnTxurpaBLDoctrine constitute a radi- . cal departure from the traditions of .Am erican foreign poHcy? If it does, is it justified in the light of changed conditions? Generally speaking, are the dif- ferences in the international position of the United States in 17^, 1823, 1917, 1941, and 1947 such as to justify the different foreign policies formulated and exenited with regard to these different political situations? More particu- larly, what are the similarities and differences in the situation with which Europe confronted the United States in 1917, 1941, and 1947, and to what extent do they require similar or different foreign policies on the part of the United States ? What is the meaning of these shifts in British foreign policy? Are they the outgrowth of the whim and perfidy of princes and statesmen? Or are they inspired by the accumulated wisdom of a people, mindful of the perma- nent forces which determine their relations to the continent of Europe? Are the disasters which follow in the wake of the three attempts at con- tincntdJ 33 nqMest .SQ..lBaQy,aaadsnfe^ W wwes?.. Or does the similarity in results point to similarities in the over-all political situation, similarities which convey a lesson to be pondered by those who might want to try again? More particularly, are the F.umppan pnlirips n f'Stalin similar to those of Napoleon. William. II. and Hitle r? To the extent that they are, do they call for poUcies on the part of the United States similar to those pur- sued in 1917 and 1941 ? Sometimes, as in the case of the retrospective analysis of British foreign policy, the answer seems to be clear. We shall have more to say about that later. Most of the time, however, and especially when we deal with the pres- ent and the future, the answer is botmd to be tentative and subject to quali- fications. The faas from which the answer must derive are essentially am- biguous and subject to continuous change. To those men who would have it otherwise, history has taught nothing but false analogies. When they have been responsible for the foreign policies of their countries, they have brought only disaster. William II and Hitler learned nothing from Napoleon’s fate, for they thought it could teach them nothing. Those who have erected Washington’s advice into a dogma to be foEowed slavishly have erred no less than those who would dismiss it altogether. TW first Ipsson which the student of international politics must lea rn and nevttBifftrget k ^hat t he complexities of internation al affairs make simple so- ■ lutions and-triistwor thv proph ecies impossible . IFa here that the schol^and the charlatea part company, knowledge oi: the fisrees which determine poli- tics ^ong nations, and knowledge of the ways By which their poEtical rela- tkms proceed, reve^ ^ ambiguity ctf the fiicts of international politics. In every poEticai situanoo contradictory tendencies are at play^ One of these tendencies is more likely to prevail under certain conditions than others, But which tendency actually will prevaE is anybody’s guess. The best the scholar can do, then, is to trace the different tendencies which, as potaatiaEties, are inherent in a certain international sita^jon; He can point out the different conditions which make it more Ekdiy «aie tendency to prevaH.dl^ foe International Politics: A Dual Approach another, and, jfinally, assess the probabilities for the different conditions and tendencies to prevail in actuality. Because the facts of international politics are exposed to continuous change, world affairs have surprises in store for whoever tries to read the future from his knowledge of the past and from the signs of the present. Take the example of one of the greatest of British statesmen, the_younger Pitt. In February 1792, in his budget speech to the House of Commons, Pitt justi- fied the reduction of military expenditures (particularly the decrease by more than II per cent in the personnel of the British Navy) and held out hope for more reductions to come by declaring: “Unquestionably there never was a time in the history of this country when from the situation of Europe we might more reasonably expect fifteen years of peace than at the present mo- ment.” Only two months later the continent of Europe was engulfed in war. Less than a year later Great Britain was involved. Thus was initiated a period of almost continuous warfare which lasted nearly a quarter of a century. can we expect from the forecasts of lesser minds? In how many books written on interna- tional affairs before the First World War, when common opinion held great wars to be impossible or at least of short duration, was there even an inkHng of what was to come? Is there. a book, written in the period between the two world wars, which could have helped one anticipate what international politics would be like in the fifth decade of the century? Who could have guessed at the beginning of the Second World War what the political world would be hke at its end? Who could have known in 1945 what it would be like in 1948? WJaat^trustjfien shall _we place in those who today wnnid tell aki, .mil ^ 2. UNDERSTANDING THE PROBLEM OF INTERNATIONAL PEACE This leads us to the second purpose of this book. No study of politics and certainly no study of international politics in the mid-twentieth century can be disinterested in the sense that it is able to divorce knowledge from action and to pursue knowledge for its own sake. International politics is no longer, as it was for the United States during most of its history, a series of incidents, costly or rewarding, but hardly c^ng into question the nation’s very existence and destiny. The existence and destiny of the United State s were more deeply affected fay tfie^omcstic events of me Civii WS^ man by t he mtmati Qpal policies, le^ evolving from. ik^Mexka^ ^ The fallibility of prophecies in internatipnal affairs is strikingly demonstrated by the fan- tastic errors committed by the experts who have tried to forecast the nature of the next war. The history of these forecasts, from Machiavelli to General J. F. C. Fuller, is the story of logical deductions, plausible in themselves, which had no connection with the contingencies of Ae actual historic development. General Fuller, for instance, foresaw in 1923 that the decisive weapon of the Second World War would be gas! Sec The Reformation of War (New York: E. ?. Dutton and Company, 1923). ( 7 ) Foil tics among Nations War, the Spanish-American War, and the Roosevelt corollary to the Monroe Trpcmhc7~"^“ Two facts, peculiar to our time, have completely reversed the relative im- portance of domestic and international policies for the United States. One is that the ypitecjl States is at t he moment qfjAis writing the most powerful nation on earth . Yet, in comparison with its actual and potential competitors, it is not so powerful that it can afford to ignore the effect of its policies upon its p osition among the na tions. From the end of the Civil War to the begin- ning of the Second World War it mattered little what policies the United States pursued with regard to its Latin-American neighbors, China, or Spain, Thejelf-suflSciency of own strength^, jn con^ with the operation of th e balance of power^L .^^de theJUnited Stato the boundless am- ^bition. born of- success and.thejear goes with failure. The United States could take success and failure in stride without being un- duly tempted or afraid. Now it stands outside the enclosures of its continental citzdd^l^m^Ljm^ political world as frie nd or foe. It has The risk of being very powerful, but not omnipotent, is aggravated by the second fact: a dual revolution in the political situation of the w orld. The multiple state system of the past, which in the moral sense was one world, has been transformed into two inflexible, hostile blocs, which are morally two worlds. On the other hand, modern technology has made possible total war. The predominance of these two new elements in contemporary international politics has not only made the preservation of world peace extremely diffi- cult, it has also enormously increased the risks of war. Since in this world situation the United States holds a position of predominant power and, hence, of foremost responsibility, the understanding of the forces which mold international politics and of the factors which determine its course has be- come for the United States more than an interesting intellectual occupation. It has become a vital necessity. To reflect on international politics in the United States, as we approach the mid-twentieth century, then, is to reflect on the problems which confront American foreign policy in our time. WHk at all tiiqes the promotion of national interest s, of the , Umted S amqim power s h^ .finnrannflf. Aiugiicaai, aR nat^opsi^ I t yields in importance only to the most elemental considerations of natSial existence and security. It is for this reason thsu: this hook is planned around the two concepts of power and peac^. Thfese two cono^)ts are central to a discussion of world politics in the inid-tw^|ic?h eentui^, when the greatest accumulation of power ever known gives to the problem of peace an urgency which it has never had before. In a world whose moving force is the aspiration for power * This corollary is found in the messs^ge of TheodOTC Roosevelt to Congress on Dectm^ 6, 1904. In that message he proclahncd die of the United States to intervene i^ the do- mestic affairs of the Latin- Atoericah conndiest ^or the tott, sec Ruhl J. B^trdett, echtor^ T^4 Record of American Diplomacy: Document t^fd Wieadmgs in the History of Ant^M Relations (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, I947)> P- 539* (8 ) International Politics: A Dual Approach o£ soveragn nations, peace ^ m^tdned„only by , two^ devices. „ One is the self-regulatory mechanism of the social forces which manifests itself- in the struggle for power on the international scene, that is, t he balance of power. The other consists of normativ e ^ i pnp that gi-mggV in fbejojin^f i^tern^fton law, iixternational inorality^ and- world* publioopinr ioxL-^nce neither of these devices, as they operate today, is capable of keep- ing the struggle for power within peaceful bounds, three further questions must be asked and answered.. What is the^vahie nf_ thf> ri|r r^nf pro- posals JDQiaintgaaa£€i.pi inte m ajd o ml .peace ? More particularly, what is the v^ue „pf the proposal for doing away with the vei^_ internatipiial society of sovereign nations by establish ing a woyld sta te? And, finally, what must a program for action heLlike.- which, mindful, of the 1^5^- sons of the past, endeavors to adapt th^ tdlthej^roblcms o f Ac presen t ? ( 9 ) PART TWO INTERNATIONAL POLITICS AS A STRUGGLE FOR POWER CHAPTER I ’Political Power I. WHAT IS POLITICAL POWER?^ International politics, like all politics, is a struggle for power. Whatever the ultimate aims of international politics, power is always the immediate aim. Statesmen and peoples may ultimately seek freedom, security, prosperity, or power itself. They may define their goals in terms of a religious, philosophic, economic, or social ideal. They may hope that this ideal will materialize through its own inner force, through divine intervention, or through the natural development of human affairs. But whenever they strive to realize their goal by means of international politics, they do so by striving for power. The Crusaders wanted to free the holy places from domination by the Infidels; Woodrow Wilson wanted to make the world safe for democ- racy; the National Socialists wanted to open Eastern Europe to German colonization, to dominate Europe, and to conquer the world. Since they chose power to achieve these ends, they were actors on the scene of inter- national politics.^'. When we sptsk of power in the context of this book, we have in mind not man’s power over nature, or over an artistic medium, such as language, speech, sound, or color, or over the means of production or consumption, or over himself in the sense of self-control. When we sneak of power, we mean man’s control over the minds and actions of other men. By political power we refer to the amonf the holders of public au- thoritv and between the latter and people at largCv Political power, however, must be distinguished from force in the sense of thq actual exercise of physical violence. The threat of physical violence in the form of police action, imprisonment, capital punishment, or war is an intrinsic element of politics. When violence becomes an actuality, it signifies ^ The concept of p<^tical power poses one of the most difficult and controversial problems of political science. The value any particular concept will be determined by its ability to ^^ain a maximum oi the phenomena which are conventionally considered to belong to a ccr- sphere of poEtical activity. Thus a concept of political power, to be useful for the under- standing of international politics, niust be broader than one adopted to operate in the held of mumdpsd politics. poEticalf means employed in the latter are much more narrowly cir- cnmsqr^bod d^n arO those en:^lc^ted m intaiational politics. ^ Pm: aotne suggestive "remadss on power in relation to international politics, see Lionel l^ibhias, Ti&e (London; Jonathan Cajie, 1939), pp. toutics among Nations the abdication of political power in favor of military_or pscudo-mUitary pdwerT ISlSt^fhatidn^ strengt h as a threat or a potcndality is the most im factor n^i ng for . the political ppwet^nf t'f it becomes an actuality in war, it signifies the substitu- tion of military for political power. The actual exercise of physical violence substitutes for the psychological relation between two minds, which is of the essence of political power, the physical relation between two bodies, one of which is strong enough to dominate the other’s movements. It is for this reason that in the exercise of physical violence the psychological element of the political relationship is lost, and that we must distinguish between military and political power. PohticaljQWff is a psychological relation between t hose who exerci se it andhhn^Jny^cy^^^ it is .exercised. It gives the former control over certain actions of the latter through the influence which the former exert over the latter’s minds. That influence may be exerted through orders, threats, per- suasion, or a combination of any of these. The President of the United States, for instance, exerts political power over the executive branch of the govern- ment so long as his orders are obeyed by the members of that branch. The leader of a party has political power so long as he is able to mold the actions of the members of the party according to his will. We refer to the political power of an industrialist, labor leader, or lobbyist in so far as his preferences influence the actions of other men. The United States exerts political power over Puerto Rico so long as the laws of the United States are observed by the citizens of that island. When we speak of the political power of the United States in Central America, we have in mind the conformity of the actions of Central American governments with the wishes of the government of the United States.^ TimsJthe^^tatement , that A has or w ants political power o ver BjsigflifiCii, .always to A.is a ble^_orLwants to be able, to. opntxol cer tain ac- tio, Q& of, B .thraugh , influcndng.JB!’sLimad>. ... Whatever the material objectives of a foreign policy, such as the acquisi- tion of sources of raw materials, the control of sea lanes, or territorial changes, they always entail control of the actions of others through influence over their minds. The Rhine frontier as a century-old objective of French foreign policy points to the political objective to destroy tite desire of Ger- many to attack France by making it physically diflicult or impossible for Germany to do so. Great Britain owed its predominant position in world politics throughout the nineteenth century to the calculated policy of mak- ing it dther too dangerous (because Great Britain was too strong) or unat- tractive (because its strength was used with moderation) for other nations to oppose it2 The political obieedve of military preparations of any kind is to dete r rislcy far tn Hn so . Tie, pn- liticsd aim of prej^ttotts is, ia other words, to make the actual applkatian tnilirarY fni^ ^tbe prosseetive enemy 3 The cx^plcs in the text iSksttm aW powe? as mere social fact, as in the case of the anthesr^r ity, i.e., of the President o£ the United the lobbyist exercise political power, ^ ( 14 ) Political Power from the use of military fo rce. The political objective of war itself is not per se the conquest of territory and the annihilation of enemy armies, but a change in the mind of the enemy which will make him yield to the will of the victor. Therefore, whenever economic, financial, territorial, or military policies are under discussion in international affairs, it is necessary to distinguish be- tween economic policies which are undertaken for their own sake and eco- nomic policies which are the instrumentalities of a political policy, that is to say, a jiolicv whose economic purpose is but the means to jhe_end..of-.n(m^ ^ tiss > lti^g i.>d ie ,, pali^i es ^ The export policy of Switzerland with regard to the United States falls into the first category. The economic poH- cies of the Soviet Union with regard to the Eastern and Southeastern Euro- pean nations fall into the latter category. So do many policies of the United States in Latin America and Europe. The distinction is of great practical importance, and the failure to make it has led to much confusion in policy and public opinion. An economic, financial, territorial, or military policy undertaken for its own sake is subject to evaluation in its own terms. Is it economically or financially advantageous.? What effects has acquisition of territory upon the po pulation and economy of "tEe naupn ac quiring it? What are the conse- quences oit a change in a nuHt^ education, population, and the domestic political system? The decisions with respect to these policies are made exclusively in terms of such intrinsic considerations. When, however, the objectives of these policies serve to increase the power of the nation pursuing them with regard to other nations, these poli- cies and their objectives must be judged primarily from the point of view of their contribution to national power. An economic policy which cannot be justified in purely economic terms might nevertheless be undertaken in view of the political policy pursued. The insecure and unprofitable character erf a loan to a foreign nation may be a vaHd argument against it on purely finan- cial grounds. But the argument is irrelevant if the loan, however unwise it may be from a banker’s point of view, serves the political policies of the nation. It may, of course, be that the economic or financial losses involved in such policies will weaken the nation in its international position to such an extent as to outweigh the political advantages to be expected. On these grounds such policies might be rejected. In such a case, what decides the issue is, however, not purely economic and financial considerations, but a comparison of the political changes and risks involved, that is, the probable effect of these policies upon the international power of the nation. 2. THE DEPRECIATION OF POLITICAL POWER The aspiration for power being the disduguishing element of interna- tional politics, as o f all politics, imernational politics is of n ecessity power , politics . While this lact is generdly recognized in of intema- tiOTai affairs, it is frequently denied in the pronouncements of scholars, pub- licists^ and even statesmen . Since the end of the Napoleonic Wars, ever larger ( 15 ) Politics among Nations groups in the Western World have been persuaded that the struggle for power on the international scene is a temporary phenomenon, a historical accident which is bound to disappear once the pecuHar historic conditions which have given rise to it have been eliminated. Thus Jeremy Bentham be- lieved that the competition for colonies was at the root of all international conflicts. ‘'Ema ncipate your coloiues!” was his advice to the governments, and international conflict and war would of necessity disappear.^ Adherents of free,ti:adfi;,i.sj;c.h .,.as.,,,,CQhdm^^.^d>Pmudh^^ were, convinced that the re- moval of trade barriers was the_only .cQ ^^^^ of per- manent harmony among nations ami might even lead to the disappearance of international politics altoge ther. “At some"future election,*’ said Cobden, “we may probably see the test 'no foreign politics’ applied to those who offer to become the representatives of free constituencies.’’ I.„EQT:jya.a:.,and,,hi.s.,, Jnwf^.rs, r qpit-fllism is at the root of international discord and war. They ma in- tain that international socialism will do away with the struggle for power on the internatio nal scene a^bTin^^^outp^ peace. During the' nine-' teenth century, liberals every wherFsEareQ^e a)nvicdb^ that power politics and war were residues of an obsolete system of government and that, with the victory of democracy and constitutional government over absolutism and autocracy, international harmony and permanent peace would win out over power politics and war. Of this liberal school of thought, Woodrow Wilson was the most eloquent and most influential spokesman. In recent times, the conviction that the struggle for power can be elimi- nated from the international scene has been connected with the great at- tempts at organizing the world, such as the League of Nations and the United Nations. Thus Cordell Hull, then Secretary of State, declared in 1943 on his return from the Moscow Conference, which laid the ground- work for the United Nations, that the new international organization would mean the end of power politics and usher in a new era of international col- laboration.® Mr. Philip Noel-Baker, then British Minister of State, declared in 1946 in the House of Commons that the British government was “deter- mined to use the institutions of the United Nations to kill power ‘pohti^s^ order that, by the methods of democracy, the will of the people shall pre- vail.”® While we shall have more to say later about these theories and the ex- pectations derived from them,^® it is sufficient to state that the struggle for ^ Bmcmapkte Your Cdontes (Kndon:’£bTicrt^H * " "" ^ ‘Tree TiaKlel. Wliat is it? Why, breaking down the l^niws djat separate national those barriers, behind which nestle the fedings of pride, revenge, hatred, and jealousy, which every now and then burst their bounds, and deluge whole countries with blood,’^ ‘Tree trade is the international law of the Almighty,” and free trade and peace seem to be *^onc and die same cause.” See Speeches by Richard Cobden (London,* The Macmillan Company, 1870), I, 79; Political Writings (Nevv York: D. Appleton and Ojtmpany, 1867), II, no; letter of April 12, 1842, to Henry Ashworth, quoted in John Moriey, Ufe of Richard Cobden (Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1881), p, 154. . ® “Let us suppress the tariffs, and the alliance of the peoples will thus be declared, their solidarity recognized, their equality prosdk^m^^' Oiemres completes (Paris, 1867), I, 248. ^ Quoted in A. C. F. Beales, English UberaUsm, p. 195. s New Yor\ Times , November ^ ® House of Commons Debates Vol, 419, p. 1262. 10 See Part Eight ( 16 ) Political Power power ii ence..It ecx)noniic, and pol'ldcal conditions, states have met each other in contests for power. Even though anthropologists have shown that certain primitive peo- ples seem to be free from the desire for power, nobody has yet shown how their state of mind and the conditions under which they live can be recreated on a world-wide scale so as to eliminate the struggle for power from the international scene.^^ It would be useless and even self-destructive to free one or the other of the peoples of the earth from the desire for power while leaving it extant in others. If the des ire for power ca^ot be abolished every- where in the world, those who imglTbe ciimi would simply fall victims to t he power of otEers. The position taken here might be criticized on the ground that conclusions drawn from the past are unconvincing, and that to draw such conclusions has always been the main stock-in-trade of the enemies of progress and re- form. Though it is true that certain social arrangements and institutions have always existed in the past, it does not necessarily follow that they must always exist in the future. The situation is, however, different when we deal, not with social arrangements and institutions created by man, but with those elemental bio-psychological drives by which in turn society is created. The dri ves to live, to propagate, and to domi nf^t^ ll strength IS dependen t upon social -rnnditinnj^^hirh-Jiaay^fam d rive and tend to repress another, o r which withhold social, app mval f rom certain manifestations of t hese drive<;,_,while they encourage others. Thus, to take examples only from the sphere of power, Tnost societies con- demn killing as a means of attaining power within the society, but all so- cieties encourage the killing of enemies in that struggle for power which is called war. Diaators look askance at the aspirations for political power among their fellow citizens, but democracies consider active participation in the competition for political power a civic duty. Where a monopolistic or- economic activities east s, competition for ecoDomic power is a h^nt, and, in competitive economic systems certain manifestations of the strhgglelS^ ec onpyic" poorer are yudawed.^^^^^^ others..aiy.^nmun^^ Regardless of particular social conditions, the decisive argument against the opinion that the struggle for power on the international scene is a mere historic accident can, however, be derived from the nature of domestic poli- tics. The essence gf ify^nationaLpoUtics i^^^ its domestic .coun- are a struggle for tx)wen mooiEed only by the different conditions under which this struggle takes place in th^ ^mesde and in the international spheres.^ The desire to dominate, in particular, is a constitutive element of all hu- man associations, from the family through fraternal and professional asso- 5 umve cannot be denied that throughout historic time, regardless of social, ^ For an discussion of this proHem, see Malcolm Shajcp, “Aggression: A Stmfy ol Vafa^ and Law,” Bthia, Vol. 57, No. 4, Part II (July 1947)* sta Zc^ogtets have shown that the drive to dominate is to be found even in animals, such a^i xrm^k^s, who create social hierarchies on the basis of the will and the ability to , see, e.g., Wsrdcr AUee, Ammd Life and Social Growth (Baltimore: The Wilhams i and Sodd Life of Animals (New York: W. W. Norton and . 1^38). (17) Politics among Nations ciations and local political organizations to the state. On the family level, the typical conflict between the mother-in-law and her child’s spouse is in its essence a struggle for power, the defense of an established power position against the attempt to establish a new one. As such it foreshadows the con- flict on the international scene between the policies of the status quo and the policies of imperialism. Social clubs, fraternities, faculties, and business or- ganizations are scenes of continuous struggles for power between groups which either want to keep what power they already have or desire to attain greater power. Competitive contests between business enterprises as well as labor disputes between employers and employees are frequently fought not only, and sometimes not even primarily, for economic advantages, but for in- fluence over each other and over others, that is, for power. Finally, the whole political life of a nation, particularly of a democratic nation, from the local to the narinnal levek. is a continiiQUS^struggle for power. In periodical elections, in voting in legislative assemblies, in law suits before courts, in adminis- trative decisions and executive measures — in all these activities men try to maintain or to establish their power over other men. The processes by wMch legisk rive, judicial, executive, and administrativ e decision^ are reached ^e S^ubject to pressures and counterpr essures by *'pr^ure g^roupg!^ tryiiigTo^e- iend and ex pand thar Ssitiohs of p6w^^ In view of this ubiquity of the struggle for power in all social relations and on all levels of social organization, is it surprising that international poli- tics is of necessity power politics? And would it not be rathp surprising if the struggle for power were but an accidental and,£phemjei:allattribute of in- ternational politics when it is a permanent and necessary element of all branches of domestic politics? 3. TWO ROOTS OF THE DEPRECIATION OF POLITICAL POWER The depreciation of the role power plays on the international scene grows from two roots. Qae is the^pMlQSQJjhy of international rela tions which dom i- nated the hettp-r par t of the nineteenth centu ry a nd stiE hol^ sway ove r much of our thinking on international aif^sT The other is die particnffn* tt a Mca l a nd -m teUcctu a l drcm i st^ wh i cli h ave determined tJie relari .^ f£.lhpJ[Irurai-SratffS-nf Ain<^rira tn thp rest of the w orld. The ninet^th century was led to its depreciation of power politics by its domestic experience. The distinctive characteristic of this experience was the domination of the middle classes by the aristocracy. By . identifying this domi- nation with political domination any kind, the political philosophy of the nineteenth century came to identify the opptwition to aristoaratic politics with hostility to any kind of politics. After the defeat of aristocratic govern- ment^ the middle classy develop^ a systero' of indirect domination. They replaced the traditional divianquest of the United States by Spain,” Essays of William Graham Sumher (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940 J, II, 295. CHAPTER n The Struggle for Power: Policy of the Status Quo Domestic and international politics are but two different manifestations of the same phenomenon: the strug-g-le fpr pawer. T t.<; manifestations differ in the two different spheres because different moral, political, and general so- cial conditions prevail in each sphere. National societies show a much greater degree of social cohesion within themselves than among themselves. Cul- tural uniformity, technological unification, external pressure, and, above all, a hierarchic political organization co-operate in making the national society an integrated whole set apart from other national societies. In consequence, the domestic political order is, for instance, more stable and to a lesser degree subject to violent change than. is the international order. The history of the nations active in international politics shows them con- tinuously preparing for, actively involved in, or recovering from organized violence in the form of war. In domestic politics, on the other hand, organ- ized violence as an instrument of political action on an extensive scale has become a rare exception. Yet as a potentiality it exists here, too, and at times the fear of it in the form of revolution has exerted an important influence upon political thought and action.^ Hence, th f diffprenre aqd international pohtics_ in. tMs ^ k one. o£ degree, All poUtics, domes tic and international, reveals three basic patterns , that is to say, all political phenomena can te reduced to one of three basic types. A politi cal policy seeks either to keep po wjer^toJ LDx:iease4)Qye^^ Rfraffi i o these three typical patterns of politics, three typical international poli- cies correspond. A nation whose foreign policy tends towar d keeping power and not toward changing the distribution, .n£.,.paw£Lj’nJt.s,,.£a^^ . policy of the status quo. A nation whose foreign policy aims at acquiring more power than it actually has through expansion of its power beyond its froiltiers, whose foreign policy, in other words, seeks a favorable change in pbfs^dt status, pursues a policy of imperialism. A nation whose foreign policy , ^ of tfec eeotury, as Guglielmo Ferrero has pointed out in The^rmctples of G. P. Puwn’s Sons, 1942). ■‘■■v;., (21) Politics among Nations aims to demonstrate the power it has, either for the purpose of m aintaining ■or^reasing it, pnrs ues a policy It should be notccTtEk these formulations are of a provisional nature and are subject to further refine- ment.® The conc ept /‘status, quo’Ms derived from status quo ante helium , a diplo- matic term referring to the usual clauses in peace treaties v^hich provide for the evacuation of territory by enemy troops and its restoration to the prev^ar sovereignty. Thus the peace treaties with Italy ^ and Bulgaria® terminating the Second World War provide that “all armed forces of the Allied and As- sociated Powers shall be withdrawn” from the territory of the particular na- tion “as soon as possible and in any case not later than ninety days from the coming into force of the present Treaty.” ® That is, within this time limit the status quo ante helium shall be re-established with regard to this territory.^ The policy of the status quo aims at the maintenance of the distributi pn of power which exists at a par ticular moment in history. On e might say tha t the policy of the status quo fulfills the same fimction for international poli- tics th^a conservative policy performs for dom^tic affairs. The_ pa moment in hi story which serves as point of reference for a policy of the status quo is frequeritly^the distribution of power as it exists^ at the S of a war and as itls codified in a tr^ty o F^ace. T his is"sQTS€causTfEe“inain"^3rp^ of peacF treaties Ts to formulate in legal terms the shift in power which vic- tory and defeat in the preceding war have brought about, and to insure the stability of the new distribution of power by means of legal stipulations. Thus it is typical for a status quo policy to appear as defense of the peace settlement which terminated the last general war. The European govern- 2 It is not a departure from this threefold pattern of international politics when sometimes a nation gives up power without being physically compelled to do so, as Great Britain did with regard to India in 1947 and as the United States has done on several occasions with regard to Latin-American countries. In such cases a nation acts like a military commander who may retreat under certain circumstances, either because his front is overextended or his lines of communi- cation are threatened or because he wants to concentrate his forces for an attack. Similarly, a na- tion may retreat from an exposed power position which it cannot hope to hold very long. Or it may exchange one kind of control for another kind, e.g„ military for political control, po- litical for economic control, or vice versa (the substitution of the Go^ Neighbor Policy for the policy of the “big stick” is a case in point). Or a change in the objectives of its foreign policy may require concentration of effort at another point. In any case, the fact that it gives up power Voluntarily cannot be taken to mean that it is not interested in power, any more than the retreat of a military commander proves that he is not interested in mjlitary victory. ® It must especially be pointed out that these different patterns of international policies do not of necessity correspond to conscious motivations in the minds of statesmen or supporters of the r^pcctive for^n pplkies. Statesmen and supporters may not even be aware of the actual character of the policies they pursue and support More particularly, a nation may intend to pursue a policy of the status quo, while actually, without being aware of it, it is embarking upon a policy of imperialism. Thus it has been said of the British that they acquired their em- pire in a “fit absent-mindedness.” In what follows at this point in the text we are exclu- sively concerned wtith the actual character of the policies pursued and not with the motives of those who pursue them, ^ See Article 73, New Ydr\ Times, January 18, 1947, p. 26. ® Sec Article 20, ibid., p. 32. ® Article 22 of the peace tr^ty with Hui^gary and Artide 21 of the peace treaty with Ru- mania {ibid., pp. 31, 34) contain a simitair provjaon, subject only to the right of the Soviet Union to keep on the respective territories ffee ^oops nece^ary lor the maintenance ci lines of communications with its occupation forces in Austria. ^ For a great number of older exami^es^ see Ciiienaan Phfilipson, Termimtiofi of War and Treaties of Peace (New York: E. P. Dutmo pp. 223 5 . (22 ) Policy of the Status Quo ments and political parties which, from 1815 to 1848, pursued a policy of the status quo did so in defense of the peace settlement of 1815. The main pur- pose of the Holy AlHance was the maintenance of the status quo as it existed at the conclusion of the Napoleonic Wars; in consequence it functioned mainly as a guarantor of the Treaty of Paris of 1815 which terminated the Napoleonic Wars. ^ In this respect, the relation between the policy in defense of the status quo of 1815, the Treaty of Paris, and the Holy Alliance is similar to the relation between the policy in favor of the status quo of 1918, the peace treaties of 1919, and the League of Nations. The distribution of power as it existed at the end of the First World War found its legal expression in the peace trea- ties of 1919. It hecame the main purpose nf_^e tain-pfiacc ia, t he^peace treaties of iqiq. A rticle 10 of the Covenant of the League, obligat- ing its members “to respect and preserve as against external aggression the territorial integrity and existing political independence of all members of the League,” recognizes as one of the purposes of the League the maintenance of the territorial status quo as established by the peace treaties of 1919. Con- sequently, in the period between the two world wars the struggle for and against the status quo was in the main fought either by defending or oppos- ing the territorial provisions of the Treaty of Versailles and their guarantee in Article 10 of the Covenant of the League. It was, therefore, only consistent from their point of view that the nations chiefly opposed to the status quo established in 1919 should sever their connections with the League of Nations — in iQ^2, Germany in Italy in 1937. ^ It is, however, not only in peace treaties ^d international organizations supporting them that the policy of the status quo manifests itself. Nations desiring to maintain a certain distribution of power may use as their instru- ment special treaties, such as “ The Nine P ower Tieatv relatin2ilQ..ErindDles and Policies to be followed in Matters signed at Wash- ington, February 6, 1922,® and the “Treaty of Mutual Guarantee between Germany, Belgium, France, Great Britain, and Italy,” signed at Locarno, October 16, 1925.® The Nine Power Treaty transformed the American policy of the “open door” in China into a multilateral policy which the nations mostly inter- ested in trade with China, as well as China itself, pledged themselves to up- hold. Its main purpose was to stabilize the distribution of power which ex- isted at the time between the contracting nations with regard to China. This meant that the special rights which certain nations, especially Great Britain and Japan, had acquired in certain parts of Chinese territory, such as Man- churia and various ports, should not only remain intact but that no new spe- cial rights should be ceded by China to any of the contracting parties. The Locarno Treaty of mutual guarantee endeavored to supplement the general guarantee of the territorial status quo of 1918, contained in Article 10 of the Covoiant of the League, with a special one with respect to the ® United States Treaty Series, No. 671 (Washington, 1923). ® American Journal of International Law, Vol. 20 (1926), Supplement, p. 22. Politics among Nations western frontiers of Germany. Article i o f the Tre at y expre ssly referred to the guarantee of “thfijagintenance. of the temtonSTstat^ quo resujHhg fronL the frontier s between Ge rmany and .Belgiuiii^ndJpetweeu,, Germany . Fxaiieeul Alliance treaties, in particular, have frequently the function of preserving the status quo in certain respects. Thus, after the victorious conclusion of the war against France and the foundation of the German Empire in 1871, Bis- marck tried to protect the newly won dominant position of Germany in Eu- rope by alliances which were intended to prevent a war of revenge on the part of France. In 1879, Germany and Austria concluded an alliance for mu- tual defense against Russia, and, in 1894, France and Russia entered into a defensive alliance against the German-Austrian combination. The mutual fear lest the other alliance be intent upon changing the status quo while pro- fessing to maintain it was one of the main factors , in bringing about the general conflagration of the First World War, The alliance treaties which France concluded with the Soviet Union, Po- land, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and Rumania in the period between the two world wars were intended to maintain the status quo, mainly in view of possible German attempts to change it. Similar treaties between Czechoslo- vakia, Yugoslavia, and Rumania, and the treaty between Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union had the same purpose. The Ineffectiveness of this system of alhances when it was put to the test from 1935 to 1939 was one of the rea- sons for Germany’s attadk on Poland. The British-Polish Alliance of April 5, 1939, was the last attempt, before the outbreak of hostilities, to preserve at least the territorial status quo on the eastern German frontier. Today the alli- ances which the Soviet Union has concluded with the countries of Eastern Europe and which the countries of Western Europe have concluded among themselves aim similarly at the maintenance of the status quo in these re- spective European regions as it was established by the distribution of power at the end of the Second World War. The manifestation of the policy of the status quo which has had the greatest- importance for the United States and has been the cornerstone of its foreign relations is the Monroe Doctrine. A imilateral declaration made by President Monroe in his annual message to Congress on December 2, 1823, the Doc- trine lays down the two essential principles of any status quo poUcy, On the one hand, it stipulates on the part of the United States respect for the exist- ing (fistribution of power in the Western Hemisphere: ‘‘With the existing cofemes <:^ dependencies of any European power we have not interfered and On the other hand, it proclaims resistance on the part of the Unitai jS^^ to mkV change of the existing distribution of power by any non-Aineri^;na^c^j.^^nt the governments who have declared their independwee, and:Pi?dntain it, * . . we could not view any interposition for the pwpose of op^f^ng ithw, Of; 9^^ in any oihex manner their destiny, by any the manifestation of an unfriendly' Presid^t Fraidc- lin D. Roosevelt of the Pan-American Union on was Policy of the Status Quo aimed and is aimed against the acquisit ion in any man ner of the cont rol of additiond^ territory in Sis hemspherc/by any non-Am erican p ower/* We have said that the policy of Se status quo aims at the maintenance of the distribution of power as it exists at a particular moment in history. This does not mean that the policy of the status quo is necessarily opposed to any change whatsoever. While it is not opposed to change as such, it is op- posed to any change which would amount to a reversal of the power rela- tions among two or more nations, reducing, for instance, A from a first-rate to a second-rate power and raising B to the eminent position A formerly held. Minor adjustments in the distribution of power, however, which leave intact the relative power positions of the nations concerned, are fully com- patible with a policy of the status quo. For instance, the purchase of Ae ter- ritory of Alaska by the United States in 1867 did not then affea the status q uo, between the Unite d States and Russia, since, in vi ew of the tech nology of coxxim u Dkatiana.^^ t i me , thc ,.a cq . uis i U Qn,, b , y ,.. t h c U j o itdi.. States of Jhis, th en inaccessible territory did not affect to any appreciable ^ tent die . distribution of po\yer between-the. United , Similarly , by acquiring the Virgin Islands from Denm ark in 1917, the United States dm not embark upon a policy aiming at a change of the status quo with regard to the Central American republics. While the acquisition of the Virgin Islands gready improved the strategic position of the United States in so far as the defense of the approaches to the Panama Canal was concerned, it did not change the relative power positions of the United States and the Central American republics. The acquisition of the Virgin Islands may have strengthened the already dominant position of the United States in the Caribbean, yet it did not create it and, therefore, was compatible with a policy of the status quo. One might even ^y that, by strengthening the preponderance of the United States over tlie C^tral American repubh^ ' actually reinforced the existing distribution of power and t^^^ p urposes^of a policy ohdieltiHFqTO — - ' -'-"rir-Tni-.-n,ir Roosevelt* s Foreign Policy, 193^41* FJ).R/s Unedited Speeches and Messages (New York: Wilfred Funk, Inc., 1942), p. 4. (^ 5 ) CHAPTER III The Struggle for Power: Imperialism I, WHAT IMPERIALISM IS NOT An objective analysis of the acquisition of the Virgin Islands by the United States might show that it was part of a po licy of the status quo in that re- gion. Nevertheless, these and similar moves toward strengthening the posi- tion of the United States in the Caribbean have been decried as imperialistic by many observers. Such observers have used the term “imperialistic” not for the purpose of characterizing objectively a particular type of foreign policy, but as a term of opprobrium by which a policy to which the observer is op- posed c m be discredited This arbitrary use of the term for polemical pur- poses has become.so'WJespread that today “imperialism” and “imperialistic” n^ policy, regardless of its a c^al rppppsed. Anglophobes will refer to British imperialism as an actuality in 1948, as they did in 1940 or in 1914. Russophobes will call imperialistic whatever the Russians do in foreign affdrs. The Second World War was considered im- perialistic in motivation by the Soviet Union until it was attacked in 1941. In Russian eyes, the war then became anti-imperialistic. To enemies and critics of the United States everywhere “American imperialism” is a stand- ard term. To add to the confusion, economic systems, political systems, and economic groups, such as bankers and industrialists, are indiscriminately identified with imperialistic foreign policies. In this process of indiscriminate usage the term “imperialism” has lost all concrete meaning. Everybody is an imperialist to someone who happens to take f^yrqvtinrLm his ford g n jiQlide^. U nder such circumstances it becomes the task of a scholarly study to break with popular usage in order to give the term an ethically neutral, objective, and definable meaning which at the same time is useful for the theory and practice of international affairs.^ Before we ask what imperialism actually is, let us ask first what imperial- ^ The term is f^eque^tly used as synonymous with any kind of colonial expansion, as, for instance, in Parker Thomas Moon, ImP^ridism and World Politics (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1926). Such use is tmofejectiolKdxk from a scientific point of view, so long as it implies no general theory of the nature of eq:^sionist policies as such. Since in the? text we are concerned with the general characterisfics of International policies of expansion, it is obvious that a concept limited to the phenomena ol colonial expansion is too narrow for cmr purposes. (26 ) a rc indiscriminately apphed to any foreig Imperialism ism is not, but is most often supposed to be.. The three most popular miscon- ceptions require our attention. 1. Not every foreign policy aiming at an increase in.. the ppwer„ of agna- tion is necessarily a manifestation of imperialism. We have already disposed of this misconception in our discussion of the policy of the status quo.LWc . defined imperiaUsm as a policy wh^ aims at the overArow of tl^ quo, at a reversal of the power relations between two or more nations. A policy seeking only adjustment, leaving the essence of these power rela- tions intact, still operates within the general framework of a policy of the status quo. The view that imperialism and any purposeful increase in power arc identical is held mainly by two distinct groups. Those who are opposed on principle to a particular nation and its policies, such as Anglophobes, Russo-^ phobes, and anti-Americans, regard the very existence of the object of their phobia as a threat to the world. Whenever a country, thus feared, sets out to increase its power, those who fear it must view the increase in power as a stepping-stone to world conquest, that is, as manifestation of an imperial- istic policy. On the other hand, those who, as heirs of the political philosophy of the nineteenth century, consider any active foreign policy an evil bound to disappear in the foreseeable future will condemn a foreign policy that seeks an increase in power. They will identify that foreign policy with what is for them the paradigm of evil — ^imperialism. 2. Not every fqreiggrpolicy aiming at the preservation of an empire that alrea dy exists is imperialism. I t iT ^^deT^Teneved fh¥f such as Great Britain, France, the Soviet Union, or the United States, does in order to maintain its preponderant position in certain regions is imperial- istic. Thus imperialism becomes identified with the maintenance, defense, and stabilization of an empire already in existence rather than with the dynamic process of acquiring one. Yet, while it may make sense to apply the term “imperialism” to the domestic policies of an existing empire, it is confusing and misleading to apply the term to international policies of an essentially static and conservative character; for in the international field imperialism is contrasted with the policy of the status quo and, hence, has a dynamic con- notation. The history of what is commonly called “British imperialism” is instructive in this regard. The idea of British imperialism had its origin in Great Britain itseE was used for the firs t time by the conservatives under Disraeli in th e cam- pmgn S lEe elections oFiS^VTlie iSea of Srx&li mpefmsm^^^ conSvcd by Disraeli and developed later by Joseph Chamberlain and Winston Churchill, was opposed to what they called the cosmopolitanism and inter- nationalism of the liberals. It found its concrete expression in the political program of 1 ‘imDerial federation.” The most important points of this pro- gram were: (i) ths tmification and integration of Great .Britain and JULp os- s essinns inm a eJ3apim.-m jt-h, thn, ,( 3 ) j mi|iai . aa P f 4 i - fnr jfc S . j an d (4>.ft moral 2 On this point see the discussion in Chapter 11. Politics among ISations When this “imperialistic” program was postulated and put into effect, the territorial expansion of Great Britain had in the main come to an end. The program of British “imperiahsm”--was,,J±i,a:efQre>-j£Sse^ a program j)f consQljjdad0X4.^i]L0t of expansion. It sought to secure and exploit what had already been appropriated. It endeavored to stabilize the distribu- tion of power which had been brought about by the creation of the British Empire. When Kipling justified British imperialism as hurdenj” the burden was already shouldered. Since the 1870’s, British “imperialism,” that is, British foreign policy with regard to Britain’s oversea possessions, was in the main a policy of the status quo and not imperialistic at all in the exact meaning of the term. Yet the anti-imperialists in Great Britain and elsewhere, accepting the imperialistic slogans of Disraeli and Chamberlain at face value and mistaking the effects of imperialism for imperialism itself, opposed the British policy of exploitation and consolidation, especially in Af- rica and India, as “imperialistic.” In fact, when Churchill refused “to pre- side over the liquidation of the British Empire,” he was speaking not as an imperialist but as a conservative in foreign affairs, a defender of the status quo of empire. British “imperialism” and its opponents are the outstanding examples of the confusion between the consolidation and defense of empire, on the one •hand, and imperialism, on the other. But they are not the only examples. When we speic of the Roman Empire and of Roman imperialism, we think naturally of the period of Roman history which starts with Augustus, the first emperor governing what was then called for the first time imperium Romanum, Yet, when Augustus gave Rome and its possessions the consti- tution of an empire, the expansion of Rome had essentially come to an end. The foreign policy of the Republic, from the Punic Wars to its overthrow by Julius Caesar, had indeed been imperialistic in the exact meaning of the term. In that period the political face of the earth had been changed and made Roman. The foreign policy of the emperors and their perpetual wars served the main purpose of securing and protecting what had been con- quered before. Not unlike the “imperialistic” policies of Great Britain from the time of Disraeli to Churchill, Roman foreign policy was one of conserva- tion, of the status quo. When there were conquests, as under Trajan for instance, these policies served to make the empire and Roman supremacy secure. The saiM is essentially true of the territorial aspects of American “im- perially” frmn tl^ bdg^ining of the twentieth century to the Second World War, Tte debate fpf and against Ameri^ imperialism which raged during the Sifst dydes^^ the century followed the great imf^riali^c expan- sion c^-ihe nin^eenth^ c^^ The policy which ^ et(il Theory of Wat (New York: The Vanguard Press, 1936); see idsb The New ReptMk, V6l. 86, March 4, ii, 18, 1936. ^ CoUe^d Wor\s (New York: Int^naedonal Publishers, 1927), VoL i8; Selected Works (New York: In^epnationd I^istes, 1935), Vol. 5. ( 29 ) Politics among Nations Bukharin/ on the other hand, identified imperialism and capitalism outright. Imperialism is identical with capitalism in its, last, that is, monopoly stage o£ development. According to Lenin, “Imperialism is oapitaUsm ia. that phase of its development in which the domination of monopolies and finance- capital has established itself; in which the export of capitd has acquired very great importance; in which the division of the world among the big interna- tional trusts has begun; in which the partition of all the territory of the earth amongst the great capitalist powers has been completed.” ® In the eyes of the Marxians capitalism is the main evil and imperialism only its necessary or probable manifestation. The liberal school, of which John A- Hobson ® is the chief representative, is mainly concerned with im- perialism in which it finds the result, not of capitalism as such, but of cer- tain maladjustments within the capitalist system. In conformity with Marx- ism, the liberal school diagnoses as the root of imperialism the surplus of goods and capital which seek outlets in foreign markets. Yet, according to Hobson and his school, imperialist expansion is not the inevitable and not even the most rational method of disposing of these surpluses. Since the sur- pluses are the result of the maldistribution of consuming power, the remedy lies in the expansion of the home market through economic reforms, such as payment of higher wages and elimination of oversavings. It is this beHef in a domestic alternative to imperialism which in the main distinguishes the lib- eral school from Marxism. The “devil theory” ofirnpeaalism oper^tes on a nmch low^_i^^ level than its two companion th eories. It is widely held by pacifi sts a nd may be said to haye been the official philosophy of the Nye Committee which in 1934-6 investigated on behalf of the United States Senate the influence of financial and industrial interests on the participation of the United States in the World The publicity which the proceedings of this committee received made the “devil theory” of imperialism f or a time the most popular foreign affairs \r\ the United States. The simplicity of the the- ory contributed much to its popularity. It identified certain groups which obviously profited from war, such as manufacturers of war material (the so- called “mmirinna makcrsl^Y^iaternationd baid^ (!!WalI.^J:met”)>,and the UW -.&in. ce -they profited from war, they must be interested in having war* Thus the war profiteers transform themselves into the “war monger s.” the “devils” in While the extreme Marxians equate capitalism and imperialism, and while the moderate Marxians and the disciples of Hobson see in imperial- ism the result of maladjustments within the capitalist system, for the ad- herents of the “ckvil theory” imperialism and war in general amount to nothing but^a^conspiracy. olcviLcapItalisU for, the ,,,pmpo:8£.oLpiiYar^^ain.^,., .. ^ Xmpertalistn and World Economy (New York: International Publishers, 1929). Of the writers who, aside from those mentioned in the text, have particularly influenced the develop- ment of the Marxian theory ©f knperkUsnv Rosar l^ixemburg and Fritz Sternberg ought to be mentioned; c£. the latter’s The Coming CrisU (New, York: The John Day Company, 1946). ® Jmperiedism, the Highesi Stage of (New Yorks International Pablkhcrs, 1933). P. 72 * ^ ^ r / ^ Imperialisnt (London; G. Allen & XSBBJw , ^ Imperialism b) Criticism of these Theories All economic explanations o£ imperialism, the refined as well as the primi- tive, are unable to overcome the arguments derived from the evidence of his- tory. The economic interpretation of imperialism erects a limited historic experience based on certain isolated cases into a universal law of history. It is indeed true that in the late nineteenth and in the twentieth centuries a small number of wars were waged primarily, if not exclusively, for economic objectives. The classic examples are the B oer War of i 8 qq-iqo 2 and the Chaco War between Bolivia and Paraguay from, 19^-35. The main responsibility of British gold mining interests for tiie Boer War can hardly be doubted. The Chaco War is considered by some to have been primarily a war between two oil companies forihe control of desirable oil fields. However, during the entire period of mature capitalism, no war, with the exception of the Boer War, was waged by major powers exclusively or even predominantly for economic objectives. The Austro-Prussian War of 1866 and the Franco-German War of 1870, for instance, had no economic objec- tives of any importance. They were political wars, indeed imperialistic wars, fought for the purpose of establishing a new distribution of power, first in favor of Prussia within Germany and then in favor of Germany within the European state system. The Crimean War of 1854-56 . the Spanish-American War of i8q8, the Ru sso-Tapanese War of iqo4--o^, Ae Turko-Italian War of 1911-12, and the several Balkan Wars show economic objectives only in a subordinate role, if they show them at all. The two world wars were cer- tainly political wars, whose stake was the domination of Europe, if not of the world. Naturally, victory in these wars brought economic advantages and, more particularly, defeat brought in its wake economic losses. But these ef- fects were not the real issue; they were only by-products of the political con- sequences of victory and defeat. Still less were these economic eflEects the motives which determined in the minds of the responsible statesmen the issue of war and peace. The economic theories of imperialism are thus not supported by the ex- perience of that historic period which they suppose to be intimately con- nected, if not identical, with imperialism, that is, the period of capitalism. Furthermore, the main period of colonial expansion which the economic theories tend to identify with imperialism precedes the age of mature capi- talism and cannot be attributed to the inner contradiaions of the decaying capitalist system. In comparison with the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eight- eenth centuries, the colonial acquisitions of the nineteenth and twentieth cen- turies are small. The latest phase of capitalism even wimesses the liquidation of e|npire on a large scale in the form of the retreat from Asia of Great Britain, France, and the Netherlands. The historic evidence is still more unfavorable to the contentions of , the economic theories if one tests the theories against the evidence presented by the precapitalist processes of empire building. The policies which in aqcient times led to the foimdation of the Egyptian, Assyrian, and Persian empires were imperialistic in the political sense. So were the conquests of Alexander the Great and the policies of Rome in the last century before the Christian Politics among Nations era. The Arabian expansion in the seventh and eighth centuries showed all the earmarks of imperialism. Pope Urban II used the typical ideological ar- guments in support of an imperialistic policy when, in 1095, he expressed to the Council of Clermont the reasons for the First Crusade in these words: “For this land which you inhabit, shut in on all sides by the seas and sur- rounded by the mountain peaks, is too narrow for your large population; nor does it abound in wealth; and it furnishes scarcely food enough for its cul- tivators. Hence it is that you murder and devour one another, that you wage war, and that very many among you perish in civil strife.” Lou is XIY, Tetenjthe. iJxcat, and Napoleon I were decidedly imperialists. All these imperialisms of precapitalist times share with those of the capi- talist period the tendency toward overthrowing the established power rela- tions and putting in their stead the dominance of the imperialistic power. Yet those two periods of imperialism share also the subordination of eco- nomic objectives to political considerations. Alexander the Great and Napoleon I, no more than Adolf Hitler, em- barked on imperialistic policies for the purpose of personal gain or in order to escape the maladjustments of their economic systems. What they aimed at was exactly the same thing the captain of industry is aiming at when he tries to establish an industrial “empire ” by adding enterprise to enterprise until he dominates his industry in a monopolistic or quasi-monopolistic manner. What the precapitalist imperialist, the capitalist imperialist, and the “im- perialistic” capitalist want is power, not economic gain. The captain of in- dustry is no more driven toward his “imperialistic goal” by economic neces- sity or personal greed than was Napoleon I. Personal gain and the solution of economic problems through imperialistic expansion are for all of them a pleasant afterthought, a welcome by-product, not the goal by which the im- perialistic urge is attracted. We have seen that imperialism is not determined by economics, capitalist or otherwise. We shall see now that capitalists per se are not imperialists. According to the economic theories and, more particularly, the “devil the- ory,” capitalists use governments as their tools in instigating imperialistic policies. Yet the investigation of historic instances cited in support of the eco- nomic interpretation shows that in most cases the reverse relationship actu- ally existed between statesmen and capitalists. Imperialistic policies were gen- erally conceived by the governments who summoned the capitalists to support the^ policies. Thus historic evidence points to the primacy of politics over eamomics, and “the rule of the financier . . . over international politics” is indeoJ, in the words of Professor Schumpeter, “a newspaper fairytale, almost ludicrously at variance widi facts.” far from being the instigators of imperialistic policies, capitalists as a group, that is, aside from certain individual capitalists, were not even en- thusiastic supporters. TCht literature and policies of the groups and political parties representing die €g|>italkt element in modern societies are a testimony F* A. Oggr € h note i. ^ lU ' ; ( 32 ) Imperialism to the traditional opposition of the merchant and manufacturing classes to any foreign policy which, like imperialism, might lead to war. As Professor Viner has stated: It was for the most part the middle classes who were the supporters of paci- fism, of internationalism, of international conciliation and compromise of dis- putes, of disarmament — in so far as these had supporters. It was for the most part aristocrats, agrarians, often the urban working classes, who were the ex- pansionists, the imperialists, the jingoes. In the British Parliament it was spokes- men for the '‘moneyed interests,” for the emerging middle classes in the north- ern manufacturing districts and for the “City” in London, who were the appeasers during the Napoleonic Wars, during the Crimean War, during the Boer War, and during the period from the rise of Hider to the German inva- sion of Poland. In our own country it was largely from business circles that the important opposition came to the American Revolution, to the War of 1812, to the imperialism of 1898, and to the anti-Nazi policy of the Roosevelt adminis- tration prior to Pearl Harbor.^^ From Sir Andrew Freeport in the Spectator at the beginning of the eight- eenth century to Norman AngelPs The Great Illusion in our time, it has been the conviction of the capitalists as a class and of most capitalists as in- dividuals that “war does not pay,” that war is incompatible with an indus- trial society, that the interests of capitalism require peace and not war. For only peace permits those rational calculations upon which capitalist actions arc based. War carries with it an element of irrationality and chaos which is alien to the very spirit of capitalism. Imperialism, however, as the attempt to overthrow the existing power relations, carries with it the inevitable risk of war. As a group then, capitalists were opposed to war; they did not ini- tiate, and only supported with misgivings and xmder pressure, imperialistic policies which might lead, and many times actually did lead, to war. How was it possible that a body of doctrine, such as the economic theories of imperialism, which is to such an extent at variance with the facts of ex- perience, could hold sway over the public mind? There are two answers. We have already pointed to the general tendency of the age to reduce political problems to economic ones.^® Of this fundamental error, the capitalists and their critics are equally guilty. The former expected from the development of capitalism, freed from the atavistic fetters of the precapitalist age and fol- lowing only its own inherent laws, general prosperity and peace. The latter were convinced that these aims could be achieved only through the reform or the abolition of the capitalist system. Both camps looked to economic reme- ^2 Jacob Viner, ^Tbc Economic Problem,” New Perspectives on Peace, edited by George B. dc Huszar (C^cago: The University of Chicago Press, 1944)* P- 97 * Professor Vmer might ahK> have ci«ed the opposition of New York and New England merchants to the Civil War; Philip S. Foner, Business amd Slavery: the New Yor\ Merchants and the Irrepressible Conflict ^Chapel IJill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1941). * Significant ki this resp^ is also the report which the British Ambassador to Germany sent o 4 ^the eVe of the Firit World War^ Jnne 30, 1914, to his Foreign Of&ce; *T hear in fact from ^ si^cs that the Snar»dal apd industrial classes are dead against a war in any shape. . . Biijluh Docurn^is oh the Origkt^ of the War, i8g8-igi4 (London: His Majesty's Stationery (Mcc, 19^6% XI, 561, Set abovf,^pp. Qt also Hans J. Morgenthau^ Sciendfic Man vs. Power PoUttes (cincagd: The tJjEilycrtity bl X^icago Fress, 1946), pp. 75 ff. ( 33 ) Politics among Nations dies-foL^golitical problems. Bentham advocated the emancipation of the colo- nies as the'meahs of doing aw'ay with the imperialistic conflicts which lead to war. Proudhon, Cobden, and their disciples saw in tariffs the sole source of international conflicts and reasoned that peace lay in extending free trade.^^ In our own time we have heard it said that since German, Italian, and Japanese imperialism was born of economic needs, these countries would have refrained from imperialistic policies had they received loans, colonies, and access to raw materials. Poor nations will go to war, so the argument runs, in order to escape economic distress; if the rich nations alleviate their economic afflictions, they will have no reason to go to war. In the classic age of capitalism both the adherents and the opponents of the capitalist system beheved that the economic motives which seemed to determine the actions of businessmen were guiding the actions of all men. The other reason for the ready acceptance of the economic interpretation of imperialism Hes in its plausibility. What Professor Schumpeter has said of the Marxian theory of imperiaUsm holds generally true: “A series of vital facts of our time seems to be perfectly accounted for. The whole maze of international politics seems to be cleared up by a single powerful stroke of analysis.” The mystery of so threatening, inhuman, and often murderous a historic force as imperialism, the theoretical problem of defining it as a distinctive type of international politics, the practical difficulty, above all, of recognizing it in a concrete situation and of counteracting it with adequate means — all this is reduced to either the inherent tendencies or the abuses of the capitalist system. Whenever the phenomenon of imperialism presents it- self for cither theoretical understanding or practical action, the simple scheme will provide an almost automatic answer which puts the mind at case 3, DIFFERENT TYPES OF IMPERIALISM The true nature of imperialism as a policy devised to overthrow the sta- tus quo can best be explained by a consideration of certain typical situations which favor imperialistic policies and which, given the subjective and objec- tive conditions necessary for an active foreign policy, will almost inevitably produce a policy of imperialism. a) Three Inducements to ImperiaUsm When a nation is engaged in war with another nation, it is very likely that the nation which anticipates victory will pursue a policy which seeks a permanent change of the power relations with the defeated enemy. The na- tion will pursue this policy regardless of what the objectives were at the out- break of the war. It is the objective of this policy of change to transform the relation between victor and vanquished which happens to exist at the end of the war into the new status quo of the peace settlement. Thus a war which was started by the victor as a defensive war, that is, for the maintenance of See above, p- 15 Josqph Schumpeter, Captidtsm^ 4 md democracy (New York apd Londpa; Harper and Brothers, 1947), p. 51. Imperialism the prewar status quo, transforms itself with the approaching victory into an imperialistic war, that is, for a permanent change in the status quo. The “Carthaginian Peace,” by which the Romans changed their power relations with the Carthaginians permanently in their favor, has become the by-word for the kind of peace settlement which tends to perpetuate the rela- tion between victor and vanquished as it exists at the conclusion of hostili- ties. The Treaty of Versailles and its companion treaties, terminating the First World War, had in the eyes of many observers a similar character. A policy which aims at a peace setdement of this kind must, according to our definition, be called imperialistic. It is imperialistic because it tries to replace the prewar status quo, when approximately equal or at least not thoroughly unequal powers oppose each other, with a postwar status quo where the vic- tor becomes the permanent master of the vanquished. However, this very status of subordination, intended for permanency, may easily engender in the vanquished a desire to turn the scales on the victor, to overthrow the status quo created by his victory, and to change places with him in the hierarchy of power. In other words, the policy of imperialism pursued by the victor in anticipation of his victory will be likely to call forth a policy of imperialism on the part of the vanquished. If he is not forever ruined or else won over to the cause of the victor, the vanquished will want to regain what he has lost and to gain more if possible. The typical example of imperialism conceived as a reaction against the successful imperialism of others is German imperialism from 1935 to the end of the Second World War. The European status quo of 1914 was character- ized by a concert of great powers consisting of Austria, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, and Russia. The victory of the Allies and the peace trea- ties created a new status quo which was the fruition of the imperi^stic poli- cies of France. This new status quo established the hegemony of France, exer- cised in alliance with most of the newly created nations of Eastern and Central Europe. The German foreign policy from 1919 to 1935 operated seexningly within the framework of that status quo, while secretly preparing for its overthrow. It tried to win concessions for Germany, but it nevertheless accepted, at least for the time being and with mental reservations, the power relations estab- lished by the Treaty of Versailles. It did not openly challenge the power relations established by the Treaty of Versailles; rather, it aimed at adjust- ments which left the essence of those power relations intact. Such was par- ticularly the character of the “policy of fulfillment,” that is, fulfillment of the Treaty of Versailles, which the Republic of Weimar pursued. It was this attempt to improve the international position of Germany while accepting at least temporarily the status quo of Versailles which aroused the violent opposition of nationalists and Nazis. After the Nazis had come to power in 1933 and stabilized their regime domestically, they abrogated in 1935 the disarmament provisions of the Treaty of Versailles. In 1936, in violation of the same treaty, they occupied the Rhineland and declared void the demili- tarisation of the German territory adjacent to the German-French frontier. With these acts the imperialistic policy of Nazi Germany began in the open; for these acts were the first in a series which expressed Germany’s resolution ( 35 ) Politics among Nations no longer to accept the status quo of Versailles as basis for its foreign pol- icy, but to work for the overthrow of that status quo. Another typical situation that favors imperialistic policies is the existence of weak states or of politically empty spaces, which are attractive and acces- sible to a strong state. This is the situation out of which colonial imperialism grew. It is also the situation which made possible the transformation of the original federation of thirteen American states into a continental power. Na- poleon’s as well as Hitler’s imperialism had partly this character, the latter’s particularly in the period of the “blitzkrieg” of 1940, With the period of coloniahsm having come to an end and with two great power combinations opposing each other, imperiaHsm growing out of the relations between strong and weak nations and out of the attractiveness of power vacuums seems to be less likely in the future than it has been in the past. b) T hree Goals of Imperialism As imperialism grows out of three typical situations, so imperialism moves toward tluree typical objectives. The objective of imperialism can be the domination of the whole pohtically organized globe, that is, a world empire. Or it can be an empire or hegemony of approximately continental dimen- sions. Or it can be a strictly localized preponderance of power. In other words, the imperialistic poHcy may have no limits but those set by the power of resistance of the prospective victims. Or it may have geographically de- termined limits, such as the geographical boundaries of a continent. Or it may be limited by the localized aims of the imperialistic power itself. The outstanding historic examples of unlimited imperialism are the ex- pansionist policies of Alexander the Great, Rome, the Arabs in the seventh and eighth centuries, Napoleon I, and Hitler. They all have in common an urge toward expansion which knows no rational limits, feeds on its own successes, and, if not stopped by a superior force, will go on to the confines of the pohtical world.^® This urge will not be satisfied so long as there re- mains anywhere a possible object of domination, that is, a politically organ- ized group of men which by its very independence challenges the con- queror’s lust for power. It is, as we shall see, exactly the lack of moderation, the aspiration to conquer all that lends itself to conquest, characteristic of un- Knuted imp^ialism, which in the past has been the undoing of the imperial- istic policies of this kind. The only exception is Rome, for reasons which will be discussed later.^’' Hobto hac^ ^ classl::al aiisilysis this unlimited desire for power in the Levia- than, Chapter: X? pp. 4 ^^* ‘'So that in the first place, I put for a gen- eral! mclinadon ^ peipen^ and resdesse desire of Power after power, that ceas^ dndf in l^th. AM dbe csbse of this, is not alwayes that a man hopes for a more in- tenave delicti ,h#>alre?i(ly attained toj; or that he cannot be content with a moderate poweri but bocau^ ^.cani3^ ,a|^e and, means to live well, which he hath present, withcrtit the acquMu^' of Ahi ifem h^cc it is, that Kings, whose power is greatest; turn thek cndcavt«Sris or abroad by Wars: ar^ wfisn dKtt is done, there sucicecd^ fmm from new conqu^5 in others, oi ease and sensual pleasure^ Ih bar bmg fiaUio:^ from excdloice m^otne ai% or other aMty of the' ^ See bdowj ppt 403^ ^ Imperialism The type of geographically determined imperialism is most clearly pre- sented in the policies of European powers to gain a predominant position on the European continent. Louis XIV, Napoleon III, and William II are cases in point. The kingdom of Piedmont under Cavour aiming at the domi- nation of the Italian peninsula, the different participants in the Balkan Wars of 1912 and 1913 aspiring to hegemony in the Balkan peninsula, Mussolini trying to make the Mediterranean an Italian lake — these are examples of geographically determined imperialism on a less than continental basis. The American policy of the nineteenth century consisting in the gradual expan- sion of American rule over the better part of the North American continent is primarily, but not exclusively, determined by the geographic limits of a continent; for the United States has not attempted to bring Canada and Mex- ico under its domination although it certainly would have been able to do so. Continental imperialism is here modified by its limi tation to a localized section of the continent. The same mixed type of imperialism constitutes the essence of American foreign policy toward the geographic unit of the Western Hemisphere. The Monroe Doctrine, by postulating for the Western Hemisphere a policy of the status quo with regard to non-American powers, erected a protective shield behind which the United States could establish its predominance within that geographic region. Within these geographic limits, however, American pol- icy was not always uniformly imperialistic. In respect to the Central Ameri- can republics and certain countries of South America it was outright im- perialistic. But with regard to others, such as Argentina and Brazil, it sought rather to maintain the superiority of the United States which was the result of a kind of natural process rather than of a deliberate American policy. Even though the United States has had the power to impose its superiority upon these countries in form of actual hegemony, it chose not to do so. Here again we find within the general framework of a geographically limited policy a localized imperialism. The prototype of localized imperialism is to be found in the monarchical policies of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In the eighteenth cen- tury, Frederick the Great, Louis XV, Maria Theresa, Peter the Great, and Katherine II were the moving forces of this kind of foreign policy. In the nineteenth century, Bismarck was the master of this imperialistic policy which seeks to overthrow the status quo and to establish political preponder- ance within self-chosen limits. The difference between such a localized im- perialistic policy, continental imperialism, and unlimited imperialism is the difference between the foreign policies of Bismarck, William II, and Hitler. Bismarck wanted to establish Germany's preponderance in Central .Europe; William II, in all of Europe; Hitler, m the whole world. The traditional ob- jectives of Russian imperialism, such as control of Finland, Eastern Europe, the Balkans, the DarAmelles, and Iran, are also of a localized nature. The limits of tins type of imperialism are not, as in the case of the geo- graplncaUy Hjnited type, primarily a product of the objective facts of nature beyoi^ winch to ^ wbuld be either technically dfficult or politically imwise. On ^e contrary, tibey are primarily the result of a free choice among several .tkernsttiyes one of whkh might be a policy of the status quo, another cond- ( 37 ) Politics among Nations nental imperialism, a third localized imperialism. In the eighteenth century the third alternative recommended itself because the existing concert of powers, each of about the same strength, discouraged any attempt at conti- nental imperialism. The experience of Louis XIV showed how hazardous such at attempt could be. Furthermore, eighteenth-century imperialism was motivated mainly by considerations of monarchical power and glory, not by the mass emotions of modern nationalism. These considerations operated within a common framework of monarchical traditions and European civi- lization which imposed upon the actors on the political scene a moral re- straint necessarily absent in periods of religious or nationalistic crusades. In the nineteenth century, the element of choice characteristic of the policy of localized imperialism is paramount in the history of Bismarck’s foreign policy. First, he had to overcome the opposition of the Prussian con- servatives who favored a policy of the status quo for Prussia as over against Bismarck’s policy of localized imperialism aiming at hegemony within Ger- many. When victorious wars had made Bismarck’s policy feasible, it had to be defended against those who now wanted to go beyond the limits which Bismarck had set for Prussian and later German hegemony. The dismissal of Bismarck by William II in i8go naarked the end of localized and the be- ginning of at least a tendency toward continental imperialism as the foreign policy of Germany. c) Three Methods of Imperialism Just as there are three types of imperialism with respect to the situations from which imperialism typically arises, and three types of imperialism from the point of view of its objectives, so a triple distinction is to be made as re- gards the typical means employed by imperialistic policies. Accordingly, we must distinguish between military, economic, and cultural imperialism. A widespread popular misconception connects these three concepts with the objectives of imperialism. This misconception has its origin in the economic theories of imperialism as well as in the neglect of the power element in in- ternational relations referred to above.^® Military imperialism seeks military conquest; economic imperialism, economic exploitation of other peoples; cul- tural imperialism, the displacement of one culture by another. Imperialism, however, always aims at the overthrow of the status quo, that is, the reversal of the power relations between the imperialist nation and its prospective vic- tims. This immutable end is served by military, economic, and cultural means, either alone or in combination. It is with these means that we are dealing here. Military Imperialism. The most obvious, the most ancient, and also the crudest form of imperialism is military conquest. The great conquerors of all times have by the same token also been the great imperialists. The great ad- vantage of tins method from the point of view of the imperialistic nation lies in the fact that the new power relations resulting from military conquest can as a rule be changed only by anc^her war instigated by the vanquished na- See above?, pp. rs ff. (38) Imperialism tion, with the odds normally against the latter. Napoleon I might have relied upon the sole power of the ideas of the French Revolution to establish the hegemony of France in Europe and in the world, that is, he might have chosen cultural imperialism instead of military conquests. On the other hand, if he could make and hold military conquests, he would reach his imperial- istic goal more qxiickly and derive from the process of conquering that maxi- mum of personal satisfaction which victory in combat gives to the victor. Yet the very condition under which this statement is alone correct indicates the great drawback of military conquest as a method of imperialism — war is a gamble; it may be lost as well as won. The nation which starts wars for imperialistic ends may gain an empire and keep it, as Rome did. Or it may gain it and, in the process of trying to gain still more, lose it, as in Napo- leon’s case. Or it may gain it, lose it, and fall victim to the imperialism of others, as in the case of Nazi Germany and of Japan. Military imperialism is a gamble played for the highest stakes. Economic Imperialism. Economic imperialism is less obtrusive and also generally less effective than the military variety and is, as a rational method of gaining power, a product of modern times. As such, it is concomitant with the age of mercantilist and capitalist expansion. Its outstanding modern example is what is called “dollar imperialism.” Yet it has also played its role in the history of British and French imperialism. In the British domination of Portugal since the beginning of the eighteenth century economic control has played an important part. British supremacy in the Arab world is the re- sult of economic policies for which the term “oil diplomacy” is not misplaced. The predominant influence which France exercised in the period between the two world wars in countries such as Rumania was to a considerable ex- tent based upon economic factors. The common characteristic of the policies wliich we call economic im- perialism is their tendency, on the one hand, to overthrow the status quo by changing the power relations between the imperialist nations and others and, on the other, to do so, not through the conquest of territory, but by way of economic control. If a nation cannot or will not conquer territory for the purpose of establishing its mastery over other nations, it can try to achieve the same end by establishing its control over those who control tie territory. The Central American republics, for instance, are all sovereign states; they possess all the attributes of sovereignty and display the paraphernalia of sov- ereignty. Their economic life being dmost completely dependent upon ex- ports to the United States, these nations are unable to pursue for any length of time poheies of any kind, domestic or foreign, to which the United States would object. The nature of economic imperialism as an unobtrusive, indirect, but fairly effective method of gaining and maintaining domination over other nations is particularly striking where two rival imperialisms compete with economic means for control over the same government. The century-old competition between Great Britain and Russia for control of Iran, though carried on for a long time predominantly by military means, may serve as an example. Pro- fessor P. E. Roberts describe this situation in Iran, then called Persia, be- fore the First World W^: Politics among Nations Russia presses on her from the north, Great Britain from the south, though the influence of the two powers is very different. Great Britain holds in her hands the bulk of the foreign trade of southern Persia, and claims a general control of the whole Asiatic coastline from Aden eastwards to Baluchistan. . . . Great Brit- ain has never coveted territorial possessions. . . . The development of navigation on the Volga and the construction of the Transcaspian railway have given to Russia the bulk of the trade with northern Persia. But the commercial weapons of Russia are a monopoly and prohibition. She has laid an interdict upon the making of railroads in Persian territory, and has often opposed measures which might regenerate the country.^® Only ‘‘the commercial and political rivalry of Great Britain” seemed then, as does now that of the United States, to bar the way to the complete absorp- tion of Iran into the Russian orbit. To the factors prevalent before the First World War must be added the competitive exploitation of oil concessions and the competition for new ones in Northern and Southern Iran which exist today. During the period of eco- nomic and political rivalry between Great Britain and Russia in that region the foreign policies, and frequently also the domestic ones, of the Iranian governments have faithfully reflected the intensity of the economic, and sometimes military, pressures which the rival powers brought to bear. When Russia promised or granted economic advantages which Great Britain failed to match, or when Russia threatened to withdraw advantages it had granted, Russian influence would increase, and vice versa. Russia does not dare realize its territorial ambitions with regard to Iran. Great Britain has none. But both try to control the Iranian government which, in turn, controls oil fields as well as the road to India. Cultural Imperialism.^® What we suggest calling cultural imperialism is the most subtle and, if it were ever to succeed by itself alone, the most suc- cessful of imperialistic policies. It aims not at the conquest of territory or at the control of economic life, but at the conquest and control of the minds of men as an instrument for changing the power relations between two nations. If one could imagine the culture and, more particularly, the political ideol- ogy, with all its concrete imperialistic objectives, of State A conquering the minds of all the citizens determining the policies of State B, State A would have won a more complete victory and would have founded its supremacy on more stable grounds than any military conqueror or economic master. State A would not need to threaten or employ military force or use economic pressure in order to achieve its ends; for that end, the subservience of State B to its will, would have already been realized by the persuasiveness of a su- perior culture and a more attractive political ideology. This is, howevcr^ a hypothetical case. In actuality, cultural imperialism Cmnhridge (Popular Mtion), XII, 491. 20 What wfe descrihci ihcqtimtly tmder the mme of ideologkal imperialism, the term ^ coBtjpst of political philosophies. Two reasons, however, ^ 'hwe k ^^cnhiiiral”^ inst^. Cte the one hand, the term and- other- wise, which serve as mcan?^ the term ‘'idcologicar in Chapter V in its’ specie con- fusion if we would use the same term here ^ ( 40 ) Imperialism falls short of a victory so complete that other methods of imperialism would be superfluous. The typical role which cultural imperialism plays in modern times is subsidiary to the other methods. It softens up the enemy, it prepares the ground for military conquest or economic penetration. Its typical mod- ern manifestation is the fifth column, and one of its two outstanding modem successes is to be found in the operations of the Nazi fifth columns in Europe before the outbreak and at the beginning of the Second World War. Its success was most spectacular in Austria where in 1938 a Nazi-minded gov- ernment invited the German troops to occupy their country. Its success was still considerable in France and Norway where a number of influential citi- zens, inside and without the government, had become ‘‘Quislings,” that is, had been converted to the Nazi ideology and its international objectives. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that these countries were already partly con- quered by means of cultural imperialism before military conquest finished the task. Great Britain, by interning at the outbreak of the Second World War all known Nazis and Nazi sympathizers within its borders, paid trib- ute to the danger which Nazi methods of cultural penetration presented for the prospective victims of German imperialism. The other outstanding example of cultural imperialism in our time, ante dating and surviving the Nazi fifth column, is the Communist Interna^ tional. Directed officially from Moscow, it guides and controls the Com- munist parties in all countries and sees to it that the policies pursued by the national Communist parties conform with the foreign policy of the Soviet Union. To the extent that Communist parties gain influence in particular nations, the influence of the Soviet Union over these nations increases, and where Communist parties gain control of national governments, the Russian government, controlling the Communist parties, controls these national gov- ernments. The struggle for the control of Germany is instructive in this respect. The main instrument of the Soviet Union in this struggle was the Communist party, called Socialist Unity party, in the Russian zone of occupation. Through victory in elections, Ais party was to have transformed the tem- porary military power of the Soviet Union in its zone into a permanent he- gemony. With the defeat of the Communist party in a number of elections, the cultural phase of Russian imperialism in Germany came to an at least temporary end. The Soviet Union had to devise other methods to reach the imperialistic goal of the domination of Germany, or, prompted by the failure of the means employed, had to change the goal itself. The cultural imperialism of totalitarian governments is well disciplined and highly organized; for these governments are able, because of their totali- tarian character, to exert strict control and guiding influence over the thoughts and actions of their citizens and foreign sympathizers. While the t^h^ue of cultural imperialism has been perfected by the totalitarians and has been forged into the effective political weapon of the fifth column, the of cultural sympathy and political afiinities as weapons of imperialism is almost as c^d as imperialism itself. The history of ancient Greece and of Itsdy in the period of the Renaissance is replete with episodes in which im- petlaEistic policies w^e executed through association with political sympa- ( 4O toutics among Nations thizers in the enemy ranks rather than through military conquests. In mod- ern times religious organizations, associated or identified with governments, have played an important role in imperialistic policies of a cultural char- acter, Typical in this respect are the imperialistic policies of Czarist Russia which used the dual position of the Czar as head of the Russian government and of the Orthodox Church for the purpose of extending the power of Rus- sia to the followers of the Orthodox faith in foreign countries. That Russia was able in the nineteenth cenmry to succeed Turkey as the preponderant power in the Balkans is largely due to the cultural imperialism which used the Orthodox Church as a weapon of Russian foreign policy. In the secular field, la mission civilisatrice of France has been a potent weapon of French imperialism. The deliberate use of the attractive qualities of French civilization for the purposes of French foreign policy was before the First World War one of the cornerstones of French imperialism in the countries of the Eastern Mediterranean area. The wave of public sympathy throughout the world, which came to the aid of France in both world wars, was the fruit of cultural imperiaHsm, which in turn strengthened the French mihtary imperialism of the later, victorious years of both world wars. Cul- tural imperialism in the form of the diffusion of a national culture is in- comparably less mechanical and disciplinary, but not necessarily less effec- tive, than the totalitarian kind. While the latter makes use primarily of the ajB5nities of political ideology, the former impresses the intellectually influen- tial groups of a foreign country with the attractive qualities of a civilization until these groups tend to find the political objectives and methods of that civilization equally attractive. We have already pointed out that cultural imperialism generally plays a role subsidiary to the military and economic varieties. Similarly, while eco- nomic imperialism sometimes stands by itself, it frequently supports mili- tary policies. On the other hand, while military imperialism is able to con- quer without the support of nonmilitary metiiods, no dominion can last which is founded upon nothing but military force. Thus the conqueror will not only prepare for military conquests by economic and cultural pene- tration. He will also found his empire not upon military force alone, but pri- marily upon the control of the livelihood of the conquered and upon the domination of their minds. And it is in that most subtle, yet most important, task that, with the exception of Rome, all the great imperialists, from Alex- ander to Napoleon and Hitler, have failed. Their failure to conquer the minds of those whom they had conquered otherwise proved to be the un- doing of their empires. The ever renewed coalitions against Napoleon, the revohs of the Poles against the Russians throughout the nineteenth century, the struggle of the underground against Hider, and the fight of Ireland and of India for fr^dom from British rule are the classic examples in modern times of that ultimate problem which few imperialistic policies have been able to solve. linperialism 4. HOW TO DETECT AND COUNTER AN IMPERIALISTIC POLICY The preceding considerations lead to the fundamental question which confronts the public officials responsible for the conduct of foreign aj0Fairs as well as citizens trying to form an intelligent opinion on international issues. This question concerns the character of the foreign policy pursued by another nation and, in consequence, the kind of foreign policy which ought to be adopted with regard to it Is the foreign policy of the other nation im- perialistic, or is it not? In other words, does it seek to overthrow the existing distribution of power, or does it only contemplate adjustments within the general framework of the existing status quo? The answer to that question has determined the fate of nations, and the wrong answer has often meant deadly peril or actual destruction; for upon the correctness of that answer depends the success of the foreign policy derived from it. While it would be fatal to counter imperialistic designs with measures appropriate to a policy of the status quo, it would be only a little less risky to deal with a policy seeking adjustments within the status quo as though it were imperialistic. The classic example of the former error is the appeasement of Germany in the late thirties. The other error has been influential in the formation of the foreign policies of the great European powers in the decades before the out- break of the First World War. a) Appeasement Appeasement is a foreign policy which attempts to do with respect to im- perialism what compromise does with respect to a policy of the status quo. It is the transfer of a policy of compromise from a political environment favorable to the preservation of the status quo, where it belongs, to an en- vironment exposed to imperialistic attack, where it does not belong. One might say that appeasement is a corrupted policy of compromise, made er- roneous by mistaking a policy of imperialism for a policy of the status quo. It is important to note, in view of the contemporary tendency to use the term “appeasement’' indiscriminately as a term of opprobrium, that appease- ment and imperialism are logically correlated. In other wor^, a policy of appeasement on the one side presupposes a policy of imperialism on the other side. If we say that State A pursues with respect to State B a policy of appeasement, we are at the same time saying that State B pursues with re- spect to State A a policy of imperialism. If die latter statement is incorrect, the former is meaningless. The appeaser sees in the successive demands of the imperialistic power rationally limited objectives which in themselves are compatible with the maintenance of the status quo and must be disposed of either on their intrin- sic merits or by way of compromise. His error lies in not seeing that the suc- cessive demands, far from being satisfied with obtaining their professed ob- f ectives> are but the links of a chain at the end of which stands the overthrow df the status quo. The conciliation of antagonistic policies on the basis of ( 43 ) Politics among Nations legal or moral principles or through a diplomatic bargain is indeed the great task o£ a diplomacy which operates on both sides within the recognized lim- its o£ the status quo. Since both sides accept the existing distribution of power, both sides can afford to settle their difierences either on the basis of principle or through compromise; for whatever the settlement may be, it will not affect the basic distribution of power between them. The situation is, however, different when one or both sides have impe- rialistic designs, that is, to bring about a fundamental change in the existing distribution of power. Then the settlement of the respective demands on the basis of legal or moral principles or through bargaining methods, in disre- gard of the influence the settlement might have upon the distribution of power, amounts to a piecemeal change in the power relations in favor of the imperialistic nation. For the latter will always be favored by compromise and wiU be careful in choosing the grounds for its demands so that principle will favor it, too. Ultimately, these piecemeal changes will add up to the reversal of tie power relations in favor of the imperialistic nation. The imperialistic nation will have won a bloodless, yet decisive, victory over an opponent who did not know the difference between compromise and appeasement. Germany started its imperialistic policies openly in 1935 with the re- pudiation of the disarmament provisions of the Treaty of Versailles, point- ing to the failure of the other nations to disarm and to the increase in French and Russian armaments. Taken by itself and in disregard of an ulterior ob- jective, the argument was not without merit in the light of the legal prin- ciple of equality. Apart from paper protests and paper alliances, the only tangible reaction to this first German step on the road to empire was the conclusion three months later of the Anglo-German Naval Agreement in which Great Britain conceded to Germany a naval force of not more than 35 per cent that of Great Britain. Both the reoccupation of the Rhineland by Germany in 1936 and its denunciation of the international control of its waterways later in the same year found support in the legal principle of equality, if one accepted the professed rational limits of the demands as the actual ones. The annexation of Austria in 1938 could easily be defended by the principle of national self-determination which had also been one of the professed war aims of the Allied powers in the First World War. Later in 1938 Germany demanded the German parts of Czechoslovakia. The Munich settlement granted the German demands. When Hider, shortly before the ^tdement of Munich, declared that the German parts of Czecho- slovakia were tibe last territorial demands Germany had to make in Europe, he was really saying that the annexation of these territories was an end in itsdf, self-contained within its own rational limits. He pretended that German policy op^ted within the geoeral framework of the European status quo and was not intent upon overArdwing' k, and that Ae oAer European powers ought to view fomgtft policy in Aat light and deal wiA it corre- spondingly. It was only by & M^eh 1939, five monAs before Ae outbreak of the Second ,5^ aimexation of whole of powers Aat what 'had (44) " Imperialism been from the beginning a policy of imperialism, imperialism of continental, if not world, dimensions. At that moment, the distribution of power in Europe was already changed in favor of Germany. It was changed to such an extent that a further in- crease in German power could not be prevented short of war. Germany had become strong enough to challenge openly the status quo of Versailles, and the prestige, that is, the reputation for power, of the nations identified with the order of Versailles had sunk so low that they were unable to defend what was left of the status quo by mere diplomatic means. They could either surrender or go to war. Thus the appeasers of 1938 became either the Quis- lings (if they deemed resistance to German imperialism hopeless) or the heroes of 1939-45 (if they thought that resistance was morally required re- gardless of the outcome or that it had even a chance to succeed). The final catastrophe and the tragic choices with which that catastrophe confronted the actors on the international scene were predetermined by that initial error which mistook a poHcy of imperialism for a policy of the status quo. h) Fear The other fundamental error into which those responsible for the conduct of foreign affairs are most likely to fall is the reverse of the one thus far dis- cussed. It mistakes a policy of the status quo for a policy of imperialism. By doing so. State A resorts to measures, such as armaments, fortifications, alli- ances, with respect to State B. The latter, in turn, resorts to countermeasures, for it now sees State A embark upon a policy of imperialism. These counter- measures strengthen the initial misapprehension, on the part of State A, of State B’s policies, and so forth. Ultimately, either both countries correct their errors with regard to their respective policies or else the ever increasing mu- tual suspicions, feeding upon each other, end in war. Out of an initial error there develops a vicious circle where two or more nations, each only seeking to preserve Ae status quo, but each convinced of the imperialistic designs of the others, find support for their own errors of judgment and action in the errors of the others. In such a situation nothing but an almost superhuman effort will deflect the trend of events from a catastrophic denouement. The history of European diplomacy between the Franco-German War of 1870 and the outbreak of the First World War in 1914 illustrates this situa- tion. After the victorious conclusion of the War of 1870 and the foundation of the German Empire, German foreign policy was mainly defensive. It was concerned with the maintenance of the position which Germany had ac- quired in Europe and with the danger, Bismarck’s famous chauchemar des coalitions, that a hostile coalition, especially between France and Russia, might challenge that position. The Triple Alliance between Germany, Aus- tria, and Italy was the instrument of that defensive policy. It was served also by the Reinsurance Treaty with Russia in which Russia and Germany pledged each other neutrality if either became involved in war with a third power. After ^he dismissal of Bismarck in 1890, William II decided to let the Re- insurance Tr^fcy lap$^ prinmrily b^u^ of the fear that its continuation Politics among Nations might alienate Austria and thus destroy the Triple Alliance. Russia then (in 1891 and 1894) entered into agreements with France which were defensive in character and obviously inspired by fear of the intentions of the Triple Alliance. The provisions of the Military Convention of 1894, in particular, anticipated the possible transformation of the Triple Alliance from a defen- sive into an imperialistic instrument. Thus the Convention was to remain in force as long as the Triple Alliance. The main provisions of the Conven- tion made the following stipulations: If France were attacked by Germany or by Italy supported by Germany, Russia would give military aid to France. France would do the same in respect to Russia if the latter were attacked by Germany or by Austria supported by Germany. In case of the mobihzation of the forces of the Triple Alliance, France and Russia would mobihze their forces without delay. First, the fear of hostile alliances led to the formation of the Triple Alli- ance. Then, the fear of the latter’s dissolution led to the severance, on the part of Germany, of the friendly relations with Russia. Finally, the fear of the intentions of the Triple Alliance brought about the Franco-Russian Alliance. It was the mutual fears of these two defensive alliances and the gen- eral insecurity created by the erratic character of the imperialistic utterances of William II which inspired the diplomatic maneuvers during the two dec- ades before the First World War. These maneuvers sought either new com- binations destructive of existing alignments or the support of powers, thus far aloof, for the existing alliances. In the end, the general conflagration in 1914 was made inevitable by the fear that the other side would change the power relations decisively in its favor if not forestalled by such a change in one^s own favor. In the two antagonistic blocs, Russia and Austria especially were animated by this fear. The fear of the other’s suspected imperialism bred imperialism in reaction, which, in turn, gave substance to the original fear. c ) Five Difficulties of the Problem Appeasement, the attempt to compromise with an imperialism not rec- ognized as such, and the fear which creates imperialism where there is none — these are the two wrong answers, the two fatal mistakes which an in- telligent foreign policy must try to avoid. Such an intelligent foreign policy, which rax)gnizes imperialism where it exists and determines its specific na- ture, is coiSronted with five difficulties, and they are all of a formidable character. The first and most fundamental difficulty has been pointed out by Buk- harin, the foremost exponent of the Communist doctrine from Lenin’s death to the great purges in the mid-thirties. He tried to prove the absurdity of a noneconomic explanation of imparialism by summarizing it thus: ‘Imperial- ism is a poHcy of conquest. But not every policy of conqiaest is imperial- ism.” The statement is. ind^ cwrect and squares with what we have said previously about the distinction between a policy of conquest operating N. 1 . Bukharis, ImperisiUim •fmd Seemtmy (l&Tr York: Istersasoikal Publishers, 1929), p. IT4. (46) Imperialism within the existing status quo and one seeking to overthrow it."“ To make this distinction in a concrete situation presents a formidable difficulty. How was one to know with any degree of certainty what Hitler’s ultimate objec- tives were? From 1935 on, he made demand after demand, each of which in itself could be fully reconciled with a policy of the status quo, yet each of which might be a stepping-stone on the road to empire. The nature of the individual steps in themselves was ambiguous and, therefore, did not reveal the actual nature of the policy of which they formed the elements. Where could one, then, have found an answer to our question ? One might have found it, however tentative and open to doubt, in two of the three typical situations which we said before favored imperialistic policies. The desire to overthrow the status quo of the Treaty of Versailles had been from the very beginning one of the main points of the Nazi pro- gram which in 1933 became the official program of the German government. In view of this objective, one might have been able to foresee that the Ger- man government would pursue a foreign policy seeking its realization as soon as it had a chance to do so, that is, as soon as the nations identified with the status quo of the Treaty of Versailles were no longer able or wilHng to defend that status quo effectively. This initial and fundamental difficulty is aggravated by the fact that a policy which starts out seeking adjustments within the existing distribution of power may change its character either in the course of its success or in the process of its frustration. In other words, the ease with which the original objectives are reached within the established distribution of power may suggest to the expanding nation that it is dealing with weak or irresolute antagonists and that a change in the existing power relations can be achieved without great effort or risk. Thus the appetite may come with the eating, and a successful policy of expansion within the status quo may overnight trans- form itself into a policy of imperialism. The same may be true of an imsuc- cessful policy of expansion 'within the status quo. A nation frustrated in its limited objectives, which do not seem to be attainable within the existing power relations, concludes that it must diange these power relations if it is to make sure that it gets what it wants. Where a policy is couched in purely territorial terms, the nature of the territorial objectives will sometimes indicate the nature of the policy pursued. The objective may, for instance, be a strategic point, the acquisition of which may in itselE change the power relations in that particular region. No such help can be expected and, therefore, an additional difficulty must be met where a foreign policy uses mainly the vehicles of economic or cultural pene- tration. These methods, too, are ambiguous in view of the character of the policy which they serve, but their ambiguity is much greater than that of the military method which has defined territorial objectives. Economic and cultural expansion are generally without a clearly defined locale. They ad- dress themselves to a wide variety of ill-defined persons. And, furthermore, they are practiced on a wide scale by an indifferent number of nations. To identify economic or cultural expansion as instruments of imperialism in ( 47 ) ^ $€« above, pp. 25 ff. Politics among Nations contradistinction to identical policies which have their ends in themselves is another difficult task. Here again reference to the typical situations favorable to imperialistic policies will be of help. The active economic policies which Switzerland has been pursuing in the international sphere have never had an imperialistic tinge. British foreign- trade policies at times have had an imperialistic character with respect to cer- tain countries. Today their end is in the main purely economic, that is, they try to obtain for the inhabitants of the British Isles the necessities of life. They aim at economic survival through favorable trade balances, not at the main- tenance or acquisition of political power over foreign nations. It is only with regard to the Near East, certain regions of Western Europe, and Germany that British economic policies are subordinated to political considerations. Some of these political considerations might have, or under certain condi- tions will acquire, an imperialistic character. The cultural penetration of Spanish-America by Spain was generally bound to be without imperialistic significance; for the military weakness of Spain in relation to the United States forbade any thought of changing the power relations in Latin America in Spain’s favor. The cultural mission of France has been in certain countries and at certain times an end in itself. Under different circumstances and in other countries it has been subordinated to imperialistic aims. Here, too, the character of economic and cultural ex- pansion may change with a change in the political situation. When the oppor- tunity beckons, the “reservoir of good will” or a preponderant position in the foreign trade of another country, which a nation has acquired as ends in themselves, may suddenly become sources of political power and potent in- struments in the struggle for power. But when circumstances change again they may lose that quality just as suddenly. When all these difficulties have been overcome and a foreign policy has been correctly identified as imperialistic, yet another difficulty presents itself. It concerns the kind of imperialism with which one has to deal. A successful localized imperialism may find in its success an incentive to spread wider and wider until it becomes continental or world-wide. More particularly, a country may find it necessary, in order to stabilize and secure a local pre- ponderance, to acquire preponderance of power on an ever greater scale, and it may feel fully secure only in a world-wide empire. There is frequendy in imperialism a dynamism, rationalized in aggressive or defensive terms, which proceeds from a limited region to a continent and from there to the world. The Macedonian Empire under Philip and Alexander and the Napoleonic imperialism were of this kind. On the other hand, a policy of world-wide impeiialisin^ Opposed by superior force, may retreat to a geographically de- termined r^mi or be satisfied witlv local preponderance. Or it may lose its imperialistic tendencies altogether and transform itself into a policy of the status quo. The cfevelopma:it from geographically determined to localized imperialism and . from li^e to the permanent loss of imperialistic tendencies altogether can be Wiped in oi Swedish imperialism in the seven- teenth and eighteenth c^i^Wes* ; Thus the evaluation ci impe^il4b^ tendencies and, con^uandy? of the policies countering them is never Both policies and coumterpoScies Imperialism are ever subject to re-evaluation and reformulation. However, the framers of foreign policy are always exposed to the temptation to take a particular pat- tern of imperialistic expansion or of any other type of foreign policy as per- manent and to pursue a foreign policy adapted to that pattern even when that pattern has changed. Yet a world-wide imperialism requires counter- measures different from those which are adequate for one that is localized^ and a nation which counters the latter with measures appropriate to the* former will bring on the very dangers which it tries to avoid. In this necessity to recognize quickly a change in the imperialistic policy of another nation lies another difficulty and, in the failure to adapt one’s own foreign policy quickly to such change, another source of error. Finally, imperialism poses a problem which it shares with all foreign policy, presenting it, however, in a particularly acute manner, that is, the detection of the true nature of a foreign policy behind its ideological dis- guises. The difficulties of recognition inherent in imperialism itself are aug- mented by the fact that a foreign policy rarely presents itself for what it is, and a policy of imperialism almost never reveals its true face in the pro- nouncements of its representatives. The reasons why this must be so and the typical shapes these ideologies take will be discussed in Chapter V of this book. How difficult it is to distinguish between the appearance of a foreign policy and its essence will become apparent in the course of that discussion. ( 49 ) CHAPTER IV The Struve for Power: Policy of Prestige The policy of prestige has rarely been recognized in modern political litera- ture for what it is: the third of the basic manifestations of the struggle for power on the international scene. The reasons for this neglect are twofold. The policy of prestige has used as one of its main vehicles the aristocratic forms of social intercourse as practiced in the diplomatic world. The diplo- matic world, with its ceremonial rules, its quarrels about rank and prece- dence, and its empty formalisms, is the very antithesis of the democratic way of life. Even those who were not fully persuaded that power politics was nothing but an aristocratic atavism were inclined to see in the policy of pres- tige as practiced by diplomats an anachronistic game, frivolous and farcical and devoid of any organic connection with the business of international politics. Prestige, in contrast to maintenance and acquisition of power, is but rarely an end in itself. More frequently, the policy of prestige is one of the instru- mentalities through which the policies of the status quo and of imperialism try to achieve their ends. Thus subordination to the latter as a means to an end could easily lead to the conclusion that it was not important and did not deserve systematic discussion. Actually, the policy of prestige, however exaggerated and absurd its uses, may have been at times, is as intrinsic an element of the relations between na- tions as the desire for prestige is of the relations between individuals. Here again it becomes obvious that international and domestic politics are but dif- ferent manifestations of one and the same thing. In both spheres, the desire for social recognition is a potent dynamic force determining social relations and creating social institutions. The individual seeks confirmation, on the part of his fellows, of the evaluation he puts upon himself. It is only in the tribute which others pay to his goodness, intelligence, and power that he be- comes fully aware of, and can fully enjoy, what he deems to be his superior qualities. It is only through his reputation for excellence that he can gain the measure of security, wealth, and power which he regards to be his due. Thus, in the struggle for existence and power, which is, as it were, the raw ( 50 ) Policy of Prestige material o£ the social world, what others think about us is as important as what we actually are. The image in the mirror of our fellows’ minds, that is, our prestige, rather than the original, of which the image in the mirror may be but the distorted reflection, determines what we are as members of society. . It is, then, a necessary and important task to see to it that the mental picture which the other members of society form of one’s position in society at least represents faithfully the actual situation, if it does not excel it. This is exactly what the poHcy of prestige is about. Its purpose is to impress upon the other nations the power one’s own nation actually possesses or which it believes, or wants the other nations to believe, it possesses. Two main in- strumentalities serve this purpose: diplomatic ceremonial in the widest mean- ing of the term, and the display of military force. I. DIPLOMATIC CEREMONIAL Two episodes from the life of Napoleon show clearly the symbols through which the power position of a ruler, representing a nation, expresses itself in ceremonial forms. One shows Napoleon at the summit of his power, the other indicates that he has left that summit behind. In 1804, when Napoleon was about to be crowned Emperor by the Pope, each of the two rulers had a vital interest in demonstrating his superiority over the other, Napoleon was successful in asserting his superiority, not only by putting the crown on his head with his own hands instead of letting the Pope do it, but also by a ceremonial device which the Duke of Rovigo, one of Napoleon’s generals and minister of police, reports in his memoirs: He went to meet the Pope on the road to Nemours. To avoid ceremony, the pretext of a hunting-party was assumed; the attendants, with his equipages, were in the forest. The Emperor came on horseback and in a hunting-dress, with his retinue. It was at the half-moon on the top of the hill that the meet- ing took place. There the Pope’s carriage drew up; he got out at the left door in his white costume: the ground was dirty; he did not like to step upon it with his white silk shoes, but was obliged to do so at last. Napoleon alighted to receive him. They embraced; and the Emperor’s car- riage, which had been purposely driven up, was advanced a few paces, as if from the carelessness of the driver; but men were posted to hold the two doors open: at the moment of getting in, the Emperor took the right door, and an oflScer of the court handed the Pope to the left, so that they entered the car- riage by the two doors at the same time. The Emperor naturally seated himself on the right; and this first step decided without negotiation upon the etiquette to be observed during the whole time that the Pope was to remain at Paris.^ The other episode occurred in 1813 in Dresden, after the defeat in Russia, when Napoleon was threatened by a coalition of all of Europe, a coalition which shortly afterward would inflict upon him the disastrous defeat of I^pzig. In an interview lasting nine hours, Napoleon tried to restrain the ^ Memoirs of the J>u\e of Ropigo (London, 1828), I, P?irt II, 73. ( 51 ) Politics among Nations Austrian Chancellor, Metternich, from joining the coalition against him. Metternich treated Napoleon as a doomed man, while Napoleon acted like the master of Europe, which he had been for a decade. After a particularly stormy exchange, Napoleon, as if to test his superiority, dropped his hat, ex- pecting the spokesman of the hostile coalition to pick it up. When Metternich feigned not to see it, it must have become clear to both men that a decisive change had occurred in the prestige and power of the victor of Austerlitz and Wagram. Metternich summed up the situation when he told Napoleon at the end of the discussion that he was sure Napoleon was lost. The relations between diplomats lend themselves naturally as instruments for a policy of prestige, for diplomats are the symbolic representatives of their respective countries.^ The respect shown to them is really shown to their countries; the respect shown by them is really shown by their countries; the insult they give or receive is really given or received by their countries. His- tory abounds with examples illustrating these points and the importance at- tributed to them in international politics. In most courts it was the custom to have foreign ambassadors introduced to the sovereign by special officials while royal ambassadors were introduced by princes. When in 1698 Louis XIV had the Ambassador of the Republic of Venice introduced by die Prince of Lorraine, the Grand Council of Venice asked the French Ambassador to assure the King that the Republic of Venice would be forever grateful for that honor and the Council sent a special letter of thanks to Louis XIV. Through that gesture France indicated that it regarded the Republic of Venice to be as powerful as a kingdom, and it was for that new prestige that Venice showed its gratitude. At the papal court the Pope used to receive the diplomatic representatives of different types of states in different halls. Ambassadors of crowned heads and of Venice were received in the Sola Reggia, the representatives of other princes and republics in the Sala Ducale, The Republic of Genoa is said to have offered the Pope millions in order to have its representatives received in the Sala Reggia instead of in the Sala Ducale. The Pope, however, refused to grant the request be- cause of the opposition of Venice which did not want to be treated on equal terms with Genoa. Equality of treatment would have meant equality of prestige, that is, reputation for power, and to this the state superior in prestige could not consent. At the end of the eighteenth century, it was still the custom at the court of Constantinople that ambassadors and members of their suites, who repre- sented themselves to the Sultan, were grabbed by the arms by court officials and their heads bent down. After the customary exchange of speeches between the ambassador and the Wesir, the court officials exclaimed: ‘Traise be to the Eternal that the infidels must come and give homage to our gloriously bril- liant sceptre.” The humiliation of the representatives of foreign countries was intended to symbolize the inferiority in power of the countries they represented. Under President Theodore Roosevelt, ail diplomatic representatives were received together on the first dE January in order to present their congratula- 2 For the different functions of diploiBoMs, Mow, Chapter XXVIH. ( 52 ) Policy of Prestige tions to the President. President Taft changed the arrangement and ordered that ambassadors and ministers be received separately. When the Spanish Minister, who had not been informed of this change, appeared on January i, 1910, at the White House for the reception of the ambassadors he was re- fused admission. Whereupon the Spanish government recalled the minister and protested to the government of the United States. A nation which had just lost its empire and passed to the rank of a third-rate power insisted at least upon the prestige commensurate with its former greatness. In 1946, when the Foreign Minister of the Soviet Union was seated at a vic- tory celebration in Paris in the second row, while the representatives of other great powers sat in the first, he left the meeting in protest. A nation which for long had been a pariah in the international community had attained the unquestioned position of a great power and insisted upon the prestige due to its new status. Since, at the Potsdam Conference of 1945, Churchill, Stalin, and Truman were unable to agree on who should enter the conference room first, they entered through three different doors at the same time. These three political leaders symbolized the respective power of their nations. Conse- quently, the precedence accorded to one of them would have given his nation a prestige of superiority over the other two which the latter were not willing to concede. Since they claimed equality of power, they were bound to be con- cerned with upholding the prestige in which that equality found its symbolic expression. The policy of prestige as the policy of demonstrating the power a nation has or thinks it has, or wants other nations to believe it has, fin^ a particularly fruitful field in the choice of a locality for international meetings. When many antagonistic claims compete with each other and cannot be reconciled through compromise, the meeting place is frequently chosen in a country which does not participate in the competition for prestige. For this reason, The Hague in the Netherlands and Geneva in Switzerland have been favored meeting places for international conferences. Frequently, the shift from one favorite meeting place to another symbolizes a shift in the preponderance of power. During the better part of the nineteenth century, most international conferences were held in Paris. But the Congress of Berlin of 1878, held in the capital of the re-established German Empire after its victory over France, demonstrated to all the world Germany’s new prestige of being the pre- ponderant power on the European continent. Originally, the Soviet Union opposed the choice of Geneva as headquarters of the United Nations; for Geneva, the former headquarters of the League of Nations, was symbolic of the low point in Russian prestige in the period between the two world wars. When the distribution of power within the United Nations, meeting in New York, showed the Soviet Union to be in a permanent minority, confronted with a stable Anglo-American bloc, it advocated the transfer of the head- quarters of the United Nations to Geneva, which carried no symbolic refer- ence to Anglo-American supremacy. Normally a nation which has a preponderance of power in a particular field or region insists that international conferences dealing with matters con- cerning that fidd or region meet within, or at least close to, its territory. Thus most international conferences dealing with maritime questions have Politics among Nations been held in London. International conferences concerned with Japan have met either in Washington or in Tokyo. However, most international con- ferences concerned with the future of Europe after the Second World War have been held either on Russian territory, such as Moscow and Yalta, or in territory occupied by the Soviet Union, such as Potsdam, or in the proximity of Russian territory, such as Teheran. Yet, by the end of 1947, the political situation had changed to such an extent that President Truman could de- clare with considerable emphasis that he would meet Mr. Stalin nowhere but in Washington.® 2 . DISPLAY OF MILITARY FORGE Besides the practices of diplomacy, the policy of prestige uses military demonstrations as means to achieve its purpose. Since military strength is the obvious measure of a nation^s power, its demonstration serves to impress the others with that nation’s power. Military representatives of foreign na- tions are, for instance, invited to peacetime army and navy maneuvers, not in order to let them in on military secrets, but in order to impress them and their governments with the military preparedness of the particular nation. The invitation of foreign observers to the two atomic bomb tests in the Pacific in 1946 was intended to fulfill a similar purpose. The foreign observer was, on the one hand, to be impressed by the naval might of the United States and with American technological achievements. “Twenty-one observ- ers from the United Nations Atomic Energy Control Commission,’^ reported the New Yor\ Times, . . agreed today that the United States was bomb- ing a group of ships larger than many of the world’s navies.”^ On the other hand, the foreign observer was to see for himself what the atomic bomb could do above and imder water and how superior in military strength a nation which had the monopoly of the atomic bomb was boimd to be in comparison with nations which did not have it. The combination of these factors would give the United States the prestige of being the most powerful nation on earth. Because of the high mobility of navies, which are able to bring the flag and the power of a nation to the four corners of the globe, and because of the great impressiveness of their appearance, naval demonstrations have in the past been a favorite instrument of the policy of prestige. The visit in 1891 of the French fleet to the Russian port of Kronstadt and the return visit in 1893 of the Russian fleet to the French port of Toulon mark a turning point in the political history of the world; for these mutual visits demonstrated to the world a political and military solidarity between France and Russia which was not long in crystallizing into a political and military alliance. The peri- odical dispatch, on the part of the great maritime powers, of naval squadrons to the ports of the Far East demonstrated to the peoples of that region the superiority of Western power. The United States has from time to time sent ® Netv yor\ Times, December 19, 1947, p. l. * July 1, 1946, p, 3. Policy of Prestige warsHps to Latin-American ports in order to remind the nations concerned that in the Western Hemisphere American naval power is supreme. In colonial or semicolonial regions^ whenever the claims of a maritime power were challenged either by the natives or by competing powers, these nations would dispatch one or several warships to the region as symbolic representa- tives of the power of the country. A famous example of this kind of policy of prestige is the visit which William II paid in 1905 on board a German warship to Tangier, the capital of Morocco, for the purpose of counteracting French claims with regard to that state. The Mediterranean cruises which American naval squadrons have been making since 1946 to Italian, Greek, and Turkish ports, are the unmistakable reply to Russian aspirations in that region. The selection in 1946 of the biggest battleship and of the most modern aircraft carrier of the American fleet demonstrated to the Soviet Union as well as to the nations of the eastern Mediterranean the air and naval power which the United States possesses and which it was resolved to use in defense of the status quo in the eastern Mediterranean. The most drastic form of the military type of the policy of prestige is partial or total mobilization. Mobilization as an instrument of the policy of prestige may be obsolete today, since the war of the future will in all proba- bility require total preparedness at all times. In the past, however, and still in 1938 and 1939, the calling to the colors either of certain classes of the reserves or of all those subject to military service has been a potent instru- ment of the policy of prestige. When, for instance, in July 1914, Russia mobilized its army, followed by the mobilization of the Austrian, German, and French forces, and when France and Czechoslovakia mobilized their armies in September 1938, and France its army again in March and Septem- ber 1939, the purpose was always to demonstrate to friend and foe alike one’s own military strength and one’s resolution to use that strength in support of one’s own political ends. Here prestige, that is, reputation for power, is employed both as a deterrent to, and as preparation for, war. It is hoped that the prestige of one’s own nation will be great enough to deter the other nations from going to war. At the same time, it is hoped that if this policy of prestige should fail, the mobilization of the armed forces, before the actual outbrei of war, will put one’s own nation in the most advantageous military position possible under the circumstances. At that point, political and military policy tend to become two different aspects of the same thing. We shall have further occasion to point to the intimate relations between international politics and military policy in times of peace as well as in times of war.® 3. TWO OBJECTIVES OF THE POLICY OF PRESTIGE The policy of prestige has two possible ultimate objectives: prestige for its own sake or, much more frequently, prestige in support of a policy of the status quo or cl imperialism. While in national societies prestige is frequently ^ Sec beki?w^, djapterj, VII, XXI, XXIX. ( 55 ) Politics among Nations sought for its own sake, it is rarely the primary objective o£ international policies. In international politics prestige is at most the pleasant by-product of policies whose ultimate objectives are not the reputation for power but the substance of power. The individual members of a national society, protected as they are in their existence and social position by an integrated system of social institutions and rules of conduct, can afford to indulge in the competition for prestige as a kind of harmless social game. But nations, which as mem- bers of the international society must in the main rely upon their own power for the protection of their existence and power position, can hardly neglect the effect which gain or loss of prestige will have upon their power position on the international scene. It is, therefore, not by accident that, as we have already pointed out, ob- servers of international affairs who underrate the importance of power tend to take questions of prestige lightly. And it is likewise not by accident that it is not responsible statesmen, but only foolhardy egocentrics who are inclined to pursue a policy of prestige for its own sake. In modern times, William II and Mussolini are cases in point Intoxicated with newly acquired domestic power, they regarded international politics as a kind of personal sport where in the exaltation of one’s own nation and in the humiliation of others one enjoys one’s own personal superiority. By doing so, however, they confused the international with the domestic scene. At home, the demonstration of their power, or at least of its appearance, would be at worst nothing more than harmless foolishness. Abroad, such a demonstration is playing with fire which will consume the player who does not have the power commensurate with his belief or his pretense. One-man governments, that is, absolute monarchies or dictatorships, tend to identify the personal glory of the ruler with the politi- cal interests of the nation. From the point of view of the successful conduct of foreign affairs this identification is a serious weakness, for it leads to a policy of prestige for its own sake instead of for the purpose of either main- taining the status quo or of imperialistic expansion. The function which the policy of prestige fulfills for the policies of the status quo and of imperialism grows out of the very nature of international politics. The foreign policy of a nation is always the result of an estimate of the power relations as they exist between different nations at a certain mo- ment of histx^ and as they are likely to develop in the immediate and distant future. The foreign policy of the United States, for instance, is based upon an evaluation of the power of the United States in relation to, let us say, the power of Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and Argentina, and of the probable future development of the power of these different nations. Like- wise, the foreign polici^ of Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and Argentina are based upon similar evaluations which arc constantly subjected to review for the purpose of briiiging them up to date. It is the primary fui^on of the policy of prestige to influence these evalu- ations. If, for instance, the United States can impress its power upon the Latin-American nations to such an extent as to convince them that its pre- dominance in the Western H^iusphem is unchallengeable, its policy of the status quo in the Western Hemisphere is not likely to be challenged and its success will thus be assured. The relative politick stability which Europe Volicy of Prestige enjoyed during the twenties and in the beginning o£ the thirties was due mainly to the prestige of France as the strongest military power in the world. German imperialism owes its triumphs in the late thirties mainly to a successful policy of prestige. This policy was able to convince the nations, interested in the maintenance of the status quo, of Germany’s superiority, if not invincibility. For instance, showing documentary films of the “blitz- krieg” in Poland and France to foreign audiences composed preferably of military and political leaders clearly served this purpose. Whatever the ulti- mate objectives of a nation’s foreign policy, its prestige, that is, its reputation for power, is always an important and sometimes a decisive factor in deter- mining success or failure or its foreign policy. A policy of prestige is, there- fore, an indispensable element of a rational foreign policy. A policy of prestige attains its very triumph when it gives the nation pur- suing it such a reputation for power as to enable it to forego the actual em- ployment of power altogether. Two factors make that triumph possible: reputation for unchallengeable power and reputation for self-restraint in using it. Of this rare combination the Roman and the British empires and the Good Neighbor Policy of the United States are the classic examples. The longevity of the Roman Empire, in contrast to the fate of quick dis- solution which generally befalls imperial structures of similar dimensions, was due primarily to the profound respect in which the name of a Roman was held within its confines. Rome was superior in political acumen and military strength to any one of the component parts of the Empire. By making the burden of its superiority as easy as possible to bear it deprived its subject peoples of the incentive to rid themselves of Roman domination. At worst one or the other of the subjea peoples might revolt, but there was never incentive enough for the formation of a coition suflBciendy strong to chal- lenge Rome. Isolated revolts would be dealt with swiftly and efficiently by preponderant Roman power, thus increasing Rome’s prestige for power. The contrast between the dismal fate of those who dared to challenge Rome, and the peaceful and prosperous existence, under the protection of the Roman law, of those who remained loyal to Rome, increased Rome’s repu- tation for moderation in the exercise of its power. The same reputation for power temper^ by self-restraint was one of the foundation stones of the British Empire. Observers have marveled at the ability of a few thousand British officials to dominate a few hundred million Indians, not to speak of the voluntary ties of loyalty which keep the self- governing dominions united in the Empire. But the ignominious defeats which Great Britain suffered in the Second World War at the hands of Japan shattered forever its reputation for unchallengeable power. And the cry for national liberation, raised by the subjea races throughout Southeastern Asia, drowns out the memory of a tolerant rule mellowed by age and wisdom. With that twofold prestige gone and with the resources to maintain the Em- pire by sheer force unavailing, the Asiatic part of the British Empire did not for long survive the prestige of Britain. Sipce the inai:^uration pf the Good Neighbor Policy, the hegemony of the United States in the Western Hemi^here reposes likewise upon the reputation for unchallengeable power rather than upon its actual exercise. ( 57 ) Politics among Nations The superiority o£ the United States in the Western Hemisphere is so obvious and overwhelnaing that prestige alone is suiBcient to assure the United States the position among the American republics commensurate with its power. The United States can even at times afford to forego insistence upon the prestige which is its due, because the self-restraint thus manifested will make its hegemony more tolerable to its neighbors to the south. Thus the United States has made it a point, since the inauguration of the Good Neighbor Policy, to have Pan-American conferences meet in Latin-American countries rather than in the United States. Since in the Western Hemisphere the United States has the substance of unchallengeable power, it may well deem it the better part of wisdom not to insist upon all the manifestations of the prestige which goes with such overwhelming power, and to allow some other country in the Western Hemisphere to enjoy at least the appearances of power in the form of prestige. 4. TWO CORRUPTIONS OF THE POLICY OF PRESTIGE For a nation to pursue a policy of prestige is, however, not enough. It can do too much or too Htde in this respect, and in either case it will run the risk of failure. It generally does too much when it paints an exaggerated picture of its power and thus attempts to gain a reputation for power which ex- ceeds the power it actually possesses. In other words, it builds its prestige upon the appearances of power rather than upon its substance. Here the policy of prestige transforms itself into a policy of bluff. Its outstanding ex- ample in recent history is the policy of Italy from the Ethiopian War of 1935 to the African campaign of 1942. Embarking upon a policy of imperialistic expansion with the purpose of making the Mediterranean an Italian lake, Italy defied during the Ethiopian War and the Spanish Civil War what was then the foremost naval power on earth and the predominant power in the Mediterranean. It did so by creating the impression that it was a military power of the first order. Italy was successful in this policy so long as no other nation dared to put its pretense of power to the actual test. When this test came, it revealed the contrast between Italy’s reputation for power, deliberately created by a number of propagandistic devices, and its actual, power. It un- masked its policy of prestige as a policy of bluff. The essence of a policy of blun is well illustrated in the theater device of letting a score of extras, dressed as soldiers, walk about the stage, disappear behind the scenery, and come back again and again, thus creating the illusion of a great number of marching men. The ignorant and the gullible will easily be deceived by this ^pearance of armed might. The informed and detached observer will not fall victim to the deception. And if the stage directions re- quire that the “army” give battle to another “army,” the bluff becomes patent to anyone. Here the policy of bluff is reduced to its essentials, and its me- chanics are demonstrated in elemental form. It is easy for the policy of bluff to succeed in the short run, but in the long run it can succeed only if it is able to postpone forever the test of aaual performance, and this even the highest quality of statecraft cannot assure. (58 ) Policy of Prestige The best that luck and political wisdom can do is to use the initial suc- cess of a policy of bluff for the purpose of bringing the actual power of one’s nation up to its reputed quality. While the other nations are bluffed into giv- ing that power undeserved consideration, time is gained for bringing prestige and actual power into harmony. A nation, therefore, which has fallen behind in the competition for power, especially in the field of armaments, might try to conceal its weakness behind a policy of bluff while at the same time en- deavoring to overcome its handicap. When Great Britain, in the autumn and winter of 1940-41, was actually open to invasion, its prestige, far exceeding at that time its actual military strength, was probably the most important single factor deterring the Germans from the attempt to invade its territory. Subsequently, while maintaining the appearance of its defensive strength, it was able to acquire actual defensive strength. It must, however, be noted that luck came to the assistance of that policy of bluff in the form of Hitler’s mili- tary mistakes and that this policy was not so much freely chosen by Great Britain as forced upon it as a desperate last resort by an almost irresistible necessity.® While it thus remains true that it is generally a mistake in international politics to engage in a policy of bluff, it is no less a mistake to go to the other extreme and to be satisfied with a reputation for power which is inferior to the actual power possessed. The outstanding examples of this “negative policy of prestige” are the United States and the Soviet Union in the period between the two world wars and, more particularly, in the first years of the Second World War. At the outbreak of the Second World War the United States was already potentially the most powerful nation on earth and it had openly declared its opposition to the imperialism of Germany and Japan. Nevertheless, Ger- many and Japan proceeded very much as though the United States as a first- rate power did not exist at all. The significance of the attack on Pearl Harbor from the point of view under discussion lies in the implied expression of contempt for the military strength of the United States. The reputation for power of the United States, that is, its prestige, was so low that Japan could base its war plans upon the assumption that American military strength would not recover from the blow of Pearl Harbor in time to influence the outcome of the war. American prestige was so low that Germany and Italy, instead of trying to keep the United States out of the European war, seemed almost eager to bring it in by declaring war against it on December 10, 1941. Hitler is quoted as having declared in 1934: “The American is no soldier. The inferiority and decadence of this allegedly New World is evident in its military inefficiency,” ^ ® One can safely say that in the two most critical periods of its history Great Britain owed its salvation, at least in part, to its prestige. When in 1797 all of Europe was at Napoleon’s feet and France concentrated all its efforts upon the destruction of Great Britain, a mutiny broke out in the British fleet. For a time two loyal ships were all that stood between the conti- nent and the British Isles. In the winter of 1940-41, Great Britain was, for however different reasons, similarly helpless. In both situations, die awe in which the British name was held was one of the factors deterring its enemies from an attack which the distribution of material power greatly favored. ^ Hermann Rauschning, The Voice of Destruction (New York; G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1940). P- 71 - Politics among 'Nations So enormous a depreciation was primarily due to what can almost be called the absence of an American policy of prestige in so far as reputation for military power is concerned. Far from demonstrating to the other na- tions what the human and material potentialities of the United States could mean in terms of mihtary power, the United States seemed almost anxious to prove to the world its unwillingness, if not inability, to transform those enormous potentialities into actual instruments of war. Thus the United States invited neglect and attack from its enemies, failure for its policies, mortal danger to its vital interests. The Soviet Union had to cope with similar results not because it neglected but because it failed in, its policy of prestige. Throughout the period between the two world wars, the reputation of the Soviet Union for power was low. While Germany, France, and Great Britain at times tried to secure Russian support for their foreign policies, no nation had a sufficiently high opinion of the power of the Soviet Union to overcome the aversion to Russian poUti- cal ideology and the fear of its spreading through the rest of Europe. When, for instance, during the Czechoslovakian crisis of 1938, France and Great Britain were confronted with the alternative of either approving the im- perialistic expansion of Germany or trying to check it with the aid of the Soviet Union, the latter's prestige was so low that the Western European powers rejected its proffered co-operation without much hesitation. The military prestige of the Soviet Union reached its lowest point during the cam- paign against Finland in 1939-40 when little Finland seemed able to hold its own against the Russian giant. That lack of prestige was one of the fac- tors which convinced the German general staff as well as the general staffs of the allied nations that the Soviet Union would be unable to withstand a German attack. While Russian prestige soared high from the battle of Stalingrad to the end of the Second World War, the postwar years have seen it on the down- grade again. However, for a vrise foreign policy, this ought not to be a matter of indifference. For if the Soviet Union had appeared to be as powerful in 1938 or 1939 or 1941 as it actually was, that is, if its prestige had then been commensurate with its power, the policies of the other nations vrith respect to the Soviet Union might easily have been different, and the destiny of the Soviet Union and of the world might have been different as well. Whether today the Soviet Union is as strong as it seems to be, or stronger, or weaker, is a question of fundamental importance for both the Soviet Union and the rest of rixe world. The same is true of the United States and of any other nation playing an active role in international politics. To demon- strate to the rest of the world the power one’s own nation possesses, revealing neither too much nor too little, is the task of a wisely conceived policy of prestige. (60) CHAPTER V The Ideological Element in International Policies I. THE NATURE OF POLITICAL IDEOLOGIES^ It is a characteristic aspect o£ all politics, domestic as well as international, that frequently its basic manifestations do not appear as what they actually are — that is, manifestations of a struggle for power. Rather, the element of power as the immediate goal of the policy pursued is explained and justified in ethical, legal, or biological terms. Statesmen generally refer to their policies not in terms of power but in terms of either ethical and legal principles or biological necessities. In other words, while all politics is necessarily pursuit of power, ideologies render involvement in that contest for power psychologi- cally and morally acceptable to the actors and their audience. These legal and ethical principles and biological necessities fulfill a dual function in the sphere of international politics. They are either the ultimate goals of political action, of which we have spoken before,^ that is, those ulti- mate objectives for the realization of which political power is sought, or they are the pretexts and false fronts behind which the element of power, inherent in all politics, is concealed. These principles and necessities may fulfill one or the other function, or they may fulfill them both at the same time. A legal and ethical principle such as justice, for example, or a biological necessity, such as an adequate standard of living, may be the goal of a foreign policy, or it may be an ideology, or it may be both at the same time. Since we are not concerned here with the ultimate goals of international politics, we shall The concept o£ ideology used in this chapter corresponds to what Karl Mannheim has called **particular ideology,'* C£. Karl Mannheim, Ideology and Utopia (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 193$), p. 49: “The j^rdcular conception o£ ideology is implied when the term denotes we arc sceptical o£ the ideas and representations advanced by our opponent. They are regarded as more or less conscious disguises o£ the real nature of a situation, the true recognition of whidi would not be in accord with his interests. These distortions range all the way from conscious lies to half-conscious and unwitting disguises; from calculated attempts to dupe others to self-deception.” See also p. 238: ‘The study of ideologies has made it its task to unmask the more or less con$ckms deceptions and disguises of human interest groups, particu- kriy those of politiwi pardes.” 2 Sec *pp. 13 fE. Politics among Nations deal with ethical and legal principles and biological necessities only in so far as they perform the function of ideologies. These ideologies are not the accidental outgrowth of the hypocrisy of cer- tain individuals who need only to be replaced by other, more honest, indi- viduals in order to make the conduct of foreign affairs more decent. Disap- pointment always follows such expectations. The members of the opposition who were most vocal in exposing the deviousness of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s or Churchiirs foreign policies shocked their followers, once they had become responsible for the conduct of foreign affairs, by their own use of ideological disguises. It is the very nature of politics to compel the actor on the political scene to use ideologies in order to disguise the immediate goal of his action. The immediate goal of political action is power, and political power is power over the minds and actions of men. Yet those who have been chosen as the prospective object of the power of others are themselves intent upon gaining power over others. Thus the actor on the political scene is always at the same time a prospective master of others and a prospective subject of others. While he seeks power over others, his own freedom is threatened by a similar desire on the part of others. To this ambivalence of man as a political being corresponds the ambiva- lence of his moral evaluation of this condition. He will consider his own de- sire for power as just and will condemn as unjust the desire of others to gain power over him. In the years after the Second World War, the Russians have found their own designs for power justified by considerations of their own security. But they have condemned as “imperialistic” and preparatory to world conquest the expansion of American power. The United States has put a similar stigma on Russian aspirations, while it views its own international objectives as necessities of national defense. The ambivalence of this evaluation, characteristic of the approach of all nations to the problem of power, is again inherent in the very nature of in- ternational politics. The nation which would dispense with ideologies and frankly state that it wants power and will, therefore, oppose similar aspira- tions of other nations, would at once find itself at a great, perhaps decisive, disadvantage in the struggle for power. That frank admission would, on the one hand, unite the other nations in fierce resistance to a foreign policy so un- equivocally stated and would thereby compel the nation pursuing it to em- ploy more power than would otherwise be necessary. On the other hand, that admission is tantamount to flouting openly the universally accepted moral standards of the international community and would thereby put the particu- lar nation in a position where it would be likely to pursue its foreign policy half-heartedly and with a bad conscience. To rally a people behind the gov- ernments foreign policy and to marshal all the national energies and re- sources to its support, the spokesman of the nation must appeal to biological necessities, such as national existence, and to moral principles, such as justice, rather than to power. In no other way can a nation attain the enthusiasm and willingness to sacrifice without which no foreign policy can pass the ultimate test of strength. Such are the psychological forces which inevitably engender the ideologies of international policies and make them weapons in the struggle for power (62 ) The Ideological Element in International Policies on the international scene. A government whose foreign policy appeals to the intellectual convictions and moral valuations of its own people has gained an incalculable advantage over an opponent who has not succeeded in choos- ing goals which have such appeal or in making the chosen goals appear to have it. Ideologies, no less than ideas, are weapons which raise the national morale and, with it, the power of one nation and, in the very act of doing so, may lower the morale of the opponent. The enormous contribution which Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points made to the victory of the Allies in the First World War by strengthening the morale of the Allies and weakening the morale of the Central Powers is the classic example of the importance of the moral factor for international politics.® 2 . TYPICAL IDEOLOGIES OF INTERNATIONAL POLICIES It follows from the character of these forces that Imperialistic policies resort practically always to ideological disguises, whereas status quo poli- cies more frequently can be presented as what they actually are. It also follows from the character of these forces that certain types of ideologies are co- ordinated with certain types of international policies* a ) Ideologies of the Status Quo A policy of the status quo can often afford to reveal its true nature and to dispense with ideological disguises, because the status quo has already, by virtue of its very existence, acquired a certain moral legitimacy. What exists must have something to be said in its favor; otherwise it would not exist. Since a nation which pursues a policy of the status quo seeks the preservation of the power it already has, it may avoid the need to allay the resentment of other nations and its own scruples. This is especially so when the preserva- tion of the territorial status quo is not open to moral or legal attack and when national power has by tradition been exclusively used for the preserva- tion of this status quo. Such nations as Switzerland, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden do not need to hesitate to define their foreign policies in terms of the maintenance of the status quo, since this status quo is generally recognized as legitimate. Other nations, such as Great Britain, France, Yugoslavia, Czecho- slovakia, Rumania, which in the period between the two world wars in the main pursued a policy of the status quo, could not afford simply to declare that their foreign policies aimed at the defense of their possessions. Since the legitimacy of the status quo of 1919 was itself being challenged within and without these nations, they had to invoke ideal principles able to meet that challenge. The ideals of permanent peace and of international law fulfilled that purpose. The ideals of permanent peace and of international law are eminently 5 On the problem of national morale in general, sec below, pp. 100 fi. Politics among Nations qualified to serve as ideologies for a policy of the status quo. Since imperial- istic policies, by disturbing the status quo, frequently lead to war and must always take the possibility of war into account, a foreign policy which pro- claims pacifism as its guiding principle is by the same token anti-imperial- istic and supports the maintenance of the status quo. By expressing in pacifist terms the objectives of the policy of the status quo, a statesman puts the stigma of warmongering upon his imperialistic opponents, clears his and his countrymen’s conscience of moral scruples, and can hope to win the support of all countries interested in the maintenance of the status quo. The ideal of international law fulfills a similar ideological function for policies of the status quo. Law in general and, especially, international law is primarily a static social force. It defines a certain distribution of power and offers standards and processes to ascertain and maintain it in concrete situa- tions. Domestic law, through a developed system of legislation, judicial deci- sions, and law enforcement, allows for adaptations and sometimes even con- siderable changes within the general distribution of power. International law, in the absence of such a system making for lawful change, is, as will be shown later, ^ not only primarily, but essentially, a static force. The invocation of international law, of “order under law,” of “ordinary legal processes” in support of a particular foreign policy, therefore, always indicates the ide- ological disguise of a policy of the status quo. More particularly, when an in- ternational organization, such as the League of Nations, has been established for the purpose of maintaining a particular statxis quo, support of that organ- ization becomes tantamount to support of that particular status quo. Since the end of the First World War, it has become rather common to make use of such legalistic ideologies in justification of a policy of the status quo. While the alliances of former periods of history have not disappeared, they tend to become “regional arrangements” within an over-all legal organ- ization. The “maintenance of the status quo” yields to the “maintenance of international peace and security.” A number of states which have the same interest in the maintenance of the status quo will be likely to protect their pommon interests against a threat from a particular source not by a “Holy Alliance,” but by a “system of collective security” or a “treaty of mutual as- ri^ance.” Since, frequently, changes in the status quo are brought about at the ^pei^ of sm^ nations, defense of the rights of small nations, such as Bel- gium in 1914, Finland and Poland in 1939, becomes under appropriate condi- tions another ideology of the policy of the status quo. h) Ideologies of Imferidlism A policy of imperialism is always in need of an ideology; for, in contrast to a policy of the ^tus qmx, imperialism has always the burden of proof. It must prove that the smus quo which it seeks to overthrow deserves to be overthrown and that the moral legitimacy which in the minds of many at- taches to things as th^ are ought to yield to a higher principle of morality calling for a new distribution of power. Thus, in the words or GiU>on: “For ^ See below. Chapter XXIV. The Ideological Element in International Policies every v/ar a motive o£ safety or revenge, of honor or zeal, of right or con- venience, may be readily found in the jurisprudence of conquerors.” ® In so far as the typical ideologies of imperialism make use of legal con- cepts, they cannot well refer to positive international law, that is, to inter- national law as it actually is. As we have seen, the static character of inter- national law makes it the natural ideological ally of the status quo. The dynamic quality of imperialism requires dynamic ideologies. In the domain of law it is the doctrine of natural law, that is, of the law as it ought to be, which fits the ideological needs of imperialism. Against the injustices of in- ternational law as it exists, symbolizing the status quo, the imperialistic na- tion will invoke a higher law which corresponds to the requirements of justice. Thus Nazi Germany based its demands for the revision of the status quo of Versailles primarily upon the principle of equality which the Treaty of Versailles had violated. The demand for colonies, for instance, of whiclx the Treaty of Versailles had deprived Germany completely, and the demand for the revision of the imilateral disarmament provisions of the same treaty were derived from the same principle. When the imperialistic policy is not directed against a particular status quo resulting from a lost war, but grows from a power vacuum inviting conquest, moral ideologies which make it an unavoidable duty to conquer take the place of the appeal to a just natural law against an unjust positive law. Then to conquer weak peoples appears as “the white man’s burden,” the “national mission,” “manifest destiny,” a “sacred trust,” a “Christian duty.” Colonial imperialism, in particular, has frequently been disguised by ideologi- cal slogans of this kind, such as the “blessings of Western civilization” which it was the mission of the conqueror to bring to the colored races of the earth. The Japanese ideology of the East Asiatic “co-prosperity zone” carries a similar connotation of a humanitarian mission. Whenever a political philos- ophy, held with the fervor of religious faiths, coincides with an imperialistic policy, it becomes a ready instrument of ideological disguise. Arab imperial- ism during the period of Arab expansion justified itself as the fulfillment of religious duty. Napoleonic imperialism swept over Europe under the banner of “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.” Russian imperialism, especially in its aspi- rations for Constantinople and the Dardanelles, has successively or simul- taneously made use of the Orthodox faith, Pan-Slavism, world revolution, and defenses from capitalist encirclement. In modern times, especially under the influence of the social philosophies of Darwin and Spencer, the ideologies of imperialism have preferred biologi- cal arguments. Transferred to international politics, the philosophy of the survival of the fittest sees in the military superiority of a strong nation over a weak one a natural phenomenon which makes the latter the preordained object of the former’s power. According to this philosophy, it would be against nature if the strong did not dominate the weak and if the weak tried to be the ekjual of the strong. The strong nation has a right to a “place in the sun,” it is the “salt of the earth.” As a famous German sociologist discovered in the First Worid War, the Germanic “hero” must necessarily win out over ^ Th^ ¥iM cf Boman Empire (The Modem library Edition), II, 1235. Politics among Nations the British “shopkeeper.” That the inferior races should serve the master race is a law of nature that only villains and fools will oppose; slavery and extermination are the latters’ just desert. Communism, fascism, and nazism as well as Japanese imperialism have given these biological ideologies a revolutionary turn. The nations which na- ture has appointed to be the masters of the earth are kept in inferiority by the trickery and violence of the other nations. The vigorous but poor “have- nots” are cut off from the riches of the earth by the wealthy but decadent ‘"haves.” The proletarian nations, inspired by ideals, must fight the capitalist nations defending their money-bags. The ideology of overpopulation has found particular favor with Germany, Italy, and Japan. The Germans are a “people without space” who, if they cannot obtain “living space,” must “suffocate” and, if they cannot obtain sources of raw materials, must “starve.” With different variations, this ideology was used in the thirties also by Italy and Japan to justify their expansionist policies and to disguise their imperial- istic goals.® The most widely practiced disguise and justification of imperialism has, however, always been the ideology of anti-imperialism.’’ It is so widely used because it is the most effective of all ideologies of imperialism. As, according to Huey Long, fascism will come to the United States in the guise of anti- fascism, so imperialism has come to many a country in the guise of anti- imperialism. In 1914 as well as in 1939, both sides went to war in order to defend themselves against the imperialism of the other side. Germany at- tacked the Soviet Union in 1941 in order to forestall the latter’s imperialistic designs. Since the end of the Second World War, American and British as well as Russian foreign policy has been justified by the imperialistic objectives of other nations. By tiius presenting one’s own foreign policy, regardless of its actual character, as anti-imperialistic, that is, defensive and protective of the status quo, one gives one’s own people that good conscience and confidence in the justice of their own cause without which no people can support its ® The purely ideological character o£ the claim for colonies, justified in the period between the two world wars by Germany, Italy, and Japan with population pressure and economic dis- tress, is clearly demonstrated by the relevant population and economic statistics, Tfie four African colonies of Germany which covered 930,000 square miles had, in 1914, a population of almost twelve million of which only 20,000 were white. It was pointed out at that time that more Germans were living in the city of Paris than in all of Germany’s colonies com- bined. After Eritrea had been an Italian colony for fift^ years, the 2,000 square miles of territory most suitable for settlement contained about 400 Italian inhabitants. The Japanese colonies of Korea and Formosa absorbed within a period of forty years less than one year’s increase of the Japanese population. As for the economic importance of colonies to fbwr mother countries, the figures arc elo- quent in the case of Germany and Italy. The imports from, and the exports to, the German colo- nies amounted in 1913 to 0.5 per cent of the total German imports and exports. In 1933, the imports from the Mian colonics wetc i.fi per cent of the total imports, ^ind iic exports to them were 7.2 per cent of all the exports from Italy; a considerable portion of the latter must have consisted of war material. Only for Japan were its colonics of paramount economic importance, its trade with them in 1934 counting to almost 35 per cent of its total trade (23.1 per cent of the total imports, 22 per cent of th? total exports). See Royal Institute of International Affairs, The Colonial Problem (London, New York, Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1937), especially P- 3187. ^ A variant of the ideolc^ of anti-imperialism is the ideology of anti-power politics. Ac- cording to this ideology, other nations are motivated in their policies by aspirations for power, while one’s own nation, free from such tee motives, pursues purely ideal objectives, ( 66 ) The Ideological Element in International Policies foreign policy wholeheartedly and fight successfully for it. At the same time one may confound the enemy who, ideologically less well prepared, may no longer be certain on which side justice is to be found. c) Ambiguous Ideologies The ideology of anti-imperialism draws its effectiveness from its ambi- guity. It confounds the observer who cannot always be sure whether he is dealing with an ideology of imperialism or with the true expression of a pol- icy of the status quo. This confounding effect is present whenever an ide- ology is not made to order, as it were, for a particular type of policy, but can be worn by the defenders of the status quo as well as by the promoters of imperialism. The ideologies of national self-determination and of the United Nations are of this character. The principle of national self-determination as conceived by Woodrow Wilson justified the liberation of the Central and Eastern European nation- alities from foreign domination. Theoretically it was opposed not only to the status quo of empire, but also to imperialism of any kind, either on the part of the old imperial powers — Germany, Austria, and Russia — or on the part of the liberated small nations. Yet the destruction of the old imperial order at once called forth, still in the name of self-determination, new imperial- isms. Those of Poland, Czechoslovakia, Rumania, and Yugoslavia are as out- standing as they were inevitable; for the power vacuum left by the break- down of the old imperial order had to be filled and the newly liberated nations were there to fill it. As soon as they had installed themselves in power, they invoked the selfsame principle of national self determination in defense of the new status quo. This principle was their most potent ideological weapon from the end of the First to die end of the Second World War. It was by a stroke of propagandistic genius that Hider hit upon the prin- ciple of national self-determination in order to disguise and justify his policies of territorial expansion. The German minorities of Czechoslovakia and Po- land, under the banner of national self determination, were now to play the same role in undermining the national existence of Czechoslovakia and Po- land which the Czech, Slovak, and Polish nationalities, under the same ide- ological banner, had played in undermining the national existence of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. With their own ideological weapon turned against them, the benefactors of the status quo of Versailles had no ideology, except the one of law and order, with which to defend that status quo. Thus Austria and Czechoslovakia were surrendered, and Poland was exposed to mortal danger. After the settlement of Munich granted the German demands with regard to Czechoslovakia, the London Times, making the German ideology its own, declared: ^‘Self-determination, the professed principle of the Treaty of Versailles, has been invoked by Herr Hider against its written text, and his appeal has been allowed.” ® Rarely, if ever, has modern history offered a more striking example of the importance of ideologies in international politics and of me confounding and disarming effect of an ambiguous ideol- ogy aptly, employed. 8 London Times, September 2S, 193B. Politics among Nations The United Nations was intended at its inception to serve as an instru- ment of China, France, Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States, and of their allies, for maintaining the status quo as established by the victory of these nations in the Second World War. However, in the years im- mediately following the conclusion of the Second World War this status quo has proved to be only provisional and subject to contradictory interpretations and claims by the different nations. The ideology of the United Nations is, therefore, used by these different nations for the purpose of disguising and justifying their particular interpretations and claims. All nations appear as the champions of the United Nations and quote its charter in support of the particular policies they are pursuing. These policies being antagonistic, the reference to the United Nations and its charter becomes an ideological device justifying one*s own policy in the light of generally accepted principles and at the same time concealing its true character. Its ambiguity makes this ide- ology a weapon with which to confound one*s enemies and strengthen one’s friends. 3. THE PROBLEM OF RECOGNITION To see through these ideological disguises and to grasp behind them the actual political forces and phenomena becomes, then, one of the most im^ portant and most diflicult tasks of the student of international politics. It is important because, unless it is done, the correct determination of the char- acter of the foreign policy with which one happens to deal becomes impos- sible. The recognition of imperialistic tendencies and of their particular char- acter depends upon a clear distinction between the ideological pretense which generally disavows imperialistic aspirations altogether and the actual objec- tives of the policies pursued. To make this distinction correctly is difficult because of the general difficulty of detecting the true meaning of any human action apart from what the actor believes or feigns it to mean. This general problem is aggravated by two other difficulties peculiar, at least in their gen- erality, to international politics. One is to distinguish a boast or bluff inffica- tive of a policy of prestige from an ideological disguise of actual imperialism. The other is to discover behind an ideology of the status quo or of localized imperiaEsm the true meaning of the policy actually pursued. We have already had occasion to refer to the foreign policy of William II which cemveyed through its language and manifestations the impression of being outright imperialistic while it was actually a strange mixture of im- perialistic dedgns and neurotic boastfulness. Conversely, the true imperial- istic essence of the foreign polides of Hitler and Mussolini was not generally recognized up to the kte thirties. It was expldned away as mere bluff and boastfulness for hpnie consumption. To determine the true character of a foreign policy bdiind its cfcliberatc or uncemsdous ideological disguise be- comes, however, particularly difficult when the i&ologtes of the status quo arc used as a disguise. Of this ffifctilty the pmod following the Second World War offers striking exan^ks in the forcipi pofidcs 5 tiie United States and the Soviet Union^ ( 68 ) The Ideological Element in International Policies Both nations have expressed the objectives of their foreign policies in the almost identical terms of status quo ideologies. The sources of diese common ideologies are the declarations of Teheran, Yalta, and Potsdam, signed by the representatives of both countries and accepted by both as the guiding princi- ples of their foreign policies. Both the Soviet Union and the United States have proclaimed that they have no territorial ambitions beyond the enemy territories they hold; that they want to see free and democratic governments established everywhere; that they are guided by considerations of security and national defense; and that it is the capitalist or communist imperialism of the other side against which they are compelled, in spite of their own wishes, to defend themselves. Most Americans and most Russians are obviously convinced that these statements are a faithful expression of the true character of their countries’ foreign policy. Yet they cannot both be right, while one or the other or both may be wrong. For it may be that the Soviet Union misunderstands the foreign policy of the United States, or that the United States misunderstands the foreign policy of the Soviet Union, or that both misunderstand each other. The solution of this riddle upon which the fate of the world may well depend is not to be sought in the character of the ideologies alone, but in the sum total of the factors determining the foreign policy of a nation. Of this more will be said later.® ^ See below, Part Ten. (69 > PART THREE NATIONAL POWER CHAPTER VI The Essence of National Power I. WHAT IS NATIONAL POWER? We^ ave said by power we mean the power of man over the minds and actio ns of oth er men^ a^p^iSnofngiTOffTO”^^ human heings Evelh soci al ^’n SeT'^Mth each other. We have spoken of the *‘p6Wer of a nation” or of “national power” as though the concept were self-evident and sufficiently explained by what we have said about power in general- Yet, while it can be easily understood that individuals seek power, how are we to explain the aspirations for power in the collectivities called nations? What is a nation? What do we mean when we attribute to a nation aspirations and actions? A nation as such is obviously not an empirical thing. A nation as such cannot be seen. What can be empirically observed are only the individuals who belong to a nation. Hence, a nationals ^ abs^^on^om a nimberjof a cteristics which mak e them members of the sam e nation. Besides being a member of a nation and thinking, feeling, andf acting in that capacity, the individual may belong to a church, a social or economic class, a political party, a family, and may think, feel, and aa in these capacities. Apart from being a member of all these social groups, he is also a human being as such, and thinks, feels, and acts in that capacity. TheidQre»,,,wh£n..,Wfi .apeak of-tba power or of the foreign policy of a ^rtain nation, we ca^ only mean imenb: . t drical terms the peywer or the foreign poEcy of certain individuals wliQ.hfi =^ long to the same nation. Yet tlm pos^ difficulty. The power or the foreign policy of the United States is obviously not the power or the foreign policy of all the in- dividuals who belong to the nation called the United States of America. The fact that the United States emerged from the Second World War as the mo5t powerful nation on earth has not affected the power of the great mass of individual An^ricans. It has, however, affected the power of all those in- div^uals who adxr^aiiSlac tl^ foreign affairs of the United States and, more psrtci^^ly, ^i^ak and (represent the United States on the international Folitics among Nations scene. For a nation pursues international policies as a legal organization called a state whose agents act as the representatives of the nation on 13Ke i nternational scene. They speak for it, negotiate treaties in its name, define its objectives, choose the means for achieving them, and try to maintain, in- crease, and demonstrate its power. They are the individuals who, when they appear as representatives of their nation on the international scene, wield the power and pursue the policies of their nation. It is to them that we refer when we speak in empirical terms of the power and of the foreign policy of a nation. How, then, does it come about that the great mass of the individual mem- bers of a nation, whose individual power is not affected by the vicissitudes^ mational power, identify, thejmsdves with powep and the foreign policies ^f_their.lxatJQQ,-.experience this power and these policies as their own, ahff^o so with an emotional intensity often surpassing the emotional attachmem to their individual aspirations for pow er? By asking this question, we are posing the, problem oi modern, nationalism . In preceding periods of history the col- lectivity with whose power and aspirations for power the individual identi- fied himself was determined by ties of blood, of religion, or of common loyalty to a feudal lord or prince. In our time the identification with the power and policies of the nation has largely superseded or, in any case, over- shadows those older identifications. How is this phenomenon of modern na- tionalism to be explained.? We have learned from our discussion of the ideologies of international policies that in the mind of the individual the aspirations for power of others bear the stigma of immorality. While this moral depreciation has one of its roots in the desire of the prospective victim of the power of others to defend his freedom against this threat, the other root stems from the attempt of so- ciety as a whole to suppress and keep in bounds individual aspirations for power. Society has established a network of rules of conduct and institutional devices for controlling individual power drives- These rules and dev ices ci ther divert individual power drives into channe ls where they cannot en- da ng^ society, or else they wc^eh ffiem or siip^ess them altogether. Law, ethics, and mores, innumeraHe social Institutions and £u:rangernents,“ su^ as co mpetitive exaimnations, election cohSsts^^ clubs^^ ^d"ff^e rnal orgajuz^tions--^^ sSrve th at "pifipos^ - In consequence, most people ^e Unable to satisfy their desire for power wid^ Ae national communit y. Within that commumty, ohly a relatively small group permanently wielffs power over great numbers of people with- out being subject to extensive limitations by others. The great mass of the population is to a much greater extent the object of power than its wielder. Not being able to find full satisfaction of their desire for power within the national boundaries, the people project those unsatisfied aspirations onto the international scene. There they find vicarious satisfaction in identification with the power drives of the n^on. When the citizen of the United States thinks of the power of his country, he experiences the same kind of exhilara^ tion the citizen of Rome must have felt when, identifying himself with Rome and its power and by the same token contrasting himself with the stranger, he would say: *"Cms Romanus sumJ' When we arc conscious qf bring mem- (74) The Essence of National Power bers of the most powerful nation on earth, the nation with the greatest in- dustrial capacity and the monopoly of the atomic bomb, we flatter ourselves and feel a great pride. It is as though we all, not as individuals but collec- tively, as members of the same nation, owned and controlled so magnificent a power. The power which our representatives wield on the international scene becomes our own, and the frustrations which we experience within the national community are compensated for by the vicarious enjoyment of the power of the nation. These psychological trends, operating within the individual members of a nation, find support in the rules of conduct and in the institutions of so- ciety itself. Society restrains aspirations for individual power within the na- tional community and puts the mark of opprobrium upon certain power drives pointing toward individual aggrandizement. But it encourages and glorifies the tendencies of the great mass of the population, frustrated in its individual power drives, to identify itself with the nation’s struggle for power on the international scene. EQ:^iV fir.{Hirsu £d^^ individual.fQlhis^wjx.sake is considered an evil to be tcderated only withi n certain bounds and in certain m^ifestations. Power disguised by ideologies and pursued in the name and for the sake of the nation becomes a good for which all citizens must strive. The national symbols, especially in so far as they have reference to the armed forces and the relations with other nations, are instruments of that identification of the individual with the power of the nation. Th e ethics . mores of society tend to make that identification attractive by holding put. r^^dS^ffiT^K^m^pSTshments. Thus it is not by acddentlEat certain groups of the population are either the most militant supporters of the national aspirations for power in the in- ternational field, or else refuse to have anything to do with them at all These are the groups which are primarily the object of the power of others and are most thoroughly deprived of oudets for their own power drives or are most insecure in the possession of whatever power they may have within the na- tional community. The lower middle classes especially, such as the white collar^ workers, but also the main bulk of the laboring masses,^ identify them- selves completely with the national aspirations for power. Or else, and here the ifi^^xamplp. k the revolutiojiaira proletariat, pan dculyly in Eroope, they do not identify themselves with national aspira tio ns at all. While the latter group lias thus & been oF small concern for "the international policies of the United States, the former has taken on ever greater importance. It is here, then, that one must seek the roots of modern nationalism and the explanation for the ever increasing ferocity with which international politics is pursued in modern times. The increasing insecurity of the indi- vidual in Western societies, especially in the lower strata, has magnified enormously the frustration of individud power drives. This, in turn, has given rise to an increased desire for compensatory identification with the collective national aspirations for power. These increases have been quantitative as well as qualitative. ^ They have, in terms of power, less to lose and more to gain from nationalistic foreign policies than any other group of the population, with the exception of the military. Politics among Nations 2 . ROOTS OF MODERN NATIONALISM /Until the time of the Napoleonic Wars, only very small groups of the pppulation identified themselves with the foreign policies of their nation, foreign policies were truly not national but dynastic policies, and the identi- / fication was with the power and the policies of the individual monarch rather than with the power and the policies of a collectivity, such as the na- tion. As Goethe put it in a significant passage of his autobiography: ‘*We all _fdtior Fredeack^[the..Great]^h^^^ we care for Prussia.?” With the Napoleonic Wars began the period of national foreign policies and wars, that is, the identification of the great masses of the citizens of a nation with national power and national policies. Up to the First World War it was doubtful to what degree the members of the European socialist parties identified themselves with the power and policies of their respective nations. Yet the full participation in that war of the main bulk of the work- ers in all belligerent countries demonstrated the identification of practically the whole population with the power and policies of their respective nations. The Second World War has, however, brought about a certain retrogres- sion from that maximum of identification which the First World War wit- nessed. That retrogression took place on the top and at the base of the social pyramid. On the one hand, relatively small, yet powerful, groups of intel- lectual, political, and military leaders in Great Britain and France either re- fused to identify themselves with their countries or even preferred to identify themselves with the national enemy. The leaders who felt this way were in- secure in their power positions, especially in view of the initial political and military weakness of their countries, and the enemy alone seemed to be able to assure them their positions on top of the social pyramid. On the other hand, the French Communists, owing allegiance to both France and the So- viet Union, were able to identify themselves fully with their nation only after the German attack on the Soviet Union in 1941 had brought both allegiances into play. The German attack on France alone was unable to rouse them to active oppositio n to the invader. But the German attack on the Soviet Union made France and the Soviet Union allies in a common cause and allowed the French Communists to oppose in the German invaders of France the com- mon enemy of France and the Soviet Union alike. The identification of the French Communists with French national policies was predicated upon the identity those policies with Russian interests and policies. This Communist allegiance to foreign interests and pplides, which take precedence over the national is a universal phenomenon which, as such, is a challenge to the coh^on of the national state and to its very existenee.^ (Qualitatively, the' dnotional intensity of the identitication of Ae indi- vidu^ with his n^uic^ , stands in inverse proportion to the stability of the particular society as reflected in the sen^ cA secinity of its mepib^s. The greater the stability of society and the sense of security of its members, the smaller are the chances for collective emc^ons to seek an ovAkt in aggres- 2 See also below. Chapter XIV. The Essence of 'National Power sive nationalism, and vice versa.® The revolutionary wars of France in the lasL^ecade of the eighteenth century and the wars of liberation against Napoleon from 18*1^^15 aire the first examples in modern times of mass in- security, induced“fey‘ the instability of domestic societies iid TeaHihg to emo- tional outbur^^ the form of fervent mass identifications with ag^essive foreign policies and wars. Social instability became acute in Western civiliza- tioh during the niftereenth century. It became permanent in the twentieth century as a result of the weakening of the ties of tradition, especially in the form of religion, and as a result of increased rationalization of life and work, and of cyclical economic crises. The insecurity of the groups affected by these factors found an emotional outlet in fixed and emotionally accentuated na- tionalistic identifications. As Western society became ever more unstable, the sense of insecurity deepened and the emotional attachment to the nation as the symbolic substitute for the individual became ever stronger. With the world wars, revolutions, concentration of economic, political, and military power, and economic crises of the twentieth century it reached the fervor of a secular religion. Contests for power now took on the ideological aspects of struggles between good and evU. Foreign policies transformed themselves into sacred missions. Wars were fought as crusades, for the purpose of bring- ing the true political religion to the rest of the world. This relation between social disintegration, personal insecurity, and the ferocity of modern nationalistic power drives can be studied to particular ad- vantage in German fascism, where these three elements were more highly developed than anywhere else. The general tendencies of the modern age toward social disintegration were in Germany driven to extremes by a con- junction of certain elements in the national character favoring the extremes rather than mediating and compromising positions, and by three events which weakened the social fabric of Germany to such an extent as to make it an easy prey for the consuming fire of national socialism. The first of these events was the defeat in the First World War, coinci- dent with a revolution which was held responsible not only for the destruc- tion of traditional political values and institutions, but for the loss of the war itself. The revolution naturally brought loss of power and insecurity in social status to those who had been at or near the top of the social hierarchy under the monarchy. Yet the social situation of large masses of the popula- tion was similarly affected by the impact of the idea that defeat and revolu- tion were both the result of treacherous machinations of domestic and foreign enemies working for the destruction of Germany. Thus Germany was not only surrounded and “encircled’’ by foreign enemies, but its own body politic was shc^ through with invisible bacilli and parasites, sapping its strength and bent upon destroying it. The second etent was the inflation nf the .ej>rly nrhirb tariz^ economteaHv sectors of the middle classes and weakened, if nor d estroyed, in the people at large the traditional moral principles of honesty and dlealin j ^* Tl Ke middle classes, in protSt agaanstmci 7 e(x>nomic^ tar&atiori,^ embra^ the most anti-proletarian and nationalistic ideologies Ties© cp^ectiv© may, ©f com^ sedc an outlet in aggressiveness within the mdm that; k, Ih-ihe fprtn class stni^c, rcvolutibviQusly geography. F or instance, the fao" thaT the ^ c^ tefffto^y of the UniteaStates is separated from other continents by bodies of water three thousand miles wide in the cast, and more than six thousand miles wide in the west is a permanent factor which determines the position of the United States in the world. It is a truism to say that the importance of this factor today is not what it was in the times of George Washington or President McKinley- But it is fallacious to assume, as is frequently done, that the tech- nical development of transportation, communications, and warfare has elixni- nated altogether the isolating factor of the oceans. This factor is certainly less important today than it was fifty or a himdred years ago, but from the point of view of the power position of the United States it still makes a great deal of difference that the United States is separated from the continents of Europe and Asia by wide expanses of water instead of bordering directly on, let us France, China, or Russia. In other words, the geographical location of the United States remains a fundamental factor of permanent importance which the foreign policies of all nations must take into account, however dif- ferent its bearing upon political decisions might be today from what it was in other pcffods of f^^ry. Similarly, the separation of Great Britain from the European continent by a small body of wat^, the English Channel, is a factor which Julius Caesar could no more affofd to m&thck than William the Conqueror, Philip II, Napoleon, or Hitler. Hpwevet iduch other factors may have altered its im- portance throughout the pfefy^ what was important two thousand (8o) 'Elements of 'National Power years ago is still important today, and all those concerned with the conduct of foreign affairs must take it into account What is true of the insular location of Great Britain is true of the geo- graphic position of Italy, The Italian peninsula is separated from the rest of Europe by the high mountain massif of the Alps, and while the valleys of the ^ps descend gradually southward toward ^e north Italian plain, they precipitate abruptly toward the north. This geographical situation has been an important element in the political and military considerations of Italy and of other nations with regard to Italy. For, under all conditions of warfare of which we know, this geographical situation has made it extremely difficult to invade Central Europe from Italy, while it has made it much less difficult to invade Italy from the north. In consequence, invasions of Italy have been much more frequent than invasions by Italy. From Hannibal to General Clark this permanent geographical factor has determined political and mili- tary strategy. The Pyrenees have fulfilled for the international position of Spain a some- what different, but no less permanent, function. It has been said that Europe en ds at the Pyrenees. The Pyrenees, by making Spain difficult of access to the outside world, have indeed functioned as a barrier shutting Spain off from the main stream of the intellectual, social, economic, and political develop- ments which transformed the rest of Europe. Spain has also been by-passed by most of the great political and military conflagrations of continental Europe. This position on the sidelines of continental politics is at least partially the result of that geographical seclusion provided by the mountain barrier of ^^e Pyrenees. Finally, let us consider the geographical situation of the Soviet Union, The Soviet Union constitutes an enormous land mass which extends over one- seventh of the land area of the earth and is two and one-half times as large as the territory of the United States. While it is about five thousand miles by air from the Bering Straits to Koenigsberg, the capital of what was formerly East Prussia, now called Kaliningrad, it is half that distance from Murmansk at the Barents Sea to Ashkhabad at the northern frontier of Iran. This terri- torial extension is a permanent source of great strength which has thus far frustrated all attempts at military conquest from the outside. This enormous land mass dwarfed the territory conquered by foreign invaders in comparison with what still remained to be conquered. Conquest of a considerable portion of a country without prospects for speedy recovery usually breaks the will to resist of the conquered people. This is, as we have seen, the political purpose of military conquest. Similar conquests, especially as under Napoleon and Hitler, Aey did not have a linoited objective, but aimed at the very existence of Russia as a nation, had a rather stimulating effect upon Russian reastancc. For not only were the con- quered parts Russia small in comptrison with those which were left in Ru^an han^, bm the task of the invader became more diflScult with ev^ step he advano^?P[e to„ keep an ever greater number of troops supplied over ever lei3gdi^a^ communication deep in a hostile country. Thus gl@gr^)hy ca:iquc^t cif' Russian territory, as soon as the objec- Politics among Nations tives of such conquest become commensurate with the total territory of Russia, a liability for the conquerer rather than an asset. Instead of the con- queror swallowing the territory and gaining strength from it, it is rather the territory which swallows the conqueror, sapping his strength. Another geographical factor, however, constitutes at the same time a weak- ness and an asset for the international position of the Soviet Union. We are referring to the fact that neither high mountains nor broad streams separate the Soviet Union from its western neighbors and that the plains of Poland and Eastern Germany form a natural continuation of the Russian plain. That means that there exists no natural obstacle to invasion on the western frontier of Russia, either on the part of the Soviet Union or on the part of the Soviet Union’s western neighbors. Thus, from the fourteenth century to the present. White Russia and the westernmost part of Russia proper have been the scene of continuous thrusts and counterthrusts and a field of battle where Russia and its western neighbors met. The lack of a natural frontier, that is, of a frontier predetermined, like the Italian or the Spanish, by geo- graphical factors, has been a permanent source of conflict between Russia and die West. Similarly, yet for the opposite reason, the possibility of such a fron- tier between France and Germany in the form of the Rhine, to which France always aspired and which it had rarely the strength to attain, has been a permanent source of conflict between those two countries since the times of the Romans. 2. NATURAL RESOURCES Another relatively stable factor which exerts an important influence upon the pnwer nf a nation with respect to other nations is natural resources. To start with the most elemental of these resources, food, a country whieffis self- suflScient, or nearly self-sufficient, has a great advantage over a nation which is not and must be able to import the foodstuffs which it does not grow, or else starve. It is for this reason that the power and, in times of war, the very existence of Great Britain, which before the Second World War grew only 30 per cent of the food consumed in the British Isles, has always been de- pendent upon its ability to keep the sea lanes open over which the vital food supplies had to be shipped in. Whenever its ability to import food was chal- lenged, as in the two world wars through submarine warfare and air at- tacks, the very power of Great Britain was challenged, and its survival as a nation put in jeopardy. For the same reasem, Germany, though to a much lesser extent deficient in foodstuffs than Great Britain, in order to survive a war, was bound to pursue three prmdpal goals, either severally or in combination: first , the avoidance a lf>ng W2BC ihrough a speedy victory before its food reserves were ex- hausledl seco nd. Ae conquest or the ffleat food producing "yeas" of Eastern and iiird destroctio o searower :wfcc h aif off from access to overseas sources dE food. In both world wars, Germany was unable to attain the firsi andlEESff-^ It reached the seoemd goal in the First World War too late to be of decisive effect. Thus the Allied (82) Elements of National Power blockade, by imposing upon the German people privations which sapped their will to resist, was one of the essential factors in the victory of the Allies. In the Second World War Germany became virtually self-sufficient with re- gard to food, not primarily through conquest, but through the deliberate starvation and the outright killing of millions of people in conquered terri- tories. A deficiency in home-grown food has thus been a permanent source of weakness for Great Britain and Germany which they must somehow over- come, or face the loss of their status as great powers. Countries enjoying self- sufficiency, such as the United States and Russia, need not divert their national energies and foreign policies from their primary objectives in order to make sure that their populations will not starve in war. Since they are reasonably free from worry on that count, they have been able to pursue much more forceful and single-minded poHcies than otherwise would have been possible. Self-sufficiency in food has thus always been a source of great strength. Self-sufficiency in food, or lack of it, is a relatively stable factor in national power, but it is sometimes subject to decisive changes. There may be changes in the consumption of food brought about by changing conceptions of nutri- tion. There may be changes in the technique of agriculture which may increase or decrease the output of agricultural products. The outstanding examples of the influence of changes in the agricultural output upon national power is, however, to be found in the disappearance of the Near East and of North Africa as power centers and in the descent of Spain from a world power in the sixteenth century to a third-rate power in the eighteenth century. The agricultural systems of the Near East and North Africa were all founded upon irrigation. Even though it could hardly be proved that the decline in the national power of Babylon, of Egypt, and of the Arabs was concomitant with the disorganization of their irrigation systems, this much is certain — the decay of their systems of agriculture, for whatever reason it may originally have occurred, made irreparable the decline of their na- tional power. For the disappearance of regulated irrigation transformed the better part of the arable land of these regions into deserts. It was only in Egypt that the natural irrigation of the Nile preserved a certain measure of fertility even after artificial irrigation had broken down. As for Spain, while one dates the decline of its power from the destruc- tion of the Armada by Great Britain in 1588, its political downfall became dcfiiute only after misrule in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries had destroyed considerable sections of its agriculture through large-scale defor- estation. In consequence, rainfalls ceased, and wide regions of northern and central Spain were transformed into virtual deserts. What holds Uue of food is of course also true of those natural resources which are important for industrial production and, more particularly, for the waging of war. The absolute and relative importance which natural re- sources in the form of raw materials have for the power of a nation depends necessarily upon the technology of warfare which is practiced in a particular period of history. Brfore the large-scale mechanization of warfare, when hand-to-hand fighting was the prevalent military technique, other factors, (83 ) Politics among Nations such as the personal qualities of the individual soldier, were more important than the availability of the raw materials with which his weapons were made. In that period of history which extends from the beginning of historic time well into the nineteenth century natural resources play a subordinate role in determining the power of a nation. With the increasing mec haniz a- tion of warfare^ which since the industrial revoludon.has,prQcee4e(i^i£_a faster pace than in all of the preceding history of mankind, national power' h as become more and more dependent upon the control of raw materials In peace and war. It is not by accident that the two most powerful natioiiiffoHay, the United States and the Soviet Union, are most nearly self-sufl&cient in the raw materials necessary for modern industrial production and control at least the access to the sources of those raw materials which they do not themselves produce. As the absolute importance of the control of raw materials for national power has increased in proportion to the mechanization of warfare, so cer- gm jra^matcrials Kav^g^ned ih^i^ over o thers. This has hap- pened whenever hindamcntai changes in technology have called for the use of new materials or the increased use of old ones. In 1936, a statistician rated the share of a number of basic minerals in industrial production for military purposes and assigned them the following values: coal, 40; oil, 20; iron, 15; copper, lead, manganese, sulphur, 4 each; zinc, aluminum, nickel, 2 each.^ Half a century before, the share of coal would certainly have been consider- ably greater, since as a source of energy it had then only small competition from water and wood and none from oil. The same would have been true of iron which then had no competition from light metals and substitutes, such as plastics. Thus it is not by accident that Great Britain, which was self- suflScient in coal and iron, was the one great world power of the nineteenth century. Since the First World War, oil as a source of energy has become m ore and more important for industry ah^ Most" meeSamzed v^eapons aridl^ehi- cles are driven by oil, and, consequently, countries which possess considerable deposits of oil have acquired an influence in international affairs which in some cases can be attributed primarily, if not exclusively, to that possession. “One drop of oil,” said Clemenceau during the First World War, “is worth one drop of blood of our soldiers.” The emergence of oil as an indispensable raw material has brought about a shift in the relative power of the politically leading nations. The United States and the Soviet Union have become more powcifid since they are self-sufficient in this respect, while Great Britain has grown considerd^ly weaker, the British Isles being completely lacking in oil depOTts. What is called strat^c importance of the Near East refers primarily to tibeml dqjorits dE tfee Arsinan peninsula. Qjntrol over them is an impor- tant factor m tte ^ power in the sense that whoever is able to add them to Kb other isoui^s of raw materials adds that much strength to his own re^ur<^ and d^aives Ms competitors proportionately. It is for this rea- ^ Fer owerf ul nation on earth, we base this estimate of America n pow er primarily uppn i ts'mHustnal stren^^^ The of, Londo n says: In any comparison of the potential resources of the Great Powers the United States, even before Hitler’s war, far outstripped every other nation in the world in material strength, in scale of industrialization, in weight of resources, in standards of living, by every index of output and consumption. And the war, which all but doubled the American national income while it either ruined or severely weakened every other Great Power, has enormously increased the scale upon which the United States now towers above its fellows. Like mice in the cage of an elephant, they follow with apprehension the movements of the mammoth. What chance would they stand if it were to begin to throw its weight about, they who are in some danger even if it only decides to sit down? There is, indeed, one question that the analyst of power need not spend time in asking about the strength of the United States. If raw material resources, industrial capacity, scientific knowledge, productive know-how, skilled labour — if these alone were the ingredients of power, then the United States could take on the rest of the world single-handed.® One ought not to forget in this connection that the present American monopoly of the atomic bomb is an outgrowth of American industrial strength. Inventive genius, technological skill, and quality of organization made possible the development of the industrial processes which produced the atomic bomb. When, on the other hand, one speaks of the weakness of the Soviet Union one has again chiefly the industrial capacity of the country in mind. To quote the Economist again: Those who make their assessments of comparative power by statistical cal- culations of national production and wealth will not have much difficulty in convincing themselves that it will be a very long time before the Soviet Union is likely to ‘‘catch up” with the West in any real sense. Slump or no slump, the average annual volume of productive capital formation in North America will for many decades be much higher than in Soviet Russia. And if the coun- tries of Western Europe — including Germany — should find their way to some co-ordination of production and resources, then the balance of economic power will be irremediably tilted against the Soviets.^ 4. MILITARY PREPAREDNESS What Riyes the factors of geography, natural resources, and industrial cai^tity tiMeir actml importance for tic power df mtldfriSTnililiny pie- p$C(&esst ^ yfce National ' is too obvious to nee^^much elaborsuion- Military preparedness requires a military establishment’ cap^le of supporting the foreign polidcs pursued. ® Economist, May 24, 1947, p. 7^5, liy permission.) ^ Economist, May 17, 1947; p, 7 ^ by “p^mission.) ’ ' ^ (88 ) Elements of ISIational Power Such ability derives from a number of factors of which the most significant, from the point of view of our discussion, are technological innovations, and the quantity and quality of the armed forces* The fate of nations and of civilizations has often been determined by a differential in the technology of warfare for which the inferior side was un- able to compensate in other ways. Europe carried its power on the vehicle of a technology of warfare superior to that of the Western Hemisphere, Africa, and the Near and Far East. The addition of infantry, firearms, and artillery to the traditional weapons in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries spelled a momentous shift in the distribution of power in favor of those who used those weapons before their enemies did. The feudal lords and independent cities, who in the face of these new weapons continued to rely upon cavalry and the castles which until then had been practically immune against direct attack, now found themselves suddenly dislodged from their position of pre- ponderance. Two events illustrate dramatically this shift in power which politically and militarily marks the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the modern era of history. One is the battles of Morgarten in 1315 and of Laupen in 1339, when armies cd gipused'T ff^^ disastrous defeats " upd^^iM^Tavalf^^^ dcmon ^ ;ratin g_^t foot-soldiers recruited - Iromndie common people and expensive army of eques- t rigLS.‘'The other is th e , bv C ha des VJII of France_in 1404* and artill ery. Charl es VIII brokc^e power of the proud ^ Italian^city states, until men secure behind their walls. The seemingly ir- r^slstihle^(yefffucpvenei^;^^ iX^ffaTre made a n ip^li- ble..jmBr.mQi uppmeontefia^ wlncL is' r^ectgji^ ings of M achiayelli and pther F^^^^^ tine writers of the time.^ The twentiShcentiiry has ■^liesscd tour major innovSons in the tech- nique of warfare. They gave at least a temporary advantage to the side which used them before the opponent did or was able to protect itself against them. There is, first, the submarine which was used in the First World War by Germany primarily against British shipping and which seemed to be capable of deciding the war in favor of Germany until Great Britain found in the convoy an answer to that menace. Second, there is the tank, used in considerable and concentrated numbers by the British, but not by the Germans, in the closing phase of the First World War. The tank gave the Allies one of their assets for victory. Third, strategic and tactical co-ordina- tion of the air force with the land and naval forces contributed greatly to the German and Japanese superiority in the initial stages of the Second World War. Pearl Harbor and the disastrous defeats which the British and the Dutch suffered at the hands of the Japanese on land and at sea in 1941 and 1942 were the penalties to be paid for tedinolt^cal backwardness in the face of a '“more progres^ve enemy. If one reads the somber review of British defeats which Winston Churchill gave in the secret session of Parliament on April 23, ^ §cc tlw Felix **MaccliiaveUii Tlie Renaissance of the Art of W^,’* in Ma}(ers of Modem edited by Edward Mead Earle (Princeton: Princeton University Politics among Nations 1942/ one is struck by the fact that all these defeats on land, on the sea, and in the air have one common denominator : the disregar d prj^ th c^hang^ in the technology nf warfare brou^t about by air pow'er. Finally, the monopoly of the atomic bomb, so, long as it lasts, gives the United States a ^eat technological advantage in terms of military power. Aside from the timely use of technological innovations, the quality of mili- tary leadership has always exerted a decisive influence upon national power. The power of Prussia in the eighteenth century was primarily a reflection of the military genius of Frederick the Great and of the strategic and tactical innovations introduced by him. The art of warfare had changed between the death of Frederick the Great in 1786 and the battle of Jena in 1806 when Napoleon destroyed the Prussian Army, which in itself was then as good and strong as it had been twenty years brfore. But, what was more important, military genius was lacking in its leaders who were fighting the battles of Frederick the Great all over again. On the other side military genius was in command, employing new ideas in strategy and tactics. This decided the issue in favor of France. The Maginot Line psychology of the French General Staff in the period between the two world wars has become a by-word for faulty strategic think- ing. While the tendencies of modern technology, especially its trend toward mechanization of transportation and of communications, pointed toward the probability of a war of movement, the French General Staff continued to think in terms of the trench warfare of the First World War. The German General Staff, on the other hand, fully alive to the strategic potentialities of mechanized warfare, planned its campaigns in terms of unprecedented mobil- ity. The conflagration of these two conceptions, not only in France but also in Poland and the Soviet Union, produced in the ‘‘blitzkrieg” a superiority of German power which brought Germany close to final victory. The intel- lectual shock and the military and political devastation caused by the on- slaught of Hitler’s panzers and divebombers upon the Polish cavalry in 1939 and upon the immobile French Army in 1940 ushered in a new period of military history similar to the one initiated by Charles VIII’s invasion of Italy in 1494. But, while the Italian states had nobody to fall back on in order to recover their strength, in the Second World War the superior technology of the United States and the superior manpower of the Soviet Union turned Hider’s strategical innovations to his destruction. Thn power. o Lamation in iniht^ is also dependent upon th e quan^ tity of men and arms and their distribution among the different brand^ s of the military establishment A nation may have a gooH’giisp'oFtecEno^ innovations in warfare. Its military leaders may excel in the strategy and tactics; appropriate to the new techniques of war. Yet such a nation may be militarily and, ia consequence, also politically weak if it does not po^ess a military estabfishment which in its over-^11 strength and in the strength of its component parts is nether too btrge nor too small in view of the tasks which it may be called ujK>n to perform. Must a nation, in order to be strong, pos^s a large army or i$ power not impaired by having, at least in peace- ® Winston ChurcMtPs Secret Session Speeches (New York: Simon and Schustef, 1946), PP- 53 ff. , (90) 'Elements of 'National Tower time, only a small army, composed o£ highly trained, specialized units? Have large navies become obsolete, or do battleships and heavy cruisers still fulfill a useful purpose? How large a military establishment can a nation afford in view of its resources and commitments? Does concern for national power re- quire large-scale peacetime production of aircraft and other mechanized weapons, or should a nation, in view of rapid changes in technology, spend its resources on research and on the production of limited quantities of im- proved types of weapons? Whether a nation gives the right or the wrong answer to such questions of a quantitative character has obviously a direct bearing upon national power. Can decision in war be forced by one new weapon, such as artillery, as was thought at the turn of the fifteenth century, or the submarine, as the Ger- mans thought in the First World War, or the airplane, as was widely be- lieved in the period between the two world wars, or the atomic bomb, as many believe today? The wrong answers given to some of these questions by Great Britain and France in the period between the two world wars preserved for them the semblance of power in terms of the traditional military con- ceptions. But those errors brought them to the brink of final defeat in the course of the Second World War, whose military technique required differ- ent answers to these questions. Upon the quality of the answers which we give to these and similar questions today will depend the future power of the United States in relation to other nations. 5. POPULATION When we turn from material factors and those compounded of materiij and human elements to the purely human factors which determine the power of a nation, we have to distinguish quantitative and qualitative com- ponents. While among the latter we count national character, national morale, and the quality of diplomacy, the former needs to be discussed in terms of size of population. It would, of course, not be correct to say that the larger the population of a country, the greater the power of that country. For if such an unqualified correlation should exist between size of population and national power, China, with about 450 million inhabitants, would be the most powerful na- tion on earth, closely followed by India with about 400 million. The Soviet Union with 190 million and the United States with 145 million would run third and fourth, respectively. Though one is not justified in considering a country to be more powerful because its population is greater than that of most other countries, it is still true that no country can remain or become a first-rate power which does not belong the more populous nations of the earth. Without a large population it is impossible to establish and keep going the industrial plant necessary for the successful conduct of modern war; to put into the field the large number of combat groups to fight on land, on the sea, and in the air; and, finally, to fill the cadres of the troops, considerably more numerous than the combat troops, which must supply the latter with food, means of transportation and communication, ammunition, and weap- ( 91 ) Politics among ISIations ons. It is for this reason that imperialistic countries^ such as Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy , stimulate population J:mwth with-^ali kinds of iilOTtiVes, ^tEgn u se th at growth as an ideological pretext for imperialistic expansion. A comparison between the population of the United States and that of Australia and Canada will make clear the relation between size of population and national power. Australia has today, in an area of somewhat less than three million square miles, a population of about seven and one-half million, while the Canadian population, in an area of close to three and one-half mil- lion square miles, amounts to about twelve million. The United States, on the other hand, in an area which is smaller than Australia’s or Canada’s, has a population of 145 million, more than nineteen times larger than Australia’s and more than twelve times larger than Canada’s. With the population of either Australia or Canada, the United States could never have become the most powerfxil nation on earth. The waves of mass immigration in the nine- teenth and the first two decades of the twentieth centuries, brought to the United States this element of national power. Had the Immigration Law of 1924, limiting immigration to the United States to 150,000 persons a year, been enacted a hundred or even fifty years earlier, thirty-six or twenty-seven million people, respectively, would have been prevented from settling in the United States, and they and their descendants would have been lost to the United States. In pn pnlation of the United States amounted to close to eleve n million. By 1874, it had risen to fortv^ur million; by 1924, to 114 millio n. During that century the share of immigration in the growth of the American population was on the average close to 30 per cent, approaching 40 per cent in the period from 1880-1910. This is to say, the most spectacular rise in American population coincides with the absolute and relative peaks of im- migration. Free immigration from 1824 and, more particularly, from 1874 to 1924 is, therefore, mainly responsible for the abundance of manpower which has meant so much for the national power of the United States in war and peace. Without this immigration, it is unlikely that the population of the United States would amount to more than half of what it actually is today. In consequence, the national power of the United States would be inferior to what 145 million people make it today. Since size of population is one of the factors upon which national power rests and ance the power (rf one nation is always relative to the power of Gth^, the relative size of the population of countries competing for power and> ’<^eriaEy, the relative rate dE thek growth deserve careful attention. A country; for ii^t^noe> ipferi^ size of population to its competitor, will mew with alarm a ^#aing rat^ of grow^ if the population of its competitor ten& increase mom rapidly. SnA tfa ^situation of fiance w ith .m. Germany Si n ce that dat^ Jm population of France h as i 33 £ias^ ^igtanv h^ register ed a gain of twentv- ^ven nuBon. WM e M 180a every mvehdi Luro^^^ was a m 1930 only every thirteenth a la 1940^ Germany l;^d at its dispel about fi&mi m®ion ^rvice, whereas: France had only five million. : ^ On the other hand, the manpow^ between the Soviet ^U^on and 'Elements of National Power Germany is approximately the same as that between Germany and France^ that is, three to one, and has been moving in that direction for a long time. Ever since the unification in 1870, Germany has viewed sometimes with al^m, and always with respea, the Russian population figures which show a greater rate of increase than Germany’s. Looking at the situation as it existed at the outbreak of the First World War solely from the point of view of population trends, Germany could feel that time was on Russia’s side, and France could feel that time was on the side of Germany, while both Austria and Russia, for other reasons already alluded to,^ could believe that postpone- ment of the conflict would favor the opponent. Thus all the protagonists, with the exception of Great Britain, had reasons of their own to prefer a war in 1914 to a peaceful settlement which they could not regard as definite, but only as a breathing spell before the unavoidable settling of accounts. As the shifts in the distribution of power within Europe in recent history have been roughly duplicated by the changes in population trends, so the emergence of the United States as the great power center of the West, taking the place of Western and Central Europe, can be read in the population figures of the respective coimtries. In 1870, the population of France as well as of Germany exceeded that of the United States. Yet, in 1940, the popula- tion of the United States had increased by 100 million while the combined increase in the population of France and Germany in the same period amounted to only thirty-one million. It is obvious from what has been said thus far that in trying to assess the ftrture distribution of power the prediction of population trends plays an important role. All other factors remaining approximately equal, a consider- able decline in the manpower of a nation in comparison with its competitors on the international scene spells a decline in national power, and a consider- able increase, imder similar conditions, amounts to a gain in national strength. When, toward the end of the nineteenth century, the British Em- pire was the only world power in existence, its population amounted to about 400 million, that is, approximately one-fourth of the total population of the world. In 1946, it came close to 550 million. Since India’s population is esti- mated at 400 million, these figures illustrate the enormous loss in national power, in terms of population size alone, which the British Empire would suffer in the loss of India. Assuming the continuation of past trends without interference by war or natural catastrophes and taking the year 1970 as their point of reference, population experts foresee considerable increases in the populations of the United States, the Soviet Union, the countries of Eastern and Southern Eu- rope, and a considerable decline in the manpower of the nations of Western and Central Europe. According to these fiDrecasts, the population of the Unifed Stat^ will have risen by 1970 to at least 155 rnillion, that of the Soviet ISaion to at 250 million, those of the eight countries of the Russian ^ ^her c of infti^ce from the Baltic to the Bosphorus from close to 90 million in 3^948 to 125 million, while the population of Great Britain will have decked &om 47 miBioii in 1945 to about 40 million, and that of France from ( 93 ) Politics among Nations 42 million in 1938 to 35 million. I£ this shift in population sizes should come to pass, the Soviet Union will have a larger population than Germany, Great Britain, France, and the rest of Western and Central Europe combined, and the population of the Soviet Union and her satellites will exceed the popula- tion of the rest of Europe. If the countries actively engaged in the defense of Western civilization will have been able in 1970 to preserve their present manpower, while the countries in the Russian orbit will by then have in- creased theirs by about two-fifths, it will be the result of population gains of the United States and of Southern Europe. From the point of view of population, the position of the United States will in 1970 still show considerable strength in comparison with Western Europe because of the latter’s anticipated losses. But compared with the pop- ulation trend in Latin America, the position of the United States is well on its way to deterioration. Latin America shows the greatest rate of increase of any major region in the world. In iqoq, Latin America had an esti mate d sixty-three million inhabitants to seventy-five million for the Unite d States ; in 1948 it was 153 million fo r Latin America to 145 mSISoirforl Fe^Un^ ^ Stages. In iq 7 0 . the relation between Latin America and the Uhited*Stat^ is estimated to be 200-25 million to 155-70 million. The population of Argen tina abac rnoreLtharndnuhled. ■ij>T4.and-j[948 and-ix. now „r.1ose.j:o^.ven- teen million. In the same period the population of the United States ha s only risen from qq to 14°? million. It is, however, not sufficient to know the over-all population figures of different countries in order to assess correedy the influence of the population factor upon national power. The age distrib ution within a given population is tLment i n p^wer caIc p^ ^^^nnX All ntbertEihfxs heftig equal a nation with a relatively large population of maximum potential usefulness for military and productive purposes (roughly between twenty and forty years of age) will have an edge in power over a nation in whose population the older age groups relatively predominate. If the anticipated trends should materialize, the total population of the United States vnU increase between 1945 and 1970 by close to 20 per cent while the age group of maximum poten- tial usefxilness wiU increase by only 9 per cent. In the same period, the total population of the Soviet Union will Increase by about 35 per cent, and the age group under consideration by about 20 per cent. Echoing Augustus and his successors on the throne of the Roman Empire, ' Winston Churchill, as British Prime Minister, voiced his alarm at the differ- ent situation in which Great Britain finds itself in this respect. He expressed himself oh this subject in his radio address of March 22, 1943 : One of the most somber anxieties which beset those who look thirty, or forty, or fifty years ahead, and in this field one can see ahead only too clearly, is the dwindling birth-rate. In thirty years, unless present trends alter, a smaller working and fighting population will have to support and protect nearly twice as many old people; in fifty years the position will be worse still. If this country is to keep its high place in the Icader^p of the world, and to survive as a great power that can hold its own again^ external pressures, our people must be encouraged by every means to have larger families. Politics among Nations 6. NATIONAL CHARACTER Of the three human factors of a qualitative nature which have a bearing on national power, national character and national morale stand out both for their elusiveness from the point of view of rational prognosis and for their permanent and often decisive influence upon the weight which a nation is able to put into the scales of international politics. We are here not concerned with the question as to what factors are responsible for the development of a national character. We are here only interested in the fact — contested but, it seems to us, incontestable — that certain qualities of intellect and character occur more frequently and are more highly valued in one nation than in an- other. These qualities set one nation apart from others and they show a high degree of resiliency to change. A few examples, taken at random, will illus- trate the point. Is it not an incontestable fact that, as John Dewey® and many others have pointed out, Kant and Hegel are as typical of the philosophical tradi- tion of Germany, as Descartes and Voltaire are of the French mind, as Locke and Burke are of the political thought of Great Britain, as William James and John Dewey are of the typical American approach to intellectual prob- lems ? And can it be denied that these philosophic differences are but expres- sions, on the highest level of abstraction and systematization, of fundamental intellectual and moral traits which reveal themselves on all levels of thought and action and which give each nation its unmistakable distinctiveness? The mechanistic rationality and the systematic perfection of Descartes’ philosophy reappear in the tragedies of Corneille and Racine no less than in the rational- istic ft^ of Jacobin reform. They reappear in the sterility of the academic formalism which characterizes much of the contemporary intellectual life of France. They reappear in the scores of peace plans, logically perfect but impracticable, in which French statecraft excelled in the period between the two World wars. On the other hand, the trait of intellectual curiosity which Julim Caesar detected in the Gauls has remained throughout the ages a dis- tinctive characteristic of the French mind. : /^Locke’s philosophy is as nmeh a manifestation of British individualism a s My sfflta a anism. I n Edamod Buik^ with XUS undogmatic combination of moral principle and political expediency, the politic^ genius of the British people fev^ds itself as much as in the Reform Acts of the nineteenth century or in the balance of power ptditits o| ^din^ Wtdscy and Canmjg. What Tacjtu^ said of die politi- and nuhtary propenritics of the Gemianic tribes fitted armies of Fred- ®rick ip^^ossa no Jess than those William II and of Hitier. It fits, too, the fis^^n^ tudmeM and clumsy deviousness ctf Germaa'tfiplomacy. The autfaof^irlanisffla, cpifesivism, and aate worsh%) pf Germai philosophy have their counterpart ia '^. tiaditiem dE sutocratic govemra^t, in ser^e ao ceptance 4 atoy sp long as it Warn to hSve the wU and force to prevail, and, concomit^ tfith k, afU com^e^-the disregard of individual rig hts, and iie ahsemse pf' V lrai^n Ih^. The ® Gemum VKhsofhy ofd ggas., ; ' Elements of National Power description of the American national character, as it emerges from De Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, has not been deprived of its timeliness by the intervention of more than a century* The indecision of American pragmatism between an implicit dogmatic idealism and reliance upon suc^ cess as a measure of truth is reflected in the vacillations of American diplo- macy between the Four Freedoms and the Atlantic Charter, on the one hand, and “dollar diplomacy,” on the other. The existence and stability of a Chinese national character can hardly be denied. As for Russia, the juxtaposition of two experiences, almost a century apart, will provide striking proof of the persistence of certain intellectual and moral qualities. Bismarck wrote in his memoirs: At the time of my first stay at St. Petersburg, in 1859, 1 had an example of another Russian peculiarity. During the first spring days it was then the custom for everyone connected with the court to promenade in the Summer Garden between Paul’s Palace and the Neva. There the Emperor had noticed a sentry standing in the middle of a grass plot; in reply to the question why he was standing there, the soldier could only answer, “Those are my orders.” The Emperor therefore sent one of his adjutants to the guard-room to make in- a uiries; but no explanation was forthcoming except that a sentry had to stand lere winter and summer. The source of the original order could no longer be discovered. The matter was talked of at court, and reached the ears of the servants. One of them, an older pensioner, came forward and stated that his father had once said to him as they passed the sentry in the Summer Garden: “There he is, still standing to guard the flower; on that spot the Empress Catherine once noticed a snowdrop in bloom imusually early, and gave orders that it was not to be plucked.” This command had been carried out by placing a sentry on the spot, and ever since then one had stood there all the year round. Stories of this sort excite our amusement and criticism, but they arc an ex- pression of the elementary force and persistence on which the strengdi of the Rus- sian nature depends in its attitude towards the rest of Europe. It reminds us of the sentinels in the flood at St. Petersburg in 1825, and in the Shipka Pass in 1877; not being relieved, the former were drowned, the latter frozen to death at their posts.® In Time magazine of April 21, 1947, we read the following report: Down Potsdam^s slushy Berlinerstrasse stumbled twelve haggard men. . . . Their faces had the pale, creased look of prisoners. Behind them trudged a stubby, broad-faced Russian soldier. Tommy gun crooked in his right arm, the wide Ukrainian steppe in his blue eyes. Approaching the Stadtbahn station, the group met a stream of men and women hurrying home from work. An angular, middle-aged woman suddenly sighted the twelve men. She Stopp^ m her tracks, stared wide-eyed at them for a full minute. Then she dropped her threadbare market bag, flew across the street in front of a lumber- ing (itarco^I-hurniiig truck and threw herself with a gasping cry upon the third ^ prisoi^. prisoners and passers-by paused and gaped dumbly at the two fin^^ng the backs of each other’s rough coats and mum- ^hl^ |iyst^i^^;.f " . . wAss nicht!* *'Warutn 7 ' . . weiss nicht." t ^ and Statesmm, Mng the Refiections and Reminiscences of Om, and London: Harpet and Brotbers, 1899), I, 250- (97) Politics among Nations Slowly the Russian walked around his charges and approached the couple. Slowly a grin covered his face. He tapped the woman on the back. She shud- dered, Rigid apprehension spread over the faces of the onlookers, but the Rus- sian rumbled soothingly: '^Keine Angst- Keine Angst/* (No fear. No fear.) Then he waved the muzzle of his Tommy gun toward the prisoner, who in- stinctively recoiled a step, and asked: '"Dein Mann?** **]a/* replied the woman, tears streaming down her cheeks. **Gu-ut/* grunted the Russian, wrinkling his nose. **Niinm mit/* and he gave the bewildered prisoner a gende shove toward the sidewalk. The spectators exhaled a mass sigh of relief as the couple stumbled off de- liriously, hand in hand. Eleven prisoners, muttering to each other, pushed on down the street past the muttering crowd: “Unpredictable Russians ... in- credible ... I can’t understand ... I don’t understand the Russians,” The Russian shufEled along stoically, gripping a long papirosa between yel- low stained teeth as he fished in a pocket for matches. Sudaenly his face clouded. He hitched the Tommy gun higher under his arm, took a dirty piece of paper from the wide, ragged sleeve of his shinel, and scowled at it. After a few steps he stuffed the paper back carefully, stared for a moment at the bent backs of the prisoners, then searched the strained faces of a new load of commuters just leaving the station. With no fuss, the Russian stepped up to a youngish man with a briefcase imder his arm and a dirty brown felt hat pulled over his ears, and commanded: **Eeh, Dul Komml** The German froze, casting a terrified glance over his shoulder at the frightened stream of men and women who were trying not to see or hear. The Russian waved his Tommy gun and curled his lip. '^Komml** He pushed his petrified recruit roughly into the gutter. Again the prisoners were twelve. The Russian’s face relaxed. With a third sputtering match he lighted his papirosa and placidly blew smoke toward the tense Germans scurrying home through the gathering dusk.^® Between these two episodes a great revolution intervened, interrupting the historic continuity on practically all levels of national life. Yet the traits of Russian national character emerged intact from the holocaust of that revo- lution- Even so thorough a change in the social and economic structure, in political leadership and institutions, in the ways of life and thought has not been able to affect the “elementary force and persistence” of the Russian character which Bismarck foimd revealed in his experience and which reveal themselves in the Russian soldier of Potsdam as well. National character cannot fail to influence national power; for those who act for the nation in peace and war, formulate, execute, and support its poli- cies, eket and arc elected, mold public opinion, produce and consume — they all bear to a greater or le$^ degree the imprint of those intellectual and moral qualities which make up the national character. The “elementary force and persistence” of the Russians, the individual initiative and inventiveness of the Americans, the undogmatic common sense of the British, the discipline and thoroughness of the Germans ai'e some of die qualities which will mani- fest themselves, for better or for wor^ in all the individual and collective activities in which the members of a nation can engage. In consequence of the differences in national character, the German and Russian governments, for ^0 Ttmff, April 21, p. 32. (Used by permisaota of Time, Copyright Time Ibc., 1947.) Elements of ISIational Power instance, have been able to embark upon foreign policies which the Ameri- ca and British governments would have been incapable of pursuing, and vice versa. Anti-militarism, aversion to standing armies and to compulsory military service are permanent traits of the American and British nations^ character. Yet the same institutions and activities have for centuries stood high in the hierarchy of values of Prussia, from where their prestige spread over all of Germany. In Russia the tradition of obedience to the authority of the government and the traditional fear of the foreigner have made l^ge permanent military establishments acceptable to the population. Thus the national character has ^ven G^many and Russia an initial ad- vantage in the struggle for power, since they could transform in peacetime a greater portion of dieir national resources into instruments of war. On the other hand, the reluctance of the American and British peoples to consider such a transformation, especially on a large scale and with respect to man- power, except in an obvious national emergency, has imposed a severe handi- cap upon the tactics and strategy of American and British foreign policy. Governments, such as that of the Nazis, can plan, prepare, and wage war at the moment of their choosing. They can^ more particularly, start a preven- tive war whenever it seems to be most propitious for their cause. Govern- ments, such as the American, are in this respect in a much more difiScult situation and have much less freedom of action. Restrained as they are by the iimate anti-militarism of their peoples, they must pursue a more cautious course in foreign affairs. Frequendy the rnilitary strength actually at their disposal will not be commensurate to the polidcal commitments which their concern for the national interest imposes upon them. In other words, they will not have the armed might suflScient to back up their policies. When they go to war, they will generally do so on the terms of their enemies. They must rely upon other traits in the national character and upon other compensating factors, such as geographical location and industrial potential, to carry them over the initial period of weakness and inferiority to ultimate victory. Such can be the effects, for good or evil, of the character of a nation. The observer of the international scene who attempts to assess the relative strength of different nations must take national character into account, how- ever difficult it may be to assess correedy so elusive and intangible a factor. Failure to do so will lead to errors in judgment and policies, such as the de- preciation of the recuperative force of Germany after the First World War and the underestimation of Russian staying power in 1941-42. The Treaty of Versailles could restrict Germany in all the other implements of national power, such as territory, sources of raw materials, industrial capacity, and military establishment. But it coxild not take away from Germany fhose quali- ties of intellect and character which enabled it within a period of two decades to rebuild what it had lost and to emerge as the strongest single military power in the world. The virtually unanimous opinion of the military experts who in 1942 gave the Russian Army only a few more months of resistance, may have been ct^rect in purely military terms, such as military strategy, mobility, industrial resources, and the like. Yet this expert opinion was ob- viously mistaken in underrating that factor of “elementary force and persist- ence” which better judgment has recognized as the great source of Russian Politics among Nations strength in its dealings with Europe. The pessimism which in 1940 denied Great Britain a chance for survival had its roots in a similar neglect or mis- reading of the national character of the British people. We have already mentioned in another context the contempt in which American power was held by the German leaders before the Second World War.^^ It is interesting to note that exactly the same mistake, and for the same reason, was made by the German leaders during the First World War. Thus, in October 1916, the German Secretary of the Navy estimated the significance of the United States joining the Allies to be ‘'zero,” and another German minister of that period declared in a parliamentary speech, after the United States had actually entered the First World War on the side of the Allies : “The Americans cannot swim and they cannot fly, the Americans will never come.” In both cases, the German leaders underestimated American power by paying attention exclusively to the quality of the military establish- ment at a particular moment, to the anti-militarism of the American char- acter, and to the factor of geographical distance. They disregarded com- pletely the qualities of the American character, such as individual initiative, gift for improvisation, and technical skill, which, together with the other material factors and under favorable conditions, might more than outweigh the disadvantages of geographical remoteness and of a dilapidated military establishment. On the other hand, the belief of many experts, at least until the battle of Stalingrad, in the invincibility of Germany drew its strength from the ma- terial factors as well as from certain aspects of the German national char- acter which seemed to favor total victory. These experts neglected other aspects of the national character of the German people, in particular their lack of moderation. From the emperors of the Middle Ages and the warlords of the Thirty Years’ War to William II and Hitler, this lack of moderation has proved to be the one fatal weakness of the German national character. Unable to restrain goal and action within the limits of the possible, the Ger- mans have time and again squandered and ultimately destroyed the national power of Germany built upon other material and human factors. 7. NATIONAL MORALE More elusive arid 1 ^ ^ble, but no less important than all the other fac- tu^ war losses in men and territory and the mismanagement of an autocratic government The morale of oth^s will only slowly decline and, as it. wefe, corrode . at the edges and not break at all in one sudden collapse, even \^heja es^pused to a rare combination of governmental mismanagement, dey^tatio®, inya^on, and a hopele^ wir Muation. Such was the case of the Qermans in the. fast stage of the. Second World War, when a number of mffitary leaders and former high officials gave up the lost cause while the massed of the people on until piactically the moment of Hitler’s sui- ( lOI ) Politics among Nations cide. This persistence o£ German morale in 1945 under most unfavorable cir- cumstances is particularly illustrative of the unpredictability of such collective reactions. Under much less severe circumstances the national morale of Ger- many collapsed in November 1918, a precedent which should have presaged a similar collapse of German morale sometime in the summer of 1944, after the Allied invasion of France. While national morale is subjected to its ultimate test in war, it is im- portant whenever a nation’s power is brought to bear on an international problem. It is important partly because of the anticipated effects of national morale upon military strength, partly because national morale influences the determination with which the government pursues its foreign policies. Any segment of the population which feels itself permanently deprived of its rights and of full participation in the life of the nation will tend to have a lower national morale, to be less “patriotic” than those who do not suffer from such disabilities. The same is likely to be true of those whose vital aspirations diverge from the permanent policies pursued by the majority or by the government. Whenever deep dissensions tear a people apart, the pop- ular support which can be mustered for a foreign policy will dways be pre- carious and will be actually small if the success or failure of the foreign policy has a direct bearing upon the issue of the domestic struggle. Autocratic governments, which in the formulation of their policies do not take the wishes of the people into account, cannot rely upon much popular support for their foreign policies. Such was the case in countries like czarist Russia and the Austrian monarchy. The example of Austria is particularly instructive. Many of the foreign policies of that country, especially with re- spect to the Slavic nations, aimed at weakening the latter in order better to be able to keep in check the Slavic nationalities living under Austrian rule. In consequence, these Slavic nationalities tended to be at best indifferent to the foreign policies of their own government and at worst to support ac- tively the policies of Slavic governments directed against their own. Thus it is not surprising that during the First World War whole Slavic units of the Austro-Hungarian Army went over to the Russians. The government dared to use others only against non-Slavic enemies, such as the Italians. For similar reasons, during the First World War the German Army used Alsatian units against the Russians, and Polish units against the French. The Soviet Union had a similar experience of lack of morale during the Second World War when certain units composed of Ukrainians and Cos- sacks desert^ to the Germans and fought the Russian armies. Great Britain has had the same expericn<^ with India, whose national energies have but unwillingiy and with reservations supported the foreign policies of its alien master, if they did n<^ like Bose and his followers during the Second World War, come to the assistance of the alien master’s enemy. Napoleon and Hider had to learn to thdr dismay that among the spoils of foreign conquest popu- lar support Q& the conqueror’s policies is not necessarily to be found. The amount and strength of the support which Hider, for instance, found among the conquered peoples of Europe was in inverse ratio to the quality of tl^ national morale of the particular people. Any country with deep and unbridgeable class divisions will find its ( 102 ) Elements of ISIational Power tional morale in a precarious state. French power before and during the Sec- ond World War suffered from this weakness. From the time of Hitler’s ascent to power, the vacillating foreign policies of the French governments, following each other in rapid succession and concealing their impotence be- hind the ideologies of a status quo which they were unwilling and incapable of defending, had already weakened the national morale of the French peo- ple as a whole. The crises of 1938-39, with the ever renewed threat of war and general mobilizations to meet it, followed by Hitler’s successes, de- mobilizations, and an increasingly precarious peace, had contributed power- fully to the general decay of French morale. While there was decay every- where, there was actual collapse only in two important sectors of French society. On the one hand, faced with certain limitations of their powers by social legislation, considerable groups of the French upper classes rallied to the cry, “Rather Hitler than Blum!” Although Hitler threatened the posi- tion of France in Europe and its very existence as a nation, these groups were unable to give whole-hearted support to the French foreign policy op- posing Hitler. After the conquest of France they favored the domination of France by Hitler rather than its liberation from the foreign dictator. On the other hand, the Communists, for different reasons, undermined the national morale of France so long as Hider fought only the capitalists of the West. It was only after he had attacked the Soviet Union that they contributed new strength to French national morale by being found in the forefront of the resistance against the invader. However, unpredictable the quality of national morale, especially at a moment of great crisis, there are obvious situations where national morale is likely to be high, while under certain different conditions the odds are in favor of a low state of national morale. One can say, in general, that the more closely identified a people are with the actions and objectives of their govern- ment, especially, of course, in foreign affairs, the better are the chances for national morale to be high, and vice versa. Thus it can surprise only those who mistakenly think of the modern totalitarian state in terms of the autoc- racies of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that in Nazi Germany na- tional morale was high almost to the last. It declined slowly rather than breaking in one sudden collapse as it did in November 1918. The great bulk of the Russian people, despite the greatest hardships in war and peace, have consistently shown a high degree of national morale. The modern totalitarian state has been able to fill the gap between government and people, a gap which was typical of the monarchies of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, through the use of democratic sym- bols, totalitarian control of public opinion, and policies actually or seemingly benefiting the people. Practically all national energies flow into the channels chosen by tie government, and the identification of the individual with the state, which we have recognized as one of the characteristics of modern politics, reaches under the stimulation of totalitarianism the intensity of religious fervor. Therefore, so long as totalitarian governments arc, or seem to be, successful, or can at least hold out hope for success, they can See above, pp. 75 ff- ( 103 ) Politics among Nations count upon the determined support of their peoples for the foreign policies which they pursue. What totalitarianism can achieve only by force, fraud, and deification of the sUte, democr acy mu st pry to accomplish through the free interplay of pop- ular lorS ^ by a wise and r^ponsible government. Where the govern- ment is imable to prevent the degeneration of this interplay into class, racial, or religious conflicts, tending to split the national community into warring groups, national morale is likely to be low, at least among the victimized groups if not among the people as a whole. The policies of France before and during the Second World War illustrate this point. So does the weakness of the foreign policies in peace and war of countries where feudal aristocracies control the government and oppress the people, such as Spain, Portugal, and numerous Latin-American countries. The governments of such nations can never choose and pursue their foreign objectives with any degree of deter- mination, even at the risk of war, because they can never be sure of the sup- port of their peoples. They constantly fear lest the domestic opposition ex- ploit difficulties and reverses in the international field for the purpose of overthrowing the regime. Where, however, a government speaks as the mouthpiece, and acts as the executor, of the popular will, national morale is likely to reflect the real identity between popular aspirations and govern- mental actions. The national morale of Denmark imder the German occu- pation from 1940 to the end of the Second World War illustrates this point no less strikingly than did the national morale of Germany imtil the defeat at Stalingrad. In the last analysis, then, the power of a nation from the point of view of its national morale resides in the quality of its government. A government that is truly representative, not only in the sense of parliamentary majorities, but above all in the sense of being able to translate the inarticulate convic- tions and aspirations of the people into international objectives and policies, has the best chance to marshal the national energies in support oi those ob- jectives and policies. The adage that free men fight better than slaves can be amplified into the proposition that nations well governed are likely to have a higher national morie than nations poorly governed. The quality of gov- ernment is patently a source of strength or weakness with respect to most of the h^toTS upon which national power depends, especially in view of the in- fli^ce of governmental activities updn natural resources, industrial capacity, mid miltary preparedness. F(^ the t^uality of national morale, the c^u^ty o f takes on a sp^ai importance. W hereas it operates upon the sfS i iiir^ i 31 Kifj M I SK n I m » on in vain. Yet the only means of ^Ebera^y ( 104 ) Elements of National Power 8. THE QUALITY OF DIPLOMACY' p£ all the factors which make for the power of a nation, the most im- pf^d^^ p 1 diplomacy; . ■ A ti-Ae other factors which determine national power are, as it were, the raw ma- terial out of which the power of a nation is fashioned. The quality of a na- tion’s diplomacy combines those different factors into an integrated whole, gives them direction and weight, and awakens their slumbering potentialities by ^ving them the breath of actual power. The conduct of a nation’s foreign affairs by its diplomats is for national power in peace what military strategy and tactics by its military leaders are for national power in war. It is the art of bringing the different elements of national power to bear with maximum effect upon those points in the international situation which concern the na- tional interest most directly. Diplomacy, one might say, is the brains of national power, as national morale is its soul. If its vision is blurred, its judgment defective, and its de- termination feeble, all the advantages of geographical location, of self-suffi- ciency in food, raw materials, and industrial production, of military prepared- ness, of size and quality of population will in the long run avail a nation little. A nation which can boast of all these advantages, but not of a diplo- macy commensurate with them, may achieve temporary successes through the sheer weight of its natural assets. In the long nm, it is likely to squander the natural assets by activating them incompletely, haltingly, and wastefully for the nation’s international objectives. In the long run, such a nation must yield to a nation whose diplomacy is able to make the most of whatever other elements of power are at its disposal, thus making up through its own excellence for deficiencies in other fields. By using the power potentialities of a nation to best advantage, a competent diplomacy can increase the power of a nation beyond what one would pect it to be in view of all the other factors combined. Often in history the Goliath without brains or soul has been smitten and slain by the David who had both. Diplomacy of high quality will bring the ends and means of for- eign policy into harmony with the available resources of national power. It wiU tap the hidden sources of national strength and transform them fully and securely into political realities. By giving Erection to the national effort, it ^11 in turn increase the independent weight of certain factors, such as in- dustrial potential, military preparedness, national character, and morale. It is for this reason that national power is apt to rise to its height fulfilling all its potentialities, particularly in times of war, when ends and means of policy are clearly laid out. The United Smes, in the period between the two world wars, furnishes .a, striking example of a potentially powerful nation playing a minor role in eWorld a&irs &qEUse its foreign poli^ rrfused to bring the full weight of .potential to bear upon international problems. As far as the ‘ ^ ^ xtstd ia die fdlowin^ pages, we refer to die formatHm and ^e^ectidoa ol on all Icvdk, the highest as as the subordinate. On the sut^ect matter liboasscd see ?art Tcu- (105) Politics among Nations power o£ the United States on the international scene was concerned, the ad- vantages o£ geography, natural resources, industrial potential, and size and quality o£ population might as well have not existed at all, £or American diplomacy proceeded as though they did not exist* The trans£orination which American £oreign policy has undergone in re- cent years has not answered definitively the question whether, and to what extent, American diplomacy is willing and able to trans£orm the potentialities o£ national power into political actualities. In an article significantly en- titled, “Imperialism or Indifference,” the London Economist poses the same question £or our time. After enumerating the factors which, taken by them- selves, would make the United States the most powerful nation on earth, the Economist continues: But though these things are essential ingredients, they are not all that it takes to make a Great Power. There must also be the willingness, and the ability, to use economic resources in support of national policy. The rulers of Soviet Russia ... are not likely, at least for a generation to come, to have nearly as good cards in their hands as the Americans, But the nature of their system of concentrated power and iron censorship enables them to play a forcing game. The Americans’ hand is all trumps; but will any of them ever be played? And for what purpose? The classic example of a country which, while in other respects hope- lessly outclassed, returned to the heights of power chiefly by virtue of its bril- liant diplomacy is France in the period from 1890 to 1914. After its defeat in 1870 at the hands of Germany, France was a second-rate power, and Bis- marck's statecraft, by isolating it, kept it in that position. With Bismarck's dismissal in 1890, Germany’s foreign policy turned away from Russia and was unwilling to alleviate Great Britain’s suspicion. French diplomacy took full advantage of those mistakes of German foreign policy. In 1894, France added a military alliance to the political understanding reached "with Russia, in 1891; in 1904 and 1912, it entered into informal agreements with Great Britain. The constellation of 1914 which found France aided by potent allies and Germany deserted by one and burdened with the weakness of the others was in the main the work of a galaxy of brilliant French diplomatists: Camille Barr^re, Ambassador to Italy, Jules Cambon, Ambassador to Germany, Paul Cambon, Ambassador to Great Britain, Maurice Pal&logue, Ambassador to Russia. In the period between the two world wars, Rumania owed its ability to play a rofe in international aflfairs much superior to its actual resources chiefly to the personality of one man, its Foreign Minister Titulescu, Simi- larly, so small and precariously located a country as Belgium owed a great deal of rihe power it was able to exercise during the nineteenth century to two shrewd and active kings, lipoid I and Leopold II. The ups and downs of British power are dosely connected ynth changes in the quality of British diptomacy. Cardinal, Wols^, Castlereagh and Canning signify the summits of British diplomacy as well as of British power, while Lord North and Neville Chainberlain stand for the decline dE both. What would the power of Economist, May 24, 1947, p. 7S5. by pimmsaoii.) ( 106 ) Elements of ISIational Power France bave been without the statecraft of Richelieu, Mazarin, and Talley- rand? What would Germany’s power have been without Bismarck? Italy’s without Cavour? And what does the power of the young American Re- public not owe to Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Jay, the Adamses, its am- bassadors and secretaries of state? Nations must rely upon the quality of their diplomacy to act as a catalyst fcuLthe different factors which constitute their power. In other words, these different factors, as they are brought to bear upon an intexnational problem by di^ are what is called a nation^s power. Therefore, it is of the utmost importance that the good quality of the diplomatic service be constant. And constant quality is best assured by dependence upon tradition and institutions rather dian upon the sporadic appearance of outstanding individuals. It is to tradition that Great Britain owes the relative constancy of its power from Henry VIII to the First World War. Whatever the whims and shortcomings of its kings and ministers may have been, the traditions of its ruling class and, in recent times, its professional foreign service were able, a few notable exceptions notwithstanding, to mold the prerequisites of na- tional power, with which Great Britain was endowed, into the greatness of its actual power. It is no accident that when, due to the diplomacy of Stanley Baldwin and Neville Chamberlain, British power reached its lowest point in centuries, the professionals of the Foreign OflBce had little influence upon the conduct of British foreign policy, and that the two men mainly responsible for it were, in terms of family tradition, businessmen and new- comers to the aristocracy which for centuries had ruled Great Britain. In Winston Churchill, the sdon of a ruling family, the aristocratic traditions were again brought to bear upon the national power of Great Britain. To- day the institutional excellence of the British foreign service reveals itself in the skill with which Great Britain retreats from India and brings its com- mitments all over the world into harmony with the reduced resources of its national power. On the other hand, Germany owed its power to the demoniac genius of two men, Bismarck and Hitler. Since Bismarck’s personality and policies made it impossible for traditions and institutions to develop which might have been able to perpetuate the intelligent conduct of Germany’s foreign policy, his disappearance from the politied scene in 1890 was the signal for a deep and permanent drop in the quality of German diplomacy. The con- sequent deterioration of Germany’s international position culminated in the military predicament with which the First World War confronted it. In the case of BQtler, the strength and weakness of German diplomacy lay in the mind of the Fuhrer himself. The victories which German diplomacy won from 1933 to 1940 were the victories of one man’s mind, and the deteriora- tion of riiat mind was a direct cause of the disasters which marked the last years of the Nazi regime. The national suicide of Germany in the last months of the Second World War, when military resistance had become a futile gesture paid for in hundreds of thousands of lives and the ruin of cities, and Hitler’s suicide in the last stage of the war — the self-extinction, in other words, of Germany’s national power and of the life of its leader — are both the work of one man. That man was unfettered by those traditions and in- ( 107 ) Politics among Nations stitutional safeguards by which healthy political systems try to provide for continuity in the quality of diplomacy and thus tend to inhibit the spectacular successes of genius as well as the abysmal blunders of madmen. So far as continuity in the quality of the conduct of foreign affairs is con- cerned, the United States stands between the continuous high quality of British diplomacy and the traditional low quality, interrupted by short-lived triumphs, of German foreign policy. With an unchallengeable superiority in material and human resources at its disposal, American diplomacy in the Western Hemisphere could not fail to be successful in some measure, re- gardless of the quality of its foreign policy. The same has been true to a lesser degree in ^e relations between the United States and the rest of the world. The “big stick’* in the form of the material superiority of the United States spoke its own language, regardless of whether American diplomacy spoke in a soft or loud voice, in articulate or confused terms, with or with- out a clearly conceived purpose. The brilliance of the first decades of Ameri- can diplomacy was followed by a long period of mediocrity, if not ineptitude, interrupted under the impact of great crises by two brief periods of great achievements imder Woodrow Wilson and Franklin D. Roosevelt. While American diplomacy was thus lacking in the institutional excellence of the British, it had the benefit of material conditions which even poor statecraft could hardly dissipate. Furthermore, it could draw upon a national tradition, as formulated in Washington’s Farewell Address and, more particularly, in the Monroe Doctrine. The guidance of this tradition would protect a poor diplomacy from catastrophic blunders and make a mediocre diplomacy look bmer than it actually was. ( 108 ) CHAPTER VUI Evaluation of National Power I. THE TASK OF EVALUATION Such are the different factors which determine the power of nations on the international scene. It is the task of those responsible for the foreign policy of a country and of those who mold public opinion with regard to international affairs to evaluate correcdy the b^ing of these different factors upon the power of their own country and of other countries as well, and this task must be performed for both the present and the future. What, is the ptobablCuiinflUr . ence of what is called the unification of the arm ed ^ryices upon the quahty of the ihiHtaurY estabffsEmSrroFffic tJn^^ eS^t ^wilf me^ of atomic cSergy have upon the industnaT^p^ty of the Om te^ ^tatcs and^ofotfief cduhtries? What wll the vicfor^dfeitESr tEe^KuonoIntang or tfie* cln rnTTtiinis fs in the civil war mean for the industrial capacity and national morale of China? What will political independence mean for the national morale of India? What is the significance of the revival of German industry for the national power of Germany? Will re-education be able to change the German national character? How will the national character of the people of Argentina react upon the political philosophies methods, and objectives of the Per6n regime? In what ways does the advancement of the Russian sphere of influence to the Elbe River affect the g«>graphical position of the Soviet Union? Will this or that reorganization or change in the personnel of the State Department strengthen or weaken the quality of American diplo- macy? These are some of the questions which must be answered correidy if a nation’s foreign policy is to be successfuL Yet these questions referring to changes in one particular factor are not the most difficult to answer. There are others which concern the influence of char^^es in one factor upon other factors, and here the difficulties increase and the pitfalls multiply. What is, for instancy the import of the modem technology of warfare for the geographical position of the United States? Ifow, in words, do guided miskles and fast-flying aircraft affect the geog^phical isolation of the United States from other continents? To what cfefTee wiB the United States lose, and to what degree will it retain, its inifriyhiSty to overseas attack? What do the same technological togedber with the American monopoly of the atomic bomb, in view of the geographical character of Russian territory ? To what ( 109 ) Politics among Nations extent have these factors reduced the protective function of the wide expanses of the Russian plains? And what, in this context, of the protection which the Channel has since the beginning of British history afforded to Great Britain? What will the industrialization of Argentina, China, and India signify for the military strength of these countries? What is the relative importance of the Ajnerican Army, Navy, and Air Force in view of changes in the tech- nology of warfare? What does the comparatively slow increase of the Ameri- can population in the next two decades and the more rapid increase of the populations of Latin America, India, China, and the Soviet Union portend for the industrial capacity and military strength of the respective countries? How will fluctuations in industrial production affect the national morale of the United States, the Soviet Union, Germany, Great Britain, and France? Will the British national character preserve its traditional qualities under the impact of the fundamental changes which the industrial capacity, the eco- nomic organization, the military strength, and the geographical isolation of Great Britain are undergoing? The task of the analyst of national power does not, however, stop here. He must yet try to answer another group of questions of a still higher order of difficulty. These questions concern the comparison of one power factor in one country with the same or another power factor in another country. In other words, they concern the relative weight of changes in the individual components of the power of different nations for the over-all power relations of these different nations. If one considers, for instance, the relative power of the United States and the Soviet Union at a particular moment, let us say in 1948, the question arises as to how the different power factors on either side add up and to which side they give a superiority in power and in what respects? Does the monopoly of the atomic bomb, a bigger navy, a smaller but technically superior air force, and a smaller and probably qualitatively inferior army on the side of the United States add up to military superiority over the Soviet Union which has a small and qualitatively inferior navy, a larger and qualitatively inferior air force, and a larger, well-trained and organized, yet poorly equipped army? To what extent does the quantitatively and qualitatively superior industrial capacity of the United States compensate for the probable inferiority in over-all military effectiveness ? What are the respective strengths and weaknesses of the highly concentrated American industries with their great vulnerability to air attack and their great ease of communication and of the dispersed Russian industries, partly secret in loca- tkm and character, yet faced with great difficulties in transportation? What power does the Soviet Union derive from the exposure of Western Europe to ideological and military penetration from the East? What weakness is in- flicted up<^ it by its exposure to air and naval attack from the Pacific? What is the sigiufic^c^ in .terms of the respective power positions, of the operation in the United States of groups subservient to Russian foreign pol- icy, and of the enforced homogen^ty of Russian public opinion? What is the impact upon the national power, of the Unit^ States of a democratic form of government and of a nonu^El^ian eepnomic system in comparison with the totalitarian political and ^ionomk organisation of the Soviet Union? ( no ) Evaluation of National Power These and similar questions must be asked and answered with regard to all countries which play an active role on the international scene. The relative influence of the different factors upon national power must be de- termined with regard to all countries which compete with each other in the field of international politics. Thus one ought to know whether France is stronger than Italy and in what respects. One ought to know what the assets and liabilities in terms of the different power factors of India or China are with respect to the Soviet Union, of Indonesia with regard to the Nether- lands, of Argentina with regard to Chile, and so on. The task of power computation is still not completed. In order to gain an at least approximately true picture of the distribution of power among several nations, the power relations, as they seem to exist at a particular mo- ment in history, must be projected into the future. To effect this it is not enough to ask oneself: What are the power relations between the United States a nd the Soviet Union in 1048; and What they Mefv To be m iqso ^TiqSoT F or decisions on international matters'SaselTupbh, to7 me power relations between the United States and the Soviet Union have to be taken not only in 1948, 1950, and i960, but every day. And every day changes, however small and imperceptible at first, in the factors making for national power add an ounce of strength to this side and take a grain of might away from the other. On the relatively stable foundation of geography the pyramid of national power rises through different gradations of instability to its peak in the fleet- ing element of national morale. All the factors which we have mentioned, with the exception of geography, are in constant flux, influencing each other and influenced in turn by the unforeseeable intervention of nature and man. Together they form the stream of national power, rising slowly and then flowing on a high level for centuries, as in Great Britain; or rising steeply and filing sharply from its crest, such as was the case with Germany; or, asjjvifh the United States and the Soviet Union, rising steeply and facing the T^certainties of the future. To chart the course of the stream and of the dif- ferent currents which compose it and to anticipate the changes in their direc- tion and speed is the ideal task of the observer of international politics. It is an ideal task and, hence, incapable of achievement. Even if those responsible for the foreign policy of a nation were endowed with superior wisdom and unfailing judgment and could draw upon the most complete and reliable sources of information, there would be unknown factors to spoil their calculations. They could not foresee natural catastrophes, such as fam- ines and epidemics, man-made catastrophes, such as wars and revolutions, inventions and discoveries, the rise and disappearance of intellectual, military, and political leaders, the thoughts and actions of such leaders, not to speak of the imponderables a£ national morale. In short, even the wisest and best in- formed of men would still have to face all the contingencies of history and of nature. Actually, however, the assumed perfection in intellect and in- formation is never available. Not all the men who inform those who make decisions in fm'eign affairs are well informed, and not all the men who make dec^ions are wise. Thus the task of assessing the relative power of nations for the present ior the future resolves itself into a series of hunches of ( III ) Politics among Nations which some will certainly turn out to be wrong while others might be proved by subsequent events to have been correct. The success or failum of ji ^ policy, in so far as it depends upon such power calculations, Is determned. Jby the relative importance of ^e rjght.and^ wrong hunch^^ made by responsible for a particular foreign policy of a particular country as well as by those who conduct the foreign ^airs olotbsr cxiuntrie^ Sometimes the mistakes in the assessment of power relations committed by one country are compensated for by the mistakes committed by another. Thus the success of the foreign policy of a country may be due less to the accuracy of its own calculations than to the greater errors of the other side. 2. TYPICAL ERRORS OF EVALUATION Qf all the errors which nations can commit in evaluating thei r own power and the power of other nations, three types are so frequent and iriust rate so well the intellectual pitfalls and practic^ risks inherent in such evaluations that they deserve so me further msc iug^nr TEclim the irekfi vity of power by erecting the power bflSFpafScuErnatb absolute. The sec ond takes for granted the perma nent of ^certain factor wH the p ast played a decisive role^ t^hus overlooking tEe^namic cKangcIo which most power factors are subject. The third attrib^es to one single tactor a dccisiv elm- "portance to the neglect of all th e others. ^n other words, the firsrerror con- sists in not correlating the power of on e natiomto the pow er-ot pth er nations 7 second (x^nsisis inj ^jj ^ actual power at one time to possible ^ tuturetime. The third consists in not factor tnot hers otTfaragf^e natloSZI ^ a) The Absolute Character of Power When we refer to the power of a nation by saying that this nation is very powerful and that nation is weak, we always imply a comparison. In other words ^^he concept of power is always a relative one. When we say that the Ilnifed Aafes Js at pr^nt the most powerful nation on earth, w hat we are actually saying is that if we compare the power of the United States with the power of in other nations, as they exist at present, we find that the United States k more powerful than any of the others. It is. emt ol the most elemental and frequent errors in international poikks to neglect this relative charaaer of power and to deal instead with the power c£ a natidB as &ough it were an absolute* The evaluation of the power of France in the perioid the two world wars is ^ in point At the condign of World W^ar, France was the mm powerful nation on earth &om a <4 view. France so reg^^d^ up to the very momait when in fe actual tmiiary became obvious in a crushing defe^ Tlie from the b^^pr^g of the Second World War in dE ^ 1940 During that peri^ <4 were ( II 2 ) Evaluation of National Power supposed not to dare to attack the French because of the latter’s superior -strength, and on numerous occasions the French were reported to have broken through the German lines. At the root of that misjudgment there was the misconception that the military power of France was not relative to the military power of other nations, but something absolute. French military strength, taken by itself, was at least as great in 1939 as it was in 1919; France was therefore believed to be as strong a nation in 1939 as it had been in 1919. The fatal error of that evaluation lies in the unawareness of the fact that in 1919 France was the strongest military power on earth only in comparison with other nations of which its closest competitor, Germany, was defeated and disarmed. The supremacy of France as a military power was, in other words, not an intrinsic quality of the French nation which might be ascertained in the same way in which one might detect the national characteristics of the French people, their geographic location, and natural resources. That su- 4 u:emacy wag^ n the contrary, the result of a peculiar power constellation, di^ is, oTtK com parative superior other narionsTU he quaFt^ Fren 9 rArmy. as such had indeed not ISeased between 1919 and 1939. Measured in numbers and quality of troops, artillery, airplanes, and staff work^ French military power had not deterio^« ra ted. T hus even so keen an expert on international affairs as Winston C hurc h- dlt, comparing the French Army of the late thirties with the French Army of -1919, coufd^&d^e in 1937 Aat the French Army was the only guaranteciof internation^ peace . He and niost oFhis contemporaries compared the French Army of 1937 with the French Army of 1919, which had gained its reputation only from comparison with the (^rman Army of the same year, instead of comparing the French Army of 1937 with the German Army of the same year. Such a comparison would have shown that the power constellation of 1919 was re- versed in the late thirties. While the French military establishment still was essentially as good as it had been in 1919, Germany’s armed forces were now vastly superior to the French. What exclusive concern with French armed might — as if it were an absolute quaKty — could not reveal, a comparison of the relative military strength of France and Germany might have indicated, and grave errors in political and military judgment might thus have been avoidedL A nation which at a particular moment in history finds itself at the peak of its power is particularly exposed to the temptation to forget that all power is relative. It is likely to believe that the superiority it has achieved is an absolute quaKty to be lost only through stupidity or neglect of duty. A for- eign policy^ however, based on such assumptions, runs grave risks; for it overlodcs the fact that the superior power of that nation is only in part the outgrowth of its own quaKties, while it is in part the result of the quahties of other natiqns compared with its own. Ifhe pre|c«mkiance of Great B 4 t^ from the end of the Napoleonic "^^s m the heg^^ the Second World War was due mainly to its in- ^ quasi-monc^olistic control or the main u ^ ^ words, Gres^ Britain, during that period of ( 113 ) Politics among Nations history, had in comparison with other nations two advantages which no other nation possessed* Great Britain’s insular location has not changed and its navy is still, with the exception of the American, stronger than any other. But other nations have acquired weapons, in the form of airplanes and directed missiles, which obviate to a considerable extent the two ad- vantages from which the power of Great Britain had grown. This change in the power position of Great Britain sheds light upon the tragic dilemma which confronted Neville Chamberlain in the years before the Second World War. Neville Chamberlain understood the relativity of Britain’s power. He knew that not even victory in war could stop its decline. It was Chamber- lain’s ironic fate that his attempts to avoid war at any price made war inevitable, and that he was forced to declare the war he dreaded as the de- stroyer of British power. It is, however, a testimony to the wisdom of Brit- ish statecraft that since the end of the Second World War British foreign policy has by and large been conscious of the decline of British power rela- tive to the power of other nations. British statesmen have been aware of the fact that while the British Navy, taken by itself, may be as strong as it was ten years ago and the channel is as broad and unruly as it always was, other nations have increased their power to such an extent as to deprive those two British assets of much of dieir efEectiveness. h ) The Permanent Character of Powe r Related to the first error, but proceeding from a different intellectual operation, is the one which, while it may well be aware of the relativity of power, singles out a particular power factor or power relation, basing the estimate upon the assumption that this factor or relation is immune to change. We have already had occasion to refer to the miscalculation which up to 1940 saw in France the first military power on earth. Those who held this view erected French power into an absolute and forgot that the emi- nence of that power in the twenties was the result of comparison and that it would have to be tested by comparison in order to ascertain its quality in 1940. Conversely, when the actual weakness of France revealed itself in military defeat, there developed a tendency in France and elsewhere to ex- pect that weakness to endure. France was treated with neglect and disdain as though it were bound to be weak forever. The evaluation of Russian power has followed a similar pattern, only in reva:se historical order. From 1917 to the Battle of Stalingrad in 1943 the Soviet Union was treated as if its weakness at the beginning of the twenties was bound to persist whatever change might occur in other fields. Thus the British military mission which was sent to Moscow in the summer of 1939 to conclude a military alliance with the Soviet Union in anticipation of the approaching war with Germany, conceived its task with a view of Russian power which might have been justified ten or twenty years before. This mis- calculation was an important element in the mission’s failure. On the other hand, immediately after the victory of Stalingrad and under the impact of the Soviet Union’s aggressive foreign policy, the belidE in the permanent ( 114 ) Evcdmtion of National Power invincibility of the Soviet Union and in the permanency of its predominance in Europe was widely held as a dogma. There is a seemingly ineradicable inclination in our attitude toward the Latin-American countries to assume that the unchallengeable superiority of the colossus of the North, which has existed since the nations of the Western Hemisphere won their independence, was almost a law of nature which population trends, industrialization, political and military developments might modify, but could not basically alter. Similarly, since for centuries the political history of the world has been determined by members of the white races while the colored races were in the main the objects of that history, it is diflScult for members of all races alike to visualize a situation where the political supremacy of the white races might no longer exist, where, indeed, the relation between the races might even be reversed. It is especially the demonstration of seemingly irresistible military power which exerts a strange fascination over the minds of those who are given to hasty prophecies rather than to cautious analysis. It makes them believe that his- tory has come to a standstill, as it were, and that today’s holders of un- challengeable power cannot fail to enjoy this power tomorrow and the day after. Thus, when in 1940 and 1941 the power of Germany was at its peak, it was widely believed that the Nazi domination of Europe was established forever. When the hidden strength of the Soviet Union startled the world in 1943, Stalin was saluted as the future master of Europe and Asia. In the postwar years the American monopoly of the atomic bomb has given rise to the conception of the “American Century,” a world dominion based upon American power.^ The root of all those tendencies to believe in the absolute character of power or to take the permanency of a particular power constellation for granted lies in the contrast between the dynamic, ever changing character of the power relations between nations, on the one hand, and the human intellect’s thirst for certainty and security in the form of definite answers, on the other. Confronted with the contingencies, ambiguities, and uncer- tainties of the international situation, we search for a definite comprehen- sion of the power factors upon which our foreign policy is based. We all find ourselves in the position of Queen Victoria, who, after dismissing Palmerston whose unpredictable moves on the international scene had ex- asperated her, asked her new Prime Minister, John Russell, for “a regular programme embracing these different relations with other powers.” The answers we receive are not always as wise as the one John Russell gave Queen Victoria. “It is very difficult,” he replied, “to lay down any principles from which deviations may not frequendy be made.” ^ Yet a misguided pub- lic opinion is only too prone to blame statesmen for such deviations, deeming compliance with principles, without regard for the distribution of power, to be a virtue rather than a vice. ^ The most ^ctacular contemporary victim of the fallacy of the permanent character of power is James Bimiham. See Gwrge Orwdil, “Second Thoughts on James Burnham,** Polemic^ No. 3, W^y 1946, pp, 13 flF.; “James Burnham Rides Again,” Antioch Review, Vol. 7, No. 2, Summer 1947, pp, 315 ff. ^ Robert W. Seton Watson, Britdn in Europe, 178^1^14 (New York: The Macmillan Company, I 937 )» P- 53- ( 115 ) Politics among Nations Wha t the observer of mtcrnational poHtics Jiceds . in order. ta_rsdlJ£e to a-jninifnvT" the Unavoidable e rrors in the calculations of power is a creative I roagirtarifin, irp tniine from the fascination wWch the prepohderainF power .of .the moment so easily imparts, ab le to deta^ itself frdrd the supers® on of .an inevitable trend in histo ry, open to_^e possibilities for ^ange which the dynamics of . history en tail. A creative imagination of this kind would be capable of that supreme intellectual achievement which consists in detecting under the surface of present power relations the germinal developments of the future, in combining the knowledge of what is with the hunch as to what might be, and in condensing all these facts, symptoms, and unknowns into a chart of probable future trends which is not too much at variance with what actually will happen. , 1 T A/? Wallacv of the Single 'Factor The third typical error in assessing the power of different n ation s — attributing to a single facto r an ov erriding importaiice to. the detriment of .all the oAers — can best bc illustrated in three of its manifes tations m ost consequential in modern times: geopolitics, nationalism, and militarism.' Gecwolitics. Ge opolitics is a pseudo-scien ce er ecting the factor of ge og- raphy into an absolute which is supposed to determine the power and, hence, the fate of nations. Its basic concepdon is space. Yet, wMle spac e is static, the peoples living within the spaces of the earth are dynamic. Ac- cording to geopolitics, it is a law of history that peoples must expand by “conquering space,” or perish, and that the relative power of nations is de- termined by the mutual relation of the conquered spaces. This basic concep- tion of geopolitics was first expressed in a paper by Sir Halford Mackinder, “The Geographical Pivot of History,” read before the Royal Geographical Society in London in 1904. “As we consider this rapid review of the broader currents of history, does not a certain persistence of geographical relationship become evident.^ Is not the pivot region of the world’s politics that vast area of Euro-Asia which is inaccessible to ships, but in antiquity lay open to the horse-riding nomads, and is today to be covered with a network of railways?" This is the “Heartland” of Ae world which stretc hes Volga rn the Yangtze a nd from the Himalayas to the Arctic Oce an. “ Cbtside the area, in a great inner crescent, are Germany, Aus tria, T-nrkey, India and China, and in an outer CTescent, Britain. S outh Africa, A ustralia, dM: Umtad Stages. Canada and Tapan.” Th e “WorlcT-Island” is co mpbaod ' - B f A f rica, around. , whirh ihff l essCT land areas woid arg groop^. From this geographical structure Qf.ihe. wQrM geop^fes Aaws the ^commands thb ilearasidt who the Mackinder, on the ba^ tl|5 | or of whatever natioa ’ ice of Russia above as the ^ Sir Halford J. MackiiKkr, , Company, 1919), p. 150* and ( 116 ) Kcyra: Pivot Area is whoUy continental; Outer Crescent, tvholly oceanic; Inner Crescent, partly oceanic, partly continental. [Based on Sir Halford Mackinder’s map. Geographical Journal, XXIII (1904), 435.] Politics among Nations dominating world power. The German geopoliticians, under the leadership o£ General Haushofer, who exerted an important influence upon the power calculations and foreign policies of the Nazi regime, were more specific. They postulated an alliance with the Soviet Union or else the conquest of Eastern, Europ_e~ hy: jGermany in order to make Germany the predommant pow er on earth. It is obvious that this postulate cannot be directljTmferred from the geopolitical premise. Geopolitics only tells us what space is destined, because of its location relative to other spaces, to harbor the master of the world. It does not tell us to what particular nation that mastery will fall. Thus the German school of geopolitics, eager to demonstrate that it was the mission of the German people to conquer the “Heartland,"’ the geographical seat of world dominion, combined the geopoUtical doctrine with the argu- ment of population pressure. The Germans were a “people without space” and the “living space” which they must have in order to live beckons to be conquered in the empty plains of Eastern Europe. Geopolitics, as presented in the writings of Mackinder and Fairgrieve, had given a valid picture of one aspect of the reality of national power, a picture seen, as it were, from the exclusive and, therefore, distorting angle of geography. In the hands of Haushofer and his disciples, geopolitics was transformed into a kind of political metaphysics to be used as an ideological weapon in the service of the international aspirations of Germany.^ National ism. Geopolitics is the .attempt to understand the prob lem of national power exclusively in, term s of g eo graphy and d egyer^es i n the p rocess into a p olitical metaphy sics couched i n a pseudo-scie ntific jargon. ^Nationalism tries to explain national pQWcr_,exclusivelv or at least predgmi- mantly.in terms of natinnal..charactcr and de generates in the pr ocess into the ...tK)hticaI ,mcUphysica.,C^ As geographical location is for geopolitics the one determinant of national power, so membership in a nation is for nationalism. This membership may be defined in terms of language, culture, common origin, race, or in die decision of the individual to belong to the nation. But no matter how it is defined, it always entails as its essence par- takiag in certain qualities, called the national character, which the members of a particular nation have in common and by which they differ from the members of other nations. The preservation of the national character and, more particularly, the development of its creative faculties is the supreme task of the nation. T i a. jagdi^g .. tn^hil£lLkj-thf*.natinn_need^^ w h ich wil l pfiatert k f vther nations and stimulate its own development. In other t he nation needs a state. “One nation — one state^" is thus the polit ical: natio nalism: the national State is its ideal. But though the nation needs the power of the state lor the sake of its preservation and development, the state needs the national community in order to maintain ^d increase its power. Particularly in the nationalistic philosophy of Germany, as, for instance, in the writings of Fichte and Hegel, ^ The ideoIc^M connotaiioiis of isoIati wfeidi, in 'm oono^tradon on one p^cular deancE^ % speial life, ends finally fey eXaMng it undl it feocoEnds ol all thp rest. The pprposc for wfekh pulitaiy forces exist is They are tfepught to stapd their own rigfet and to need no justification. Instead ai feSi% n^a^kd as sir tns^^rA^ which is n^es^t^y in khi^ect world, they ^ elevated into an tS^ect of ^pes^S^sns yenetad^ aa ifeouf k tfee W6^ % a poor insipid place without tfeejn, so. tte p^P<^^ ,^^tutions and social arrai^^dpV suid intellect and morality and rcHgiim are ^shed thold tnadc to fit one in ^a" sane society is a subordinate acivity, the p€#:e» ot the ( 120 ) Evaluation of National Power From the miUtaristic error follows inevitably the equation of national power with material force. To speak loudly and carry a big stick, to re- phrase Theodore Roosevelt^s famous dictum, is indeed the preferred method of militaristic diplomacy. The proponents of this method are unaware that it is sometimes wise to speak softly and carry a big stick; that it is sometimes even wise to leave the big stick at home where it is available when needed. In its exclusive concern with military strength, militarism is contemptuous of the intangibles of power. Without them a powerful nation may frighten other nations into submission or it may conquer by sheer overwhelming force, but it cannot rule what it has conquered; for it cannot gain voluntary acceptance for its rule. In the end, the power of militarism must yield to a power tempered with self-restraint which seeks the effectiveness of national power in the infrequency of its military use. The failures of Spartan, Ger- man, and Japanese militarism as over against the triumphs of the Roman and British policies of empire-building show the disastrous practical results of that intellectual error which we call militarism. Thus the error of militarism gives new sharpness to the structure and contours of national power. Militarism — and here is the essence of its error — is unable to understand the paradox that a maximum of material power does not necessarily mean a maximum of over-all national power. A nation which throws the maximum of material power which it is capable of mustering into the scales of international politics will find itself con- fronted with the maximum effort of all its competitors to equal or surpass its power. It will find that it has no friends, but only vassals and enemies. Since the emergence of the modern state system in the fifteenth century, no single nation has succeeded in imposing its will for any length of time upon the rest of the world by sheer materid force alone. No nation that has tried the ways of militarism has been strong enough to withstand the other nations* combined resistance which the fear of its superior material power had called into being. The only nation which in modern times could maintain a continuous position of preponderance owed that position to a rare combination of po- tential superior power, a reputation for superior power, and the infrequent use of that superior power. Thus Great Britain was able, on the one hand, to overcome all serious challenges to its superiority because its self-restraint gained powerful allies and, hence, made it actually superior. On the other hand, it could minimize the incentive to challenge it because its superiority did not threaten the existence of other nations. When Great Britain stood at the threshold of its greatest power, it heeded the warning of its greatest political thinker — a warning as timely today as when first uttered in 1793* Among precautions against ambitiem, it may not be amiss to take one pre- caution against our own. I must fairly say, I dread our own power and our own ambition; I dread our being too much dreaded. It is ridiculous to say we are not men, and dbat, as men, we diall never wish to aggrandize ourselves in some way of sew^ess, bot wbldi in a mititsuist state is a kind of mystical e{ntome society itself. ... is fedch worship. It is ^ prostration of men’s souls before, and the iao^aiion of bodies to appease an id^” (R^irinted by permission of the publi^er.) ( ) Politics among Nations or other. Can we say that even at this very hour we are not invidiously ag- grandized? We arc already in possession of almost all the commerce of the world. Our empire in India is an awful thing. If we should come to be in a condition not only to have all this ascendant in commerce, but to be absolutely able, without the least control, to hold the commerce of all other nations totally dependent upon our good pleasure, we may say that we shall not abuse this astonishing and hitherto unheard-of power. But every other nation will think we shall abuse it. It is impossible but that, sooner or later, this state of things must produce a combination against us which may end in our ruin.'^ ^ Edmund Burke, ‘‘Remarks on the Policy of the Allies with Respect to France,” Work} (Boston: Litdc, Brown, and Company, 1899), IV, 457, ( 122 ) PART FOUR LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER: THE BALANCE OF POWER CHAPTER IX The Balance of Power The aspiration for power on tiie part of several nations, jtp^ m^ntain or to overthrow Ae status ^uo, leads of necessity t o a constdla- Jion wKici js calledjthg balance of power a nd to policies w hi ch aim at p re- ser vin g it. We are using the term “of necessity” advisedly. For here again we are confronted with the basic misconception which has impeded the understanding of international politics and has made us the prey of illusions. This misconception asserts that men have a choice between power politics and its necessary outgrowth, the balance of power, on the one hand, and a different, better kind of international relations, on the other. It insists that a foreign policy based on the balance of power is one among several possible foreign policies and that only stupid and evil men will choose the former and reject the latter. It will be shown in the following pages that the balance of power in in- ternational affairs is only a particular manifestation of a general social prin- ciple to which all societies composed of a number of autonomous units owe the autonomy of their component parts; that the balance of power and policies aiming at its preservation are not only inevitable, but an essential stabilizing factor in a society of sovereign nations; and that the instability of the international balance of power is due not to the faultiness of the prin- ciple, but to the particular conditions under which the principle must oper- ate in a society of sovereign states. I. SOCIAL EQUILIBRIUM The concept of “equilibrium” as a synonym for ^Tjalance” is commonly em^Qveej in many sdences — pEysics, biology* economics, socioi ogy, an d pol itical science. It signifies st abilit y within a system composed of a number nf ,antr;tyytr]pous Jorces. Whenever the equilibrium is disturbed either by an 1 The of power” is used in the text in four diflFerent meanings: (i) as a policy # a ccr^in state of ai^urs, (2) as an actual state affairs, (3) as an approximately ^ (4) ^ any distribution of power. Whenever &e term is used with- mt ,to*-^ actual state eff affairs in whkh power is distrilHited among napdfs e^tiahty. Foe the term rcfexring to any distribution of power, hefow^ 158^ ^5^ ( 125 ) Politics among Nations outside force or by a change in one or the other elements composing the system, the system shows a tendency to re-establish either the original or a new equilibrium. Thus equilibrium exists in the human body. While the human body changes in the process of growth, the equilibrium persists as long as the changes occurring in the different organs of the body do not disturb the latter’s stability. This is especially so if the quantitative and quali- tative changes in the different organs are proportionate to each other. When, however, the body suffers a wound or loss of one of its organs through out- side interference or experiences a malignant growth or a pathological trans- formation of one of its organs, the equilibrium is disturbed, and the body tries to overcome the disturbance by re-establishing the equilibrium either on the same or a different level from the one which obtained before the disturbance occurred.^ The same concept of equilibrium is used in a special social science, such as economics, with reference to the relations between the different elements of the econo mic system. e.g.. between savings and investments , exports and import s, supply and dem and, costs and prices. It also applies to society as a whole. Thus we search for a proper balance between different geographical regions, such as the East and the West, the North and the South; between different kinds of activities, such as agriculture and industry, heavy and light industries, big and small businesses, producers and consumers, manage- ment and labor; between different functional groups, such as city and coun- try, the old, the middle-aged, and the young, the economic and the political sphere, the middle classes and the upper and lower classes. Two assumptions are at the foundation of all such equilibriums: first, that the elements to be balanced are necessary for society or have a right to ■ exist, and-seoind. .,.diat..withnut a jstat(Lj:iLequi^^^ among them one ele- ment will gain ascendancy over th e others, encro ach upon thei r inter ests and rig hts, and might ultimately destroy thern. Consequently, it is the purpose of all such equilibriums to maintain the stability of the system without destroy- ing the multiplicity of the elements composing it. If the goal were stability alone, it could be achieved by allowing one element to destroy or over- whelm the others and take their place. Since t he goal is stability p lus the ® C£., for instance, the impressive analogy between the equilibrium in the human body and in society in Walter B. Cannon, The Wisdom of the Body (New Yorki W. W. Norton and Com- pany, 1932), pp. 293, 294: “At the outset it is noteworthy that the body politic itself exhibits some ii^ications of crude automatic stabilizing processes. In the previous chapter I expressed the postulate that a certain degree of constancy in a complex system is itself evidence that agencies are acting or are ready to act to maintain that constancy. And moreover, that when a system remains steady it does so because any tendency towards change is met by increased effectiveness of the fector or foctors which resist the change. Many familiar facts prove that these statements arc to some degree true for society even in its present unstabilized condition. A display of con- servatism cxdtes a radical revolt and that in turn is followed by a return to conservatism. Loose government and its consequences bring the reformers into power, but their tight reins soon provoke restiveness and the detire for rdease. The noble enthusiasms and sacrifices of war arc succeeded by moral apathy and orgies of self-indulgence. Hardly any strong tendency in a nation continues to the stage of disaster; before that extreme is reached corrective forces arise which check the tendenq?' and they commonly prevail to such an excessive degree as themselves to cause a reaction. A study of the nature oi ^se social swings and their reversal might lead to valuable understanding and possibly to means more narrowly limiting the disturbances. At this point, however, we merely note that the disturbances are roughly limits, and that this limitation suggests, perhaps, the early stages of social homec®tasis.” (Reprinted by p^mhsion of the publisher. Copyright 1932, 1939, by Walter B. Cannon.) ( 126 ) The Balance of Power of all the elements of the system, the equilibrium must aim at -4?rev^ting. any element from gaining ascendancy over the others. The means employed to maintain the equilibrium consist in allowing the differ- ent elements to pursue their opposing tendencies up to the point where the tendency of one is not so strong as to overcome the tendency of the others, but strong enough to prevent the others from overcoming its own. Nowhere have the mechanics of social equilibrium been described more brilliandy and at the same time more simply than in Federalist. Con- cerning the system of checks and balances of the American government, No. 51 of The Federalist says: This policy of supplying, by opposite and rival interests, the defect of better motives, might be traced to the whole system of human affairs, private as well as public. We see it particularly displayed in all the subordinate distributions of power, where the constant aim is to divide and arrange the several ofiSces in such a manner as that each may be a check on the other — that the private inter- ests of every individual may be a sentinel over the public rights. These inven- tions of pmdence cannot be less requisite in the distribution of the supreme powers of the state. The concept of equilibrium or balance has indeed found its most im- portant application, outside the international field, in the sphere of domestic government and politics.^ Parliamentary bodies have frequently developed within themselves a balance of power. A multi-party system len^ itself par- ticularly to such a development. Here two groups, each representing a minor- ity of the legislative body, often oppose each other, and the formation of a majority depends upon the votes of a third group. The third group will tend to join the potentially or actually weaker of the two, thus imposing a check upon the stronger one. Even the two-party system of the United States ® It iiardly needs to be pointed out that, while the balance of power is a universal social phenomenon, its functions and results are different in domestic and international politics. The balance of power operates in domestic politics within a relatively stable framcwcark of an integrated society, kept tc^ether by a strong consensus and the normally unchallengeable power of a central government. On the international scene, where consensus is weak and a central authority does not exist, the stability of society and the freedom of its component parts depend to a much greater extent upon the operations of the balance of power. More concerning this will be said below. Cf. Chapter XII. Cf. also J. Allen Smith, The Growth and Decadence of ConstituHoned Government (New York; Henry Holt and Company, 1930), pp. 241, 242; ‘In the absence of any common and impartial agency to interpret international law and supervise international relations, every state is anxious not only to increase its own authority but to prevent, if possible, any increase in the authority of rival states. The instinct of self-preservation, in a world made up of independent nations, operates to make each desire power in order to secure itself against the danger of external aggression. The faa that no country alone is sufficiently strong to feel secure against any possible combination of opposing states makes necessary the formation of alliances and counter-alliances through which eadb state seeks to ensure the needed support in case its safety is menaced from without. This is usually refarred to as the struggle to maintain the balance of power. It is merdy an application of the check and balance theory of the state to international politics. It .is assumed, and rightly so, that if any state should acquire a predoininant position in mtemational affairs, it would be a distinct menace to die interests and wdil-being of the rest of the world. Power, even diough it may have been acquired as a means of protection, becomes a menace to internationffid peace as soon as the country possessing it comes to fed stronger than any possible foe. It is no less necessary to maintain the balance of power in international politics, than it is to prevent some special interest from gaining the ascendancy in the state. But since this balance of power idea k based the fear of attack and a^umes ^at every nadon should be prepared for war, it can not be rt^^ded as in any real sense a guaranty of intemadoxial peace.’’ (R^rinted by permission of the publisher.) ( 127 ) Politics among Nations Congress displayed the typical constellation o£ this checking and balancing process when, especially in the last years of the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt, the Southern Democrats constituted themselves a third party, voting on many issues with the Republican minority. They thus checked not only the Democratic majority in Congress, but also the executive branch which, too, was controlled by the Democratic party The American government is the outstanding modern example of a gov- ernmental system whose stability is maintained by an equilibrium among its component parts. Lord Bryce has said: The Constitution was avowedly created as an instrument of checks and bal- ances. Each branch of the government was to restrain the others, and maintain the equipoise of the whole. The legislature was to balance the executive, and the judiciary both. The two houses of the legislature were to balance one an- other, TTie national government, taking all its branches together, was balanced against the State governments. As the equilibrium was placed imder the pro- tection of a document, unchangeable save by the people themselves, no one of the branches of the national government has been able to absorb or override the others , . . each branch maintains its independence and can, within certain limits, defy the others. But there is among political bodies and offices (i.e, the persons who from time to time fill the same office) of necessity a constant strife, a struggle for ex- istence similar to that which Mr. Darwin has shown to exist among plants and animals; and as in the case of plants and animals so also in the political sphere this struggle stimulates each body or office to exert its utmost force for its own preservation, and to develop its aptitudes in any direction where development is possiUe. Each branch of the American government has striven to extend its range and its powers; each has advanced in certain directions, but in others has been restrained by the equal or stronger pressure of other branches.® No. 51 of TheJEjsdetdisth ^s laid bare the power structure of this “dy- nanuc cqiiili'Bnum*' or “moving parallelogram of force,” as it was called by Charles A. Beard ® . the defect must be supplied, by so contriving the interior structure of the government as that its several constitutional parts may, by their mutual relations, be the means of keeping each other in their proper places, . . . But the great security against , a gradual concentration of the several potvers in the same department, consists in giving to those who admmister each dq>artment the necessary constitutional n^ans and personal ^ problem m Jkiba MU, Considerations on Be^^esstnmht Holt and Company, 1S82), p» 142: ‘In a of if the rep^esmt^vc syston cemid be ideally perfect, and if it wocz pG^^ble to if rou^ be sodk dm iesc two classes, should Jb. balanced, each in- abem dm the majority of % dicir ds^ interests, Wpild. be subortoaite to reason, d*e wMe of the wteh wa?e not mb as !e:# power Wibin Jederb sstai^ each class, m miy bere 'Would be a b justice^ and the good other, would turn the scab ought to prev^.^ See also PP» 321-2. 5 ' ® Tke American Commehme ^^^ , ® The Republic YoA: Ihe'Ti ( 128 ) The Balance of Power motives to resist the encroachment o£ others. . • . The provision for defense must in this, as in all other cases, be made commensurate to the danger of attack. Ambition must be made to counteract ambition. The interest of the man must be connected with the constitutional rights of the place. . . The aim of these constitutional arrangements is “to guard one part of the society against the injustices of the other part. Different interests necessarily exist in different classes of citizens. If a majority be reunited by a common interest, the rights of the minority will be insecure.*^ The author, Hamilton or Madison, expected to safeguard the rights of the minority “by comprehending in die society so many separate descrip- tions of citizens as will render an unjust combination of a majority of the whole very improbable, if not impracticable. . . . The society itself will be broken into so many parts, interests, and classes of citizens, that the rights of individuals, or of die minority, will be in litde danger from interested combinations of the majority.” &curity will lie “in the multiplicity of in- degree of security “will depenTonjEZSum^ And Charles A. Beard thus summarizes the philosophy of the American government: “The framers understood that government in action is power. They tried to pit the ambitions, interests, and forces of human beings in the three departments against one another in such a way as to prevent any one set of agents from seizing all power, from becoming dangerously power- ful.”^ One needs only to substitute the ternoinology of international politics for the concepts used by The Federalist, Lord Bryce, and Professor Beard in their analysis of the structure and dynamics of the American government, and there emerge the main elements common to both the system of checks and balances of the American Constitution and the international balance of power. In other words, the same motive forces have given rise to the Ameri- can system of checks and balances and to the international system of the balance of power. Both systems seek to fulfill the same functions for their own stability and the autonomy of their constituent elements, however much they may differ in the means which they employ and in the degree to which they realize their aim. Bc^ are subject to the same dynamic processes of change, disequilibrium, and the establishment of a new balance on a different level. ^Vbid L ^g the main patterns of the international balance of power ? .What arc^e^^cal, situations out of which it arises and within which it operates? WSat functions does it fulfill.^ And to what translor mations has it oe&i te f^gent i n^ ory? 2. TWO MAIN PATTERNS OF THE BALANCE OF POWER ' 'Two the twisis of intefnational society r Vone is the ^ in ^ fa % ffnta|ron?atn of its elements, jm. ( 129 ) Politics' among Nations aspirations for power of the individual nations can come into conflict with each other — and some, if not most of them, do at any particular moment in history — in two different ways. In other words, the struggle for power on the international scene can be fought in two typical patterns. Nation A may embark upon an imperialistic policy with regard to na- tion B, and nation B may counter that policy with a policy of the status quo or with an imperialistic policy of its own. France and its allies opposing Russia in 1812, Japan opposing China from 1931 to 1941, the United Nations vs. the Axis from 1941 on correspond to that pattern. The pattern is one of direct opposition between the nation which wants to establish its power over another nation, and the latter which refuses to yield. Nation A may also pursue an imperialistic policy toward nation C, which may either resist or acquiesce in that policy, while nation B follows with regard to nation C either a policy of imperialism or one of the status quo. In this case, the domination of C is a goal of A’s policy. B, on the other hand, is opposed to A’s policy because it either wants to preserve the status quo with respect to C or wants the domination of C for itself. The pattern of the struggle for power between A and B is here not one of direct oppose tion, but of competition, the object of which is the domination of C, and it is only through the intermediary of that competition that the contest for power between A and B takes place. This pattern is visible, for instance, in the competition between Great Britain and Russia for the domination of Iran in which the struggle for power between the two countries has re- peatedly manifested itself during the last hundred years. It is also clear in the competition for the domination of Germany which during the aftermath of the Second World War has marked the relations between France, Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States. The competition between the United States and the Soviet Uxtion for the domination of Turkey offers another example of the same pattern. It is in situations such as these that the balance of power operates and ful- fills its typical functions. In the pattern of direct opposition, the balance of power is foe direct result of the desire of either nation to see its policies pre- vail over the policies of foe other. A tries to increase its power in relation to B to such an extent that it can control foe decisions of B and thus lead its im- perialistic policy to success. B, on the other hand, will try to increase its power to such an extent that it can resist A’s pressure and thus frustrate A’s policy, or else anbark upon an imperiali^c policy of its own with a chance for suc- cess. In the latter case. A, in turn, mu^ increase its power in order to be able both to resist B’s imperialistic poHcy and to pursue its own with a chance for success. This balancing of opposing forces will go on, the increase in foe power of one nation calling forth an at least proportionate increase in the power of the other nation, until foe nations concerned change the objectives of their imperialistic policies, if they do not |^ve them up altogether, or until one nation gains or believes it has gained a decisive advantage over foe other nation. In that event, dfoer foe yields to foe strong^:, or^ foe contest of war decides foe issue. ^ , ^ So long as foe balance of powd b^r^H sucxes^ully in such a situation. ( 130 ) The Balance of Power it fulfills two functions, creates a precarious stability in the relations be- •^ween the respective nations, a stability which is always in danger of Being” disturbed and, therefore, is always in need of being re-established. This is, however, the only stability obtainable under the assumed conditions of the power pattern. For we are here in the presence of an inevitable inner con- tradiction of the balance of power. Qne of the two. functions the^baknce of power is supposed to fulfill is stability in the power. rdations among n ations; yejLtbese relations are, as we have seen, by their ^yery^naturesuBjegt tP con- tioTapus change. They are essentially unstable. Since the weights which determine the relative position of the scales have a tendency to change continuously by growing either heavier or lighter, whatever stability the balance of power may achieve must be precarious and subject to perpetual adjustments in conformity with intervening changes. The other func- tion which a successful balance of power fulfills ,under these conditions is tolfisyre the freedom of one nation from doSSnatipn by the other* Owing to the essentially unstable and dynamic character of the balance, which is not xmstable and dynamic by accident or only part of the time, but by nature and always, the independence of the nations concerned is also essentially precarious and in danger. Here again, however, it must be said that, given the conditions of the power pattern, the independence of the re- spective nations can rest on no other foundation than the power of each in- dividual nation to prevent the power of the other nations from encroaching upon its freedom. The following diagram illustrates this situation: In the other pattern, the pattern of competition, the mechanics of the balance of p)ower are identical with those discussed. The power of A neces- sary to dominate C in the face of B’s opposition is balanced, if not out- weighed, by B's power, while, in turn, B’s power to gain dominion over C is balanced,, if not oinrweighed, by the power of A. The additional function, however, which the balance here fulfills, aside from creating a precarious stability and security in the relations between A and B, consists in safeguard- ing the independence of C against encroachments by A or B. The independ- ence of C is a mere function of the power relations existing between A and B. ( 131 ) Politics among Nations l£ these relations take a decisive turn in favor of the imperialistic nation, that is, A, the independence of C will at once be in jeopardy. If the status quo nation, that is, B, should gain a decisive and permanent advantage, C’s freedom will be more secure in the measure of that advan- tage. If, finally, the altogether or shift them the freedom of C would be { 1^2 ) iyt w ^ iM^riaiistic policies a. A The Balance of Power Nowhere has this function of the balance of power to preserve the in- dependence of weak nations been more clearly recognized than by Edmund ^ Burke, the greatest depository of political wisdom in the English language. He said in 1791 in his Thoughts on French Affaires: As long as those two princes (the King of Prussia and the German Em- peror), are at variance, so long the liberties of Germany are safe. But if ever they should so far tmdcrstand one another as to be persuaded that they have a more direct and more certainly defined interest in a proportioned mutual ag- grandizement than ijj a reciprocal reduction, that is, if they come to think that they are more likely to be enriched by a division of spoil than to be rendered secure by keeping to the old policy of preventing others from being spoiled by either of them, from that moment the liberties of Germany are no more.® Smal l nations eit-hrr to the balance oliarnKfil lf Belgium and the .Balka j ] W orkL War^. ^or to the preponderance of o pf protertlnpr ppwe r (the small nations of Cen - . America Portugal) , or to their I^ck of attractiveness for «aspiray <; )pfi ,(Rwi>7.erland and Spam). a bility of SUch .sm all nations to maintain the jr neutrality whjle war rages arQU DxLthexauf^ alwavTB^n due to o ne or t;he ntber.i>r„^|) factors. The Netherlands, Denmark, and Norway in the First, in contrast to the Second World War, and Switzerland and Sweden in both world wars are cases in point. The same factors are responsible for the existence of so-called buffer states — weak states located close to powerful ones and serving their military secu- rity. The outstanding example of a buffer state owing its existence to the baknee of power is Belgium from the be^nning of its history as an inde- pendent s^te in i8|t to the Second World War. The nations belonging to the so-called Russian security belt which stretches along the western and sputltwestern frwders of the Soviet Union from Finland to Bulgaria exist by bf dieif |>hc^e^^rant Aef^bbr whose military interests they serve. Coii^»ny, iMg), IV; 331. CHAPTER X Different ISAethods of the balance of Power The balancing process can be carried on cither by diminishing the weight , of the iieaviei: s^e or by increasin g the weight of the lighter o ne. I. DIVIDE AND RULE The former method has found its clasrical manifestation, aside from the imposition of onerous conditions in peace treaties and the incitement to treason and revolution, in the maxim ^*d ivide and rule^*^ It has been resorted to by nations who tried to make or keep their competitors weak by dividing them or keeping them divided. The most consistent and important policies of this kind in modern times are the policy of France with respect tQ JGer- many and the policy of the Spviet Union with respect to the rest^ of E urope. From the seventeenth century to the present day, it has been an unvarying principle of French foreign policy either to favor the division of the Ger- man Empire into a number of small independent states or to prevent the coalescence of such states into one unified nation. The support of the Protes- tant princes of Germany by Richelieu, of the Rhinebund by Napoleon I, of the princes of Southern Germany by Napoleon III, of the abortive sepa- ratist movements after the First World War, and the opposition to the uni- fication of Germany after the Second World War — all have their common denominator in considerations of the balance of power in Europe which France found threatened by a strong German state. Similarly, the Soviet Union from the twenties to the present has consistently opposed all plans for the unification of Europe, on the assumption that the pooling of the divided strength of the European nations into a “Western bloc” would give the enemies of the Soviet Union such power as to threaten the latter’s security. The other method of balanciiig ^e poWer of several nations consists in adding to the strength of the w^^ This method can be carried out by two difierent mean s: Either B fes power sufficiently to ol Esfit, ( 1^4 ) Di^ercnt Methods of the Balance of Power i£ not surpass, the power of A, and vice versa. Or B can pool its power with the power of all the other nations which pursue identical policies with re- gard to A, in which case A will pool its power with all the nations pursuing identical policies with respect to B. The former alternative is exemplified by the policy of compensations and the armament race as well as by disarma- ment; the latter, by the policy of alliances. 2. COMPENSATIONS Compensations of a territorial nature were in the eighteenth and nine- teenth centuries a common device for maintaining a balance of power which had been, or was to be, disturbed by the territorial acquisitions of one nation. The Treaty of Utr ^^-h^ tcftninatcd tbc Qponicl^ cessio n recognized for . t;hr first rimft fyprff ^slv the principle of th e balance o f power by way of territoriaL compensation s. It provided for the division of most of The Spanish possessions, European and colonial, between the Haps- burgs and the Bourbons conservandum in Europa equilibrium,'' as the treaty put it. The three partitions of Poland in 1772, 1793, and 1795, which in a sense mark the end of the classic period of the balance of power for reasons we will discuss later, ^ reaffirm its essence by proceeding under the guidance of the principle of compensations. Since territorial acquisitions at the expense of Poland by any one of the interested nations, Austria, Prussia, and Russia, to the exclusion of the others would have upset the balance of power, the three nations agreed to divide Polish territory in such a way that the distribution of power among themselves would be approximately the same after the par- titions as it had been before. In the treaty of 1772 between Austria and Russia, "'it was even stipulated that “the acquisitions . . , shall be completely equal, the portion of one cannot exceed the portion of the other.’’ Fertility of the soil and number and quality of the populations concerned were used as objective standards by which to determine the increase in power which the individual nations received through the acquisition of territory. While in the eighteenth century this standard was rather crudely applied, the Congress of Vienna refined the policy of compensations by appointing in 1815 a statistical commission which was charged with evaluating the territories to be disposed of by the standard of number, quality, and type of population. In the latter part of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, the principle of compensations was again consciously applied to the distribution of colonial territories and the delimitation of colonial or semi- colonial spheres of influence. Africa, in particular, was during that period the object of numerous treaties delimiting spheres of influence for the major colonial powers. Thus the competition between France, Great Britain, and Italy for the domination.of Ethiopia was provisionally resolved, after the model of the partitions of Poland, by the treaty of igo6 which divided the country into three ^heres of influen<^ for the purpose of establishing in that i See below, p. 150. ( 135 ) Politics among Nations region a balance of power among the nations concerned. Similarly, the rivalry between Great Britain and Russia with respect to Iran led to the Anglo- Russian treaty of 1907 which established spheres of influence for the contract- ing parties and a neutral sphere under the exclusive domination of Iran. The compensation consists here not in the outright cession of territorial sov- ereignty, but rather in the reservation, to the exclusive benefit of a particular nation, of certain territories for commercial exploitation, political and mili- tary penetration, and eventual establishment of sovereignty. In other words, the particular nation has the right, without having full title to the territory concerned, to operate within its sphere of influence without competition or opposition from any other nation. The other nation, in turn, has the right to claim for its own sphere of influence the same abstinence on the part of the former. Even where the principle of compensations is not consciously applied, however, as it was in the iorementioned treaties, it is nowhere absent from political arrangements, territorial or other, made within a balance-of-power system. For given such a system, no nation will agree to concede political ad- vantages to another nation without the expectation, which may or may not be well founded, of receiving proportionate advantages in return. The bar- gaining of diplomatic negotiations, issuing in political compromise, is but the principle of compensations in its most general form and as such it is organically connected with the balance of power. 3. ARMAMENTS The principal means, however, by which a nation endeavors with the power at its disposal to maintain or re-establish the balance of power are armaments. The armament race in which nation A tries to keep up with, and then to outdo, the armaments of nation B, and vice versa, is the typical instrumentality of an unstable, dynamic balance of power. The necessary corollary of the armaments race is a constantly increasing burden of military preparations devouring an ever greater portion of the national budget and making for ever deepening fears, suspicions, and insecurity. The situation preceding the First World War with the naval competition between Germany and Great Britain and the rivalry of the French and German armies illustrates this point. It is m rm>gnition of situations such as these that since the end of the Na|xi^^ik Wars repeated attempts have been made to create a stable bakmce of power, m$: to establish permanent peace, by means of propor- tionate pwer^ liaiglity incen- tive to transform itself into an actuality. Since the desire to attain a maximum of power is universal, all nations must always be afraid that their own miscalculations and the power in- creases of other nations might add up to an inferiority for themselves which they must at all costs try to avoid. Hence, it is the tendency of all nations^ who have gained an apparent edge over their competitors to consolidate that advantage and to use it for changing the distribution of power permanently^ in their favor. This can be done through diplomatic pressure by bringing^ the full weight of that advantage to bear upon the other nations, compeUing them to make the concessions which vnll consolidate the temporary ad- vantage into a permanent superiority. It can also be done by war. Since in a balance-of-power system all nations live in constant fear of being deprived at the first opportune moment, of their power position by their rivals, all nations have a vital interest in anticipating such a development and doing unto the others what they do not want the others to do unto them. Preventive war, however abhorred in diplomatic language and abhorrent to democratic public opinion, is in fact a natural outgrowth of the balance of power. Here again, the events leading to the outbreak of the First World War are instructive; for it was on that occasion that foreign affairs were conducted for the last time according to the classical rules of the balance of ’’ British Documents, loc. cit., p. 284. ® See above, p, 36 n. 16, p. 48. (155) Politics among Nations power. Austria was resolved to change the balance o£ power in the Balkans in its favor once and for all. It believed that, while Russia was not yet ready to strike, its power was on the increase and that, therefore, postponement of decisive action would make the distribution of power less favorable to itself. Similar calculations were made in Berlin with respect to the distribution of power between Germany and Russia. Russia, on the other hand, was re- solved not to permit Austria to change the distribution of power in its favor by crushing Serbia. Russia calculated that such an instant increase in the power of its prospective enemy might more than outweigh any probable future increase in its own power. It was partly in consideration of these Rus- sian calculations that Great Britain refused until the last moment to declare openly its support of the Franco-Russian Alliance. As the British Ambassador to Germany put it on July 30, 1914: “A statement to that effect at the present stage, while it might cause Germany to hesitate, might equally urge Russia on; and if Russia attacked Austria, Germany would have to come in whether she feared the British fleet or not.’’ ® It will forever be impossible to prove or disprove the claim that by its stabilizing influence the balance of power has aided in avoiding many wars. One cannot retrace the course of history, taking a hypothetical situation as one’s point of departure. But, while nobody can tell how many wars there would have been without the balance of power, it is not hard to see that most of the wars which have been fought since the beginning of the modern state system have their origin in the balance of power. Three types of wars are intimately connected with the mechanics of the balance of power: pre - ventive wa r, already referred to, where normally both sides pursue impenat Jstic aims, anfi^prtperialistic w ar, a nd imperialistic war itself. The opposition, under the conditions of the balance oi power, between one status quo nation or an alliance of them and one imperialistic power or a group of them is very likely to lead to war. In most instances, from Charles V to Hitler and Hirohito, they actually did lead to war. The status quo na-. . ,£k>ns* which bv definition are dedicated to peaceful pursuits and want only m wer characteristic of a nation which is bent upon im- ^penalistic expansion . The relative increases in the power of Great Britain and France,, on the one hand, and of Germany, on the other, from 1933 to the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, illustrate vividly the different pace and dynaimics in the power increases of status quo and imperialistic nations. In such an armament race the status quo nations are bound to lose, and their relative portion canned fail to deteriorate at an accelerated pace ,the longer the race lasts. Time is on the sdr common sense; for refinement in government, and an eq^l diffusion of liberty; above all, for that perf^t knowledge of the arts of administration, whih has established certain general niks of condua among nations; has prevented the overthrovJof empires, and the absorption of weak states into the bodies of devouring neighbours; has /set bounds to the march of conquest, and rendered the unsheaffiing of die sword a measure of /die last adoption; whereas, in other times, it was ajways r^carted to in the first instance.’^ . ( 160 ) Evaluation of the Balance of Pouter inevitable ruin o£ all the other members of the same body. Whatever changes or impairs diis general system of Europe is too dangerous and brings in its train infinite evils.^^ Rousseau took up the same theme by stating that “The nations of Eu- rope form among themselves an invisible nation. . . . The actual system of Europe has exactly that degree of solidity which maintains it in a state of perpetual agitation without overturning it.’’ And, according to Vattel, the most influential of the eighteenth-century writers on international law: Europe forms a political system, a body where the whole is connected by the relations and different interests of nations inhabiting this part of the world. It is not as anciently a confused heap of detached pieces, each of which thought itself very litde concerned in the fate of others, and seldom regarded things which did not immediately relate to it. The confined attention of sovereigns . . . makes Europe a kind of republic, the members of which, though independent, unite, through the ties of common interest, for the maintenance of order and liberty. Hence arose that famous scheme of the political equilibrium or balance of power; by which is understood such a disposition of things as no power is able absolutely to predominate, or to prescribe laws to others.^^ The statements of the writers are echoed in the declarations of the states- men. From 1648 to the French Revolution of 1789, the princes and their ad- visers took the moral and political unity of Europe for granted and referred only in passing to the “republic of Europe,” “the community of Christian princes,” or “the political system of Europe.” But the challenge of the Napo- leonic Empire compelled them to make explicit the moral and intellectual foundations upon which the old balance of power had reposed. The Holy Alliance and the Concert of Europe, both of which shall be dealt with later, are attempts at giving institutionalized direction to these moral and intellec- tual forces which had been the lifeblood of the balance of power. The Treaty of the Holy Alliance of September 26, 1815, obligated its signatories — all the sovereigns of Europe except three — to nothing more than to act in relation to each other and to their subjects in accordance with Christian principles. Yet the other treaties, which tried to reconstitute the European political system and which are popularly known by the name of the Holy Alliance, were directed against the recurrence of revolution any- where, especially, of course, in France. Since the French Revolution had been the great dynamic force which had destroyed the balance of power, it was believed that any revolution would carry with it a similar threat. Thus the principle of legitimacy and the inviolability of the frontiers of 1815 became the foundation stones upon which at least Austria, Prussia, and Russia tried to re-erect the political structure of Europe. As late as i860, when France obtain^ the cession of Savoy and Nice as compensation for the increase of territory obtained by Sardinia in Italy, England intervened by invoking one of the principles of 1815. “Her Majesty’s 12 (Euvres (Paris, 1870), HI, 349, 350. (Euvres cofj^p^Sf IX, 4^9. Thfi Law fidiion s (P Madetphia, 1829X Boc^ HI, Chapter m, pp. 377 ”^- ^ XW* ( 161 ) Politics among Nations Government,” Earl Russell, the British Foreign Secretary, wrote to the Brit- ish Ambassador to France, “must be allowed to remark that a demand for cession of a neighbor’s territory, made by a State so powerful as France, and whose former and not very remote policy of territorial aggrandizement brought countless calamities upon Europe, cannot well fail to give umbrage to every State interested in the Balance of Power and in the maintenance of the general peace ” ^he Con cert of Europe^;— diplomacy by conferences among the great powers whichTwouldlneet all threats to the political system by concerted ac- tion — became the instrument by which first the principles of the Holy Al- liance and then, after the latter’s disintegration culminating in the liberal revolutions of 1848, the common interests of Europe were to be realized. The Concert of Europe functioned on many occasions during the century from its inception in 1814 to the outbreak of the First World War in 1914. The conception underlying it, that is, the political unity of Europe, or, in the words of Casdereagh, “the general system of Europe,” was referred to in many official declarations. Thus the allied powers declared toward the end of 1813 that they “shall not lay down their arms . . . before the political status of Europe has been anew reaffirmed and before immutable principles have taken their rights over vain pretentions in order to assure Europe a real peace.” In the declaration of February 5, 1814, froni wii^ thejQpncert of Europe is generally dated, the representatives of 'Austria^Great Britain, P russi ^^aridrdtilsMa: ^ did --f to ^^spegk:'^^ the liame oF their rcspe(^e~c6'unt^ in the name. of. Europe which forms but a sin gle The same nations, which were joined by France, established in Protocol 19 of the Conference of London of 1831 the independence of Belgium and, in the interest of the balance of power, put its neutrality under their joint guaranty. In justification, they declared: “Every nation has its laws, but Eu- rope, too, has her law; the social order has given it to her.” During the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, French Minister Thiers, searching in vain for aid from the other European nations in order to prevent the overthrow of the balance of power by Germany, complained that “Europe was not to be found.” In that phrase he paid his respects to the same principle of Euro- pean unity which since 1648 has been the lifeblood of the balance of power. It was to the same principle that British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey appealed in vain when on the eve of the First World War he invited the nations of Europe to a conference in order to settle their differences. One might even say that British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, when in 1938 he forced Czechoslovakia to cede the Sudetenland to Nazi Germany, acted under the mistaken assumption that the moral, intellectual, and politi- cal unity of Europe did still exist and that Nazi Germany formed an in- tegral part of it. b ) Moral Consensus of the Modern State System The confidence in the stabiUty of the modern state system that emanates from all these declarations and actions derives, it will be noted, not from the ( 162 ) 'Evaluation of the Balance of Power balance o£ power, but from a number of elements, intellectual and moral in nature, upon which both the balance of power and the stability of the mod- ern state system repose. “In politics as in mechanics,” as John Stuart Mifl put it, “the power which is to keep the engine going must be sought for outside the machinery; and if it is not forthcoming, or is insufficient to sur- mount the obstacles which may reasonably be expected, the contrivance will fail,” What, for instance. Gibbon has pointed to with particular eloquence and insight as the fuel which keeps the motor of the balance of power mov- ing are the intellectual and mor^ ] foundation*^ of We.gern civilizations, the intellectual and m oral cli^mate within wh^h the protagonisti^oT cipj-teenfF century so ciety moved and whicF Thele"^meh1Ene^ Europe^ “one great republic” with common standards of Considerations on Representative Government (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1882), p. 21. Cf. also the penetrating remarks on pp. 235-6 on the importance of the moral factor for the maintenance of the balance of power in domestic politics: “When it is saidqiaL the question is only one of political morality, this does not extenuate its importance. Questions of constitutional morality are of no less practical moment than those relating to the constitution itself. The very existence of some governments, and all that renders others endurable, rests on the practical observance of doctrines of constitutional morality; traditional notions in the minds of the several constituted authorities, which modify the use that might otherwise be made of their powers. In unbalanced governments — pure monarchy, pure aristocracy, pure democracy — such maxims are the only barrier which restrains the government from the utmost excesses in the direction of its characteristic tendency- In imperfectly balanced governments, where some attempt is made to set constitutional limits to the impulses of the strongest power, but where that power is strong enough to overstep them with at least temporary impunity, it is only by doctrines of constitutional morality, recognized and sustained by opinion, that any regard at all is preserved for the checks and limitations of the constitution. In well-balanced governments, in which the supreme power is divided, and each sharer is protected against the usurpations of th^ others in the only manner possible, namely, by being armed for defense with weapons as stron as the others can wield for attack, the government can only be carried on by forbearance on a sides to exercise those extreme powers, unless provoked by conduct equally extreme on the pa| of some other sharer of power; and in this case we may say that only by the regard paid maxims of constitutional morality is the constitution kept in existence.” Cf. on this point also the analogy between industrial warfare and the international balance of power in R. H. Tawney, The Acquisitive Society (New York: Hsurcourtf Brace and Company, 1920), pp. 40, 41: “That motive produces industrial warfare, not as a regrettable incident, but as an inevitable result. It produces industrial war, because its teaching is that each individual or group has a right to what they can get, and denies that there is any principle, other than the mechanism of the market, which determines what they ought to get. For, since the income available for distribution is limited, and since, therefore, when certain limits have been passed, what one group gains another group must lose, it is evident that if the relative incomes of different groups are not to be determined by thdr functions, there is no method other than mutual self-assertion which is left to determine them. Self-interest, indeed, may cause them to refrain from using their full strength to enforce their claims, and, in so far as this happens, peace is secured in industry, as men have attempted to secure it in international affairs, by a balance of power. But the maintenance of such a peace is contingent upon the estimate of the parties to it that they have more to lose than to gain by an overt struggle, and is not the result of thefr acceptance of any standard of remuneration as an equitable settlement of their claims. H^cc it is precarious, insincere and short. It is without finality, because there cm be no finality in the mere addition of increments of income, any more than in the gratification of any other desire for material goods. When demands are conceded the old struggle recommences upon a new level, and will always recommence as long as men seek to end it merely by increasing remuneration, not by finding a principle upon which all remuneration, whether large or small, should be based.” See also p. 50: “But the balance, whether in international politics or in industry, is un- stable, because it reposes not on the common recognition of a principle by which the claims of nations and individuals are limited, but on an attempt to find an equipoise which may avoid a conflict without adjuring the assertion of unlimited claims. No such equipoise can be found, be- cause, in a world where the possibilities of increasmg military or industrial power arc illimitable, no »xch equipoise can exist.” (Reprinted by permission of the publisher.) ( 163 ) Politics among Nations ‘‘politeness and cultivation” and a common “system of arts, and laws, and manners.” The common awareness of these common standards restrained their ambitions “by the mutual influence of fear and shame,” imposed “mod- eration” upon their actions, and instilled in all of them “some sense of honour and justice,” In consequence, the struggle for power on the international scene was in the nature of “temperate and undecisive contests.” Of the temperateness and undecisiveness of the political contests, from 1648 to the Napoleonic Wars and then again from 1815 to 1914, the balance of power is not so much the cause as the metaphorical and symbolic expres- sion or, at best, the technique of realization. Before the balance of power could impose its restraints upon the power aspirations of nations through the mechanical interplay of opposing forces, the competing nations had first to restrain themselves by accepting the system of the balance of power as the common framework of their endeavors. However much they desired to alter the distribution of the weight in the two scales, they had to agree in a silent compact, as it were, that, whatever the outcome of the contest, the two scales would still be there at the end of it. They had to agree that, however high one might have risen and however low the other might have simk, the scales would still be joined together as a pair, hanging from the same beam and, hence, able to rise and faU again as the future constellation of weights would determine. Whatever changes in the status quo nations might seek, they all had at least to recognize as unchangeable one factor, the existence of a pair of scales, the “status quo” of the balance of power itself. And whenever a nation might tend to forget that indispensable precondition of independence and stability, as Austria did in 1756 with regard to Prussia, or France from 1919-23 with regard to Germany, the consensus of all the other nations would not allow it to forget that precondition for long. This consensus grew in the intellectual and moral climate of the age and drew its strength from the actual power relations which under normd con- ditions made an attempt at overthrowing the system of the balance of power itself a hopeless undertaking. This consensus, in turn, as an intellectual and moral force, reacted upon the intellectual and moral climate and upon the power relations, strengthening the tendencies toward moderation and equi- librium. As Professor Quincy Wright has put it: The States were so bounded and organized that aggression could not succeed unless it was so moderated and so directed that the prevailing opinion of the Powers ai^roved it. Such approval was generally given to the Balkan revolts which gradually disintegrated the Ottoman Einphre, to the Bdgian revolt which separated that coun^ from the Netherlands, to Prussian and Sardinian aggres- sions which united modem Germany and Italy, and to numerous aggressions in Africa, Asia and the Pacific which increased European empires, and extended European civilizaticm to these axeas.^^ It is this consensus, both child and father, as it were, of common moral standards and a common civilization as well as of common interests, which kept in check the limitless desire for power, potentially inherent, as we know, “The Balance of Powct,” in Wdgat aM Sietossoa, Compass of the World (New Yockt The Macmillan Company, 1944), 53-4. ; ( 164 ) Evaluation of the Balance of Power in all imperialisms, and prevented it from becoming a political actuality. Where such a consensus no longer exists or has become weak and is no longer sure of itself^ as in the period starting with the partitions of Poland and ending with the Napoleonic Wars, the balance of power is incapable of fulfilling its functions for international stability and national independ- ence. Such a consensus prevailed from 1648 to 1772 and from 1815 to 1933. In the former period, the state system resembled nothing so much as a competi- tive society of princes, each of whom accepted the reason of state, that is, the rational pursuit, within certain moral limitations, of the power objectives of the individual state, as the ultimate standard of international behavior. Each expected, and was justified in expecting, everybody else to share this standard. The passions of the religious wars yielded to ihc rationalism and the skeptical moderation of the Enlightenment. In that tolerant atmosphere, national hatreds and collective enmities, nourished by principles of any kind, could hardly flourish. Everybody took it for granted that the egotistical mo- tives which animated his own actions drove all others to similar actions. It was then a matter of skill and luck who would come out on top. Interna- tional politics became indeed an aristocratic pastime, a sport for princes, all recognizing the same rules of the game and playing for the same limited stakes. After the interlude of the Napoleonic Wars, the dual fear of revolution and of a renewal of French imperi a 1 is , mx .a lIcd 4 ntQ bei^ mor a li te ^of thsi Holy .Allia nce witH its Elendof Christian, mon a^chicak-^^^ European^-pria^ c iples. T h e Conce rt^nf Riirnp ^n the latter century, and theXcague oLblatirmn nfror World War, ndi ied to this heritage the f This idea became, as principle of national self- determination, one of the cornerstones upon which successive generations, from the liberal revolutions of 1848 to the outbreak of the Second World War, tried to erect a stable political structure. What the French Foreign Minister De la Valette wrote in 1866 to a French diplomatic representative became one of the basic convictions of this period of history — proclaimed again by Wood- row Wilson and made one of the standards of the Peace Treaties of 1919 — : “The emperor . . . sees a red egmEbriim Q|fly in the satisfied wishes of the nations jotEurope.” ^ The importance of the moral factor for the preservation of the independence of small nations is well p>ointcd out by Alfred Cobban, National Self-Determination (Chicago: Univer- sity of Chicago fhess, 1948) pp. 170, 171: “But even the polid^ of great empires are influenced by Ae climate of opinion, and there has for long been a prejudice in favour of the rights of small independent states. With the sources of this prejudice we need not concern ourselves, but its existence is a fact which the student of international affairs cannot ignore. The various factors we have mentioned all undoubtedly have their importance, but in our opinion it was not the strength of national feeling in the smaller states, or even the effects of the balance of power, so much as the general recognition that the destruction of an independent sovereignty was an exceptional, and normily an unjustifiable, act which ultimately protected many of the small suites of liirope, some no larger than a single dty, from absorption by the greater powers^ Even in the eighteenth century, when the power of ihe larger states was increasing rapidly, com temporary oj^on, influenced by the classical city-state ideal, held up the smaller states for ad- mhation and believed in tbeir independence. During the nineteenth century the growth of the natiomdist i as we have seen, it still exercised condderable influence.** ( 165 ) Politics among Nations What is left of this heritage today? What kind of consensus unites the nations of the world in the period following the Second World War? IJpon the examination of the component elements of this consensus will depend the' estimate of the role which the balance of power can be expected to play today for the freedom and stability of the community of nations. ( i66 ) PART FIVE LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER: INTERNATIONAL MORALITY AND WORLD PUBLIC OPINION CHAPTER Xm EfhicSj MoreSj and haw as Restraints on Power We have seen in the preceding chapter that power is a crude and unreliable method o£ limiting the aspirations for power on the international scene. If the motivations behind the struggle for power and the mechanisms through which it operates were all that needs to be known about international poli- tics, the international scene would indeed resemble the state of nature de- scribed by Hobbes as a '‘war of every man against every man.” ^ International politics would be governed exclusively by those considerations of political expediency of which Machiavelli has given the most acute and candid ac- count. In such a world the weak would be at the mercy of the strong. Might would indeed make right. Actually, however, the very threat of such a world where power reigns not only supreme, but without rival, engenders that revolt against power, which is as universal as the aspiration for power itself. To stave off this revolt, to pacify the resentment and opposition that arise when the drive for power is recognized for what it is, those who seek power employ, as we have seen, ideologies for the concealment of their aims. What is actually aspiration for power, then, appears to be something different, something that is in harmony with the demands of reason, morality, and justice. The substance, of which the ideologies of international politics are but the reflection, is to be foxmd in the normative orders of ethics, mores, and law. . From the Bible to the ethics and constitutional arrangements of modern democracy, the main function of these normative systems has been to keep aspirations for power within socially tolerable bounds. All ethics, mores, and legal systems dominant in Western civilization recognize the ubiquity of power drives and condemn them. Conversely, political philoso- phies, such as Machiavelli’s and Hobbeses, which regard the ubiquity of power drives as an ultimate fact of social life to be accepted rather than condemned and restrained^ have met with the disapproval of prevailing opinion. They ha've lacked the intellectual and practice influence which has made political ^ Lemathm, C3bstpitier ( 169 ) Politics among Nations philosophies, such as St. Augustine’s and Locke’s, potent forces in Western civilization. On the other hand, that very tradition of Western civilization which at- tempts to restrain the power of the strong for the sake of the weak has been opposed as effeminate, sentimental, and decadent. The opponents have been those who, like Nietzsche, Mussolini, and Hitler, not only accept the will to power and the struggle for power as elemental social facts, but glorify their unrestrained manifestations and postulate this absence of restraint as an ideal of society and a rule of conduct for the individual. But in the long run philoso- phies and political systems which have made the lust and the struggle for power their mainstay have proved impotent and self-destructive. Their weak- ness demonstrates the strength of the Western tradition which seeks, if not to eliminate, at least to regulate and restrain the power drives which otherwise would either tear society apart or else deliver the life and happiness of the weak to the arbitrary will of those in power. It is at these two points that ethics, mores, and law intervene in order to protect society against disruption and the individual against enslavement and extinction. When a society or certain of its members are unable to protect themselves with their own strength against the power drives of others, when, in other words, the mechanics of power politics are found wanting, as sooner or later they must, the normative systems try to supplement power politics with their own rules of conduct. This is the message the normative systems give to strong and weak alike: Superior power gives no right, either moral or legal, to do with that power all that it is physically capable of doing. Power is subject to limitations, in the interest of society as a whole and in the interest of its individual members, which are not the result of the mechanics of the struggle for power, but are superimposed upon that struggle in the form of norms or rules of conduct by the will of the members of society themselves. Three types of norms or rules of conduct operate in all higher societies: ethics, mores, and law. Their distinctive characteristics have been much de- bated in the literature of philosophy and jurisprudence. For the purpose of this study it is sufficient to point out that every rule of conduct has two ele- ments: the command and the sanction. No particular command is peculiar to any particular type of norm — ‘‘thou shalt not kill” can be a command of ethics, mores, or law. It is the sanction that differentiates these three different types of rules of conduct. “Thou shalt not kill” is a command of ethics, mores, or law according to wheAer, in case of its violation, a sanction peculiar to ethics or to mores or to law is applied to pximsh the violator and prevent further violations. If A. kills B and afterward feels pangs of conscience or of remorse, we are in the presence of a sanction peculiar to ethics and, hence, of an ethical norm. If A kills B and imorganized society reacts with spontaneous demonstrations of disapproval, such as business boycc^ social ostracism, and the like, we have to do with a sanction peculiar to the mores, and, henc^ to a norm of the mores. If, finally, A kills B and organized society reacts in the form of a rational procedure with predetermined police action, indictment, trial, verdict, and punishment, the sanction is of a legal nature and the norm, therefor^ belongs in the category of law. ( 170 ) Ethics, Mores, and Law as Restraints on Power All domestic societies are regulated by an intricate maze of rules of con- duct of this kind, supporting or contradicting each other or operating inde- pendendy. The more important society considers those interests and values which it tries to safeguard by rules of conduct, the stronger are the sanctions with which it threatens an infraction of its rules. Society exerts its greatest pressure and, therefore, has the best chance of enforcing its rules of conduct against its recalcitrant members when it brings all the different kinds of sanc- tions at its disposal simultaneously to bear upon the infractor of its rules. It is weakest and, therefore, its sanctions are most likely to be inefiective when only one type of sanction supports its interests and values. When one rule of conduct requires an action which another rule of conduct condemns, the fate of the interest or value concerned depends upon the relative strength of the sanctions supporting the contradictory commands. Against a threat to its own existence by treason or by revolution, or a threat to the existence of its individual members by murder, society marshals all three types of sanction. Thus ethics, mores, and law, reinforcing each other, give threefold protection to the life of society and to the lives of the individuals who compose it. The would-be traitor or killer faces the pangs of his con- science, the spontaneous reactions of society in the form, for instance, of ostracism, and the punishment of the law. The same situation prevails where not the existence of society or of its individual members, but their property is to be protected. Property, too, is surrounded by the triple wall of ethics, mores, and law. Between the would-be thief and cheat and the property he covets, society interposes all the sanctions it is able to employ. Where less highly priced interests and values are at stake, society may call upon only one type of sanction. Thus certain kinds of competitive practices in business and politics, such as lying, are opposed only by ethics. The mores will come into play only under extreme conditions, if, for instance, the amoxmt and degree of lying exceed the measure which society regards as tolerable. The law will remain silent in the case of ordinary lying, if for no other reason than that no law prohibiting it can be enforced. It will speak only in cases of qualified lying, such as perjury and cheating, where the lie threatens interests and values beyond mere truth. The rules of fashion, on the other hand, are enforced exclusively by the mores, for the issues involved are not important enough for ethics and law to be concerned about them. It is, finally, the law alone which takes cognizance of violations of traflSc regulations. Ethics and mores do not participate in their enforcement; for to establish some kind of mechanical order in the field of trafiic the sanctions of the law are generally sufficient. The problem of the relative strength of different injunctions becomes acute when there is conflict between different rules of conduct. The classic example, much discussed in the literature of jurisprudence, of a conflict between two rules of the same legal system is the prohibition of dueling in the criminal codes of certain European countries, while the military codes of the same countries require officers to settle certain disputes by way of duels. A system of ethics which commands us to obey God rather than man and at the same time to give xmto Caesar what is Caesar’s presents a similar conflict when a law of the state contradicts one of God’s commandments. Conflicts of this kind ( 171 ) Politics among Nations are particularly frequent in the political sphere. Rival governments — a revo- lutionary government and a legitimate government, a government in exile and a ‘‘Quisling” government — demand obedience from the same group of people* The rules of conduct v^ith which a politician is expected to comply are often at odds with the norms which address themselves to all members of society. The ethics and mores of politics are generally considered to permit greater leeway than the general etHcs and mores of society in certain actions, such as “campaign oratory” and promises in general. Conflicts between different rules of conduct are decided by the relative pressure which the sanctions of the conflicting rules are able to exert upon the will of the individual. Unable to comply with all the norms addressed to him at the same time, he must choose the one to obey and violate the others. The relative strength of these pressures is, in turn, the expression of the relative strength of the social forces which support one set of values and interests against another. Thus the normative order of society whose purpose it is to keep the power aspirations of its individual members within socially tolerable bounds is itself in a certain measure the result of social forces contending with each other for the domination of society. Social life consists to an overwhelming extent in continuous reactions, which have become largely automatic, to the pressures which society exerts upon its members through its rules of conduct. These rules of conduct watch over the individual from morning till night, molding his actions into con- formity with the standards of society. One might even say that society as a dynamic force is nothing but the sum total of its rules of conduct imposing patterns of action upon its members. What we call civilization is in a sense nothing but the automatic reactions of the members of a society to the rules of conduct by which that society endeavors to make its members conform to certain objective standards, to restrain their aspirations for power, and to domesticate and pacify them in all socially important respects. The civilization with which we are here of course mainly concerned — Western civilization — has been to a large extent successful in this endeavor. Western civiliza- tion has not, however, as many nineteenth- and twentieth-century writers believed, altogether banished the struggle for power from the domestic scene and replaced it with something different and better, such as co-operation, harmony, permanent peace, nor is it on its way to do so. This misconception of the role which the aspirations and the struggle for power play in politics has been treated in the first chapter of this book. The best that Webern civilization has been able to achieve — which is, as far as we can ^e, the best that any civilization can achieve — has been to mitig^ the struggle for power m. the domestic scene, to civilize its means, and to direct it toward objectives, which, if atttained, minimize the extent to which life, liberty, and the pursuit of Imppiness of the individual members of society are involved in the struggle for power. More particularly, the crude methods of personal combat have been replaced by the refined instruments of social, commercial, and professional a>mpefition. The struggle for power is being fought, rather than with deadly weapons, with competitive examina- .tions, with competition for social di^nctions, with periodical elections for ( 172 ) Ethics, Mores, and haw as Restraints on Power public and private ofBces, and, above all, with competition for the possession of money and of things measurable in money. In the domestic societies of Western civilization the possession of money has become the outstanding symbol of the possession of power. Through the com- petition for the acquisition of money the power aspirations of the individual find a civilized outlet in harmony with the rules of conduct laid down by society. The different normative injunctions against homicide and against individual and collective violence of any kind aim at creating the normative preconditions for such a civilized redirection of the struggle for power. All the social instrumentalities and institutions relevant to the different competi- tive devices of society serve the purpose, not of eliminating the struggle for power, but of creating civilized substitutes for the brutality and crudeness of an unlimited and unregulated struggle for power. Such is, in brief and sketchy outline, the way in which ethics, mores, ^d law limit the struggle for power in the domestic societies of Western civiliza- tion. What can we say in this respect of international society.'^ What rules of ethics, mores, and law are effective on the international scene ? What functions do they fulfill for international society } What kind of international ethics, in- ternational mores in the form of world public opinion, and international law is there which would delimit, regulate, and civilize the struggle for power among nations in the same way as the domestic normative orders fulfill this function for the struggle for power among individuals belonging to the same domestic society? ( m ) CHAPTER XIV International IS/Lorality A discussion of international morality must guard against the two extremes either of overrating the influence of ethics upon international poHtics or else of denying that statesmen and diplomats are moved by anything else but considerations of material power. On the one hand, there is the dual error of confounding the moral rules which people actually observe with those they pretend to observe as well as with those which writers declare they ought to observe. “On no subject of human interest, except theology,” said Professor John Chipman Gray, “has there been so much loose writing and nebulous speculation as on international law.” ^ The same must be said of international morality. Writers have put for- ward moral precepts which statesmen and diplomats ought to take to heart in order to make relations between nations more peaceful and less anarchic, such as the keeping of promises, trust in the other’s word, fair dealing, respect for international law, protection of minorities, repudiation of war as an instru- ment of national policy. But they have rarely asked themselves whether and to what extent such precepts, however desirable in themselves, actually de- termine the actions of men. Furthermore, since statesmen and diplomats are wont to justify their actions and objectives in moral terms, regardless of their actual motives, it would be equally erroneous to take those protestations of selfless and peaceful intentions, of humanitarian purposes, and international ideals at their face value. It is pertinent to ask whether they are mere ideol- ogies concealing the true motives of action or whether they express a genuine concern for the compHance of international policies with ethical standards. On the other hand, there is the misconception, usually associated with the general depreciation and moral condemnation of power politics, discussed above,^ that international politics is so thoroughly evil that it is no use look- ing for ethical limitations of the aspirations for power on the international scene. Yet, if we ask ourselves what statesmen and diplomats are capable of doing to further the power objectives of their respective nations and what they actually do, we realize that they do less than they probably could and less than they actually did in other periods of history. They refuse to consider certain ends and to use certain means, either altogether or under certain con- Nature and Sources of the Law (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1927), p. 127. 2 See 15 ff. ( 174 ) International Morality ditions, not because in the light o£ expediency they appear impractical or unwise, but because certain moral rules interpose an absolute barrier. Moral rules do not permit certain policies to be considered at all from the point of view of expediency. Such ethical inhibitions operate in our time on different levels with different effectiveness. Their restraining function is most obvious and most effective in affirming the sacredness of human life in times of peace. I. THE PROTECTION OF HUMAN LIFE a ) Protection of Human Life in Peace International politics can be defined, as we have seen, as a continuing effort to maintain and to increase the power of one’s own nation and to keep in check or reduce the power of other nations. The relative power of nations depends, however, as we have also pointed out,^ upon the quantity and quality of human beings in terms of size and quality of population, size and quality of military establishment, quality of government, and, more particularly, of diplomacy. Viewed as a series of technical tasks into which ethical considera- tions do not enter, international politics would have to consider as one of its legitimate tasks the drastic reduction or even the elimination of the population of a rival nation, of its most prominent military and political leaders, and of its ablest diplomats. And when international politics was considered exclu- sively as a technique, without ethical significance, for the purpose of main- taining and gaining power, such methods were used without moral scruples and as a matter of course. According to its official records, the Republic of Venice, from 1415 to 1525, planned or attempted about two hundred assassinations for purposes of inter- national politics. Among the prospective victims were two emperors, two kings of France, and three sultans. The documents record virtually no offer of assassination to have been rejected by the Venetian government. From 1456 to 1472, it accepted twenty offers to kill the Sultan Mahomet II, the main antagonist of Venice during that period. In 1514, John of Ragusa offered to poison anybody selected by the government of Venice for an annual salary of fifteen hundred ducats. The Venetian government hired the man ‘‘on trial,” as we would say today, and asked him to show what he could do with Emperor Maximilian. In the same period the cardinals brought their own butlers and wine to a papal coronation dinner for fear they might otherwise be poisoned. This custom is reported to have been general in Rome vdthout the host’s taking offense at it. Obviously, such methods to attain political ends are no longer practiced today. Yet the political motives for employing them exist today as they did when practices of this kind actually prevailed. It is not a matter of indifference for the nations engaged in the competition for power whether or not their competitor Can avail itself of the services of outstanding military and political leaders. Thus they may hope that an outstanding leader or governing group ® Sec above, pp. 88 ft. ( 175 ) Politics among Nations will be compelled to give up the reins of power, either through a political upheaval or through infirmity and death. We know now that during the Sec- ond World War speculations as to how long Hitler and Mussolini would stay alive or at least in power formed an important part of the power calcula- tions of the United Nations, and that the news of President Roosevelt’s death revived Hitler’s hopes in victory. While these lines are being written, one of the major factors in American policy toward the Soviet Union seems to be the expectation that the group governing the Soviet Union will be unable to keep itself in power. The technical difficulties of engineering such removals from power by violent means are not greater today than they were in previous periods of history. Rather the contrary is likely to be the case. Such removals are still as desirable and feasible as they always were. What has changed is the influence of civilization which makes some policies that are desirable and feasible ethically reprehensible and, hence, normally impossible of execution. Ethical limitations of the same kind protect in times of peace the lives not only of outstanding individuals, but also of large groups, even of whole na- tions whose destruction would be both politicly desirable and feasible. In the problem of Germany, as seen both by the Germans and by the rest of the world, modern history provides a striking illustration of the influence of ethics upon international politics. The fundamental fact of international poli- tics from the German point of view has been from Bismarck to Hitler the ‘‘encirclement” of Germany by powerful nations in the East and in the West. Bismarck, however ruthless and immoral his particular moves on the chess- board of international politics may have been, rarely deviated from the basic rules of the game which had prevailed in the society of Christian princes of the eighteenth century. It was a fraudulent and treacherous game, but there were a few things which no member of that aristocratic society would stoop to do. Thus, confronted with the fundamental fact of Germany’s politick existence — the proximity of Russia and France — Bismarck accepted the in- evitability of that fact and tried to turn it to Germany’s advantage by main- taining close relations with Russia and by isolating France. Hitler, on the other hand, did not recognize the social framework within whose limitations international politics had operated from the end of the Thirty Years’ War virtually to his own ascent to power- He was free of the mc^-al scruples which had compelled Bismarck to accept the existence of France and Russia as the inescapable fact upon which to build a German foreign policy. Hider undertook to change that fact by destroying physically Germany’s eastern and western neiglfl)ors. Considered as a mere problem of political t3echnique devoid of ethical significance, Hider’s solution was much nK>re thorough and politically expedient than Bismarck’s; for it promised to solve the problem of Germany’s international position once and for all as far as the eastern and western neighbors of Germany were concerned. Further- more, in itself, Hider’s solution proved to be as feasible as it would have been in Bismarck’s time. It might have succeeded had it not been for certain errors in over-all judgment, errors which the political genius of Bismarck might well have avoided. The German problem, as it precis itself to the non-Germ^jn world and ( 176 ) Internationcil Morality especially to the nations threatened with German hegemony, was formulated with brutal frankness by Clemenceau when he declared that there were twenty million Germans too many. This statement points to the inescapable fact, which has confronted Europe and the world since the Franco-German War of 1870, that Germany is by virtue of size and quality of population the most powerful nation of Europe. To reconcile this fact with the security of the other European nations and of the rest of the world is the task of political reconstruction which faced the world after the First World War and which confronts it again after the Second. That, since Clemenceau, the German problem has always been posed in terms which take the existence of “twenty million Germans too many” for granted reveals the same ethical limitations on the pursuit of power which we foxmd in Bismarck’s foreign policy and which we did not find in Hider’s. For there are two ways of dealing with a problem of international politics, such as the German. One is the method by which the Romans irrevocably solved the Cartha- ginian problem. It is the method of solving a technical political problem by the appropriate means without regard for any transcendent ethical consider- ations. Since there were too many Carthaginians from the point of view of the power aspirations of Rome, Cato would end his every speech by proclaim- ing: **Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam'^ (“As for the rest, I am of the opinion that Carthage must be destroyed”). With its destruction the Carthaginian problem, as seen by Rome, was solved forever. No threat to Rome’s security and ambition was ever again to rise from that desolate place that once was Carthage. Similarly, if the Germans had been successful in their over-all plans and if their concentration camps and extermination camps could have finished their tasks, the “nightmare of coalitions” would have been forever banished from the minds of German statesmen. A foreign policy which does not admit mass extermination as a means to its end does not impose this limitation upon itself because of considerations of political expediency. On the contrary, expediency would counsel such a thor- ough and effective operation. The limitation derives from an absolute moral principle, the violation of which no consideration of national advantage can justify. A foreign policy of this kind, therefore, actually sacrifices the na- tional interest where its consistent pursuit would necessitate the violation of an ethical principle, such as the prohibition of mass killing in times of peace. This point cannot be too strongly made; for frequently the opinion is ad- vanced that this respect for human life is the outgrowth of “the obligation not to inflict unnecessary death or suffering on other human beings, i.e., death or suffering not necessary for the attainment of some higher purpose which is held, rightly or wrongly, to justify a derogation from the general obligation.” ^ On the contrary, the fact of the matter is that nations recognize a moral obli- gation to refrain from the infliction of death and suffering under certain conditions despite the possibility of justifying such conduct in the li^t of a higher purpc^ such as the national interest. * E. H. Carr, The Twenty YearT Crisis, 1919-39 (l-oadont Macmillan and Company, p. *96. ( 177 ) Politics among Nations b) Protection of Human Life in War Similar ethical limitations are placed upon international policies in times of war. They concern civilians and combatants unable or unwilling to fight. From the beginning of history through the better part of the Middle Ages, belligerents were held to be free, according to ethics as well as law, to kill all enemies whether or not they were members of the armed forces, or else to treat them in any way they saw fit. Men, women, and children were often put to the sword or sold into slavery by the victor without any adverse moral reactions taking place. In chapter iv of Book III of On the Law of War and Peace under the heading “On the Right of Killing Enemies in a Public War and on Other Violence against the Person,” Hugo Grotius presents an im- pressive catalogue of acts of violence committed in ancient history against enemy persons without discrimination. Grotius himself, writing in the third decade of the seventeenth century, still regarded most of them as justified in law and ethics, provided the war was waged for a just cause.® This absence of moral restraints upon killing in war resulted from the nature of war itself. In those times war was considered a contest between all the inhabitants of the territories of the belligerent states. The enemy was less a state in the modern sense of a legal abstraction than all the individuals owing allegiance to a certain lord or living within a certain territory. Thus every individual citizen of the enemy state became an enemy of every indi- vidual citizen of the other side. Since the end of the Thirty Years’ War, the conception has become preva- lent that war is not a contest between whole populations, but only between the armies of the belligerent states. In consequence, the ^stinction between combatants and noncombatants has become one of the fundamental legal and moral principles governing the actions of belligerents. War is considered to be a contest between the armed forces of the belligerent states, and, since the civilian populations do not participate actively in the armed contest, they are not to be made its object. Consequendy, it is considered to be a moral and legal duty not to attack, wound, or kill noncombatant civilians purposely. Injuries and death suffered by them as incidents of military operations, such as the bombardment of a town or a batde taking place in an inhabited area, are regretted as sometimes unavoidable concomitants of war. However, to avoid them to the utmost is again considered a moral and legal duty. The Hague Conventions with respect to the Laws and Customs of War on Land of 1899 and 1907 gave express and virtually universal legal sanction to that principle. A corresponding development has taken place with regard to members of the armed forces unwilling or unable to fight. It follows from the conception of war prevailing in antiquity and in the better part of the Middle Ages that no exception to the moral and legal right to kill all enemies could be made for certain categories of disabled combatants. Thus Grotius could still state as the prevailing moral and legal conviction of his time: “The right to inflict injury extends even over captives, and without Hnoitation of time. . . . The right ^ See especially § III. ( 178 ) International Morality to inflict injury extends even over those who wish to surrender, but whose surrender is not accepted.” ® Yet, as the logical outgrowth of the conception of war as a contest between armed forces, the idea developed that only those who are actually able and willing to participate actively in warfare ought to be the object of deliberate armed action. Those who were no longer engaged in actual warfare because of sickness, wounds, or because they had been made prisoners or were willing to be made prisoners ought not to be harmed. This tendency toward the humanization of warfare started in the sixteenth century and culminated in the great multilateral treaties of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Practically all civilized nations have adhered to these treaties. Between 1581 and 1864, 291 international agreements were concluded for the purpose of protecting the lives of the wounded and sick. The Geneva Convention of 1864, superseded by those of 1906 and 1929, translated into concrete and de- tailed legal obligations the moral convictions of the age as to the treatment to be accorded to the wounded, the sick, and the medical persons in charge of them. The International Red Cross is both the symbol and the outstanding institutional realization of those moral convictions. As concerns prisoners of war, their lot was still miserable even in the eighteenth century, although they were as a rule no longer killed, but were treated as criminals and used as objects of exploitation by being released only for ransom. Article 24 of the Treaty of Friendship, concluded in 1785 between the United States and Prussia, for the first time clearly indicated a change in the moral convictions on that matter. It prohibited the confinement of prisoners of war in convict prisons as well as the use of irons and stipulated their treatment as military personnel. The Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907 as well as the Geneva Convention of 1929 laid down a detailed system of legal rules intended to assure humane treatment of prisoners of From the same humanitarian concern with the life and sufferings of human beings exposed to the destructiveness of war emanate all the inter- national treaties concluded since the mid-nineteenth century for the ptirpose of humanizing warfare. They prohibit the use of certain weapons, limit the use of others, define the rights and duties of neutrals — in short, they try to infuse into warfare a spirit of decency and of respect for the common human- ity of all its prospective victims and to restrict violence to the minimum com- patible with the goal of war, that is, breaking the enemy's will to resist. The Declaration of Paris of 1856 limited maritime warfare. The Declaration of St. Petersburg of 1868 prohibited the use of lightweight projectiles charged with explosives or inflammable substances. The Hague Declaration of 1899 prohibited the use of expanding (dumdum) bullets. A number of interna- tional conventions prohibited gas, chemical, and bacteriological warfare. The Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907 codified the laws of war on land and sea and the rights and duties of neutrals. The London Protocol of 1936 limited the use of submarines against merchant vessels. And, in our times, attempts are being made to outlaw atomic warfare. All these efforts bear witness to the ® hoc, § X, XI. ( 179 ) Politics among Nations virtually universal growth of a moral reluctance to use violence without limi- tation as an instrument of international politics. There may be legal arguments against the validity or effectiveness of these international treaties, derived from the wholesale disregard or violations of their prohibitions. Yet this is no argument against the existence of a moral conscience which feels ill at ease in the presence of violence or, at least, certain kinds of violence on the international scene. The existence of such a conscience is attested to, on the one hand, by the attempts to bring the practice of states into harmony with moral principles through international agreements. On the other hand, it reveals itself in the general justifications and excuses de- fending alleged violations of these agreements in moral terms. Legal agree- ments of this kind are universally adhered to and nations try to live up to them, at least in a certain measure. Therefore, the protestations of innocence or of moral justification by which accusations in such matters are uniformly met are more than mere ideologies. They are the indirect recognition of cer- tain moral limitations which most nations frequently violate while feeling they ought not to violate them. c) Moral Condemnation of War Finally, there is the attitude toward war itself which, since the turn of the century, has reflected an ever increasing awareness on the part of most states- men of certain ethical limitations restricting the use of war as an instrument of international politics. Statesmen have decried the ravages of war and have justified their own participation in them in terms of self-defense or religious duty since the beginning of history. The avoidance of war itself, that is, of any war, has become an aim of statecraft only in the last half-century. The two Hague peace conferences of 1899 and 1907, the League of Nations of 1919, the Briand-Kellogg Pact of 1928 outlawing aggressive war, and the United Nations in our day — all have the avoidance of war as such as their ultimate objective. At the foundation of these and other legal instruments and organizations, of which Part Six of this book will treat in detail, there is the conviction that war, and especially modern war, is not only a terrible thing to be avoided for reasons of expediency, but also an evil thing to be shunned on moral grounds. The student of the Afferent collections of diplomatic documents concerning the origins of the First World War is struck by the hesitancy on the part of almost all responsible statesmen, with the exception perhaps of those of Vienna and St. Petersburg, to take steps which might irrevocably lead to war. This h^tancy and the almost general dismay among the statesmen when war finally proved to be inevitable contrasts sharply with the deliberate care with which, as late as the nineteenth century, wars were planned and incidents fabricated for the purpose of making war inevitable and placing the blame for starting it on the other side. In the years preceding the Second World War the policies of the Western powers were animated, to their great political and military disadvantage, by the desire to avoid war at any price. Tnis desire overrode all other considera- tions of national policy. It is especially in the refusal to consider seriously the ( 180 ) International Morality possibility of preventive war, regardless of its expediency from the point of view of the national interest, that the ethical condemnation of war as such has manifested itself in recent times in the Western world. When war comes, it must come as a natural catastrophe or as the evil deed of another nation, not as a foreseen and planned culmination of one’s own foreign policy. Only thus might the moral scruples, rising from the violated ethical norm which holds that there ought to be no war at all, be stilled, if they can be stilled at all. d) International Morality and Total War Thus in contrast to antiquity and the better part of the Middle Ages, the modern age places moral limitations upon the conduct of foreign affairs in so far as they might affect the lives of individuals or groups of individuals. There are, however, factors in the present condition of mankind which point toward a definite weakening of those moral limitations. Let us remember that the absence of moral limitations with regard to the destruction of life was concomitant with the total character of warfare in which whole populations faced each other as personal enemies. Let us remember, too, that the gradual limitation of killing in war to certain groups and its subjection to certain conditions coincided with the gradual development of limited war in which only armies faced each other as active opponents. With war taking on in recent times, to an ever greater degree and in different respects, a total char- acter, the moral limitations upon killing are observed to an ever lessening degree. Indeed, their very existence in the consciences of political and military leaders as well as of the common people becomes ever more precarious and is threatened with extinction. War in our time has become total in four different respects: (i) with re- gard to the fraction of the population engaged in activities essential for the conduct of the war, (2) with regard to the fraction of the population affected by the conduct of the war, (3) with respect to the fraction of the population completely identified in its convictions and emotions with the conduct of the war, and (4) with respect to the objective of the war. Mass armies supported by the productive effort of the majority of the civilian population have replaced the relatively small armies of previous cen- turies which consumed only a small portion of the national product. The success of the civilian population in keeping the armed forces supplied may be as important for the outcome of the war as the military effort itself. Therefore, the defeat of the civilian population — the breaking of its ability and will to produce — may be as important as the defeat of the armed forces — the breaking of their ability and will to resist. Thus the character of mod- ern war, dravring its weapons from a vast industrial machine, blurs the dis- tinction between soldier and civilian. The industrial worker, the farmer, the railroad engineer, and the scientist are not innocent bystanders cheering on the armed forces from the sidelines. They are as intrinsic and indispensable a part of the military organization.as the soldiers, sailors, and airmen. Thus a modem nation at war must wish to disrupt and destroy the productive process^ of its oiemy, and the modem technology of war provides the means Ae ^lization of Aat desire. The importance of civilian production for ( 181 ) Politics among Nations modern war and the interest in injuring enemy production were already gen- erally recognized in the First World War. Then, however, the technological means of affecting the civilian productive processes directly were only in their infancy. The belUgerents had to resort to indirect means, such as blockades and submarine warfare. They attempted to interfere directly with civilian life through air attacks and long-range bombardment only sporadically and with indifferent results. The Second World War has made the latter methods of direct interference the most effective instrument for the destruction of a nation’s productive capacity. The interest in the mass destruction of civilian life and property coincided with the ability to carry such mass destruction through, and this combination has been too strong for the moral convictions of the modern world to resist. Voicing the moral convictions of the first decades of the cen- tury, Secretary of State Cordell Hull declared on June ii, 1938, with reference to the bombardment of Canton by Japan, that the administration disapproved of the sale of aircraft and aircraft armaments to countries which had engaged in the bombing of civilian populations. In his speech of December 2, 1939, President Roosevelt declared a similar moral embargo against the Soviet Union in view of its military operations against Finnish civilians. Only a few years later all belligerents engaged in practices of this kind on a scale dwarfing those which American statesmen had condemned on moral grounds. Warsaw and Rotterdam, London and Coventry, Cologne and Nuremberg, Hiroshima and Nagasaki are stepping-stones, not only in the development of the modern technology of war, but also in the development of the modern morality of warfare. The national interest, as created by the character of modern war, and the possibility of satisfying that interest, as presented by the modern technology of warfare, have had a deteriorating effect upon the moral limitations of in- ternational policies. This deterioration is further accentuated by the emo- tional involvement of the great masses of the warring populations in modern war. As the religious wars of the latter sixteenth and of the first half of the seventeenth centuries were followed by the dynastic wars of the latter seven- teenth and eighteenth centuries, and as the latter yielded to the national wars of the nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries, so war in our time tends to revert to the religious type by becoming ideological in character. The citi- zen of a modern warring nation, in contrast to his ancestors of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, does not fight for the glory of his prince or the unity and greatness of his nation, but for an ‘‘ideal,” a set of “principles,” a “way of life,” for which he claims a monopoly of truth and virtue. In consequence, he fights to the death or to “unconditional surrender” all those who adhere to an- other, a false and evil, “ideal” and “way of Ufe.” Since it is the latter which he fights in whatever persons they manifest themselves, the distinctions between fighting and disabled soldiers, combatants and civilians — if they are not eliminated altogether — are sulordinated to the one distinction which really matters: the distinction between the representatives of the right and the wrong philosophy and way of life. The moral duty to spare the wounded, the sick, the surrendering and unarmed enemy, and to respect him as a human being who was an enemy only by virtue cc b^ing found on the other side of the ( 182 ) International Morality fence, is superseded by the moral duty to punish and to wipe off the face of the earth the professors and practitioners of evil. Under the impact of this fundamental change in the conception of war- fare, not only were the moral limitations upon killing in war, to which we have referred above, extensively violated during the Second World War, but there has developed a tendency to justify on moral grounds the refusal to take prisoners, the killing of prisoners, and the indiscriminate killing of mem- bers of the armed forces and of civilians, and thus to assuage one’s moral scruples, if not to shake them off altogether- Thus, while the moral limita- tions upon killing in times of peace in support of international policies remain intact today, the moral limitations upon killing in war have proved to be largely ineffective in our time. What is more important for the purposes of our present discussion, they have shown a tendency under the impact of a fundamentally altered conception of war to weaken and disappear altogether as rules of conduct. More than half a century ago, in an era of general optimism, a great scholar clearly foresaw the possibility of this development and analyzed its elements. John Westlake, Whewell Professor of International Law at the University of Cambridge, wrote in 1894: It is almost a truism to say that the mitigation of war must depend on the parties to it feeling that they belong to a larger whole than their respective tribes or states, a whole in which the enemy too is comprised, so that duties arising out of that larger citizenship are owed even to him. This sentiment has never been wholly wanting in Europe since the commencement of historical times, but there have been great variations in the nature and extent of the whole to which the wider attachment was felt. ... In our own time there is a cosmo- politan sentiment, a belief in a commonwealth of mankind similar to that of the Stoics, but stronger because the soil has been prepared by Christianity, and by the mutual respect which great states tolerably equal in power and similar in civilization cannot help feeling for one another. . . . There have been periods during which the level has fallen, and one such period it belongs to our subject to notice- The wars of religion which followed the Reformation were among the most terrible in which the beast in man ever broke loose, and yet they oc- curred in an age of comparative enlightenment. Zeal for a cause, however worthy the cause may be, is one of the strongest and most dangerous irritants to which human passion is sul^ect; and the tie of Protestant to Protestant and of Catholic to Catholic, cutting across the state tie instead of embracing it un- weakened in a more comprdbensive one, enfeebled the ordinary checks to pas- sion when they were most wanted. Such a degradation of war would tend to recur if socialism attained to the consistency and power of a militant creed, and met the present idea of the state on the field of battle. It is possible that we might then see in war a license equal to that which anarchism shows us in peace! ^ ^ Chapters on the Frinci^es of International Law (Cambridge: At die University Press, 1894), pp. aSj fi. ( 183 ) Politics among ISIations 2, UNIVERSAL MORALITY VS. NATIONALISTIC UNIVERSALISM The deterioration of moral limitations in international politics which has occurred in recent years with regard to the protection of life is only a special instance of a general and, for the purposes of this discussion, much more far- reaching dissolution of an ethical system which in the past imposed its re- straints upon the day-by-day operations of the foreign oflSce, but does so no longer. Two factors have brought about this dissolution: the substitution of democratic for aristocratic responsibility in foreign affairs and the substitu- tion of nationalistic standards of action for universal ones. a ) Personal Ethics of the Aristocratic International In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and to a lessening degree up to the First World War, international morality was the concern of a personal sovereign, that is, an individually determined prince and his successors, and of a relatively small, cohesive, and homogeneous group of aristocratic rulers. The prince and the aristocratic rulers of a particular nation were in constant intimate contact with the princes and aristocratic rulers of other nations. They were joined together by family ties, a common language (which was French), common cultural values, a common style of life, and common moral convictions about what a gendeman was and was not allowed to do in his relations with another gendeman, whether of his own or of a foreign nation. The princes competing for power considered themselves to be competitors in a game whose rides were accepted by all the other competitors. The members of their diplomatic and military services looked upon themselves as em- ployees who served their employer either by virtue of the accident of birth, rei^orced often, but by no means always, by a sense of personal loyalty to the monarch, or because of the promise of pay, influence, and glory which he held out to them. The desire for material gain especially provided for the members of this aristocratic society a common bond which, was stronger than the ties of dynastic or national loyalty. Thus it was proper and common for a govern- ment to pay the foreign minister or diplomat of another country a pension. Lord Robert Cecil, tii Minister of Elizabeth, received one from Spain. Sir Henry Wotton, British Ambassador to Venice in the seventeenth century, accepted one from Savoy while applying for one from Spain. The documents which the French revolutionary government published in 1793 show that France sub^dized Austrian statesmen between 1757 and 17% to the tune of 82,652479 livies, with die Austrian Chancellor Kaunitz receiving 100,000. Nor was it regarded any less proper or less usual for a government to compensate foreign statesmen for their co-operation In the conclusion of treaties. In 1716, French Cardinal Dubois offered British Minister Stanhope 600,000 livres for an alliance with France. He reported tbaj^ while not accepting the proposition at that time. Stanhope “listened without being displeased.” After the conclusion of the Treaty erf erf by which Frusda vitith- ( 184 ) Internationd Morality drew from the war against France, Prussian Minister Hardenberg received from the French government valuables worth 30,000 francs and complained of the insignificance of the gift. In 1801, the Margrave of Baden spent 500,000 francs in the form of ‘'diplomatic presents,” of which French Foreign Min- ister Talleyrand received 150,000. It was originally intended to give him only 100,000, but the amount was increased after it had become known that he had received from Prussia a snuffbox worth 66,000 francs as well as 100,000 francs in cash. The Prussian Ambassador in Paris summed up well the main rule of this game when he reported to his government in 1802: “Experience has taught everybody who is here on diplomatic business that one ought never to give anything before the deal is definitely closed, but it has also proved that the allurement of gain will often work wonders.” However much transactions of this kind were lacking in nobility, those participating in them could not be passionately devoted to the cause of the countries whose interests were in their care. Obviously they had loyalties be- sides and above the one to the country which employed them. Furthermore, the expectation of material gain at the conclusion of a treaty could not fail to act as a powerful incentive for coming speedily to an understanding with the other side. Stalemates, adjournments sine die, and long-drawn-out wars were not likely to find favor with statesmen who had a very personal stake in the conclusion of treaties. In these two respects the commercialization of state- craft in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was bound to blunt the edge of international controversies and confine the aspirations for power of indi- vidual nations within relatively narrow limits. In that period of history the Austrian Ambassador to France felt more at home at the court of Versailles than among his own nonaristocratic com- patriots. He had closer social and moral ties with the members of the French aristocracy and the other aristocratic members of the diplomatic corps than with the Austrians of humble origin. Consequendy, the diplomatic and mili- tary personnel fluauated to a not inconsiderable degree from one monarchical employer to another. It was not rare that a French diplomat or officer, for some reason of self-interest, would enter the services of the King of Prussia and would further the international objectives of Prussia, or fight in the Prus- sian Army, against France. During the eighteenth century there was, for instance, an enormous influx of Germans into all branches of the Russian government, many of whom were dismissed in a kind of purge and returned to their countries of origin. In 1756, shordy before the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War, Frederick the Great sent the Scottish Earl Marischall as his Ambassador to Spain in orda: to get information about the Spanish intentions. The Scottish Ambas- sador of Prussia had a friend in Spain, an Irishman by the name of Wall, who happened to be Spanish Foreign Minister and who told him what he wanted to know. The Scot transmitted this information to the British Prime Minister who, In turn, pa^d it on to the King of Prussia. As late as 1792, shordy be- fore the outbr^ of the War of the First Coalition against France, the French government oSered the supreme command of the French forces to the Duke of Brunswick wfac^ however, decided to accept an offer from the King of ( 185 ) Politics among Nations Prussia to lead the Prussian Army against France. As late as 1815, at the Congress o£ Vienna, Alexander I of Russia had as ministers and advisers in foreign affairs two Germans, one Greek, one Corsican, one Swiss, one Pole — and one Russian. Bismarck’s experience in 1862, on the occasion of his recall as Prussian Ambassador to Russia is significant for the persistence of this international cohesion of the aristocracy. When he expressed to the Czar his regret at the necessity of leaving St. Petersburg, the Czar, misunderstanding this remark, asked Bismarck whether he was inclined to enter the Russian diplomatic service. Bismarck reported in his memoirs that he decHned the offer “courte- ously.” ® What is important and significant for the purposes of our discussion is not that Bismarck declined the offer — many such offers have certainly been declined before and perhaps a few even after — but that he did so “courte- ously,” and that even his report, written more than thirty years after the event, showed no trace of moral indignation. Only half a century ago the offer to an ambassador, who had just been appointed prime minister, to transfer his loyalties from one country to another was considered by the recipient as a sort of business proposition which did not at all insinuate the violation of moral standards. Let us imagine that a similar offer were being made in our time by Mr. Stalin to the American Ambassador or by the American President to any diplomat accredited in Washington, and let us visualize the private embar- rassment of the individual concerned and the public indignation following the incident, and we have the measure of the profundity of the change which has transformed the ethics of international politics in recent times. Today such an offer would be regarded as an invitation to treason, that is, the violation of the most fundamental of all moral obligations in international affairs : loyalty to one’s own country. When it was made and even when it was reported shortly before the close of the nineteenth century, it was a proposition to be accepted or rejected on its merits without any lack of moral propriety attach- ing to it. The moral standards of conduct with which the international aristocracy complied were of necessity of a supranational character. They applied not to all Prussians, Austrians, or Frenchmen, but to all men who by virtue of their birth and education were able to comprehend them and to act in accordance with them. It was in the concept and the rules of natural law that this cosmo- politan society found the source of its precepts of morality. The individual members of this society, therefore, felt themselves to be personally responsible for compliance with those moral rules of conduct; for it was to them as rational human beings, as individuals, that this moral code was addressed. When it was suggested to Louis XV that he counterfeit the bills of the Bank of England, the King rejected such a proposition which “could be considered here only with all the indignation and all the horror which it deserves.’’ When a similar propc^ition was made in 1792 with respect to the French cur- rency in order to save Louis XVI, the Austrian Emperor Francis II declared that ^‘such an infamous project is not to be accepted.” * Loc. cit., I, 341. ( 186 ) International Morality This sense of a highly personal moral obligation to be met by those in charge of foreign affairs with regard to their colleagues in other countries explains the emphasis with which the writers of the seventeenth and eight- eenth centuries counseled the monarch to safeguard his “honor” and his “reputation” as his most precious possessions. Any action which Louis XV undertook on the international scene was his personal act in which his personal sense of moral obligation revealed itself and in which, therefore, his personal honor was engaged. A violation of his moral obligations, as they were recognized by his fellow-monarchs for themselves, would call into action not only his conscience, but also the spontaneous reac- tions of the supranational aristocratic society which would make him pay for the violation of its mores with a loss of prestige, that is, a loss of power* b ) Destruction of International Morality When in the course of the nineteenth century democratic selection and responsibility of government officials replaced government by the aristocracy, the structure of international society and, with it, of international morality underwent a fundamental change. Until virtually the end of the nineteenth century, aristocratic rulers were responsible for the conduct of foreign af- fairs in most countries. In the new age their place has been taken by officials elected or appointed regardless of class distinctions. These officials are legally and morally responsible for their official acts not to a monarch, that is, a specific individual, but to a collectivity, that is, a parliamentary majority, or the people as a whole. An important shift in public opinion may easily call for a change in the personnel making foreign policy. They will be replaced by another group of individuals taken from whatever group of the population prevails at the moment. Government officials are no longer exclusively recruited from aristocratic groups, but from virtually the whole population. The present American Sec- retary of State is a former general. The French Foreign Minister is a former college professor. The former General Secretary of the Transport and Gen- eral Workers Union has taken the place of the British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. A former professional revolutionary is responsible for Rus- sian foreign policy. In countries such as Great Britain, France, or Italy, where the government needs the support of a majority of parliament for its continuation in office, any change in the parliamentary majority necessitates a change in the com- position of the government. Even in a country such as the United States, where not Congress, but only general elections can put an administration into office or remove it, the turnover of the policy-makers in the State Department is considerably enough. Within eighteen months, from July 1945, to January 1947, the United States has had three secretaries of state. Of all the policy- making officials of the State Department, that is, the under-secretary and the assistant secretaries, who held office in October 1945, none was still in office two years later. The fluctuation of the policy-makers in international affairs and their responsibility to an indefinite collective entity has far-reaching con- ( 187 ) Politics among Nations sequences for the effectiveness, nay, for the very existence of an international moral order. This transformation within the individual nations changed international morality as a system of moral restraints from a reality into a mere figure of speech. When we say that George III of England was subject to certain moral restraints in his dealings with Louis XVI of France or Catharine the Great of Russia, we are referring to something real, something which can be identi- fied with the conscience and the actions of certain specific individuals. When we say that the British Commonwealth of Nations or even Great Britain alone has moral obligations toward the United States or France, we are mak- ing use of a fiction. By virtue of this fiction international law deals with na- tions as though they were individual persons, but nothing in the sphere of moral obligations corresponds to this legal concept. Whatever the con- science of George VI as the constitutional head of the British Commonwealth and of Great Britain demands of the conduct of the foreign affairs of Great Britain and of the Commonwealth is irrelevant for the actual conduct of those affairs; for George VI is not responsible for those affairs and has no actual influence upon them. What of the Prime Ministers, and the Secretaries of State for Foreign Affairs of Great Britain and of the Dominions? They are but members of the cabinet, which as a collective body determines foreign policy, as any other policy, by majority decision. The cabinet as a whole is politically responsible to the majority party whose political preferences it is supposed to translate into political action. It is legally responsible to Parliament of which it is, constitutionally speaking, only a committee. Parliament, however, is re- sponsible to the electorate from which it has received the mandate to govern and from which its individual members hope to receive another mandate at the next general election. The individual members of the electorate, finally, may have no moral con- victions of a supranational character at all which determine their actions on election day and in between, or, if they have such convictions, they will be most heterogeneous in content. In other words, there will be those who act according to the moral maxim, ‘‘Right or wrong — my country.” There will be those who apply to their own actions with regard to international affairs as wefl to the actions of the government the standard of Christian ethics. There wil be those who apply the standard of the United Nations or of world government c£ humanitarian ethics. The fluctuating members of the policy- making grni^ or ct tibe permanent bureaucracy of the Foreign Office may or may not refl^ these and similar divisions of opinion. In any case, the refer- ence to a moral ruk o£ oinffuct requires an individual conscience from which it emanates, and t|i^ is no individual conscience from which what we call the international morality erf Great Brit^ or erf any other nation could emanate. An individual staiesman may foflow the dbe First World War. One neech only to pkk « raadom any omikt udridt ocoureid in th^ kttor period, with the easoepdon of the Ntfolminc Ware, and con^rane it with the conflicts which have torn the vrcrld tpact in the last three decries in cutfer to realize the importance of thtt (hSocnoe. Let us oompeue with Ae iinsematkmal issues of our dnK die issu^ whidi brought France and the Hrqisixirgs into aimo^ conrinual oonfikt frrMn the htginning of the sizteenth to the mddie of the eighteenth century, or whkh ( 194 ) International Morality pitted Great Britain and Prussia against France in the eighteenth century. These issues were territorial aggranSzement and dynastic competition. What was then at stake was an increase or decrease o£ glory, wealth, and power. Neither the Austrian nor the British nor the French nor the Prussian "‘way of life,” that is, their system of beliefs and ethical convictions, was at stake. This is exactly what is at stake today. In the seventeenth and eighteenth cen- turies, none of the contestants on the international scene aspired to impose its own particular system of ethics, provided it had one, upon the others. The very possibility of such an aspiration never occurred to them, since they were aware only of one universal moral code to which they all gave unquestioning allegiance. That common “system of arts, and laws, and manners,” “the same level of politeness and cultivation,” and the “sense of honour and justice,” which Gibbon had detected in “the general manners of the times” and which for F&elon, Rousseau, and Vattel were a lived and living reality have today in the main become a historic reminiscence, lingering on in learned treatises, utopian tracts, and diplomatic documents, but no longer capable of moving men to action. Only shreds and fragments survive of this system of suprana- tional ethics which exerts its restraining influence upon international politics, as we have seen, only in isolated instances, such as killing in peacetime and preventive war. As for the influence of that system of supranational ethics upon the conscience of the actors on the international scene, it is rather like the feeble rays, barely visible above the horizon of consciousness, of a sun which has already set. Since the First World War, with ever increasing inten- sity and generality, each of the contestants in the international arena claims in its “way of life” to possess the whole truth of morality and politics which the others may reject only at their peril. With fierce exclusiveness all contestants equate their national conceptions of morality with what all mankind must and will ultimately accept and live by. In this, the ethics of international politics reverts to the politics and morality of tribalism, of the Crusades, and of the religious wars.^^ However much the content and objectives of today’s ethics of nationalistic universalism may differ from those of primitive tribes or of the Thirty Years’ War, they do not differ in the function which they fulfill for international politics, and in the moral climate which they create. The morality of the par- ticular group, far from limiting the struggle for power on the international See the references above, pp. i6o, i 5 i. To what extent the profession of universalisdc prindpks of morality can go hand in hand with utter depravity in acuon is clearly demonstrated in the case of Timur, the Mongc^ would-be conqueror of the world, who in the fourteenth century conquered and destroyed South- ern Asia and Asia Minor. After having killed hundreds dE thousands of pcc^le — on December 12, 1598, he massacred 100,000 Hindu prisoners before Delhi — for the glory of God and of Mohammedanism, he said to a representative conquered Aleppo: *T am not a man of blood; and God is my witness that in all my wars I have never been the aggressor, and that my enemies have always been the authors of their own calamity.” GS^n^ who reports this statement, adds: *T)uring this peaceful conversation the streets of Aleppo streamed with blood, and re-echoed with the cries ^ mothers and children, vdth the shrieks of violated vhgms. The rkh plunder that was abandoned to his soldiers might stimulate their avarice; but their cruelty was enforced by the peremptory command of produdng an ade- quate number of heads, whi^, accewding to his custom, were curiously piled in columns and I^raHnids. . . Ttte Dedim WaU of the Romm Em^e (Modem library Edition), H, 1243. ( 195 ) Politics among Nations scene, gives that struggle a ferociousness and intensity not known to other ages. For the claim to universality which inspires the moral code of one par- ticular group is incompatible with the identical claim of another group; the world has room for only one, and the other must yield or be destroyed. Thus, carrying their idols before them, the nationalistic masses of our time meet in the international arena, each group convinced that it executes the mandate of history, that it docs for humanity what it seems to do for itself, and that it fulfills a sacred mission ordained by providence, however defined. Little do they know that they ma^ under an empty sky from which the gods have departed. ( 19*5 ) CHAPTER XV World Public Opinion Little need be said about world public opinion which is not already implicit in the discussion of the preceding chapter. Yet the warning with which we started the discussion of international morality must here be repeated with special emphasis. We are here concerned with the actuahty of world public opinion. We want to know of what it consists, how it manifests itself, what f imctions it fulfills in the field of international politics, and, more particularly, in what ways it imposes restraints upon the struggle for power on the inter- national scene. There is, however, hardly a concept in the modern literature of international affairs which, in the last three decades, has been employed by statesmen and writers with greater effusiveness and less analytic^ pre- cision than the concept of world public opinion. World public opinion was supposed to be the foundation for the League of Nations. It was to be the enforcement agency for the Briand-Kellogg Pact, the decisions of the Permanent Court of International Justice, and interna- tional law in general. “The great weapon we rely upon,” declared Lord Rob- ert Cecil in the House of Commons on July 21, 1919, “is public opinion . . . and if we are wrong about it, then the whole thing is wrong.” ^ As late as April 17, 1939, less than five months before the outbreak of the Second World War, Cordell Hull, then American Secretary of State, maintained that “a public opinion, the most potent of all forces for peace, is more strongly de- veloping throughout the world.” ^ Today we hear that world public opinion will use the United Nations as its instrument, or vice versa. Life, in an edi- torial “United Nations: A Balance Sheet,” says that “The Charter relies heavily on a well-informed world opinion. The concept of U.N. as a forum, where internsaional differences can be aired in public and judged by the public, has been thoroughly validated by events.” ® The General Assembly of die United Nations, in particular, is *947* P- 4®. ^ l^mnd M. CJoodrii and Edward Hambro, Charter of the United Nations (Boston: Wof^ Pfcace Foimdaiio^ 1^6), p. 95. ( 197 ) Politics among Nations “We appeal for a world public opinion in support of the United Nations.” Yet the New Yorf^ Times goes so far as to state as a matter of fact that the Assembly of the United Nations “has considerable reserve powers under the Charter ... at least to the extent of mobilizing world opinion, which, in the last analysis, determines the international balance of power.” ® Two all-important questions must be answered before the possible mean- ing of these and innumerable similar assertions and appeals can be ascer- tained: What do we mean when we speak of world public opinion, and how docs this world public opinion manifest itself under the moral and social con- ditions of the mid-twentieth century? World public opinion is obviously a public opinion which transcends national boundaries and which unites members of different nations in a consensus with regard to at least certain fundamental international issues. This consensus makes itself felt in spontaneous reactions throughout the world against whatever move on the chesdxxixd of international politics is disap- proved by that consensus. Whenever the government of any nation proclaims a certain policy or takes a certain action on the international scene, which contravenes the opinion of mankind, humanity will rise regardless of national affiliations and at least try to impose its will through spontaneous sanctions upon the recalcitrant government. The latter, then, finds itself in about the same position as an individual or a group of individuals who have violated the metres of their nsuional society or of one of its subdivisions and are by society’s pressure cither compelled to conform with its standards or be ostracized. If such is the meaning of the common references to world public opinion, does such a world public opinion exist at present and does it exert a restrain- ing influence upon the international policies of national governments? The answer is bound to be in the negative. Modern history has not recorded one instance of a government having been deterred from a certain international pdky by the spontaneous reaction of a supranational public opinion. There have beki attempts in recent hii^ory at mobilizing world public opinion against the foreiga policy of a certain government — the Japanese aggressions Chma since 195X7 the German fiDragn policks since 1935, Italian attndk against Ediiof^ in X95S. Yet, even if mie supposed for the sake of aigiaaient tint diese aftempts were successful in a certain measure and that a wnrid puUic: opinion actini% tsmusd in those ii^tances, it certainly had no latminsng the poikks k opposed. Bm. the su{^)osition itself, as we sfaafl sne^k not suppentod hf Tbt lo a on an affirmative answer is t3eing given so often to these k lu he ioinid in ihe ntisinteqaetation of pitsMt in ike in fe ern atkii al sittwtkai^ poim to the posdhle ^elopment of a wotM faildk opknofi, and in the of a thkd one whk^ sod3k a devdbptnent iaopossibk. two feemrs from which the mistaken belief in the exigence of a world public Cfttnion originates are the commmi ex^ence certain tesm and eteSntal aspirations which unite all m ankind, and the tieclaaoiogkai unificadem of the worki What has 5 Kofember 15, I947> P* ( 198 ) World Public Opinion been neglected is the fact that everywhere in the world public opinion with regard to international affairs is molded by the agencies of national policies. These agencies, as pointed out previously,** claim for their national concep- tions of morality supranational, that is, universal recognition. I* PSYCHOLOGICAL UNITY OF THE WORLD There is at the bottom of all political contentions and conflicts an irreduci- ble minimum of psychological traits and aspirations which are the common possession of all mankind. All human beings want to live and, hence, want the things which are necessary for life. All human beings want to be free and, hence, want to have those opportunities for self-expression and self-develop- ment which their particular culture considers to be desirable. All human beings seek power and, hence, seek social distinctions, again varying with the particular pattern of their culture, which put them ahead of and above their fellow men. Upon this psychological foundation, the same for all men, rises an edifice of philosophical convictions, ethical postulates, and political aspirations. These, too, might be shared by all men under certain conditions, but actually they are not. They might be shared by all if the conditions under which men can satisfy their desire to live, to be free, and to have power, were similar all over the world, and if the conditions under which such satisfaction is withheld and must be striven for, were also similar everywhere. If this were so, the experi- ence, common to all men, of what men seek, of what they are able to obtain, of what they are denied, and of what they must struggle for would indeed create a community of convictions, postulates, and aspirations, which would provide the common standards of evaluation for world public opinion. Any violation of the standards of this world public opinion, against and by whom- ever committed, would call forth spontaneous reactions on the part of hu- manity; for, in view of the hypothetical similarity of all conditions, all men would fear that what happens to one group might happen to any group. Actually, however, redity does not correspond to our assumption of similarity of conditions throughout the world. The variations in the standard of living range from mass starvation to abundance; the variations in freedom, from tyranny to democracy, from economic slavery to equality; the variations in power, from extreme inequalities and unbridled one-man rule to wide distribution of power subject to constitutional limitations. This nation enjoys freedom, yet starves; that nation is well fed, but longs for freedom; still an- other enjoys security of life and individual freedom, but smarts under the rule of an autocratic government. In consequence, while philosophically the similarities of standards are considerable throughout the world — most politi- cal philosophies agree in their evaluation of the common good, of law, peace, and order, of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness — moral judgments and political evaluations show wide divergencies. The same moral and politi- cal amc&^ take on different meanings in different environments. Justice and ^ Set above, pp. i^s ( 199 ) Folitics among Nations democracy come to mean one thing here, something quite different there. A move on the international scene decried by one group as immoral and unjust is praised by another as the opposite. Thus the contrast between the community of psychological traits and elemental aspirations, on the one hand, and the atwscnce of shared experiences, universal moral convictions, and com- mon political aspirations, on the other, far from providing evidence for the existence ol a world public opinion, rather demonstrates its impossibility, as hmmokf is constituted in our age. 2. AMBIGUITY OF TECHNOLOGICAL UNIFICATION That same age, however, has provided a phenomenon which seems to have brought a world public opinion close to realization, if it has not actually created it — the technological unification of the world. When we say that this is “One World,” we mean not only that the modern development of commumcations has virtually obliterated geographical distances with regard to physical contacts and exchange of information and ideas among the mem- bers m the human race. Wc mean also that this virtually unlimited oppor- tunity Sor physical and intellectual communication has created that com- munity of experience embracing all humanity, from which a world public opinion can grow. Yet that conclusion is not borne out by the facts. Two con- sidoations show that nothing in the moral and political spheres corresponds to the tixhnological unification of the world; that, quite the contrary, the world is today further removed from moral and political unification than it was undor much less favorable technological conditions. First of all, modem techiK)k)gy, while enormously faciUtating communica- tions among different countries, has also given their governments and private agtndes unprccecknted power to make sikh communications impossible. Two hundr^ years ago it wbs easier for a literate Russian to learn about French political thought and action than it is today. An Englishman who wanted to spread his political ideas amcmg the French had then a better chance than he has today. It was then sin^kr fix a Spamard to migrate or even 10 travel to the North American continent than it is today. For modern tiaejiiioi0|gr bm not only made it techaologicaliy possabk for the individual to mmmmkMr. with oda^ iixiividuak r^;ardiess ci geographical distances, it Im aho m tide k possible for governments and private agencies ol m cut off such oommunkations altogether if they see fit In do aa. Aiid while die oommumcatkMis between individuais have remained bsgdhr m 0m vmkm o£ tochniod possibility^ fovemmeat and private controls ham bopooao ai lodfodcal Fifty yeatia ihio who wanted to visit a fexeign coun- try nee ded owly m the means of Irnn^JoitatiDii in order to go there. Today the WofWP* of jedinoiogy wiH aroil him iKXhing if he lacks one of those gcnyernmerital papm widiout wl^ no humm beii:^ is able to cross a fierier. Yet, only in the stigma irf badkwardiie^ and almost of harism ^tached to Rusm and Tinkiy ^ die ixily two coumtibs whkh required a passport for kmmg or emerii^ the nationai ( 2CX) ) World Public Opinion not to forget that it is modern technology which has made totalitarian gov- ernments possible by enabling them to put their citizens on a moral and intellectual diet, feeding them certain ideas and information and cutting them off from others. It is also modern technology which has made the collection and dissemination of news and of ideas a big business requiring considerable accumulations of capital. In the technologically primitive age, when printing was done by hand, any man of moderate means could reach the public ear by having a book, pam- phlet, or newspaper printed and distributed at his own expense. Today the great mass of the people everywhere have no influence upon the mouthpieces of public opinion. With few exceptions, only men and organizations of con- siderable means and those who hold opinions approved by them can make themselves heard in the arena of public opinion. In virtually all countries the overwhelming weight of these opinions supports what the respective govern- ments consider in their relations with foreign governments to be the national interest. Little information and few ideas unfavorable to the national point of view are allowed to reach the public. These assertions are too obvious to require elaboration. This is indeed “One World” technologically, but it is not for this reason that it is or will become “One World” morally and politi- cally. The technological universe which is technically possible has no counter- part in the actual conditions under which information and ideas are ex- changed among the members of different nations. Yet, even if information and ideas were allowed to move freely over the globe, the existence of a world public opinion would by no means be assured. Those who beUevc that world public opinion is the direct result of the free flow of news and of ideas fail to distinguish between the technical process of transmission and the thing to be transmitted. They deal only with the former and completely disregard the latter. However, the information and ideas to be transmitted are the reflection of the experiences which have molded the philosophies, ethics, and political conceptions of different peoples. Were those experiences and their intellectual derivatives identical throughout humanity the free flow of information and of ideas woxdd indeed create by itself a world public opinion. Actually, however, as we have seen, there is no identity of experience uniting mankind above the elemental aspirations which are com- liK>n to all men. Since this is so, the American, Indian, and Russian— each will consider the same news item from his particular philosophic, moral, and political perspective, and the different perspectives will give the news a dif- ferent color. The same report on the dvil war in Greece or the Russo-Iranian Treaty concerning oil exmeessions will have a different weight as a news- worthy kem, adde from any ofdiion to be formed about it, in the eyes of dif- ferent Not cmiy will the different perspective cok>r the same piece of information, it will also affect the seiccrtion c£ what is newsworthy from among the infinite nm3rf>er of daily occurrences throughout the world. “All tl^ News That’s Fit ^ FrinlT pm thing for the New Yor\ Times, ancdier thing for the Hmdusmn Times. A comparison of the of ci^aent new^pers on any particular day bears out to tke interpraation cx£ the news in the light ( 201 ) Politics among Nations of philosophy, morality, and politics, the cleavages which separate the mem- bers of different nations from each other become fully manifest. The same item of information and the same idea mean something different to an Ameri- can, a Russian, and an Indian; for that item of information and that idea are perceived by, assimilated to, and filtered through minds which are condi- tioned by different experiences and molded by different conceptions of what is true, good, and politically desirable and expedient. Thus, even if we lived in a world actually unified by modern technology with men, news, and ideas moving freely regardless of national boundaries, we would not have a world public opinion. For while the minds of men would be capable of communicating with each other without political im- pediments, they would not meet. Even if the American, Russian, and Indian could ^peak to each other, they would speak with different tongues, and if they uttered the same words, they would signify different objects, values, and aspirations to each of them. So it is with concepts, such as democracy, free- dom, security. The disillusion of differently constituted minds communicating the same words, which embody their most firmly held convictions, deepest emotions, and most ardent aspirations, without finding the expected sympa- thttic response, has driven the members of different nations further apart rather than united them. It has tended to harden the core of the different na- tional public opinions and to strengthen their claims for exclusiveness rather than to merge them into a world public opinion. 3. THE BARRIER OF NATIONALISM In order to illustrate the importance of this last observation, let us con- rider Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points. During the last months of the First World War, the Fourteen Points were accepted by so substantial a portion of humanity, regardless of national boundaries and of allegiance to one or the other of the belligerent camps, as principles for a just and enduring peace seetkmeat that thorc indeed scen^ to exist a world public opinion in support of them. Yet, as Mr. Walter lippmann’s brilliant analysis of the public opin- ion si^ipoitiag the Fourteen Pdius has made dear: It woiild be a retake to s&pposc that ti^ apparendy unanimous enthusiasm wiidi gce e c e d the Fourteen ^ints represent agreement on a program. EMryone seemed m find something that he liked and ^mssed this aspect and that doeriL But no ofie liriDed a discussion. The phrases, so pregnant with the mderifing €xmSm irf the dviliaed w&Ad, ware acce|«cd Tb^ sS)od for oppos- ifif trit lief etoksod a oommon emotkm. And to that extent they played a pm in die westen peoples for the desperate ten months of war which bad si3i ^ endme. AskxigastiieFdnyriteenPotijE^ that hazy and happy future when the ^|QC 2 j was Iso be the real ooinScts of interpietation were not made manifest. Tlicy were plans dbe setsfeedieait c£ a wboUy invisible environment, and be- cause these plaiis imfM M grot^ eadi with its own private all hopes ran together as a ptibBc hope. . . . Am yon ascend hkrardby in order to in- dude mom and more &cti^ you fer a rime preserve the nection though you base the mtd^cmalt even the becomes ( 202 ) World Public Opinion As you go further away from experience, you go higher into generalization or subtlety. As you go up in the balloon you throw more and more concrete objects overboard, and when you have reached the top with some phrase like the Rights of Humanity or the World Made Safe for Democracy, you see far and wide, but you see very little. Yet the people whose emotions are entrained do not remain passive. As the public appeal becomes more and more all things to all men, as the emotion is stirred while the meaning is dispersed, their very private meanings are given a universal application. Whatever you want badly is the Rights of Humanity. For the phrase, ever more vacant, capable of meaning almost anything, soon comes to mean pretty nearly everything. Mr. Wilson’s phrases were understood in endlessly different ways in every corner of the earth. . . . And so, when the day of settlement came, everybody expected every- thing. The European authors of the treaty had a large choice, and they chose to realize those expectations which were held by those of their countrymen who wielded the most power at home. They came down the hierarchy from the Rights of Humanity to the Rights of France, Britain and Italy. They did not abandon the use of symbols. They abandoned only those which after the war had no peimanent roots in the imagination of their constituents. They preserved the unity of France by the use of symbolism, but they would not risk anything for the unity of Europe. The symbol France was deeply attached, the symbol Europe had only a recent history. . . J Mr. Lippmann’s analysis of the apparent world public opinion supporting Wilson’s Fourteen Points lays bare the crux of the problem — the interposition of nationalism with all its intellectual, moral, and political concomitants be- tween the convictions and aspirations of humanity and the world-wide issues which face men everywhere. While men everywhere subscribed to the words of the Fourteen Points, it was the particular nationalisms, molding and direct- ing the minds of men, which infused their particular meanings into these words, painted them with their particular color, and made them symbols of their particular aspirations. Yet nationalism has the same effect upon issues with regard to which humanity has developed not only common verbal expressions, such as the Fourteen Points, democracy, freedom, and security, but also an actual con- sensus bearing upon the substance of the case. In contemporary international politics there is no opinion more widely held anywhere in the world than the abhorrence of war, the opposition to it, and the desire to avoid it. When they think and speak of war in this context, the men in the streets in Washington, in Moscow, in Chungking, in New Delhi, in London, in Paris, and in Madrid have pretty much the same thing in mini that is, war waged with the mod- ern means of mass destruction. There appears to exist a genuine world public opinion with respect to war. But here again the appearances are deceptive. Humanity is united in its opposition to war in so far as that opposition manifests itself in philosophic terms, moral postulates, and abstract political a^irations, that is, with regard to war as such, with regard to war in the abWact. But humanity thus united reveals its impotence, and the apparent public opiniw splits into its n^onal cx^mponents, when the issue is no ^ Walter lippmann, PuMkr Opinion, pp. 214 £E. Copyright 1922, by The Macmillan Com- and used with their pemission. ( -7.0? ^ Politics among Nations longer war as such, in the abstract, but a particular war, this particular war; not any war, but war here and now. When actual war threatens in our time, as it did in the recurring crises of 1938-39, humanity remains united in its horror of war as such and in oppo- sidon to it. But men arc incapable of translating this abstract opposition to war as such into concrete action against this particular war. While most members o£ the human race, qua members of the human race, consider war under the conditions of the mid-twentieth century an evil which will make the winner only slightly less miserable than the loser, most members of the human race, qua Americans, Chinese, Englishmen, and Russians, look at a particular war, as they have always done, from the point of view of their particular nations. They oppose wars which do not affect what they regard as their national interest, such as Italy’s war against Ethiopia, yet they are un- willing to take or to support any action which might be effective in pre- venting or putting an end to the war. For, if it is to be effective, such action must be drastic, involving certain disadvantages and risks for what is con- sidered to be the national interest. Customers may be lost and friends estranged; even the risk of an armed conflagration for other than national objectives might have to be faced. The sanctions against Italy, after it had attacked Ethiopia, are the classic example of this general condemnation of war by so-called world public opin- kwi and of its unwillingness to take effective action seemingly not required by what is considered to be the national interest. Winston Churchill trenchantly fcNTmulated this dikmma between condemnation of war in the abstract and the unwillingness to act ciffcctivcly in a a?ncrcte situation, when he said of the representatives of the British sector of that “world public opinion”: “First the Prime Minister had declared that sanctions meant war; secondly, he was resolved that there must be no war; and thirdly, he decided upon sanc- tions. It was evidently impossible to comply with these three conditions.” ® World public opinion, however, ceases to operate at all as one united force whenever a W2r threatens or breaks out which affects the interests of a num- ber of nations. Undar such circumstances, the universal condemnation of war undergoes a signifkant change in focus. The opposition to war as such is tran^brnied into opposition to the nation which threatens to start, or actually has staited, a partioilar war» and k so h^jpens that this nation is always hfentiod widi the national enesny whose bdli^^arent attitude threatens the n atimirf hmssmt axkl, wmst be m a war-monger. In other om of dae oommm mM of the cxmdmmrncm of war there warn qpeciBc acts of cSsectad again^ whoever threatens thnni^ war the iniMests of partieslisr nation cmi 3 kmmi by nadmal pdMc ofanions as there are nations tfareatemog the interests of others through The simatiem dbe world 19^ on is instnictive in this TG^poct. Througboi^ this im decade all nations have turifcraily b^n exposed n> war in gcoarstL Yet, when k came to the of an active pMc opinion wiudi wooklt^iiction aaoid^topfeventortoofpe^apaiticE^ ^ Lonim Stam^kr 4 $ ^ < 93 ^ ( 204 ) World Public Opinion war, the lines were drawn according to the national interest involved in the particular situation. Thus the public opinion of Great Britain and France, throughout that period, condemned Germany as a potential or actual threat of war, yet it condemned the Soviet Union on that count only from August 1939 to June 1941, that is, during the operation of the Russo-German pact. Since the end of 1945, public opinion in these two countries has again be- come critical of the foreign policies of the Soviet Union as a threat to world peace. Russian public opinion, on the other hand, opposed Germany as the main threat to peace until the signing of the pact with Germany in August 1939. From then until the German attack against the Soviet Union in June 1941, the Western democracies were regarded as war-mongers. Germany’s attack swung Russian opinion against it and until about the end of 1945 Germany held its former place in the Russian public mind as a threat to peace. Since the end of 1945, with ever increasing emphasis, Russian public opinion has come to con- sider the United States as the main threat to peace. American public opinion coincided in different degrees of intensity with the British and French point of view up to the end of 1945. Then, returning the Russian compliment, it started to regard the Soviet Union as the main menace to peace. The intensity of this opinion in the United States has mounted at a rate paralleling the rising intensity of opinion in the Soviet Union. Thus, whenever a concrete threat to peace develops, war is opposed not by a world public opinion, but by the public opinions of those nations whose interests are threatened by that war. It follows that it is obviously futile to base one’s hopes for the preservation of peace in the world, as it is presently constituted, upon a world public opinion which exists only as a general senti- ment, but not as a source of action capable of preventing a threatening war. Wherever one probes beneath the surface of popular phraseology, one finds that a world public opinion restraining the international policies of national governments does not exist. A final general consideration of the nature of public opinion, as it becomes active in the mores of society, will show that under present world conditions this cannot be otherwise. While one can visualize a society without an active public opinion and while there have doubtless existed and still exist authoritarian societies whose public opinion does not operate as an active force in the sphere of international politics, ob- viously no public opinion can exist without a society. Society, however, means consensus concerning certain basic moral and social issues. This consensus is predominantly moral in character when the mores of society deal with politi- cal issues. In other words, when public opinion in the form of the mores be- comes operative with regard to a politick problem, the people generally try to bring their moral standards to bear upon that prrAlem and to have it solved in accordance with tbo^ standards. A public opinion capable of ex- erting a restraining influence upon political action presupposes a society and a common morality from which it rec^ves its standards of action, and a world pi^Ec opinion of this kind rojuircs a world society and a morality by which humanity as a wherfe judges political actions on the international scene. As we havje; Such a world society and such a universal morality do apt earn. Between the ckmental a^arations for life, freoiom, and power, ( 205 ) Politics among Nations which unite mankind and which could provide the roots for a world society and universal morality, and the political philosophies, ethics, and objectives actually held by the members of the human race, there intervenes the nation. Tl^ nation fills the minds and hearts of men everywhere with particular experiences and, derived from them, with particular concepts of political ptdiosophy, particular standards of political morality, and particular goals of political action. Inevitably, then, the members of the human race live and act politically not as members of one world society applying standards of univer- sal ethics, but as members of their respective national societies guided by their national standards of morality. In politics the nation, and not humanity, is the ultimate fact. Inevitably, then, what is real are national public opinions fashioned in the image of the political philosophies, ethics, and aspirations of the respective nations. A world public opinion restraining the international policies of national governments is a mere postulate; the reality of interna- tional affairs shows as yet hardly a trace of it. When a nation invokes “world public opinion” or “the conscience of man- kind” in order to assure itself, as well as other nations, that its international policies meet the test of standards shared by men everywhere, it appeals to nothing real. It only yields to the general tendency, with which we have dealt before, to raise a particular national conception of morality to the dignity of universal laws binding upon all mankind. The confidence with which all the anta^>mst$ in the international arena believe themselves to be supported by world public opinion with respect to one and the same issue only serves to imderiine the irrationality of the appeal. In the twentieth century, as we have seen, people want to believe that they champion not only, and perhaps not even primarily, their own national interests, but the ideals of humanity as well For a scientific civilization which receives most of its information al^ut what other people think from public-opinion polls, world public opinion be- comes the mythical arbiter who can be counted upon to support one’s own, as well as everybody elsc’s, aspirations and actions. For those more philosophi- cally incline^ the “judgment of history” fulfills a similar function. For the re- ligious, there is the “will of God” to support their cause, and believers witness the mange and singularly blasphemous spectacle of one and the same God bkssing through his ministers the arms on either side of the battle line and leading both armies either to deserved victory or to undeserved defeat. ( 206 ) PART SIX LIMITATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL POWER; INTERNATIONAL LAW CHAPTER XVI The Ts/lain Problems of International Paw I. THE GENERAL NATURE OF INTERNATIONAL LAW The same caution against extremes, with which we started the discussion o£ international morality and of world public opinion, must apply also to the discussion of international law. An increasing number of writers express the opinion that there is no such thing as international law. A diminishing num- ber of observers hold that international law, if duly codified and extended to regulate the political relations of states, could become through its own inner force, if not a substitute for, at least a restraining influence upon, the struggle for power on the international scene. As Professor Brierly puts it: Too many people assume, gaierally without having given any serious thought to its character or its history, tnat international law is and always has been a sham. Others seem to think that it is a force with inherent strength of its own, and that if only we had ti^ sense to set the lawyers to work to draft a com- prehensive code for the nations, we mi^t live tog^cr in peace and all would be well with die world. Whether the cynic or the sciolist is the kss helpful is hard to say, but both of them make the same mistake. They both assume that intcrnationd law is a subject on which anyone can form his opinions intuitivdy, without taking the trouble, as one has to do with other subjects^ to inquire into the relevant fiicts.^ The modern system of international law is the result of the great political tranrformaiioii which marked the transition from the hCddk Ages to the HKidern pmed history. It can be summ^ 15) as the transformation of the feudal syston into the territorial state. The main characteristic of the latter, <^sdngui4hi|ig.it feom its predecessor, was the assumption by the govern- of supreipp aui^rity witbiP die territory of the state. The monarch with fcndal Icwrds within the state territory irimure the nominal rather than the actual head. Politics among Nations Nor did he share it with the Church which throughout the Middle Ages had claimed m certain respects supreme authority within Christendom. When this transformation had been consummated in the sixte^th century, the political world consisted of a number of states which within their respective territories were, legally speaking, completely independent of each other, recognizing no earthly authority above themselves. In one word, they were soverdgn. If there was to be at least a certain measure of peace and order in the re- lations among such entities endowed with supreme authority within their territories and having continuous contact with each other, it was inevitable that certain rules of law should govern these relations. That is to say, there must be certain rules of conduct defined beforehand, whose violation would normally call forth certain sanctions, also defined beforehand as to their nature and the conditions and mode of their application. States must, for in- stance, know where the frontiers of their territory are on land and on sea. They must know under what conditions they can acquire a valid title to territory cither owned by no one at all as in the case of discovery, or by an- other state as in the case of cession or annexation. They must know what authenity they have over citizens of other states living on their territory and over thdr dtizeas living abroad. When a merchant vessel flying the flag of State A ^ters a port dE State B, what are the rights of State B with regard to that vessel? And what if the vessel is a warship? What are the rights of dif^onmk: re|»escntativcs accredited to a foreign government and what are the rights of the head of the state on foreign soil? What is a state allowed and obligated to do in times of war with respect to combatants, civilians, prisoners, neutrals, on the sea and on land? Under what conditions is a treaty between two or more states binding, and under what conditions does it lose its binding force? And if a treaty or another rule of international law is claimed to have been vidhted, who has the right to ascertain the violation and who has the right to take what kind of enforcement measures and under what conditions ? These and many other issues c£ a similar nature rise of necessity from the among somdga states, and if anarchy and violence are not to be the cmle:r of the day, rules mu^ cfommne tl^ mutual rights and obliga- tkiis m smh situatiofis;. A ODve of fdcs af internatiooal law laying down the rights and duties of in to each other developed in the fifecenth and sixteenth cen- turies. Hiese rules of internalkmai kw were securely established in 1648, theTituty of Wesl|^^ broi^te the rdigious wars to an end and made ^ in the oT' fbatt 'Smy spttk of Cte h$ fiemndadon, ei^teenth and, mme pur to lE ri y, the igaeieatih mi t^tfoth centuries kaSt an imposing ! of decirions of intema- : oqufis. treaties and deddons arising horn the the r^ok of modem sarviocs, and the numfeer dE i nations ooniactl which are and the In^ ( ura \ The Main Problems of International Law ternational Red Cross, the Permanent Court of International Justice and its successor, the International Court of Justice, the League of Nations, the United Nations, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Or- ganization (UNESCO), the Universal Postal Union, the International Insti- tute of Agriculture, the International Monetary Fund, and many others, in which most nations have co-operated for the lurtherance of their common interests. It is also worth mentioning, in view of a widespread misconception in this respect, that during the four hundred years of its existence international law has in most instances been scrupulously observed. When one of its rules was violated, it was, however, not dways enforced and, when law enforcement action was actually taken, it was not always effective. Yet to deny that inter- national law exists at all as a system of binding legal rules flies in the face of all the evidence. This misconception as to the existence of international law is at least in part the result of the disproportionate attention which public opinion has paid in recent times to a small fraction of international law, while neglecting the main body of it. Public opinion has been concerned mainly with spectacular instruments of international law, such as the Briand-Kellogg Pact, the Covenant of the League of Nations, and the Charter of the United Nations. These instruments are indeed of doubtful efficacy and sometimes even of doubtful validity. They are, however, not typical of the traditional rules of international law concerning, for instance, ffie limits of territorial jurisdiction, the rights of vessels in foreign waters, and the status of diplomatic representatives. To recognize that international law exists is, however, not tantamount to asserting that it is as effective a legal system as the national legal systems are and that, more particularly, it is effective in regulating and restraining the struggle for power on the international scene. International law is a primitive t ype of law resemb l ing t he kind of law which prevails in certain preliterate ■cietie.s, such as the Austrffim a^ngmes md theT urok ofT ^m eih Cali- f ornia? J t is a primitive type of law primarily because it is almost company decentrafized law. ItTs^ecentfaEzecTvrith regard to the Ttee'feasfer^tnrcriaxHr' whic fi~mv legal systein 'must~fuffifl : legiifla^^ ai^ufficiS o m"and SiFofoi T meat. 1. THE LEGISLATIVE FUNCTION IN INTERNATIONAL LAW a) Its Decen^alhted Character In our contemporary domestic societies, the most important rules of law arc seated by le^sfeitors and courts, that is to say, by centralized agencies which create law dthcr for all members of the national community, as do Coi^grcss and the Stfjreme Court of the United States, or fca: certain regional groups, as ck) state legiriatures, city councils, and regional and local courts. ^ jStee "PjiiiMtive Law” Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, IX, 305-204f Im: sec p. 2 ^ 2 , Fsjl^iSfamong Nations In tBe sphere there are but two forces creating law : ;necessity ^gp^ iang tt ^rivmsftntt International law contains a small number of rutes con- <%nuH^1& instance, the limits of national sovereignty, the interpretation of its own rules, and the like. These rules are binding upon individual states regardless erating under the rule of stare ieeids, that is, hound by precedents. Instead of a municipal law regulating sewi^ (Sqnsal or zoning in a cmain munidpality, these issues would be taken care of by a number ci {mvate agreements concluded among the resi- dents of the difEierent streets. The munidpality, then, would have as many regulatkxis as diere are streets. The inevita^ result of such a system of legis- ktion would be, on the cxK hatKl, lack of l^;al r^;alatioa akogether whenever the unanimous oonsoat df all tl»se conoeined ym not hnthcoming. On the other hand, there would be unoertainty about vdiat the law actually was in a patticidar case, md there would be contradktimts among tlK difier^t sets rules legukomg dlK same dtoatioBs whh regard to diSes^ individuals. That is tlie skusttiaa w^kh eadsts in the field of international law, mitigated «nedy titts riWaricoi, ^ AssetoMy of Ac Uinted Natioins passed in Its Second on 14, 3:947, a resoMbn dedariog it to be of panunoont im- itadoo of die and of the consdtadons of the ^)ccialked nj^ed prindite in^raadkinal law. The rest^udon called ^5ecificaliy : tJdted Naridas 60 adriswy opinknis from the Intematioiial Court S df ibw which have arisen in ii» oxirse ’d dieir activities (Umted NtOtens ^ ^ ^ leo lb $eet^ howew, what cjctent the representatives of the ^ these agses^dc^ 'dB make use edkedvriy oi die opporttmiiy of which lar mJde no me iadividuaily. ( 217 ) Politics among Nations stitutional rcquirctri^nts or it has not, and it has either been invalidated by the Supreme Court or it has not. There may be insecurity as to its constitu- tionality or interpretation until the Supreme Court has spoken with final authority, but not as to its very existence as a valid rule of law. It is this in- security as to the existence of certain fundamental rules of international law, duly signed and ratified by virtually all members of the international com- munity, which shakes the very foun^tion of international law. Let us consider what is prdbably the most spectacular example of this type dE international law» tk Briaad-KcUogg Pa gLio^which virtually all nations agreed rcnoimcc as an instrument of national ^licy in their relations with one another?^ Has this agreement been from the beginning a rule of international law binding upon all signatories, or is it merely a statement of moral principle without legal effect? Has the international law of the Nurem- berg trials, according to which the preparation for, and the waging of, ag- gressive war is an international crime, applied the already existing law of the Briand-KcUogg Pact, or has it created international law which did not exist before? And has it done the one or the other only for the specific cases decided in Nuremberg or for any similar cases which might occur in the future? Different schools of thought have answered these questions in dif- ferent ways, and this is not the place to settle the controversy. What is im- portant to note in the context of this discussion is the weakness of a legal system which is incapable of giving a precise answer to so fundamental a question as to whether it forbids collective acts of violence for certain pur- poses. Thus there is today no way of stating with any degree of authority whether any country which went to war after 1929 in pursuance of its national policies has violated a rule of international law and is liable before interna- tional law icn: its violation; or whether only those individuals responsible for preparing and declaring the Second World War are liable in this way; or wfarthcr all countries and mdividuals which will prepare for, and wage, aggressive war in the future will thus be liable. What about the Icgai validity of the Convention with Respect to the Laws and Custofus of War on Land of 1899 and 1907 and its binding force upon its signatories in the Second World War and in a future war? Tins convention, which was ifairly well deserved during the First World War and whose viola- weane then poimsed out regdbriy, was, as we have scen,^*^ violated regu- iwfy and on a mm scale bf all bdligcrents during the Second World War. these viplarinfi% muHonested and unpunished, broi^h^ the l^;ai validity and the hindBng haoe cl dus otmvention to an or has the convention anrmed dbe Seound World War as a kgai iBstouaaent which can be invoked and made the stantkrd o£ actioii in a jEuture war? And what ^)Out simibr que^iws wWh r^pect to lie rules of maritime warfare whidt were also gen- erally Intlhe ipeCMti WdtH War with haitHy an attempt at enforex- mcm being made^ enemy sh^ indiscriminateiy and without wsaning m imd both rides hmM dvifi^ Sjmg these ykimmm of tihe lufes # witib nu&ary necesrity;- Jf rttfcs rf U>«oefai3«r 7 , ^ , ,, f ■ , v . See ppw iSi fi. j' , . ( 218 ) The Main Problems of International Law international law are consistently violated and the violations are accepted as a matter of course by all subjects of the law, if, therefore, the legal rules are treated by those who ought to enforce them as though they did not exist, the ques- tion arises: Do they still exist as binding legal rules? No precise answer can be given to these questions at the moment. But, in view of the probable develop- ment of the technology of war and of international morality, the odds are against survival of these rules. In 1936 the League of Nations’ sanctions against Italy failed, and in the fol- lowing years the wholesale violations of the most important provisions of the Covenant were treated with indifference by all governments concerned. Then similar questions were raised with respect to the Covenant of the League of Nations as a whole and to certain of its provisions. Governments acted as though those provisions had lost their binding force, but did they actually lose it or did their legal validity survive the crisis of the late thirties and of the Second World War to expire only with the formal dissolution of the League in 1946? No unequivocal and precise answer to these questions was forthcoming when they were first raised, nor is there an answer now. There can be little doubt that the transformation of the United Nations from what the Charter intended it to be into something quite different with the con- comitant disregard of legal rules will confront the observer with similar ques- tions and that his answers can only be uncertain, ambiguous, and tentative. The tentative, ambiguous, and uncertain character of the answers to so im- portant and fundamental questions is again the measure of the deficiency of international law from the legislative point of view. 3. THE JUDICIAL FUNCTION IN INTERNATIONAL LAW Despite these deficiencies resulting from the decentralized character of the legislative function, a legal system might still be capable of holding the as- pirations for power of its subjects in check if there existed judicial agencies which could speak with authority whenever a dissension occurred with regard to the existence or the import of a I^al rule. Thus the ambiguities and gen- eralities of tl^ American Constitution have been made largely innocuous through the compulsory jurisdiction of the Supreme Court in matters of con- stitutional interpretation. More particularly, the English common law has been given certainty and precision primarily by the decisions of courts and only to a small extent by formal legislative enactments. A hierachy of judi- cial agencies perfixms in all developed i^al systems the tadc of determining authoritative^ and with finality the rights and duties of the subjects of the law. If an individual citizen of the United States maintains against another American citizen that a federal statute does not apply to him either because of constitutional defects or in view of the meaning of the statute itself, either dkizm can tmder certain prot^dural conditions submit his claim for an au- thoritative decisibn ctf the issue to a federal court. The jurisdiction of the court is established when the claim is made by either party; it is not dependent ^ ( 219 ) Politics among Nations upon the consent of the other party. In other words, an American citizen can summon another citizen before a court of law to have their Icgd relations authcnritatively determined, and is thus able to establish the jurisdiction of the a>urt by his own unilateral action. The party which is dissatisfied with the decmcm can appeal to a higher court, until as the court of last resort the Supreme Court will say with finality what the law is in the case. That de- daon has, by virtue of the rule of stare decisis, the quality of a legislative actkm in that it creates law not only between the parties and with respect to the particular case, but with regard to all persons and situations to which the rstfionale of the decision applies. International law is deficient in all three fundamentals of an efficient judi- cial system: compulsory jurisdiction, hierarchy of judicial decisions, and the application of the rule of stare decisis at least to the decisions of the highest court. The sole source for the jurisdiction of international courts is the will of the states submitting disputes for adjudication. It is axiomatic in international law that no state can be compellra against its will to submit a dispute with another state to an international tribunal. In other words, no international court can take jurisdiction over international disputes without the consent of the states concerned. “It is well established in international law,” the Pennaiient Court of International Justice said in the Eastern Carelia Case, “diat no state can, without its consent, be compelled to submit its disputes with ocher states either to mediation or to arbitration, or to any other kind of padfic settlement. Such consent can be given once and for all in the form of an chligation freely undertaken, but it can, on the contrary, also be given in a special case apart from any existing obligation.” In the case ti so-called isolated arbitration,^^ that is, when the parties agree to suimoit one individual dispute, after it has occurred to the jurisdiction of an international tribunal, this prindpie manifests itself rin^ly in the require- mem of a ocKttracmai obl^atimi between the parties establishing the jurisdic- tion of dhe coiBt. Thus, when die United Sta^ and Gre^ Britain were un- sIjIs m aenie the Alaha^ dmms by dif^omatic negodabbns, th^ agreed in a CBBBtf to SHbodt die ^qpote to an imecnadcnial o^undL After die tribunal had readerad Ihr in this partk^br case, it didKitided; for its juris- - -- -. 1 - Jl.iCL: .I Tk was etlmaitojiiddhllfe case. If another dilute arcoe becaRta iho UWM JNtos smd ©mat «o he aetdbd by is^ierm^cmal woold tern to be omdodod'atKl z me^ pn> 1... neached hctweai Ac parties as to »♦ p.G «We** _ „ himer netm » BcrmmcBt Com h mm ( 220 ) ’If"' The Main Problems of International Law the definition o£ the dispute, the composition and the procedure of the tribunal, and the legal rules to be applied, no judicial settlement would be possible. In the case of so-called institutional arbitration, that is, when a whole class of disputes — for example, those of a legal character or those arising from a peace or commercial treaty — are submitted in advance of their occurrence to international adjudication by a general agreement, the consent of the parties is generally required for two different stages in the proceedings. It is required for the general agreement to submit certain classes of disputes to the jurisdic- tion of an international court. It is required for the particular agreement, also called compromis, that this particular dispute belongs to the class for which the general agreement provides international adjudication. When, for instance, an arbitration treaty between two nations provides that all legal dis- putes arising between them in the future shall be submitted to an interna- tional tribunal, neither state has as a rule the right to establish the jurisdiction of the court unilaterally, by simply submitting a particular legal dispute for adjudication. A special agreement relative to this particular dispute is neces- sary to establish the jurisdiction of the court. The care with which states generally guard the contractual character of the jurisdiction of international courts is illustrated by Professor Lauterpacht; . . the majority of the judgements given by the Permanent Court of Inter- national Justice has been concerned with so-called ‘pleas to the jurisdiction,’ i.e., with the refusal of one party, supported by a rigid and ingenious inter- pretation of relevant arbitration agreements, to accord to the other party the right, which Hobbes regarded as elementary even in a state of nature, of im- partial adjudication. This has b^n done, as a rule, not for the reason that an- other international agency was competent to decide the issue, but on the ground that the state in question was not bound by any commitment to have recourse to judicial settlement.” Professor Lauterpacht adds that “even when the elementary duty of submission to adjudication is accepted [that is, in a general agreement], it is in practice often attended by elaborate reservations which reduce it to a mere formula ckvoid of any legal cJbligation.” The OteiQ NAL Clause . It is obvious that under such circumstances it is hardly possible to speak of a general obligatmn on the part of states to submit disputes to judicial settlement in advance of their occurrence. The require- ment of a special agreement concerning the particular dispute to be adjudi- cated and tl^ qualification of the general agreement by reservations virtually produde compulsory litigation. T^ey allow a state to preserve its freedom of action in all stages of the preEminary proceedings if it so wishes. It was for the purpose ctf as^ynulating the into'natioaa! jiKEcial function, at lea^ with regard to certain classes of disputes^ to the strict ccrapulsion of domestic liti- that Article 3$ erf the Statt^ of tba^ Permanent Court of International Jostk^e Jhas created die $o-caBed “eternal ckuse.” This ingenious device is ^tcorpc^ed d^mge in Article 36 the Statute of the new Inter- IL T&r Fmcthn oj Law in Ote Internamnd Community (Oxford: TIic 4^- (Repinttsd by of ^ p«jl)lislier.) ( 221 ) Politics among Nations national Court of Justice. The provision gives the signatories of the Statute the opportunity to '‘rccogni2^ as compulsory ipso facto and without special agreement, in relation to any other state accepting the same obligation, the jurisdiction of the Court in all legal disputes.” Under the regime of the old 0)urt the clause was binding, at one time or another, for close to fifty states. Under the new Statute the number of signa- tories by the end of 1947 fell short of thirty. Very few states, however, have signed without reservations. It must be emphasized that Article 36 itself con- tains two reservations, one implicit, the other explicit, which qualify for all signatories the compulsory character of the jurisdiction of the court under the optional clause. By limiting compulsory jurisdiction to legal disputes, the statute excludes all disputes of a nonlegal character. Since this limitation is, as we shall scc,^® very difficult to define, it opens avenues of evasion for states intent on preserving their freedom of action. The other reservation is ex- plicitly one of reciprocity; compulsory jurisdiction is operative only if both parties to the dispute have accepted it. To these reservations which limit the jurisdiction of the Court for all signatories, the signatories have added numerous others, some of limited importance, others virtually nullifying the compulsory character of the juris- diction. Thus certain states have exempted territorial questions from the operation of the optional clause. A great number of others have exempted quemons which fall under the domestic jurisdiction of the state concerned. Others have made an exception of disputes for which the parties have agreed, or dhall agree, upon anodKir kind of settlement. A further exception has been made of disputes of which the underlying facts and situations arose befc^ the compulsory jurisdiction of the court became binding upon the states Concerned- Referring to the use of this last reservation by Great Britain, Professor Bricrly has said: ‘"It would be diflSlcult to devise a more indefinite formula; but one thing at ka^ is dear about it, that it most seriously limits the scope of cmr imdcrtaking.” ^ International dilutes are often protracted and the factual situations underlying many of th^ have a long history. This reser- vation is, tberefi^e, particularly liable to remove great numbers of disputes bom the operatimi trf the of^nal clause. The considerable number of states wludh have made use of several reservatkms cumutoivdy have reduced to a mmAmim the oon^mlsory character of the Court’s Jurisdiction under the optional dauscL Tlie Gtmrodmg influefioe of such reservations may completely eat amy the ooso^idsQiy jiuikiktion of the Court. The acceptance cf such ImisK&tion msf hoomm as it was so ohm in arbitration treaties con- dyded heSmt the Rrst Weald War, in the vswds of Professor Lauterpacht, “a mm lotmida detoid of any oWigation.*^ The daclaiation of tine linked Ststo of Ai^^ust 14, 1946^ accepting the cnmpiilaofy finrlae&sion of the hmatmmrnal Court of Justice is the protx^pe of an aooq)tW3e so wesiened hf fer-teaching reservations as to reduce the strkt oU^ation ^ the vani^hisg point. Aooc^ding to its teans: Sec bdow, pfju 341 0 , ^ ^ Tke Ijuv of Ntttwns Oflbsil Press, 1942), p. 2i6v ( 222 ) The Main Problems of International Law * , . this declaration shall not apply to a, disputes the solution of which the parties shall entrust to other tribunals by virme of agreements already in existence or which may be concluded in the future; or h, disputes with regard to matters which arc essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of the United States of America as d eterm ined by jtJbc United States of America; or c. disputes arising under a multilateral treaty, unless (i) all parties to the treaty affected by the decision are also parties to the case before the Cour^ or (2) the United States of America specially agrees to jurisdiction^ • While the reservation under a. is of minor importance, it is hard to visu- alize an international dispute which might not be interpreted so as to be cov- ered by either reservation b. or c. There are few matters liable to become the object of an international dispute on which the domestic jurisdiction of the countries concerned would not have some bearing. Does a trade agreement concluded between the United States and a foreign country remove the sub- jects which it regulates from the category of matters which are “essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of the United States”? What about interna- tional treaties concerning immigration, foreign loans, limitation of arma- ments? Matters thus dealt with by international law are surely no longer “exclusively” within the domestic jurisdiaion of the United States. But when do they cease to be “essentially” within that jurisdiction? Obviously, when the United States is no longer interested in preserving its freedom from judicial control with regard to such matters. Since what is and what is not “essen- tially” within the domestic jurisdiction of the United States is thus a matter of political opinion and since according to reservation b, the opinion of the United States will decide this issue without appeal, the United States will be able, if it so wishes, by virtue of reservation b. alone to exclude from the jurisdiction of the Court most disputes to which it might be a party. Even if the opinion of the United States in this respect were clearly arbitrary and without factual foundation, the terms of the declaration m^e the United States the final judge in the matter. Reservation c. takes care of whatever reservation b. might have left to the compulsory jurisdiction of the Court. In modem times many of the more important international treaties, especially in view of their bearing on inter- national politics, are multilateral, such as the Pan-American Treaties, the Charter of the United Nations, and the peace treaties terminating the Second World War. Considering the limited number of adherences to the optional clause and considering the possibilities of evasion with the aid of reservations, it is not likely that in the case of a dispute arising unefer such a treaty all the signatories of the treaty, numbering often more than a score or two of states, can simultaneously be made parties brfore the Court. The United States, then, is likely to retain its freedom of action in most cases where its acxeptance of the con^ulsory jurisdiction of the Coxirt with regard to multilateral treaties is involvicL Thu% in the end, the devek^ment of compulsory jurisdiction under the Documeat Uaitad States/Intematianal Coart of Justicc/5, Department of State BtMe^n, Vol. 15, No. 375 (Sep^b^ S, 1946), p. 452. ( 223 ) Politics among Nations optional clause reverts to where it started from : the preservation, in a large measure and for the most important disputes, of the freedom of action of states with regard to the jurisdiction of international courts. The legal instru- mentalities designed to preserve that freedom have become more refined under the regime of the optional clause. Instead of frankly exempting from adjudication the most important classes of disputes, they now serve primarily the purpose of smoothing over and concealing the contrast between verbal adherence to compulsory jurisdiction and actual unwillingness to accept it. It is, therefore, not surprising that the Permanent Court of International Justice has been in the main concerned, not with the limitation of the strug- gk for power on the international scene, but with the preliminary question whether the parties were at all under obligation to submit the case to the juris- diction of the Court. Only once did the Permanent Court of International Justice have to face squarely the problem of limiting a state’s aspirations for power. That was in the ease of the German-Austrian Customs Union, and there the jurisdiction of the Court was founded, not upon an agreement freely entered into by the parties, but upon Article 14 of the Covenant of the League ci Nations authorizing the Council of the L^gue to request advisory opin- ions from the Court It is also worthy of note that, although the community of nations has been rent apart by many disputes of different kinds, the Inter- national Court of Justice, organized in the spring of 1946, had still to hear and decide its first case two years later. AH theormcal and practical considerations point to the conclusion that the c^pckmal clause has kft the substance of the problem of compulsory jurisdic- tion where it fenind it In the field of adjudication only slightly less than in the field oi legislation, it is still the will of the states which is decisive in all stages of the proceedings. Hence, international adjudication is unable to impose rffectivc restraints upon the struggle for power on the international scene. Loose and an^gumis fcrmulations of the general duty to submit to litigation and, in paiticuiar, a great vari«y of indefinite and sweq>ing reservations pro- tot ail ^ates against the ri^ to have to submit any specific dispute to inter- national litigatkm against their wilL Hence, with regard at least to com- piisory juiisdktion over important disputes, the dec^tralization of the ludkiai fundiem an the intematbeal sph^ is compk^ barely disguised by fioimilae of i^al whidh, in turn, ai^e im&sscd meaningless by baenuii^e$id SiaoK ae ia acttviifes d ks $Qb- ffids Afc two laiier tocesscr, the im i ** P. C. L J. Sola < 224 ) cm . ' The Main Problems of International Lau/ Held of international law. Up to the establishment of the Permanent Court in 1920 judicial organization in the international sphere was completely de- centralized, That is to say, whenever two states agreed upon the judicial settlement of a specific dispute, they also agreed upon a particular person, * such as the Pope, a prince, a famous international lawyer, or a group of per- sons to function as a tribunal for the decision of this particular case. With the settlement of this dispute, the judicial function of this tribunal was auto- matically at an end. The judicial settlement of another dispute required the establishment of another tribunal. The Tribunal of Geneva which decided the Alabama case referred to above well illustrates this situation. The Hague Convention for the Pacific Settlement of International Dis- putes of 1899 and 1907 tried to overcome this decentralization of the judicial organization by cre ating th e so-called Permanent Court of ArbitratiojS.*Tbe latter consists only o? a paner^f~stmieif2o^ different signatories to the convention. From this panel the parties to a specific dispute can select the members of a tribunal to be constituted for the adjudication of this specific dispute. It might, therefore, well be said that thi?; institution is neither permanent nor a court. The so-called Court does not exist as a body; as such it does not fulfill judicial or any other functions. It is actually nothing more than a list of individuals “of recognized comj^ence in ques- tions of International Law, enjoying the highest moral reputation.” It facili- tates the selection of judges for one of the special tribunals to be organized for the adjudication of a specific dispute. The so-called Permanent Court of Arbi- tration has never decided a case; only individual members of the panel have. It perpetuates the decentralization of judicial organization in the international field, while at the same time recognizing in the pretense of its name the need for a centralized judicial authority. The main stumbling block for the establishment of a really permanent international court was the composition of the court. Nations were as anxious to preserve their freedom of action with respect to the selection of judges for each sf^cific case, as they have been anxious to preserve their freedom of action with regard to the submission of each specific dispute to adjudication. More particularly, nations were reluctant to allow a dispute to be decided by an international tribunal of which neither oii^ of their nationak nor a repre- sentative of their point of view was a member. No,j2gimaaeBt4fl^ court with jurisdiction over more than a l ^tol numher-of n ations c puld. meet^ the iurisdiction o uirement: d court would of neccssitv exceed the n Politics among Nations representatioD of the main forms of civilization and of the principal legal systems of the world diould be assured” (Article 19). The members of the 0>urt are nominated and elected through a number of ingenious devices designed to insure high professional standards as well as compliance with the requirement of Article 19 of the Statute. The nominadons are made by the mttnbers of the Permanent Court of Arbitration, organized into national groups, or by national groups appointed by their respective governments (Aitick» 4, 5, 6). The election is by absolute majority of the votes of the General A^mbly and the Security Council of the United Nations, each body voting independently of the other (Articles 8-12). Articles 31 of the Statute makes the additional concession of providing for special national judges who may be chosen by parties whose nationality is not represented among the numbers of the Court. This Court, a truly centralized judicial agency, fulfills through its very existence two important functions for the international community. On the_ . one hand, the Court, through being established in permanence and indi- pendcntly of any occurring disputes, is always avail^JeJfijtates which want . toaettic tbdr differ ences by means of adjndirgtijajt WhatevercBe fSay'sCffid in tlM way of a judiaal settlement of their disputes, the problems of estab- lishing a tribunal, selecting its members, providing for its procedure and sub- stantive law have been solved for them once and for all by the Statute of the Court The difficulties to which these pnJjlcms, to be solved anew for each individual case of adjudication, may have given rise before 1920 no longer stsmd in the way of effective administration of international justice. In rOTatinnal fVinrt of Justicc, whosc members are elected for a penod o^ _jji ne ye ars and ma y be re^ lmedrEtjiyidfii iii' i.lie~ p^orgg^m ^ItsytidiSiafra^This^fia^ 5 necessarily absent in a tribunal Convened for the settlement of a specific dispute and terminating its existence with the rendering of the judgment A court whose membership is bound to remain approximately identic^ for almost a decade and may easily remain identical much longer cannot fail to develop a tradition of its own which it transmits to its successive members and upon whose continuance the prospec- tive parties can idy. This ekatient of cakukbility and std>ility which is thus aBtroduoad mito tie operattiems c£ an intematioi^ tribunal is in sharp con- trast; the haphazard ptoorrdiH^ typical of the aibitratkin courts before the First Wndd War. h suntxAds the Comt with an atmo^shere a>nfidence vriadh h ummshims qtote aovd an the antstk of intieraatieml rdations. Tie ef Deddam It is tme dhat hi 90 hsr as this stability ai^ caieubbility go beyond mere mstttess of otgamratiop they sire die psychological result of a permanent or- ga n izati o B ntther dtaoi the effect of 1 ^^ cnactmeet ludeed^ ooncemir^ the Iraal effect of the joE&aal ptcaiaimciaiKats of die Ooort^ the Statute pays trSnite to the principle of deoaxtrafizatirai by fueviditig in Article 59 tW “the dodsion of the Court has no inncUng force except between the parties and in respea of that particular case.” Althcmgh the sodal fad; (ff tte oon- dninng operation of me »me persons within one arg^uzatkni is oqpdudve ( 226 ) The Main Problems of International haw to the development of uniformity and of a tradition in the jurisprudence of the Court, the latter is under no legal duty, as the Anglo-American courts are, to follow the rule oLstare decisis and to justify its decisions in the light of precedent. Nevertheless, because of the social pressure for uniformity dis- cussed above, the jurisprudence of the Court during the first two decades of its existence would hardly have been different even if the Court actually had been bound by the rule of stare decisis^ Nevertheless, the Court was and re- mains free to disregard its previous decisions should it so choose, and situa- tions may arise where a court bound by the rule of stare . decisis would hesi- tate to disregard its previous decisions, while the International Court of Justice might not. This element of uncertainty within the jurisprudence of the International Court of Justice itself is, however, small in comparison with the one which, by virtue of Article 59 of the Statute, affects the relations between the juris- prudence of the Court and the many and heterogeneous other judicial agencies operating in the international field. The strength of the national systems of adjudication as a means of putting effective restraints upon the actions of the individual citizens derives in large part from the hierarchical nature of that system. Whatever act the individual citizen may perform, a court stands ready to say whether or not the act meets the requirements of the law. When these courts have spoken, a higher court can be appealed to in order to approve or disapprove the decision of the lower court. And, finally, a supreme court wiE state with ultimate authority the law in the case. Since all these courts operate under the rule of stare decisis, their decisions are logically consistent with each other not only within the same court, but also within the whole system of courts. The hierarchical character of their relations guarantees the uniformity of the decisions throughout the system.^® The combination of hierarchical organization and of the rule of stare decisis, then, produces one system of jurisprudence throughout the judicial system, one body of coherent law ever ready to go into action at the rajucst of whoever claims to need the protection of the law. Nothing in the international sphere even remotely resembles this situation. The International Court of Justice is the one court which has potentiaUy world-wide jurisdiction. But the multitude of other courts, created by specid treaties for particular parties, for special types of disputes, or for specific sin- gle cases, have no legal connection at aU either with each other or with the International Court of Justice. The International Court of Justice is in no sense a supreme court of the world which might decide, with final authority, appeals from the decisions of other international tribunals. It is but one inter- national court among many others, outstanding through the permanency of ^ Tbi$ h tree oj5|y ircement actkms of ks mm- Only uadhr Wf wcpticmal mi mmm oonefitions, in the forms of selfkc^ axid sdlE-defezise, dte iomesiic law give the vkAn of a vhdatioii of Ae hrw ^ ri^ to yb the kw Msown ha^A and hme k against the violaipt, WW is a Bmmmif ciicmscribed ezemiim m dc^z^stk law is Ae pdndj^ of in kw. Ac- « Tkff Lam of ^ Ojc&wid.) ( 228 ) The Main Problems of International haw cording to this principle, the victim, and nobody but the victim, of a violation of the law has the right to enforce the law against the violator. Nobody at all has the obligation to enforce it. There can be no more primitive and no weaker system of law enforcement than this; for it delivers the enforcement of the law to the vicissitudes of the distribution of power between the violator of the law and the victim of the violation. It puts a premium upon the violation of the law as well as upon the enforcement of the law by the strong and, consequently, puts the rights of the weak in jeopardy. A great power can violate the rights of a small nation without having to fear effective sanctions on the latter’s part. It can afford to proceed against the small nation with measures of enforcement under the pretext of a violation of its rights, regardless of whether the alleged infraction of international law has actually occurred or whether it justifies the measures taken. The small nation must look for the protection of its rights to the assistance of powerful friends which can marshal superior power in order to oppose an attempt at infringement with a chance of success. Whether such assistance vrill be forthcoming is not a matter of international law, but of the national interest as conceived by the individual nations which must decide whether or not to come to the support of the weak member of the international com- munity. In other words, whether or not an attempt will be made to enforce international law and whether or not the attempt will be successful do not depend primarily upon legal considerations and the disinterested operation of law-enforcing mechanisms. Both attempt and success depend upon politi- cal considerations and the actual distribution of power in a particular case. The protection of the rights of a weak nation, threatened by a strong one, is then determined by the balance of power as it operates in that particular sit- uation. Thus the rights of Belgium were safeguarded in 1914 against their violation by Germany, for it so happened that the protection of those rights seemed to be required by the national interests of powerful neighbors. On the other hand, the rights of Colombia, when the United States supported the revolution in 1903 which led to the establishment of the Republic of Panama, and the rights of Finland, when attacked by the Soviet Union in 193^ were violated either with impunity or, as in the case of Finland, without the intervention of effective sanctions. There was no balance of power which could have protected these nations. It mtist be pointed out, however, that the actual situation is much less dismal than the foregcang analysis mi^t sugge^ The great majority of the rules of international law arc generally obs^ed by all states without actual cmnpulsion, for it is g^eraliy in the mtere^ of all states concerned to honor thdr obligations under intemational law- A state wiB hesitate to infringe itpon the rights of foreign dipk^nats resitfing in its capital; for it has an inter- est, d aff states, in the universal observance d rufe ci i^J^ationai few vduA extend their protection to its own d%3binMc in fordi^ captah as wdl as to the foreign diplo- ma in diptt A state will likewise be reluctant to disregard its spec the b^jefits which it expects from CGiltracting pautks are complementary to those ' ( 229 ) Politics among Nations anticipated by the latter. It may thus stand to lose more than it would gain by not fuljfilling its part of the bargain. This is particularly so in the long run, since a state which has the reputation of reneging on its commercial obli- gations will find it hard to conclude commercial treaties beneficial to itself. Most rules of international law formulate in legal terms such identical or complementary interests. It is for this reason that they generally enforce themselves, as it were, and that there is generally no need for a specific en- forcement action. In most cases in which such rules of international law are aaually violated despite the underlying community of interests, satisfaction is given to the wronged party cither voluntarily or in consequence of adjudi- cation« And it is worthy of note that of the thousands of such judicial de- cisions which have been rendered in the last century and a half, voluntary execution was refused by the losing party in fewer than ten cases. Thus the great majority of rules of international law are generally unaf- fcaed by the weakness of its system of enforcement, for voluntary compliance prevents the problem of enforcement from arising altogether. The prob- lem of enforcement becomes acute, however, in that minority of important and generally spectacular cases, particularly important in the context of our dis- cussion, in which compliance with international law and its enforcement have a dirca bearing upon the relative power of the nations concerned. In those cases, as we have seen, considerations of power rather than of law determine compliance and enforcement Two attempts have been made to remedy this situation and to give the executive function in international law at least a semblance of objeoivity and centralization. Both attempts have failed, and for the same reason. One attempt, in the form of international guarantee, can be traced to the beginning of the modern state system; the other, collective security, was fir^ undertaken by the Covenant of the League of Nations. B) Treahes of Guaranty Tau^ by sad e^qicrienoe that tl^ sacred and inviolable duty of fidelity to treaties is not always a safe assturaixe that they will be observed, men have sou^it to obtain securities against perfidy, means for enforcing observance inde- pendendy of the good 6dth of the contracting parties. A guaranty is one of these mcam. When those who condude a cS peace, or any other treaty, are not afeoDtodly o o t^den t of its observsuaoe they ask to have it guaranteed by a power- ful soveragn. The pmmmrpmmses to uphdd the terms of Ae treaty and to piocmt Adr dhservanot. As he saay find himsdf ob%)d to use force, if d Aer of ^ paities Aoold try m smM Ae fiulfflhneat of its preanises, Ae posiiioii of g n a oMit oc is one wfeieh no sovene^^ wil! B^htly or without good Princes sdkiom do so usicss Aey have an iodTrftrt Jxi t he tAsesrwiaae of Ao or am mdiiced ^ This statcia^ by V«cl defines weD Ac modm and the W content of treaties guaranty wd does not fail to aQirfe to prd^ematical nature as sub^tutes for a truly ceatrafizied organization of international law en- forocnaent. de Vatid, TAr of 1916), Wk H, 1 235, IK. 193* * ^ ( 230 ) The Main Problems of International Law The simplest type of a treaty of guaranty is exemplified by what is gen- erally considered to be the earliest such treaty in modern history: the Treaty of Blois of 1505 between France and Aragon, guaranteed by England- This guaranty signified that England took upon itself the legal obligation to per- form the task of the policeman with regard to the execution of this treaty, promising to see that both parties remained faithful to it- A more advanced type of international guaranty is to be found, for in- stance, in the guaranty of the territorial integrity of Turkey by the signatories of the Treaty of Paris of 1856 and of the Treaty of Berlin of 1878, and in the guaranty of the neutrality of Belgium and Luxembourg by the signatories of the treaties of 1831 and 1839, and 1867, respectively. In the Treaty of Mutual Guarantee of October 16, 1925, which forms part of the so-called Locarno Pact, Great Britain, Belgium, France, Germany, and Italy “collectively and severally guarantee . . . the maintenance of the status quo resulting from the frontiers between Germany and Belgium, and between Germany and France, and the inviolability of the said frontiers.” In this type of treaty of guaranty not one but a group of nations, generally most, if not all of the great powers, pledge themselves, either severally or collectively, to enforce the legal pro- visions which they have guaranteed against whomever tries to infringe upon them. In order to be able to fulfill their function as a substitute for centralized executive agencies, both types of treaties must meet two prerequisites: they must be effective in their execution, and the execution must be automatic. The effectiveness of the execution, however, is again a function of the balance of power, that is to say, it depends upon the distribution of power between the guarantor nations and the lawbreaker. The distribution of power may favor the guarantor nations, especially in the case of collective guaranty, but not necessarily so. Particularly under modern conditions of warfare, situations can easily be visualized in which one lawbreaking great power will be able to withstand the united pressure of a great number of law-abiding guarantor nations. Yet it is the uncertainty in applying the guaranty which vitiates its effec- tiveness altogether. The authoritative textbook of international law has aptly pointed to the many loopholes through which a guarantor is able to evade the execution of the treaty without violating it We read in Oppenheim-Lau- terpacht: But the duty of the guarantors to render • . • tl^ prcMcnised assistance to the guaranteed State depends upon many cooditbns and circumstances. Thus, first, the guaranteed State must request the guarantor to render assistance. Thus, sec- ondly, the guarantor must at the ciitlcal time be able to render the required assistaiKC. "Wl^n, for instance, its bands are tied through waging war against a third State, or when it is so weak throng internal trouHes, or other factors, that its interference would expose it to a ^rious danger, it is not bound to fulfil the request lor assfetance. So too, when the guaranteed State has not complied with previous advice given by the guarantor as to the line of its behaviour, it is not the guarantor's duty to render assistance afterwards.^ ^ i, S70-1. (Eepnbted permisaon of Longmans, Green & Co., Inc.) ( 231 ) Politics among Nations In other words, the obligation to guarantee compliance with international law through enforcement actions is no more stringent — and, if possible, rather less so — than the cAIigation to submit disputes to adjudication by an international court. In both cases the obligation is rendered virtually valueless by qualifications, reservations, and exceptions, covering all possible contin- gencies- Treaties of guaranty leave the executive function in the international fkid for all practical purposes as decentralized as it would be without them- ed CcMectwe Security CJollectivc security is the most far-reaching attempt on record to overcome the deficiencies of a completely decentralized system of law enforcement- Whilc traditional international law leaves the enforcement of its rules to the injured state, collective security envisages the enforcement of the rules of international law by all the members of the community of nations, whether or not they have suffered injury in the particular case. The prospective law- breaker, then, must always expect to face a common front of all nations, automatically taking collective action in defense of international law* As an ideal, collective security is without flaw; it presents indeed the ideal solution of the problem of law enforcement in a community of sovereign states. How- ever, the two attempts which have been made to put the idea of collective security into practice — Article i6 of the Covenant of the League of Nations and Cha|:^ VII of the Charter of the United Nations — fall far short of the ideal. In turn, the actual practice of the members of these two organizations has fallen far short of the collective measures authorized by those two documents. AincLE i6 OF THE COVENANT OF THE Ijsague OF Nations. While the Covenant of the League of Nations today has only historic interest, the first three paragraphs of its Article i6 remain the pioneering attempt at putting a system of collective security into effect and, furtl^rmore, tl^ only one which thus far actually has been put into effect. The system collective security provided for in these three jaragrajAs is from the outset limited to one type ^ cl tbe Cowttiit cl ihe League ol resM&: I. SIkmiIM aof Member d dae LeaifiK re aoct wax kt teeg pd of its covenants under xa, x$ or 15, k sfeadt be deeeaod m love oataam k aod an act of war against Ml dher Md^bers d die Leagtse, wMdb hettbf tindertalee kntnec&ttely to subiect it to die a gveyanoe d Ml txaMe or liiiaiidM idadons, die peokSMm d aS intercourse between their na- 1^ die inMonds d the €Kweam 4 w 6 MciQg State, and ^ inrevaidon d all Enandal, c c u mm a ^ m peemmi ioaeieQum bet w e e n ibe naiooak d iie State and the m i mmh d mf 0^ wbetber a Member d ibe Leagne or aoc. m such case m feqommcnd to the sevesrM < 5 ovcmnjcnts tawnwndl dfadSae laikBiv, navM or «xr ioroe the Members d the League Mall sevoMly oonttibnie 0^ the isoaea the oovenants d the Leag^ the hn aa idi i OOW omfe whkh wskm thk hi order to nnnmiise the kws mod m m uimkmm iwMng hnesi die measmm M to nmmlly \ anypport one anodber ha n s s fad w g ossis typothd mmasm dmoi m d dwk «nber ,bf the jconFenant 4 »ealctag $la«e, wd rte,.dbe $»oosmtf diord, thek temeoev Oo the loroes d d die Mergers d tie tea^ winch iate to pro- i text the covenants d the Lengne, . . : 4, Any Mcfder d die League vdiach hm ^olascd mf covenant d the #t‘ dared to be no longer a Meidier d the Leagm % a vooe d fc ComS Hepresentataves d aU the other Members d ^ League ngaesaand ' ( 232 ) The Main Problems of International haw of violation of international law, that is, resort to war in violation of the provisions for the peaceful settlement of international disputes laid down in Articles 12, 13, and 15 of the Covenant.*® For all other violations of inter- 30 Articles 12, 13, and 15 read: Article 12 1. The Members of the Lea^e agree that if there should arise between them any dispute likely to lead to a rupture they will submit the matter cither to arbitration or judicial settlement or to enquiry by the Council, and they agree in no case to resort to war until three months after the award by the arbitrators or the judicial decision or the report by the Council. 2. In any case under this Article the award of the arbitrators or the judicial decision shall be made within a reasonable time, and the report of the Council shall be made within six months after the submission of the dispute. Article /j 1. The Members of the League agree that whenever any dispute shall arise between them which they recognise to be suitable for submission to arbitration or judicial settlement, and which cannot be satisfactorily settled by diplomacy, they will submit the whole subject-matter to arbitration or judicial settlement. 2. Disputes as to the interpretation of a treaty, as to any question of international law, as to the existence of any fact which, if established, would constitute a breach of any international obligation, or as to the extent and nature of the reparation to be made for any such breach, are declared to be among those which are generally suitable for submission to arbitration or judicial settlement. 3. For the consideration of any such dispute, the court to which the case is referred shall be the Permanent Court of International Justice, established in accordance with Article 14, or any tribunal agreed on by the parties to the dispute or stipulated in any convention existing between them. 4. The Members of the League agree that they will carry out in full good faith any award or decision that may be rendered, and that they will not resort to war against a Member of the League which complies therewith. In the event of any &ilure to carry out such an award or decision, the Council shall propose what steps should be taken to give effect thereto. Article zy 1. If there should arise between Members of the League any dispute likely to lead to a rupture, which is not submitted to arbitration or judicial settlement in accordance with Article 13, the Members of the League agree that they will submit the matter to the Council. Any party to the disfwite may effect such submission by giving notice of the existence oi the dispute to the Secretary-General, who will make all necessary arrangements for a full investigation and con- sideration thereof. 2. For this fmrpose, the parties to the dispute will communicate to the Secretary-General, as promptly as possible, statements of their case with all the relevant facts an d papers, and the Cotinoi may forthwith direct the publication thereof. 3. The Council shall endeavor to effect a settiement of the dispute, and if such efforts arc successful, a statcnicnt shall be made public giving such focts and explanations r^arding the d^Kite and the terms of settlement thereof as the Council may deem appropriate. 4. If the dispute is not thus settled, the Council cither unanimously or by a majority vote sbafi make and public a repc^ containing a statement of the facts of the di^te and the ^ectommendations which are deemed just and proper in regard thereto. 5. I^fomber of the League repre^fe^ on die Council may make public a statement of the ibecs of the dispute and of its condusions r^arding die same. 6^ If a report by die Council Is utuinimous^ agr^ to by the members thereof other than the Eepresentatives ^ one oc naore the parties to die dis^te;, die Members of the League a^pree that they not go to was^ widi party to the which compiks with the recQmniendatiions of the report. 7* If the OmmM fails to reach a report vthach is naattimouisly ^^rced to by the memhers thcre^ other Representatives one or of dsc parties to the ci^^ute, the Members of dto Leafito reserve to di^nsdves the to take such action as they shall oonskier necessary lor the maanw^oe of at^I jnstioe. „ ^ M the; dispfpto between the parties is claiiitod by one (£ them, and is found by die to pf a matter which by mwatkiial law is soldy within the dcancstic juris- < 3 i tp 3 iat so report, and shah make no recommendation as to its case tins Artide refer the di^te to the Assembly. The 5:^ si/fc request of party to the di^tc provided that such request suhatissfeto of die dispute to dto Council. ( 233 ) Politics among Nations national law only the individualized, decentralized system o£ enforcement provided for by general international law is available. The violations of international law which put the first three paragraphs of Article i6 into operation create the following four legal effects: (i) The law- breaking state “is deemed to have committed an act of war against all other members of the League.” (2) The latter are under the legal obligation to isolate the lawbrcaking state, through a complete boycott, from any kind of intercourse with any other member of the conamunity of nations. (3) The Council of the League is under the legal obligation to recommend to the member states the military contribution to be made by them for the defense of the violated provisions of the Covenant. (4) The members of the League arc under the legal obligation to give each other all economic and military assistance in the execution of the collective action. While the literal text of these provisions seems to create automatic obli- gations of a collective character with respect to points (i), (2), and (4), it limits itself with regard to point (3), which obviously is the most imj^rtant, to a recommendation which, as such, the member states must be free either to accept or to reject at their discretion. Yet the appearances of points (i), (2), and (4) arc deceptive. The interpretative Resolutions, accepted by the As- sembly of the League in 1921 and generally considered to be authoritative in fact, if not in law, have virtually eliminated the compulsory and automatic elements of Article 16 and have reduced the apparent obligations of the text to mere recommendations supported by nothing but the moral authority of the Coundl of the Lcagi^.®^ lo. In any case referred to djc Assembly, all die provisions of this Article and of Article 12 rdatki^ the action and powers of die Council shall apply to the action and powers of the Assembly, provided that a report made by the Assembly, if concurred in by the Representatives of those Members of the League represented on die Council and of a majority of the other Mendxn ol die League, exclusive in each case of the Representatives of the parties to the disimte, shall have the same force as a report by the Council concurred in by all the members thereof other than dke Representatives of one or more of the parties to the dispute. The relevant Resohitioos read as fcdbws: 5. The uniiatera! action of die defaulting State cannot create a state of war: it merely entitles the ocher Members of the League lo resort m acts of war or to dodare th^nadves in a state of war whh the a3veQa!3t>breahsEig Stc^; but k is in aaoofdanoe with the ^pkk of the Covenant that die League nl Natioiis shuold at least at the outset, to avoid war, and to restore hif eoouoiiQC f a raisiHsc . 4L It » die ai fsmh Siemhies* ul ^ hcagm to decide im itself whedK^r a breach of the Cswewt has hem onomakted. Ihe df diaties awder Article 16 is required &om Ma a fe iC B t ei die League by die q qum mme ol the Ctweojmt, and they cazmot neglect them wkheut biwh of Treaty obigatioua. % M Smm mst 1^ tMed alite as zugsds &e d the measures of economic jk mgy he t mx a m f m itoustmead the eaaeoudoft of spod^ measures by certain states: ) If k is des ir^ %o possqsooe, v^oQy or partklly, in the case of certain States, die f&omm aifhmtibn ei die eomomk s»ms^ms kid davm m Article i 5 , swda postponement me he pam Sm d . in so kr as it h desk^^e for tikes success <1 theepmmon of action, or rejaoee m m mm e mem the losees and embarrassnaoils w^ch may he entaka! in the case of certain Members of ^ hastgm by the apsdkation of the mxmm. to. It h M poss^sie m decide be&nehancl, and in detaS, the various measures ol an eco- nckmic, ooiziinercs^ and tinaaraal nature to he t^en in each case where econontic pr^stir^ is to be ai^kd. When tike cam arkes, the Caunci ^sdl leemmeaad to the Meml>ers of die heagoe a plan !<»' ioint action. XI. The ineemiption of c^omatic rdatioos may, in ike tirst pkee, he m ihe with- drawal of the heads d Mkdoas. 12. CtHisuiar rdations may poss^y be mstesdned. ( 234 ) The Main Problems of International haw First of all, the Resolutions, in contrast to the apparent purport of Article i6, establish the individualized, decentralized character of the League sanc- tions by declaring it to be the duty of each individual member state to decide for itself whether a violation of international law has been committed and whether, therefore. Article i6 ought to apply at all. Furthermore, as inter- preted by the Resolutions point (i) authorizes the members of the League to resort to war with the lawbreaking state, but does not create, as the literal meaning would indicate, a legal obligation in this respect. As regards points (2) and (4), the Resolutions leave to the individual states the decision as to what measures they want to take against the lawbreaker and in support of each other. The Council acts as a mere co-ordinating agency with the power to make recommendations as to what measures ought to be taken, at what time, and by what states, but without authority to bind the individual mem- bers against their will. In sum, while the obligation to take action under Article 16 remains de- centralized, the actions decided upon by the individual states are to be exe- cuted under the centralized direction of the Council of the League. The Reso- lutions take a forward step in centralizing the technique of enforcement action decided upon by a number of individual states. But, with respect to the compulsory and automatic character of the enforcement action, they fulfill the same fimction which reservations perform for compulsory adjudication and which exceptions and qualifications perform for treaties of guaranty — they reduce to the vanishing point the compulsory character of what pur- ports to be a legal obligation. The reformulation of Article 16 by the Assembly Resolutions amoxints to the reaflSirmation of the decentralized character of law enforcement. The prac- tice of the League of Nations demonstrates the reluctance of the member states to avail themselves even of the limited opportunities for the cen- tralized execution of sanctions which the reformulated Article 16 offers. Article 16 was applied in only one of the five cases in which undoubtedly a number of the League resorted to war in violation of the Covenant. With regard to the Sino-Japanese conflict which started in 1931, the Assembly of the League of Nations found unanimously that ‘^without any declaration of war, part of the Chinese territory has been forcibly seized and occupied by the Japanese troops,”®^ and that far-flung hostilities, initiated by Japan, had taken place between troops of the Chinese and Japanese governments. Yet the Assembly 13. For tile poiposcs o£ tJie scvenmcc of rdatioes betweea persons b^otoging to the covenant- bteakiiig Stale parsons belonging to otber Stated K^embciis of die Lea g ue, the test shall be residence and not nationality. 14. In cases of proloiiged ai^ilication of economic pressme, measures of inare a d ng stringency may be The cutting off of the food su|4>^es of the civil population of^ the defaulting State shall be regarded as an extremely drastic me^ure which shall cHily be applied if the odier measures available are clearly inadeqpate. 15. Correspondence all omer methods of communicatioD. shall be subjected to special itguladom. 16. Humanitarian rclatkms shall be contiimed. Fat thfif tcxi^ see League of Hauons O^dd Joumd^ Special Suppianent No. 6 (Ociob^ pp. 24 ff. ^ “Les^uc of Nations AssemWy Repewt ng the permanent members of the Security Council and, hence, cannot make centralized enforcement measures impossible through the veto. Such measures, if they apply at all, apply only to small and medium powers. Yet, in view of the veto of the great powers, they will apply even to the small and medium powers only under rare and extraordinary circum- ^ances. As international politics is constituted today, most of the small and medium powers are intimately aligned with one or the other of the great powers which dominate the intcmsUiDnal scene. They are very unlikely to oosnixtit a breach Ml ^e^aMty any future change in the power tb Whenever, on the other tsm ot'wmm ( 240 ) The Main Problems of International Law engaged in the competition for power and, hence, when such enforcement measures will have a direct bearing upon their power positions, the unan- imous consent of the permanent members will be impossible to obtain. By consenting to enforcement measures, at least one permanent member will weaken its own power position by weakening that of its friend and ally, that is, the prospective victim of enforcement measures. That permanent member would have to take a stand against what it considers its own na- tional interest. Such an eventuality must, of course, be discounted. Under any circumstances, putting into operation the centralized enforcement measures of Chapter VII depends upon the discretion of the permanent members of the Security Council, acting as individuals. The centralization of law enforce- ment, in large measxire achieved by Chapter VII, is, therefore, largely nulli- fied by Article 27, paragraph 3. Finally, the veto eliminates for all practical purposes the qualifications by which Article 51 endeavors to subordinate the right of collective self-defense to the centralized enforcement system of Chapter VIL For it is hard to en- visage a case of collective resistance to aggression by a number of nations in which not at least one of the permanent members of the Security Council is involved on one or the other side. Under such circumstances, however, the requirement of unanimity of the permanent members according to Article 27, paragraph 3, either prevents the Security Council from taking any action, in which case the decentralized measures of self-defense will prevail as though the United Nations did not exist, or else vouchsafes the approval by the Security Council of the decentralized measures taken. In either case, the threat or the actuality of the veto will make it impossible for the Security Council to take centralized enforcement measures independendy in the pres- ence of decentralized measures already taken. The picture which the Charter of the United Nations presents to us is, therefore, different from common international law only in its legal poten- tialities, hardly to be realized under present world conditions, but nrinces over the universal authc»rity of emperor and pop^ on the one hand, and over the partkidaristic aspirations of the feudal barons, cm the other. The inhabitant of France found that nobody but the royal power could give him orders and enforce thmu This experience vgr<^lgr^fy., p^intmg fp a paitidifar asped of sovereignty. If afr states have supreme authority within iBar t emtories, nohel^ be si:^rdm at^ inihe exSSse of that No :^e has thcTipit, in the ^fiscncc of treaty obligations to the ODutrary, to tell any other state what laws it should enact and enforce, let alone to enact and enforoe them on the latter^s territory. Being sovereign, stales can iiave no lawgiving or law-cn&ming power sbmc them operating m their territory. Internaltonal law h a law arnemg co-ordinated, not ^iborobated entities. Siasm are sribordinated to intematicmal law, but not to each odbor; that is to tfcgr aaie When^ Arridc a of the Chsuter d the United Cteganization is based on the priiK:^df dteaoTCre%neqis^fitydE^iteiiten^iei^ language k d soverdignty and its kgical osioibry, TO princif^ Fwm the priae%ie of ex^iafity a femdanidital sA of iTOmadonal law is derived whidh is leqponsiMe ior the dooentea&^ipn of the kgisl^Ssei^d, in a certain measore, d the law^enf^ribpg the rule rignifi^Aat with te fa nace to ftjnct ’ YmmmAfy ikt vote of jniraring-aew^ ( 246 ) Sovereignty as much as the v^e of the United States, and the votc?i^pf both arc required to makelrtieliew r ules of internatTonaTraw’Hnding for bothf Were it other- wise, a large and poweffuFstate might bc-abkrto 0^ its actual preponderance in representation to impose legal obligations upon a weak and small state without the latter’s consent. The powerful state would thus make its own authority supreme within the territory of the small state, destroying the lat- ter’s sovereignty. Under all circumstances, the rule of unanimity gives each state participating in the deliberations the right to decide for itself whether it wants to be bound by the decision. Whenever the consent of all participating states is required in order to give legal validity to the decision, each state has a right to veto the decision altogether by voting against the d^sion or with- holding its consent. The veto, then, in contrast to the strict rule of unanimity, has the effect of not only freeing the dissenting state from any legal obligation under the de- cision, but of stopping the lawgiving or law-enforcing process altogether. While the rule of unanimity is a logical consequence of sovereignty, this can- not be said of the veto. The rule of unanimity declares: Without my consent your decision does not bind me. The veto declares: Without my consent there is no decision at all. The veto, in other words, confronts the states participating in the deliberations with the alternative of cither agreeing upon a collective decision adhered to by all, or of having no decision at all. As concerns this dual fimction, at once destructive and creative, the veto is more than a mere manifestation of sovereignty. Of this more is to be said later.^ 3. WHAT SOVEREIGNTY IS NOT After having learned what sovereignty is, we may now turn to the discus- sion of what sovereign ty is not but is often b elieved to be. 3L ^vereignty iOni J S^dom f r^iSgal restrau^ The quantity of legal obli^tions bjTwhicli the state limits its treedSm bfluadon does not as siiii affect its sovereignty. The often-heard arguriKint that a certain treaty would impose upon a country obligations so onerous as to destroy its sovereignty is, therefore, meaningless. It is not the quantity of kgal restraints which affects sovereignty, but their quality. A state can take upon itself any quantity of legal r^traints and still remain sovereign, provided thotse kgal restraints do not affect its quality as the supreme lawgiving and law-enforcing authority. But one single kgal stipulation afferting that amlHarity is in itself sufficient to destroy the ^vereignty <£ the state. Heixe, whatever the merits and demerits of the United States’ joining the I^gue of Nations and the Permanent Court of International Justice may have siiK^e these sleps could not have af- fected the supreme airifcority of the United States within its territory, they had n<^hingto xfc with die sovereignty of the United States. 2. Sovereignt y is not freedom from r^fulation by international law oi all those matters wMcfa are tracStimiahy lett t o the stams or, as Ardck 15, paragraph ^ ol the Covenant of the League of Na- ^ 1 See l)dow^ XXV, XXVIS. (247) Politics among Nations tions * and Ardcie 2, paragraph 7, of the Charter of the United Nations put it, arc within the (kimesdc jurisdicdon of the individual states. The reladon between the matters which internadonal law regulates and those with which it does not concern itself is fluid. It depends upon the policies pursued by indi- vidual states and upon the development of internadonal law. It is, therefore, misleading to assert, for instance, that the international regulation of the immigration policies of individual states would be incompatible with their sovendgnty. 'Hiis would hold true only for international relations to which the countries concerned had not tansented beforehand. The conclusion of international treaties concerning matters of immigration would not affect the sovereignty of the contracting states. 3. &vereignty is not equity of rights and oWigations un ^ internationa l , law. Great inequalities in these respects can go hand in hand~witirsovereignty. Peace treaties frequently impose heavy disabilities upon the vanquished with regard to size and quality of the military establishment, armaments, fortifica- tions, reparations, economic policies, and the conduct of foreign affairs in general. The defeated nation is not hereby deprived of its sovereignty. Ger- many, Austria, Hungary, and Bulgaria remained sovereign states despite the omi-sided legal obligations with which the peace treaties of 1919 burdened them. The same peace treaties singled out certain of the victorious states, such as Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Rumania, for special obligations concerning the treatment trf certain racial and religious minorities among their own sub- jects. Rumania, together with Bulgaria, Montenegro, and Serbia, was sub- jected to such international obligations by the very treaty which in 1878 recog- nized it as a sovereign nation. Freqittntly nations, having to comply with I^gal obligations of which rther nations were free, have invoked the principles (rf sovereignty and equality in order to justify their demands for removal of those legal burdens. In siKh cases, the issue has always been one of revision of treaties, but not at all of sovereignty. 4. SowieigntyJs nr# artiwl indpppndfnrj in p olitical milita rv.reCQnQmic. or lecfmhlfiigical matTers. The actual interdependeuKC of states in those matters and the actual p^ltibadr^dhtary, and economic depen^noe of certain states others may make it di£&^ or impo^hle for oertain saams to pursue » aot ^eiehf ategitoi T^ > upoa-aaiji .«i&erw»r an . db B imas -. fey'ate. l^toamaisaswiietQ^as^ — its poficies imd hmtsiria sovemgnty. mdiiechote^ ' Bar the «aifc safe ( 2 ^ ) Sovereignty 4. HOW SOVEREIGNTY IS LOST Under what conditions, then, does a state lose its sovereignty? What rules o£ international law and what kinds of international institutions created by them are actually incompatible with sovereignty? Where is the line to be drawn between legal and actual inequalities which leave sovereignty intact and that impairment of a state’s authority which destroys its independence? In theoretical terms, the answer to these questions presents no difficulty. Since sovereignty is the supreme legal authority of the state to give and en- force the law within a certain territory and, in consequence, independence from the authority of any other state and equality with it under international law, the state loses its sovereignty when it is placed under the authority of another state, so that it is the latter which exercises supreme authority to give and enforce the laws within the former’s territory. Sovereignty can thus be lost in two different ways. A state may take upon itself legal obligations which give another state final authority over its lawgiving and law-enforcing activities. State A will lose its sovereignty by conceding to State B the right to veto any piece of legis- lation enacted by its own constitutional authorities or any act of law enforce- ment to be performed by its own executive agencies. In this case, the govern- ment of A remains the only lawgiving and kw-enforcing authority actually functioning within the territory of A, but it is no longer supreme, since it is, in turn, subject to the control of the government of B. Through the exercise of that control, the government of B becomes the supreme authority and, hence, sovereign within the territory of A. The other way in which sovereignty can be lost consists in the loss of what we have called the "‘impenetrability” of a state’s territory. Here the govern- ment of A is superseded as the lawgiving and kw-enforcing authority by the government of B which, through its own agents, performs the kwgiving and kw-enforcing functions within the territory of A. The government of A^ having lost authority altogether within the territory cf A, survives in name and in appearances only, while the actual functions of government are per- formed by the agents of B. Great difficulties, however, beset the application erf thc^ abstraa standards to actual situations and concrete issues* At the root of the perpkxitics which attend the problem of the loss erf sovereignty there is the divorce, in contempo- rary fegal and political theory, of the C€HKe{«: of sovereignty from the political le^ty . ^ whkii the of sovereignty is siq^posed to give l^al ex- Today, m less than it was in the sixteenth century, sover^^fy polnis to a. pol^kal fact That k the exigence cf a person or who^t wkhin the fonts rrfa given territory, are more power- fui fom any o^ gjm%^ of persons and whose power, in- in that is, he was sovereign, within his territory not as a matter of theoretical speculation or legal interpretation, but as a political fact. He was more powerful than pope and emperor, on the one hand, and the feudal barons, on the other, and, therefore, he was able to give and enforce laws without interference from cither. Similarly, the federal government is today sovereign within the territory o£ the United States; for there is no supranational authority which could challenge its power nor arc there sectional or functional authorities within its territory which could think of doing so. This sovereignty, no less than the sovereignty of the French monarchy in the sixteenth century, is the result of the actual distribution of power in the state. It is, therefore, primarily the result of the Union’s victory over the Confederacy in the Civil War. If the supreme authority of the federal government within the territory of the United States were to be whittled down by political or economic organiza- tions strong enough to legislate for themselves and enforce their laws without effective control on the part of the federal government, a situation might arise similar to the one which confronted the emperor when at the end of the Middle Ages the territorial states substituted their own supreme authority for his. The United States would then split into a number of territorial or func- tional units which would be actually sovereign although the federal govern- ment might still for a time, just like the emperor, retain the legal attributes and the premgc of the sovereign power. Four conciusioas follow from the preceding discussion: t.^The location of sovereignty depends up on a dual tes ti, (a) in what rcr^ roll ed by another gover n- government oi meat? ^py ernm e n t actually performs governmental tunct ions within the ferritpiy,i£ihe sratri. au The location of sovereignty is a matter of political judgment as well as \of legal interpretation.® j 3. The location of sovereignty may be in temporary suspense if the actual yiis^bution of power within a territory remains unsettled. jf. Sovereignty over tl^ same territory cannot reside simultaneously in two at^hmtks; that is, sova^eignty is indivisible- r analysis, in the light of these four conclusions, of a number of histori- ^ sitiiaiims pcioride a teat £c^ the usefulness of the ncept of sov- view of the ^i4in|K^tant question as to with scmiorignty, and which ! leteicHis be- tween the IndKan sMes and Giesai weve i treaties. While treaties gave to Grm INtaih the in them of thdr femgn aonilhi Ajthmi^ mos^ of these govev!^^)raent<4^i^^'‘' * iriic ’valbe dE libc status of camu^ksf sadt as penbds oi ystery. ( 252 ) Sovereignty ity would be set up. It would have as its purpose the prevention of the manu- facture or use of atomic weapons for mass destruction and the promotion of the use of atomic energy for peaceful ends. To achieve its purpose, the Atomic Development Authority would have “managerial control or ownership of all atomic energy activities potentially dangerous to world security” and the right “to control, inspect, and license all o&er atomic energy activities,” that is, those which are directed toward peaceful uses. Specifically, the American pro- posal gives the Authority the following powers: (a) To obtain and maintain complete and exclusive control or ownership of all uranium, thorium, and other material which may be a source of atomic energy wherever present in potentially dangerous quantities whether in raw material, by-product, processed, or other form; (b) To conduct continuous investigations and surveys of sources of atomic energy throughout the world, in aid of the proper exercise of the foregoing and the Authority’s other functions and powers; (c) To acquire, construct, own, and exclusively operate all facilities for the production of U-235, plutonium, and such other fissionable materials as may be specified by the Authority and to maintain supplies of fissionable materials ade- quate to fulfil the purposes of the Authority; (d) To define and determine, in the manner set forth in the charter, any other facilities or activities in the field of atomic energy which would be dan- gerous imless controlled by the Authority, and to supervise and have complete managerial control of all such activities and facilities; (e) To have unhindered access to, and power to control, license, and inspect all other facilities which possess, utilize or produce materials which are a source of atomic energy, and all other activities which utilize or produce, or are capa- ble of utilizing or producing, atomic energy; (f) To have the exclusive right of research in the field of atomic explosives; (g) To foster and promote the non-dangerous use and wide distribution of atomic energy for beneficial purposes under licen^ or otl^ suitable arrange- ments established by the Authority; and \ (h) Subject to the provisbns of the treaty and charter, to have power to take necessary action and to issue rules and regulations.® The outstanding characteristic dE these provirions is the abrogation of the prin -StterioiintHid the use of atomic energy in all its aspects is concerned. For the Atomic Development Authority national boundaries cease to exist. Its agents can go wherever they please, in^)ed5ng^ controiEn^ dcring research, con- structing, proAi^g^ issuing rules and regulations. Thdrs is indeed “One World” in whiA they exercise siq>rane lawgiving authority, sul^ect only to the terms of the ciwter, that the untfcr which the Atomic Developm^t Aij^hqrity, like any other goveminental agency, would operate. Does tw A^dKMty ti^ieby biome a world government, exercising sov- qreignty within tfe l^iory of the rigpitodes the charter and thus making The answer to that question deprads upon poWef between the Authority and the national gov- perform its functions. Official Records. l 4 o. i, jfuac 14, ' ' , , , . i ^ ■■ (253) Politics among Nations If one assunotes, a$ some do, that atomic energy will soon become the main source of power in our civilization and that investigation and control, in order to be effective, could not be limited to the known sources of raw me- tcrials and energy, but would have to have the whole industrial establishment of all the signatories as its potential object, it could hardly be denied that, as a matter of political fact, the power of the Authority would be paramount within the territory of its operation. Then the national governments, how- ever great their autonomy might be in all other fields but atomic energy, would have lost their sovereignty. For the Atomic Development Authority, while limited in its functions to only one specific field of governmental activi- ties, would, because of the overriding importance of that field, obtain a key position in the industry, economy, science, social activities, and political life of the nations concerned. They would be under the legal obligation, according to the suggested charter, to submit virtually all their socially important na- tional activities to the orders and measures of the Authority. By virtue of its legal powers according to the charter, the Atomic Development Authority would have supreme authority within the national territories and would be sovereign. If one assumes, however, as most observers seem inclined to do, that, at least for the foreseeable future, the managerial and controlling functions of the Authority would be strictly limited both in actual operations and in their impact upon the national life of the signatories, the national governments would retain a decisive advantage in the distribution of power. Hence, they would not lose their sovereignty on account of the managerial and controlling aoivitics of the Authority. The latteris powers would then not differ in kind from the powers of other international organizations, such as the International Danube Commission, which exercise certain powers within national territo- ries, but whose activities, due to the strictly limited character of those powers, do not affect the sovereignty of the governments concerned. The situation relative to the enforcement of the decisions of the Authority is not essentially different from what wc have found it to be in the field of management and control. The United States proposal makes the Security CouiKil of the United Nations the primary enforcement agency for the de- dao^ the Authemty ® It qbvkaisly envisages types of emcarcement meas- to the Elicit p^uotion and use atrmic energy and mmA i|jeci6aJly oonsideied the CSiartcr of ihe United Nations. Yet &e Bemikf CmmM wiihk the meaning the United States pro- pcml h idmdcal with die Sacmlty Coonefl as eirrisaged by Artick 27, Charter of the Nations. For the United States h^ vadmsd dial: die of the pem^ient meml^ the Security Council shotihl wt i^ainst enSm^ement measures to be taken against the vio- latkm of m the It has iindsied dpt an affirmative vote of any seven |]}end3ers of the Seemity Conned should l)e suffid^t to put the enforcement macfaiacary of the United Nations into In c^er words, if any seven ov& of eleven of dse Secuiity Ccmndl deddc that certain enforcement measmes are to be taken fey cattsdm or all member stat^ against V uoder (g). ( 254 ) Sovereignty another state, all member states are under the legal obligation to execute the decision of the Security Council. The United States proposal constitutes the Security Council as a supranational centralized agency for the purpose of enforcing the decisions of the Atomic Development Authority. The Security Council would have no means of enforcement of its own. It would have to rely upon measures to be taken by the Authority and upon the member states’ faithfully fulfilling their legal obligations under Articles 41 fl. of the Charter of the United Nations. Granted this latter condition, no organic obstacle would stand in the way of effective enforcement action. For with the consensus of the permanent members being no longer a prerequisite for enforcement action — a prerequisite which, as we have seen, is diflScult of attainment under all circumstances and which is at present altogether impos- sible of realization — the main stumbling block to such action would have disappeared. The Security Council would then be in practice as well as in law the supreme authority, so far as the enforcement of the decisions of the Atomic Development Authority is concerned. Whether or not this would make the Security Council the enforcement agency of a world government, superseding the national sovereignties, is again a question which must be answered in the light of the distribution of power between the Security Council and the nationd governments. Our pre- vious considerations relative to management and control apply here. If atomic energy should become of paramount and all-permeating importance, sov- ereignty would indeed pass from the national governments to a world gov- ernment, composed of the Atomic Development Authority and the Security Council. If, on the other hand, the over-all impact of atomic energy should remain slim and its importance rather strictly limited, the Security Council would fulfill the functions of a specialized international agency which by common agreement has the authority to request individual states to perform certain limited enforcement actions. b) Majority Vote in International Organizations It has been said frequently in view Articfe 27, paragraph 3, of the Qbar- ter of the United Nations that, while tl^ pormanent nranbm of the Security Council have retained their sovereignty, the c^cr members of the United Nations have lost theirs. The text c 5 Article 27, paragraph 3, lends itself to such an interpr^tion; fc^*, in so far as the relations between the permanent and the nonpermanent members of the Security Council and between the members of the Security Council and the other xmmhexs of the United Na- tions are concerned, dbe majority principle tcphocs the prindple of unanimity. In other words, ^an affirmative vote of seven members including the concur- ring vc^es of the permanent members’’ of the Security Council binds all mem- bers of the Security Council as well as all members of the United Nations. If sudb a majority vote could put the instrumentalities of law enforcement of tfe individwi states at the dispose ot the United Nations to be applied any recaicitriuit meiribers, ttei the Security Council would indeed hive authority over the member states which are not permanent meiriDm of the Security Council. It, instead of the governments of those ( 255 ) Politics among Nations states, would be sovei:eign. While this result is legally possible by virtue of Article 27, paragraph 3, in conjunction with Articles 39, 41, 42 of the Charter/ its actual realization depends upon three political conditions, none of which exists at prcsoit and which arc not likely to exist simultaneously in the fore- seeable future. must be unanimity as the legal manifestation of political har- mxmy among the five permanent members of the Security Council in order that the Security Council exist at all as an operating law-enforcing agency. SecQ^ thfcjaa iktarv forces which the member states agree, according to Arti- * clS 43 to put at the disposal of the Security Council must be substantial enough to give the forces of the United Nations, available at any particular point, unquestioned superiority over the forces of lawlessness. The military forces of the world, in other words, must be so distributed as to make the forces of the United Nations stronger than the national forces of any single state or any likely combination of states. Third, each member state must exe- cute its c^ligations under the Charter, and especially under the military agree- ments, in good faith. It must sacrifice its national interests to the common good of the United Nations as defined by the Security Council. If these three conditions were realized today or were capable of realization in the foresee- abk future, one could indeed say that the Charter of the United Nations had eliminated, or was on its way to eliminate, the national sovereignty of those meirf>cr states which are not permanent members of the Security Council. Yet undl, according to Article 27, paragraph 2, of the Charter, deals only with prcx^ural matters which can have no bearing upon the supreme authority uirf of People*s Commissars, with su- preme authority to make an end to chaos and to establish ^ce and order. If the location sovereignty soems to be held in abeyance ibecause the con- kiids interpetatibns m that point, a stni^le, politi- ^ 299 U. S. 504 at ^16, 317 (193^* ( 259 ) PoUucs among Nations cal or military, between the pretenders to supreme authority will decide the question one way or the other. The struggle between the federal government and the states, issuing in a civil war which decided the question in favor of the federal government, is a classic example of this situation. The simple truth that a divided sovereignty is logically absurd and politi- cally unfeasible was never doubted by virtually all members of the Constitu- tional Convention of 1787.^^ Those who believed that sovereignty ought to be ve^cd in the states as well as those who wanted it to be located in a central government were convinced that it must reside either here or there, but could not be divided between both. “I hold it for a fundamental point,” wrote Madi- son to Randolph on April 8, 1787, “that an individual independence of the states is utterly irreconcilable with the idea of an aggregate sovereignty.” “We have been told,” declared James Wilson on the floor of the Convention, “that, each state being sovereign, all are equaL So each man is actually a sov- ereign over himself, and all men are therefore naturally equal. Can he retain his equality when he becomes a member of a civil government? He cannot. As little can a sovereign state, when it becomes a member of a federal gov- ernment. If New Jersey will not part with her sovereignty, it is vain to talk of government.” In the words of Hamilton: “Two sovereignties cannot co-exist within the sacfic limits.” It was Madison, however, who put his finger on the qualitative element of political authority, in contrast to the “more or less” of treaty obligations, as the distinctive characteristic of the sovereignty of a government and, as such, incompatible with the sovereignty of those subordinate to it. Madison declared on June 28, 1787, on the floor of the Convention: This fallacy of the reasoning drawn from the equality of sovereign states, in the formation of ccanpacts, lay in confounding mere treaties, in which were spcciikd certain duties to whkh the parties were to be bound and certain rules ^ which their subjects were to be ledprocajly governed in their intercourse, with a compact by which an authority was cresuod paramount to the parties, and making laws for the government of them. If France, En^azni, and S|miii, were to enter into a treaty for the of comm^oe, Sec., with the Prince of and four or five other ^ the simlJcst sovereigns of Europe, they would not hesitate to treat as cqua!^ and to make flbe regulations perfectly re- ciprocaL Would the case be the same if a council were to be formed of deputies msm each, mtii authority and osdy d^oifed the over the need feraddSoito location d the soverdgn power. For while it is the main ooiKiem c£ to create tfevices for the and The esEEXfitm k See m ^ 0/ ^ VoL V of Elliot's Berates (Wasl^gtoisi, I%5)^ p. ♦ ^ Odd,, p. 107. . , i p. 177, ^ . lidJ,, p. 202; c£ also p, i99,,The.s!k|ae k trast to his remarks refared to io MSote 10, ifal **csm he b«t one itt ssm mxf munity” (IBid., p. 44S). ^ Ibid., p. 250; also Patfierso®, p, ^4. ^ tj j ; < ( #p ) Sovereignty control of personal power, the clearest case of a sovereignty, definitely located, is the unfettered authority of Hobbes’ Leviathan, the source not only of law, but of ethics and mores as well. Thus the popular constitutional doctrines, rightly fearful of the unlimited power of absolute monarchy and of the risks of personal government, confounded the subjection of the sovereign authority to legal controls and political restraints with its elimination. In their endeavor to make democracy ‘‘a government of laws and not of men” they forgot that in any state, democratic or otherwise, there must be a man or a group of men ultimately responsible for the exercise of political authority. Since in a de- mocracy that responsibility lies dormant in normal times, barely visible through the network of constitutional arrangements and legal rules, it is widely believed that it does not exist, and that the supreme lawgiving and law-enforcing authority, which was formerly the responsibility of one man, the monarch, is now distributed among the different co-ordinate agencies of the government and that, in consequence, no one of them is supreme. Or else that authority is supposed to be vested in the people as a whole, who, of course, as such, cannot act. Yet in times of crisis and war that ultimate re- sponsibility asserts itself, as it did under the presidencies of Lincoln, Wilson, and the two Roosevelts and leaves to constitutional theories the arduous task of arguing it away after the event. In federal states, monarchical or democratic, ideological satisfaction must be given to the individual states which, once having been sovereign, are so no longer, yet are loath to admit it. To that end political practice develops a whole system of constitutional flatteries which b^tows upon the officials and symbols of the individual states the honors due the officials and symbols of the sovereign states, and which makes use of concepts and constitutional devices which have meaning only with reference to sovereign states.^*^ Since it is con- stitutionally and politically impossible to deny that the federal government is sovereign and since it is psychologically impossible to admit that the indi- vidual states are no longer sovereign, constitutional theory simply divides sovereignty between tl^ federal government and the states, thus trying to reconcile political realities with political preferences. So it came about that Hamilton and Madison, who had emphatically proclaimed the indivisibility erf sovereignty on the floor of the Convention erf 1787, were just as emphatic in their insistenoe upon the divisibility of ^vereignty when a year later in The Federalist they enefcavor^ to persuade the states thsu they could keep their soverdgnty even Aough they endowed the fecfeal government with the sov- ereign powers provitfed for in the new con^tutioii.^ ^ The €oii^tittnk»sal f^ragtioes oC fc passes, ijf &c Sonet Umoo, and of Germany Hoder tike Comtkti^ocL of 1871 iSk^trate dns point. Cf. C. E. Mcniani, Hioory of tk^ Theory cf Soffemg»iy smee Rottsseau (New Yc^t Tfec HsiYCEsky 1900), p. “tie constfet^om reflected, tfaerefoffc, dbe pofitica! facts tfee pol^idli tke ^^ae In ha of i>ower$ betw^n and Cesitrai a»d in ha faflnre to de^e dcaafy and exf^dy die tddinate source of soweigB p<¥wer.” Iw w ^ ^ Sa^sep&sscy between dieories of sovere^ty and tbe ^ tolcer, os Government (OAid: Oxford ^ ^ ^ hi a parad^ dm Eranoe, professing a of pm^ses a sysam. oi parliamentary soyeie^ty, while Gem Bataan, prolesdN^ ^ l^oe^eiae of dke so^ei^^nty of Parliament, re^y practises a system of ( 261 ) Politics among Nations Because of a similar meed for building an ideological bridge between po- litical realities and political preferences, the doctrine of divided sovereignty has gained wide acceptance in the field of international relations. On the one hand, the national state is to a higher degree than ever before the predomi- nant source of the individual’s moral and legal valuations and the ultimate point of reference for his earthly loyalties. Consequently, its power among the other nations and the preservation of its sovereignty are the individuals foremost political concerns in international affairs. On the other hand, it is that very power and sovereignty, clashing under the conditions of modern civilization with the power and sovereignty of other nations, which imperils the existence of that civilization and, with it, of the national states themselves. Thus, since the end of the Napoleonic Wars, humanitarians and statesmen have with ever increasing frequency and intensity searched for means to avoid the self-destructive wars to which the struggle for power among mod- ern national states gives rise. It has, however, become more and more obvious, especially in recent years, that the main stumbling block which thus far has vitiated all attempts at restraining the struggle for power on the international scene is national sovereignty itself. As long as the supreme lawgiving and law-enforcing authority remains vested in the national governments, war, especially under the moral, political, and technological conditions of our age, may be said to be unavoidable. Thus the political reality of the likelihood of self-destructive war confronts the political preference for the preservation of national sovereignty. While people everywhere arc anxious to free themselves frcHn the threat of war, they are also anxious to preserve the sovereignty of thdi respective nations. Yet if the price of peace were only a slice of sov- errignty and not the whole of it, if in order to lessen the likelihood of war it were n«:essary for the national state only to share sovereignty with an inter- national orgi^uzatiOQ and not to give it up altogether, one might have peace and nationd sovereignty at the same time. In a public-opinion poll taken in the spring of 1947, 75 per cent of the peo- ple answered in the aflfrmativc the question: "Would you like to see the United Stsues foin in a movemoDyt to establish an international police force to imintaio worU peace?” However, Repon No. 35, pp. 12 C A otober itor tos, ttoa ie leficoi yms in to eowatry to in Great Britain, tove tod atoilar oomatoto Of. ^ Ik, A hf idasfAyhenmtkn (Lcmdtm, Nesr Tofit, tmsmmt. Grem to Cph ( 262 ) Sovereignty an organization (as well as of the people as a whole) are willing to transfer supreme law-enforcing authority, that is, sovereignty, from the United States to an international organization. The majority want to have it both ways; they want to “divide” sovereignty. It is significant in this respect that while 32 per cent of those favoring an international police force want the American forces to be larger than the international police force, 41 per cent, by far the largest of the groups expressing an opinion on the matter, want them to be of equal size. They want to “divide” sovereignty fairly and equitably by Icav- ing 50 per cent with the United States and giving 50 per cent to an interna- tional organization. Of this contradiction between political reality and political preference, the belief in a divisible sovereignty is the ideological manifestation. The doctrine of the divisibility of sovereignty makes it intellectually feasible to reconcile not only what logic proves to be incompatible — to give up sovereignty while re- taining it — but also what experience shows to be irreconcilable under the conditions of modern civilization — national sovereignty and international order. Far from expressing a theoretical truth or from reflecting the actuality of political experience, the advice to give up “a part of national sovereignty” for the sake of the preservation of peace is tantamount to the advice to close one’s eyes and dream that one can eat one’s cake and have it, too. ( 263 ) PART SEVEN WORLD POLITICS IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY CHAPTER XVni The New M.oral Force of Nationalistic Universalism We should now be able to answer the question we asked when we pointed to the intellectual and moral tradition of the Western World as the force which through the instrumentality of the balance of power kept the modern state system together from the end of the religious wars to the First World War. What is left of this heritage today? we asked then* What kind of consensus unites the nations of the world in the period following the Second World War?^ The answer can only be that the limitations upon the struggle for power on the international scene are weaker today than they have b^n at any time in the history of the modern state system. The one international society of the sevent^nth and eight^nth centuries has been replaced by a number na- tional societies which provide for their mcmbeis the highest principle of social integration. In consequence, the international morality vs^kh in pa^ centuries kept the aspirations for power of the individual states within certain bounds has, except for certain fragmentary restraints, given way to the ethics cf individual nations. This ethics ncA only docs not recognize any moral obli- gations above and apart from it, but even claims universal recognition from all the wc^dd- World public c^inion is but an ideological shadow without even that siA^auce common valuations and reactions which in other times at least the international ari^ocracy shared. The main bulk of the rules of inter- nadonal law owes its ^^ence to the of the individual nations. To surround that soveimgnty with legal safi^^uards is one of thdr main tasks. Far from restraining Ae aspirations im pow^ c£ individual nations, they stt 1^ it that the power po^^n of indivkhid natk^ h adversely aSected by whatrm^ legal obligations they take themselves in their relations with other What morality is in the field of ethics, what national pubfic ofmdcm is in the detnain ol A© mores, sovereignty is for interns^onal law; it die manifestation ^ Ae xia^lon as the recipient of the individital^s ( 267 ) Politics among Nations ultimate earthly loyalties, as the mightiest social force, as the supreme author- ity giving and enforcing laws for the individual citizen. The supranational forces, such as universal religions, humanitarianism, cosmopolitanism, and all the other personal tics, institutions, and organiza- tions, which bind individuals togcdicr across national boundaries, arc in- finitely weaker today than the forces which unite peoples within a particular natioEtal boundary and separate them from the rest of humanity. This weak- ening of the supranationd forces, which must be strong in order to impose effective restraints upon the international policies of nations, is but the nega- tive by-product of the great positive force which shapes the political face of our age — nationalism. Nationalism, identified as it is with the interriational polidcs of individual nations, cannot restrain these policies; it is itself in need of restraint. Not only has it fatally weakened, if not destroyed, the restraints which have come down to us from previous ages, it has also supplied the aqjiradons for power of individual nations with a good conscience and a pseudo-religious fervor. It has inspired them with a thirst and a strength for universal dominion of which the nationalism of the nineteenth century knew nothing. The nationalism of the mid-twentieth century is essentially different from what traditionally goes by that nan^ and what culminated in the national movements and the national state of the nineteenth century. Traditional na- tionalism sought to ixet the nation from alien domination and give it a state of its own. This goal was consim for as many national- isms as there were nations which wanted to establish or preserve a state of their own. The international conflicts in which nationalism of the nineteenth century was involved were, therefor^ essentially of two kinds: the conflicts between a nationality and an alien master — the Balkan nations and Turkey, the Slav natkms c£ the Danube basin and the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, the Poles and Eustia — and the conflicts between different nationalities over the delimi- tation of their respective sj^r^es of dominiem, such as the struggle betwem the Germaas^ on the one hand, and the Poles and the on th^ other- JiiliGrxiatioQal codlkts m ^ 0 m of either di&reiit of ^ git ixSmsi m acc^ it at alL It wm hojped ns hfie as' onoe the a^»ratk>ns of all were fulfil^ a soci^ of ^ dbtors^^ ai S m dbe To oS % the mm mmm. vdbll the and €cm^>eting narion a firi es of ^ the suporpowers dE & imd-tvraitie^ ^ fai^amcntal chai^ which ow ti^ 43^ The n^kmali^ today, ^udb is ie£%4 one thing m ootn^ mcm with the natk)fialism of tike li iiiicteeiA century^ ^ tiie natttx as die ultimate ooint of reference^' htmru New Moral Force of Nationalistic Uniaersalism joation is the ultimate goal of political action, the end point of the political development beyond which there arc other nationalisms with similar and equally justifiable goals. For the nationalistic universalism of the mid- twentieth century the nation is but the starting point of a universal mission whose ultimate goal reaches to the confines of the political world. While na- tionalism wants one nation in one state and nothing else, the nationalistic universalism of our age claims for one nation and one state the right to im- pose its own valuations and standards of action upon all the other nations. These rival claims to universal dominion on the part of different nations have dealt the final, fatal blow to that social system of international inter- course within which for almost three centuries nations were living together in constant rivalry, yet under the conunon roof of shared values and universal standards of action. The collapse of that roof has destroyed the common habitat of the nations of the world, and the most powerful of them each assert the right to build it anew in their own image. Beneath the ruins of that roof lies buried the mechanism which kept the wails of that house of nations standing: the balance of power. ( 269 ) CHAPTER XIX The New Balance of Power The destruction of that intellectual and moral consensus which controlled the druggie for power for almost three centuries deprived the balance of power of the vital energy which made it a living principle of international politics. Concomitant with the destruction of that vital energy, the system of the bai- lee of power has undergone three structural changes which considerably impair its operations/ I. INFLEXIBILITY OF THE NEW BALANCE OF POWER The most obvious of these structural changes which impaired the opera- tiem of the balance of power is to be found in the drastic numerical reduction the pkyers in the game. At the end of the Thirty Years’ War, for instance, the German Empire was composed of 900 sovereign states which the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 reduced to 355. The Napoleonic interventions, of which the most notable is the dictated reforms of the Reichstag of Ratis- bone of 1803, eliminated more than 200 of the sovereign German states. When the Germanic Confederation was founded in 1815, only thirty-six sov- eroga states were left to join it. The unification of Italy in 1859 clhninated scftB. sovereign states, the umfication of Germany in 1871, twenty-four. In 1815^ ^ the end the NapolecHUc Wars, eight nations — Austria, France, Britaiii, Porti^ial, Ru^ia, Prussia, Spain, and Sweden — had the diplo- matk rank of great powers. With PtHtugal, Spain, and Sweden granted such rank oiily 0m <£ traditional courtesy and soon to lose that undeserved altogedm,^ the niinher of acmally g^eat powers was really reduced to five. In the Italy aiKi Ac United Jclned Aeno^ followed toward the end of Ac oentt^ by Japan. At the oud^eak ot tte Fir^ World War, there vme Aen again eight great powers, c£ whiA for the first two were located tc^ly outtide Eu- rope: Austria, France, Gamany, Great Britain, Itafy, J^an, Russia, and the United States* The end of the First World War found Austria definitely, ^ See above, pp. 139, otfccr cbangts wlucb occuired ia ibe ccauiry. ( 370 ) The New Balance of Power and Germany and Russia temporarily, removed from that list. Two decades later, at the outbreak of the Second World War, one could count seven great powers, Germany and the Soviet Union having again become first-rate powers and the others having retained their status. The end of the Second World War saw this number reduced to three, namely, Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States, while China and France, in view of their past or their potentialities, are treated in negotiations and organizations as though they were great powers. In the aftermath of the Second World War, British power has declined to such an extent as to be distinctly inferior to the power of the United States and of the Soviet Union, the only two great powers left at present. This reduction in the number of states which are able to play a major role in international politics has an important effect upon the operation of the balance of power. This effect gains added importance from the reduction in the absolute number of states through the consolidations of 1648 and 1803 and the national unifications of the nineteenth century. These reductions were only temporarily offset in 1919 by the creation of new states in Eastern and Central Europe; for these states have in the meantime cither disappeared as states, for example, the Baltic states, or, in any case, have ceased to be independent factors on the international scene. Tliis development has de- prived the balance of power of much of its flexibility and uncertainty and, in consequence, of its restraining effect upon the nations actively engaged in the struggle for power. In former times, as we have seen, the balance of power operated in the main by way of coalitions among a number of nations. The principal nations, while differing in power, were still of the same order of magnitude. In the eighteenth century, for instance, Austria, France, Great Britain, Prussia, Russia, and Sweden belonged in the san^ class, in so far as their relative power was concerned. Fluctuations in their power would affect their respec- tive positions in the hierarchy of powers, but not their position as great powers. Similarly, in the period from 1870 to 1914, the game of power politics was played by eight players of the first rank of which six, thc^ Europe, kept at the game constantly. Under such circumstances no player could go very far in his aspirations for power without being sure of the suf^rt of at least one cr the other of his co-players, and nobody could generally be too sure of that siqpport There was virtually no mdon in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries which was not (impelled to retreat from an advanced position and retrace its steps because it did not receive diplomatic or mili- tary sup^rt from other natfons v^pm which it had counted. This was e^)€cially true of Russia in the nii^eenth century. On tl^ other hand, if Germany, in violation of the rules of the game, had not in 1914 given Austria a free l^d m its dealing with Scri^ these is little doubt that Austria would not have dar^ to go as far as it did, and that the First World War might have he^ avoickd. The greats* the onmber of active players, the greater the number dE pos- sil^ the greater abo tte uncertainty as to combinations which WiP oppose each other and as to the role which the individual ac^urfly f!erfc^ m them- Both William II in 1914 and Hitler in ( 271 ) Politics among Nations 1939 refused to believe that Great Britain, and ultimately the United States, too, would join the rank of their enemies, and both discounted the effect of American intervention. It is obvious that these miscalculations as to who would fight against whom meant for Germany the difference between victory and defeat. Whenever coalitions of nations comparable in power confront each other, calculations of this kind will of necessity be close, since the de- fection of one prospective member or the addition of an unexpected one can- not fail to affect th« balance of power considerably, if not decisively. Thus in the eighteenth century, when princes used to change their alignments with the greatest of ease, such calculations were frequently almost indistinguishable from wild guesses. In consequence, the extreme flexibility of the balance of power resulting from the utter unreliability of alliances made it imperative for all players to be cautious in their moves on the chessboard of international politics and, since risks were hard to calculate, to take as small risks as possi- ble. In the First World War it was still of very great importance, bearing upon the ultimate outcome of the conflict, whether Italy would remain neutral or enter the war on the side of the Allies. It was in recognition of that importance that both sides made great efforts, by competing in promises of territorial aggrandizement, to influence Italy's decision- The same situation then pre- vailed, to a lesser degree, even with respect to so relatively weak a power as Greece. This aspect of the balance of power has undergone a radical transforma- tion in recent years. In the Second World War, the decisions of such countries as Italy, Spain, or Turk^, or even France, to join or not to join one or the other side were mere episodes, welcomed or feared, to be sure, by the bellig- erents, but in no way even remotely capable of transforming victory into de- feat, or vice versa. The disparity in the power of nations of the first rank, such as the United States, the Soviet Union, Great Britain, Japan, and Germany, the one hand, and all the remaining nations, on the other, was then already so great that the defection of one, or the addition of another, ally could no longer overturn the balance of power and thus materially affect the ultimate outcome of the struggle. Under the influence of changes in alignments one scak might rise somewhat and the other sink still more unfc a heavier wei^it, yet dwse changes could not reverse the relation of the scales which wmi by the prcfjooderant weights of the first-rate powers. It was the cl Ae oountries— the United States, the Soviet om ^ o^ie hand, Germany and Japan, on the other MitoeC Tills fest noticcabk in the Second World War, fc the United States and the ^ i^^s^tiona! ^E- widi ^ fomatei^ amsA so ing that thiw^ fh«r mm of power between them. That bdanae camiKit in the aiigni^ts aBies, at Im fiw ^ As a j uinuenoe the power a^JirationsQt dfe-wiwitt rkmalsoMie . v- . ( 272 ) The New Balance of Power than any other power or possible combination of other powers, oppose each other. Neither of them need fear surprises from actual or prospective allies. The disparity of power between major and minor nations is so great that the minor powers have not only lost their ability to tip the scales- They have also lost that freedom of movement which in former times enabled them to play so important and often decisive a role in the balance of power. What was formerly true only of a relatively small number of nations, such as certain Latin-American countries in their relations with the United States and Portu- gal in its relations of Great Britain, is true now of most, if not all, of them: they are in the orbit of one or the other of the two giants whose political, military, and economic preponderance can hold them there even against their will. This is the exact opposite of the era of ever shifting alliances and new com- binations demanding constant vigilance, circumspection, and caution, of which the eighteenth century is the classic exposition- That era lasted through the nineteenth century and the first three decades of the twentieth. Even during the Second World War, it played an important role at least with re- gard to the anticipated actions of the major belligerents. Today neither the United States nor the Soviet Union need look over its shoulder, as they still did during the Second World War, lest the defection of one major ally or the addition of one to the other side might upset the balance of power. Nor are they any longer constrained to accommodate their policies to the wishes of doubtful allies and exacting neutrals. No such fears and considerations need restrain their ambitions and actions; they are, as a pair of nations has rarely been before, masters of their own policies and of their own fates. The line between the two camps is clearly drawn, and the weight of those few which might still straddle the fence is so small as to be virtually negligible, or, as in the case of China and India, a matter of future development rather than a concern of the pr»ent. There are no longer neu- trals which, as **honest brokers,” can mitigate international conflicts and con- tribute to their peaceful settlement or else, by maneuvering between the two camps and threatening to join the one or the other as occasion might require, erect effective barriers to limidcss aspirations for power. 2. DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BAEANCER® The second change in the structure of the balance of power, which we are witnesring today, is but the iI^vit^i)le result of the change just discussed. It is the dfeippearanoe of the babnoer, the ^holder” cf Aki balance. Both naval supaemacy and wrti^ immunity fam hstmm at^dk for more than three emturies endued Ckeat Britain m t£is function for the balance of power, Today Great ^^tin is m> capaWe of paforming k; for the ^irpassed Great Britain in naval strength, and the mod- em deprived navies of unoontested mast^ c£ the seas. ^ iK^only ^ to the invulnerability sisO horn an advant^ into a lia- s ci ilie balaiice^ aborc; |^. 142 n. ( 273 ) Politics among Nations bility the concentration of population and industries on a relatively small territory in close proximity to a continent. In the great contest between France and the Hapsburgs around which the modem state system evolved (at least until the “diplomatic revolution” of 1756 when France allied itself with the Hapsburgs against Prussia), Great Britain was able to play the controlling and restraining role of the balancer hccsixtse it was strong enough in comparison with the two contenders and their allies to make likely the victory of whichever side it joined. This was again true in the Napoleonic Wars and throughout the nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries. Today Great Britain’s friendship is no longer of decisive importance. Its role as the “holder” of the balance has come to an end, leaving the modern state system without the benefits of restraint and pacification which it bestowed upon that system in former times. Even as late as the Second World War, the neutrality of Great Britain or its alignment with Germany and Japan instead of with the United Nations might easily have meant for the latter the difference between victory and defeat. Now, in view of the probable trends in the technology of warfare and the distribution of power between the United States and the Soviet Union, it may well be that the attitude of Great Britain in an armed conflict between these two powers would not decisively affect the ultimate outcome. In the metaphorical lan- guage of the balance of power one might say, rather cmdely but not without truth, that, while in the Russian scale there is a weight of seventy, the weight of the American scale amounts to a htmdred of which seventy is the United States* own strength, ten that of Great Britain, and the remainder that of the odicr actual cht prospective allies. Thus, even if the British weight were re- moved from the American scale and placed into the Russian, the heavier weights would still be in the American scale. It follows from what has been said above that the decline of the relative power of Great Britain and its resultant inability to keep its key position in the balance of power is not an isolated occurrence solely attributable to Great Bri- tain. Ratlin it is the consequence of a structural change which affects the fimcdcming of the balance of power in all its manifestations. It is, therefore, im- possible that the privileged and dominating place which Great Britain has held for so kmg could be idberited by another nation. It is not so much that the power c£ the traditional holder of the place has declined, incapaciting it for its traditioiial as that the pkK^e itself no longer exists. With two giants mmg m dmmmm the portion of the scies with their own weight there be no efaanoe lor a dyhd power to exert a derisive influence. It is, fiysriie die preaepf: rnmasm to hope that another nation or groi^ of mrnmm wih take hopes have for a mm been ®totained ribqppent spokesman im been Genoral IPeG^le. He fais p of sp(^2ches that ritfacr France sioiie or a Unted Itotspc k^^sblp should per- form the padfyio^ and restrateng of the of the bahmee be- tween the odbssus ctf the East $md the mhmm of the West. He made this point with partiodar myites in his ^eech ^ July 28^ 19^ at He opened his address with a analyris of the of the balance of power: ; ( 274 ) The 'New Balance of Pother It is certain indeed that, with respect to what it was before this thirty-year war the face of the world has altered in every way. A third of a century ago we were living in a universe where six or eight great nations, apparently equal in strength, each by differing and subde accords associating others with it, man- aged to establish a balance everywhere in which the less powerful found them- selves relatively guaranteed and where international law was recognized, since a violator would have faced a coalition of moral or material interests, and where, in the last analysis, strategy conceived and prepared with a view to future con- flicts involved only rapid and limited destruction. But a cyclone has passed. An inventory can be made. When wc take into account the collapse of Germany and Japan and the weakening of Europe, Soviet Russia and the United States are now alone in holding the first rank. It seems as if the destiny of the world, which in modern times has in turn smiled on the Holy Roman Empire, Spain, France, Britain and the German Reich, con- ferring on each in turn a kind of pre-eminence, has now decided to divide its favor in two. From this decision arises a factor of division that has been sub- stituted for the balance of yore. After referring to the anxieties caused by the expansionist tendencies of the United States and the Soviet Union, De^ulle raised the question of restor- ing a stable balance of power. Who then can re-establish the equilibrium, if not the old world, between the two new ones? Old Europe, which, during so many centuries was the guide of the universe, is in a position to constitute in the ht^rt of a world that tends to divide itself into two, the necessary element of compensation and under- standing. TTie nations of the ancient west have for their vital arteries the North Sea, the Mediterranean, the Rhine; they are geographically situated between the two new masses. Resolved to conserve an independence that would be gravely ex- posed in the event of a conflagration, they arc physically and morally drawn to- gether by the massive ^ort of the Russians as well as by the lib^al advance of the Americans. Of global strength because of their own resources and those of the vast territories that arc linked to them by destiny, spreading afeir their influences and their activities, what will be their weight if Aey manage to com- bine thdr policies in spite of the difficultks amemg hma age to agel ^ However, it is not only the weakness of France in comparison with the United States and the Soviet Union which incapacitates it even more than Great Britain to perform that task. Above all, G^ral DeGauDe’s argument kaves out of ^^count the dedrive fact that Great Britain was capable of mak- ing its beneficial contributions to peace and ^ability only b^use it was geographically remote from the emtors of friction and a)nflict, becai^e it had no vital interests in the stakes of these conjSicts as such, and because it had the opportunity satisfying its aspirations for power in areas beyemd the seas which generally were beyond the readht of the main contenders for power. • It was that threefold aloofness, together with its resources of power, which en^fcd Great Brit^ to play its rofe as "bolder’* oi the balance. In taom of the^ duee is France or a United Europe alcxrf from the centers of ® p. r; d. for la^ ^jcccfacs, ihid., June 30, 1947, p. i; ( 275 ) THE BALANCE OF POWER IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY Politics among Nations conflict Quite the contrary, they are deeply implicated in them in all three respects. For they are at once the battlefield and the prize of victory in an armed conflia between the United States and the Soviet Union, They are permanently and vitally interested in the victory of one or the other side. And they are unable to seek satisfaction for their aspirations for power anywhere but on the European continent itself. It is for these reasons that neither France nor Europe as a whole could enjoy that freedom of maneuver which ti^ "holder’* of the balance must have in order to fulfill its function. 3. DISAPPEARANCE OF THE COLONIAL FRONTIER With this discussion we are broaching a third change in the structure of the balance of power, namely, the disappearance of the colonial frontier. The balance of power owed the moderating and restraining influence which it exerted in its classical period not only to the moral climate within which it operated and to its own mechanics, but also in good measure to the circum- stance that the nations participating in it rarely needed to put all their national energies into the political and military struggles in which they were engaged with each other. Nations in that period sought power through the acquisition of territory, then considered the symbol and substance of national power. Trying to take land away from a powerful neighbor was one method of gain- ing power. There was, however, a much less risky opportunity for achieving that end. That opportunity was provided by the wide expanses of three con- tinents: Africa, the Americas, and the part of Asia bordering on the Eastern oceans. Throughout the history of the balance of power. Great Britain found in this opportunity the main source of its power and of its detachment from the issues which involved the other nations in continuous conflict. Spain dissi- pated its straigth in exploiting that opportunity and thus removed itself from the struck for power as a force to be reckoned with. What for Great Britain and Spain was a cemstant and major ooncem attracted the energies of the otber nadons to a ksscr ^;ree or only ^radically. Tl^ policies of France in the eighteoith century j^esent instructive exam|^ of the reciprocal effect of colcHual expansion and imperialistic attacks 13pm the existing balance of power; the more intense these attacks the kss ^tsention was paid to colofridl and vice veansa. The United States and Russia were for long stages ol fficir histmy totally absorbed by tte tssk (rf pushing their feontiers forwaid into the politfcally empty spaces of their continents and durii^ those periods they mesk no motive part in tte balance of power. The Austmm was too much concern^ espedaily during the nineteenth century, with maintaining its control over the rc^ve non-German nationali- ties of Central and Soutl^a^em Europe, which made up tl^ bulk of its empue, to be capable of more than limited excursions into power politics. Fuithennofe, until cfeep into the eighteenth century, the threat of Turkish aggression limited Austria’s freedom of movement on the d^ssboard of inter- nationai politics. Prussia, finally, as die late-comer to the circle of the great powers, had to be satisfied with defending and s^airing its position as a great ( 278 ) The New Balance of Power power. Besides, it was too weak internally and in too unfavorable a geographi- cal position to think of a program of unlimited expansion. Even after Bis- marck had made Prussian power predominant in Germany and German power predominant in Europe, his policy was aimed at preserving, not at expanding that power. In the period between 1870 and 1914, the stability of the status quo in Europe was the direct result, on the one hand, of the risks implicit in even the smallest move at the frontiers of the great powers themselves and, on the other, of the opportunity of changing the status quo in outlying regions with- out incurring the danger of a general conflagration. As Professor Toynbee observes: At the center [of the group of states forming the balance of power], every move that any one state makes with a view to its own aggrandizement is jeal- ously watched and adroitly countered by all its neighbors, and the sovereignty over a few square feet of territory and a few hundr^ “souls” becomes a su^cct for the bitterest and stubbornest contention. ... In the easy circumstances of the periphery, quite a mediocre political talent is often able to work wonders. . . . The domain of the United States can be expanded unobtrusively right across North America from the Atlantic to the Pacific, the domain of Russia right across Asia from Baltic to Pacific, in an age when the best statesmanship of France or Germany cannot avail to obtain unchallenged possession of an Alsace or a Posen.* With the unification of Germany in iSyoy the consolidation of the great nation states was consummated and territCHiiai gains in Europe could hence- forth be made only at the expense of the great powers or their allies. There- after, for more than four decades, the great issues of world politics were con- nected with African names, such as Egypt, Tunis, Morocco, the Congo, South Africa, and with the decrepit Asiatic empires of China and Persia. Local wars arose as a result of these issues — the B^r War of 1899-1902 between Great Britain and the Boer Republics, the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-05 and the Russo-Turkish and Italo-Turkish Wars of 18;^ and 1911-12 respectively. But it should be noted that in all these wars one of the great powers fought again^ what might be called a “peripheric” power, a power which was either the designated reject of the former’s expansion or, as in the exceptional case of Japan, an outside competitor. In no case was it noiessary for a great power to take up arms against another great power in OTdcr to expand into the politi- cally emj^y spaces of Africa and Asia. The policy of compensations could here operate vdtfa a maximum of suc- cess, for there was so much political ao-iMn’srknd that one could compensate one’s self and aUbw others to do the same. There was always the possibility of compromise without compromising on€% vital interests, of retreating while saving oBe*s face, sidestepping and postponing. The period from 1870 to 1914, then, was a period of cfipk^natic tergains and horse trading for |)d[^r pec^le’s ia^s, of postponed conflicts and sidestepped issues, and it was Mso the period cohtinwus pea<^ among the g^eat powers. Study of Histo^ {t.ondon , New Yoik, Tonsote: Oxford University o* pabBsher.) ( 279 ) AAAIN ISSUES OF : WORLD POLITICS 1870-1914 Politics among Nations Yet it is significant that the most persistent and the most explosive of the great issues of that period, while still located at the periphery of the circle of the great powers, was closer to it geographically and weighed more di- rectly upon the distribution of political and military power within it than any other of the great issues of that epoch. That issue was how to distribute the inheritance of the European part of the Turkish Empire, also called the East- am or the Balkan Question. Out of it arose the conflagration of the First World War. The Balkan Question more than any other issue of that period was likely to lead to open conflict among the great powers — especially since the vital interests of one of them, Austria, were directly affected by the national aspirations of Serbia. It is, however, doubtful that this outcome was inevitable. One might even plausibly maintain that if the other great powers, especially Germany, had dealt with the Balkan Question in 1914, as they had done successfully at the Congress of Berlin in 1878, that is, in recognition of its peripheric character, the First World War might well have been avoided. When Bismarck declared In 1876 ® that, as far as the interests of Germany were concerned, the Balkans were not worth ^‘the good bones of one single Pomeranian musketeer,” he affirmed emphatically the peripheric character of the Balkan Question in view of the political and military interests of Ger- many. When the German government in July 1914 promised to support what- ever steps Austria decided to take against Serbia, it did the exact opposite, and for no good reason. Germany identifed itself with the Austrian interest in the prostration of Serbia as though it was its own, while Russia identified itself with Serbia’s defense of its independence. Thus a conflict at the periphery of the European state system transformed itself into a struggle which threatened IP affect the over-all distributi as k were, no empty space into which to step |n order to ^vade the issue. Russia had to face the Austro-German deter^ minarioipi to ae|de flte Serbian pi^fem on Au^ria’s terms. In ccmsequence, France ted to hm tite invocatkm el the FrancorRu^an Afliance by Russia, Germany had I? tece the activation d that gUiance, and < 5 r^ Britain had to lace the to B^um. There was no sidestepping the^ issues except Ht the psrice of wtet each natba j:^;arded its vital interests to be^ Whk came in July 1914, at least in part by blundering diplomacy, has today teeo^ th^ inductable result of structwal change in the balance of power. It wm possjjfe in Ae pei^ l^eceding die First World War for tte great powers to defloqt their rivalries &om ttek own frontiers to the » la the scsslcai ot the 1^76. ( 282 ) In TrofttlrfM Politics among Nations periphery and into politically empty spaces because, as we have seen, vir- tually all the active participants in the balance of power were European na- tions and, furthermore, the main weights of the balance were located in Europe. To say that there were during that period a periphery of politically empty spaces is simply a negative way of saying that during that period the balance of power was quantitatively and qualitatively circumscribed by geo- graphical limits. As tt« balance of power becomes world-wide with its main weights in three different continents, the American and the Eurasian, the dichotomy between the circle of the great powers and its center, on the one hand, and its periphery and the empty spaces beyond, on the other, must of necessity disappear. The periphery of the balance of power now coincides with the coniines of the earth. The formerly empty spaces lie east and west, north and south, on th^ poles and in the deserts, on land, on water, and in the air, athwart the routes over which the two superpowers must approach each other for friendly or hostile contacts. Into those spaces the two remaining great contenders on the international scene have poured their own power, political, military, and economic, transforming those spaces into the two great blocs which border at each other and oppose each other at the four corners of the earth. 4. POTENTIALITIES OF THE TWO-BLOC SYSTEM TIksc two blocs face each other like two fighters in a short and narrow ianc They can advance and meet in what is likely to be combat, or they can retreat and allow the other side to advance into what to them is precious ground. Those manifold and variegated maneuvers through which the masters of the balance of power tried either to stave off armed conflicts alto- gether or at least to make xb^ brief and decisive yet limited in scope, the alliances and counteralliances, the shifting of alliances according to whence the greater threat or the better c^portunity might come, the sidmepping and posqxwacmcat of issues, the deflection of rivalries from the exposed frontyard mm the ooioirial badeyard— these are thii^ dE the pm. With them have gone into ofaimoo peci&r finesse sditjety m mind, the calculating md veisariie and bold ^ desmms which were re- q^fiied ixmo. the jdayers ia tiia| game. And modes of action and mteileictiial attunes there has selE-reguiatmg flcxiHlity, that au to uaifc of v&e have qpdben df disturbed power reMoi^ dtber lo revert m their old orl^ e^aHish a new one. Fesr die two which today dcteip&ie the aotese M world afiairs only one pohey sooails lo he Icft^ diat is, to incre^ own ^reagth and that of their saieihti6!& AJI Ae players that count hai^ tafenjridcs^ and in the foreseor fmme m svdtsh feoui one ride m the other to take nor, if it were ^ take plaos^ upoidd it be hkely to exi^iiig t^tknee of power. Ae issues everywh^b^ advance into, areas vdrich boA rides fiq^d M ^ vM inl^est to « See afeofw, fjfx. 125^ 12^ The New Balance of Power be held, and the give and take of compromise becomes a weakness which neither side is able to afford. While formerly war was regarded, according to the classic definition of Clausewitz, as the continuation of diplomacy by other means, the art of diplomacy is now transformed into a variety of the art of warfare. That is to say, we live in the period of "cold war” where the aims of warfare are being pursued, for the time being, with other than violent means. In such a situa- tion the peculiar qualities of the diplomatic mind are useless, for they have nothing to operate with and are consequently superseded by the military type of thinking. The balance of power, once disturbed, can be restored only, if at all, by an increase in the weaker side’s military strength. Yet, since there are no important variables in the picture aside from the inherent strength of the two giants themselves, either side must fear that the temporarily stronger con- testant will use its superiority to eliminate the threat from the other side by shattering military and economic pressure or by a war of annihilation. Thus, as we approach the mid-twentieth century, the international situa- tion is reduced to the primitive spectacle of two giants eyeing each other with watchful suspicion. They bend every effort to increase their military poten- tial to the utmost, since this is all they have to count on. Both prepare to strike the first decisive blow, for if one does not strike it the other might. Thus con- tain or be contained, conquer or be conquered, destroy or be destroyed, become the watchwords of the new diplomacy. That such is today the political state of the world docs not of necessity re- sult from the mechanics of the new balance of power. The changed structure of the balance of power has made the hostile opposition of two gigantic power blocs possible, but it has not made it inevitable. Quite the contrary, the new balance of power is a mechanism which contains in itself the potentialities for unheard-of good as well as for unprecedented evil. Which of these potentiali- ties will be realized depends not upon the mechanics of the balance of power, but upon moral and material forces which use that mechanism for the realiza- tion of their ends. The French philosopher F&elon, in his advice to the giandson ctf Louis XIV, from which we have quoted before,^ gave an account of the different types of the balance of power. In assessing their respective advantages and weaknesses, he bestowed the highest praise upon the opposition bmveen two equally strong states as the perfect type of ti^ balance cf power. He said: The fourth systan is that a power which is about equal with another and ^(Tdikh bcids the latter in cquil&rium for the sake of the puHic security. To be in such a situation to have no aid)i^on whidt would make you desirous to gjve it up, is indeed the vmm and happiest ^aatfoo for a ^tc. You arc the GonmKm ariiier; aB your ne^^tx^ are your ffiends, and those diat are not make themsdyes by ffjat very fact to all the otters. You do nothing ttet docs not appear to have teen for your neighbors as well as for ywr p€£^. You get longer every day; and you siKxeed, as it is almost mevitaUe “ ' % to have more inner ^rengdi ai^i more you ou|^ to adhere mote ai^l more to you m matntainio^ equiEbriiun and ( 285 ) Politics among Nations the common security. One ought always to remember the evils with which the state has to pay within and without for its great conquests, the fact that these conquests b^r no fruit, the risk which one runs in undertaking them, and, finally, how vain, how useless, how short-lived great empires are and what ravages they cause in falling. Yet since one cannot hope that a power which is superior to all others will IK^ before long abuse that superiority, a wise and just prince should never wish to leave to his successors, who by all appearances arc less moderate than he, the continuous and violent temptation of too pronounced a superiority. For the very good of his successors and his people, he should confine himself to a kind of equality The distribution of power which Fcnelon envisaged distinctly resembles the distribution of power which exists, as we approach the mid-twentieth cen- tury, between the United States and the Soviet Union. It is a potential equi- librium with the preponderance at present on the side of the United States. The beneficial results which the French philosopher contemplated have, how- ever, failed to attend this potential equilibrium between the United States and the Soviet Union, and they do not seem likely to materialize in the fore- seeable future. The reason is to be sought in the character of modern war which, under the impact of nationalistic universalism and modern technology, has undergone far-reaching changes. It is here that we find the fifth and last of the fundamental changes which distinguish the world politics of the mid- twentieth century from the international politics of previous ages. ® loc, at., pp. 349~5o- ( 286 ) CHAPTER XX Total War We have already pointed out that v^ar in our time has become total in four different respects: with respect to (i) the fraaion of the population com- pletely identified in its emotions and convictions with the wars of its nation, (2) the fraction of the population participating in war, (3) the fraction of the population affected by war, and (4) the objective pursued by war. When Fenelon wrote at the beginning of die eighteenth century, war was limited in all these respects and had been so limited since the beginning of the mod- ern state system. Let us take as an extreme example of this type of limited warfare the Italian wars of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. These wars were fought primarily by mercenaries who, their interests being in the main financial, were not eager to die in battle or to invite that risk by killing too many of their enemies. Furthermore, the €ondQUim, the leaders of the contend- ing armies, were not interested in saarifidng their soldiers, for the soldiers constituted their working capital They had invested money in their armies and they wanted them to remain going concerns. Nor did the condottieri want to kill many enemy soldiers, for as prisoners they could be sold for ran- som or hired as soldiers for their own armies, but they could not be put to financial gain after they had been slain. The condottieri were not inter- ested in decisive battles and wars of annihilation, for without a war and with- out an enemy there was no job. In consequence, these Italian wars consisted in good measure in skilled maneuvers and tactical artifices to compel the enemy to give up his positions and retreat, losing prisoners rather than wounded or dead.^ Thus Machiavelfi can report a number erf fifteenth-century 1 ^ ticscriptkwi by Sir Cbarks Omm, A Hismiy the Art of Wmr in the Middle Ages (LoQdoQ: Mctfascs and Coropany, IM^ H, the combatants had no national or religious hatred for eadb and genera^ not evm personal hatred, though some condoitien were ieaikm of o^iers» or had old gn^dges of treachery or insait against them. But the men-at-arms (A each host had prohsd# served h^ a wmctimc$ ^ increased prosperity; a^ ihe peto of to purebase defe^ at a ulatk>ns to arms. In the Sockwd Woild War, the %ure for ^ main belligerents was fe e^pgaded 10 per cent in the ca^ of the United Slat]e%tlie^ Soviet deens^ is ara>UQted for by the Mec foniza rioit in s^^&s, communica^ns, with the iaerease fo size ^wfoch evm M cen^ is still ten times iiiorc tlra ^ quires the paxKfoctive military ested>!idiment is to be hepi %fof.war. & productive ctibrts of at least ^ ddz^ mt nbpdpd ( 292 ) ; . Total War engaged in warfare. Since in the Second World War the armed forces of the great military powers, such as Germany, the Soviet Union, and the United States, exceeded ten million, the numbers of the civilian population supplying each of them with weapons, transportation, communications, clothing, and nourishment must have exceeded one hundred million by a considerable mar- gin. Thus modern war has indeed become war by total populations. 3. WAR AGAINST TOTAL POPULATIONS War has become total not only in the sense of everybody being a prospec- tive participant in war, but also in the sense of everybody being a prospective victim of warfare. The comparative figures of losses in war, unreliable though they are in detail, are eloquent on that point. To take France as the nation which in modern history has been regularly engaged in the great wars of the epoch and to take as example the percentage, computed by decades, of the population of France killed or wounded in war from 1630 to 1919, we find that from 1630 to 1789, the outbreak of the French Revolution, the maximum is 0.58, the minimum 0.01 per cent. In the period from 17^ to 1819, which is roughly the period of the Napoleonic Wars, the figure rises steeply to 1.48, 1.19, 1.54 per cent, respectively, while it sinks in the period from 1820 to 1829, coincident with the revival of dynastic foreign policies, to the all-time low of 0.001. While the figures for the remainder of the nineteenth century fit closely into the general picture presented by the whole period, the figure for the ^c- ond decade of the twentieth century, the period of the First World War, rises to the all-time high of 5.65 per cent. It is also significant that while the whole period from 1630 to 1829 shows only for one decade, 1720-29, no war losses at all, there are five such decades in the nineteenth century alone, the century of colonial expansion. The picture is similar when we consider the figures fenr deaths in military service by centuries. The figures for Great Britain show the typfcd olrve, slumping in the nineteenth century and rising steeply in the twentieth cen- tury. Great Britain had fifteen deaths in military service per thousand deaths for the totsl population in the seventeenth century, fourteen in the eighteenth, six in die ninetjeenth, and forty-dght in the twentieth up to 19^* Tte corre- spt^ding figures for France show a conriefcrabie rise in tl^ eighteenth and no slump in the nineteenth century on acoount ci the interruption erf the pmod of limited warfare by the Napoleonic Wars. The figu^ arc eleven for the seventmiA oeimiry, twenty^cven im the dgj^enth, thir^ for the teenth, and sixty^^^ree for the twci^ieth ^ to 193®“ destructiveness is stffl strikingiy revealed by the fact thc^ in the precedii^ tCTturie^ hy fer the grwdjer part of military losses caused fey &^ases rath^ than fey mined acriem. In consequence, losses unwary aMon have increased idbtrvdiy and ahsolmeiy to an enor- end dfw wars am losses wl^ imBtary aetkm in tie wars of the ^ fee Ettfc itoAt tim the total dvifian losses due - ( 293 ) Politics among Nations to military action in the Second World War surpass the total military losses. The number of civilians killed by the Germans through measures of deliber- ate extermination alone are estimated at close to twelve million. The French record of 5.63 per cent of the total population killed or wounded in the First World War has not even been approximated by France in the Second World War because of the relatively minor role it played in the military operations. But that record has been left far behind by the Soviet Union which must have lost during the Second World War in killed and wounded close to 10 per cent of the total population, that is, almost double the percentage of the French losses in the First World War.® Thus the trend toward an enormous increase in the destructiveness of modern war, to which the figures for the First World War testify, has continued in the Second at an accelerated pace. The invention of new destructive methods of warfare, cither not used at all in the preceding world wars, such as bacteriological warfare, or used only on a small scale, such as poison gas, guided missiles, and atomic bombs, seems to insure a continuation and further acceleration of that trend. 4. THE MECHANIZATION OF WARFARE The enormously increased destructiveness of twentieth-century warfare, for combatants and civilians alike, is the result of the mechanization of war- fare. Its effects in this respect are twofold: the ability to eliminate an unprece- dented nmdber of enemies through one single operation or the accelerated muldpk operation of a weapon, and the ability to do so over long distances. Both developments started in the fourteenth century with the invention of gunpowder and its use for artillery. But it was only in the late nineteenth century that these developments were speeded up to a considerable extent, and only our time has witnessed such an enormous acceleration of these trends as £0 amount to a revolution in ttre technology of war. The extreme slowness these developments in the first six centuries of their history and the extreme rapidity in the seventh is illustrated by the his- liory of artiUery. The guns with whidh the Turks besieg^ Constantinople in 1^3 could fine bullets weighing hundred pounds at a range of a mile, thw rate of fine seven roui^ per day and one per night In 1650 a cannon carrying a nme-poiiiHl shot had a pmnt blank range of 175 yards, while two hundred years the same range of an English nine-pounder was 300 yards. At the end of the eighteenth century, artillery was stffl n^arded in most oountries, with the one notable exception of France, as a subof^eSna^ and acmnewhat imbecoming weapon with which a gentleinan would taihar hmc nothing to do. Even Fredericic the Great asked con- was valuaUe about artillery, and what art thore was in shoodng Yec^ only a few decades later, Napoleon anild say: Tit is with * As to die oMitoa^ctory %ufes of ^ Roste losses, sc© JDcKier Ihpid^ InSerwst Ytars of IL and 1945. C. A. 8), p. 69, noto 24, p. 70^ mm Smmtac ^ 44; (1947), P* 55 ^* Tile tsdisitto ws^ H die Ifi taes e sotirces. , ( 294 ) Total War the artillery that war is made,’^ and it has been estimated that in the century following this remark the efficiency of artillery increased ten times. The low esteem of the most potent and, together with the musket, lone representative of the mechanization of warfare remained traditional in the Prussian Army, In the eighteenth century, this contempt may not have been altogether without justification in view of the extreme slowness of loading, the inaccuracy of the aim, and the limited range (a maximum of 2,000 yards). But the nineteenth century witnessed a progress in the rapidity of fire and the range of firearms which foreshadowed the revolution of the twentieth. While, for instance, in 1850 the number of bullets fired by a smooth 4 x)re muzzle loader by a thousand men in one minute was 500 and their range about the same as it had been for the musket of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eight- eenth centuries, that is, less than 300 yards, the corresponding figures for the needle gun are 1,000 rounds and 2,200 yards; for the model 1866, 2,000 rounds and 2,700 yards; for the model 1886, 6,000 rounds and 3,800 yards; and for the repeating rifle with charger in 1913, 10,000 rounds and 4400 yards. Between 1850 and 1913, the rapidity of fire had increased twentyfold and the range expanded sixteen times. Yet today we have machine guns which fire 1,000 rounds a minute, making 1,000,000 for a thousand men where there were only 10,000 in J913, and even semiautomatic shoulder rifles, such as the Garand, are able to fire 100 aimed rounds per minute, that is, ten times more than the fastest small arms in 1913. How great the progress made in this respect was between 1850 and 1913, and how overwhelming between 1913 and 1938, becomes apparent from a com- parison with the slow progress made between 1550 and 1850. In the mid- sixteenth century, the range of the hand cannon was about one hundred yards, and one round in two minutes was about the best rate of fire attainable. While in the First World War the maximum range of heavy artillery — with great inaccuracy in aim and excessive wear on the gun whidi was worn out after a maximum of thirty rounds — did not exceed 76 miles (attaic^ only by the Ger- man forty-two centimeter guns), at tl^ memwnt of this writing guiect a revniutiah ( 296 ) Total War one which the machine gun had brought about a few decades earlier. A few men dropping one atomic bomb at the end of the Second World War disabled well over a hundred thousand of the enemy. With atomic bombs in- creasing in potency and the defense remaining as powerless as it is now, the number of the prospective victims of one atomic bomb, dropped over a densely populated region, will be counted in the millions. The potentialities for mass destruction inherent in baacriological warfare exceed even those of an improved atomic bomb in that one or a few strategically placed units of bacteriological material can easily create epidemics aSlecting an tmlimited number of people. However, weapons capable of destroying millions of people anywhere on earth can do no more than that and are to that extent a mere negative ele- ment in the scheme of things military and political. They may be able to break the will of the enemy to resist for the time being; but by themselves they cannot conquer and keep what has been conquer< 5 . To reap the fruits of total war and transform them into permanent polidcal gains requires the mechanization of transport and communications. Nowhere, indeed, has mechanical progress in the last decades been more staggering than with regard to the ease and speed of transport and communi- cations. It can safely be said that the progress achieved in this respect during the first half of the twentieth century is greater than the progress in all of pre- vious history. It has been remarked that the thirteen days which it took Sir Robert Peel in 1834 to hurry from Rome to London in order to be present at a cabinet meeting were exaedy identical with the travel time allowed to a Roman official for the same journey seventeen centuries earlier. The best travel speed on land and sea throughout recorded history to close to the middle of the nineteenth century was ten miles an hour, a speed rarely attained on land. In the early twentieth century, railroads had increased the speed of travel by land to sixty-five miles an hour on the fastest train, six and a half times i^ffiat it had been throughout history. Steamships had ^xeded tqj travel by sea to thirty-six miles an hour, three and a half times the maximtim. Today the maximum sp^ of the airplane, at which travd uu^ be pos^ide under qptimtim conditions, is cl^ to six hundred miks pex hour, that Is, ten and twenty times, re^>ectively, mote than die best travel ^>eed dxxit four decades ag^ and sixty times mme than it was a little more than a century ago. In 1790, it todc four days in the best season to go hnom Bosten to New York, a d^a^^e sennewhat exceeding two hundred mSes. Today the stune time is strfBci^ ieat cudir^ the giob^ re^nfSess of season. In terms oi travd Moscow k as close to Yod^ as Pldad^dua vras a century lined till: Thkte^ States vrfdihs hamded the United States ai Amerhst. Mow tiiis devdbpoK^ has b^ e^tecialiy in the hst few psRs, far hdtind the expectations emi of e^iert observers, is strik- pusEpeted -queation which Professor Staley adted in 1939 while ‘ * ’ * which: we sue here ooBceraedj *Ts tl^ hun- : p^ssea^x tiuB^ort speed within twenty- < 297 ) Politics among Nations five years?” Only nine years later the cruising speed of the fastest passenger plane exceeds four hundred miles an hour. The significance of mechanical progress for travel, that is, transportation of persons, is virtually identical with its significance for transportation of goods, the mechanical means in both cases being virtually identical. The only difference might be found in the even greater rapidity of the mechanical de- velopment of the land-transport of goods because of its lower starting point. Whik today goods can be as speedily transported as persons, with the excep- tion of the heaviest goods at maximum speeds, before the invention of the railroad the limitations of space and of power imposed greater limitations upon the speed of the land-transport of gocnls than of persons. Thus the intro- duction of railroads in Germany before the middle of the nineteenth century increased the speed of the transportation of goods eight times, while the cor- responding increase for persons was hardly more than fivefold. The corresponding development is, however, incomparably more rapid in the field of oral and written communications. Here mechanical progress has far outstripped the one in transportation of persons and goods. Before the invention in the nineteenth century of the telegraph, the telephone, and the undersea cable, the speed of the transmission of oral or written communica- tions was identical with the speed of travel. That is to say, the only way to transmit such communications, aside from visible signals, was by the usual means of transportation. These inventions reduced the speed needed for the transmission of such a>mmunications from what had been formerly days and weeks to hours. Radio and television have made the transmission instantane- ous with the utterance. 5* WAR FOR TOTAL STAKES These mechanical developments make the conquest of the world tech- nically possible, and tl^y m^e it technically possibk to keep the world in that conquered ^ate. It is true that there have been great empires before. The Macedonian Empre ^retdicd from the Adrisme to the Indus, the Roman horn the British Isks to the Caucasus, and Napokon’s ccmquests from the herders of GSmahar to hfc^oow. Yet these great empires either did not kst CMT they Imed only because of m ovcrwtfcelming differential in civilization, tedbikdi and otharwisei, in favor of the ruling power as over against the sub- jlect peoples. The expansion of die Rosmn Empxe illusdrates tl^ point. Many of ils mmss tspmmm into potiticaliy empty ^)aces rather than the first-rank amnp&mms. The other empires, however, could not; last and far short of esp^uering all of the known pdlitkal world because ihef were kicking in tiiose ledmokgical resotntes necessary f<^ the subjugation ai^ amtjtol of gieat masses of peqpk dispersai over wide expanses of territory. The teduK^o^cai prerequirites for a ^tok worldwide em^e are es- sentially three in ntinsdi^: {i) ^frreed social integrarimi throo^ cenfral- Eugene Staley, WorU 'Bcomomy m Yofk: Couac^ on Foi^^ I939)>P- 13 - ( 298 ) Total War ized control over the minds o£ the subjects of the empire, (2) superior organ- ized force at any point of possible disintegration within the empire, and (3) permanency and ubiquity of these means of control and enforcement throughout the empire. None of these three military and political prerequi- sites has been achieved in the past, yet they are within the reach of our time. Then the means of communication were nonmcchanical or, where me- chanical, they were strictly individualized and, hence, decentralized. News and ideas could be transmitted only by word of mouth, by letters, or through the printing press which one individual could operate in his home. In this field, then, the would-be conqueror of the world had to compete on an ap- proximately equal footing with an unlimited number of rivals- He could put his rivals into prison or condemn them to death if he was able to identify and apprehend them. But he could not smother their voices through a monopoly or near-monopoly of the collection and dissemination of news, of press, radio, and moving picture. Nineteen centuries ago, St. Paul could go from city to city and write letters to the Corinthians and Romans, spreading the gospel, which was about all that the representatives of the religion of the Roman Empire could do, and when he was executed he left thousands of disciples doing what he had done in ever more effective and widespread competition with the representatives of the state. What could St. Paul do in the world empire of tomorrow without a newspaper or magazine to print his messages, without a radio network to carry his sermons, without newsreel and tele- vision to keep his likeness before the public, probably without a post office to transmit his letters, and certainly without a permit to cross state lines? The means of violence, as we have already pointed out, were in former times largely nonmechanical and always individualized and decentralized. Here, too, the would-be founder of a world empire met his future subjects, barring superior organization and training, on a foc^g of approximate equal- ity. Either side had virtually the same weapons with which to cut, to thrust, and to shoot. The conqueror, in order to maintain his empire, would have had to achieve the impossible by establidbing everywhere aoual supericMrity of organized force agsdnst all possible oppements. Thus the inhalritants erf Madrid could on May 3, 1808, raise against the FroKh conqueror the mx arms which the latter had at his dispel and drive him from the dty. Today the govern- ment of a world empire, appraised of a similar situatioa by radio, would send within a lew hours a .squadron ctf bombers and a s is true d[ the printing of newspapers from the feeding of the empty pulp into the nasdhiiie to tlK emergence of the folded end-product TI^ manufacture c£ raytm and silk, dE steel and automobiles^ the production and canning erf food, especially the processing of flour, have been mechanized with effects the increase in productivity and the dis- placement of muscular labor. While, owing to the small degree of mechaniza- ^ mi Wenid ¥omer < 8 & td.; Ixmdcm: Uid;?ersity of Loodoti Press, 7941 ), pp. by permi^skMi of dx pd^lssber.) ( 303 ) Politics among Nations tion in many productive processes, the over-all results of mechanization are considerably less impressive than these most spectacular examples would in- dicate, the trend is so general and so radical in some of the most important fields of production as to amount to a revolution — the greatest in recorded history — of the productive processes of mankind. It is this revolution in the productive processes of the modern age which has made total war and world-wide dominion possible. Before its advent war was bound to be limited in its technological aspects. The productivity of a nation was not sufficient to feed, clothe, and house its members and to keep large armies supplied with the implements of war for any length of time. More particularly, national economies operated on so narrow a margin above the mere subsistence level that it was impossible to increase to any appreciable extent the share of the armed forces in the national product without endan- gering the very existence of the nation. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, it was not at all unusual for a government to spend as much as, or more than, two-thirds of the national budget for military purposes. A few times during that period military expenses consumed more than 90 per cent of the total outlay of the government. Military expenditures had, of course, precedence over all others, and the national product was too small to be taxed extensively for other purposes. Thus it was not by accident that before the nineteenth century all attempts at universal military service failed, for in the interest of keeping nationd production going, the productive classes of the population had to be exempt from military service. Only the scum which was unable to engage in productive enterprises and the nobility which was un- willing to engage in them could safely be conscripted. The Indust^ Revolution and, more particularly, the mechanization of agricultural and industrial processes in the twentieth century have had a triple effect upon the character of war and of international politics. They have in- creased the tc^ productivity of the great industrial nations enormously. They have, furthermore, reduced drastically the relative share of human labor in the productive processes. They have, fin^y, together with the new techniques in medicine and hygiene, brought about an xmprecedented increase in the popu- latk»Eis of all nations- The increase in productivity thus achieved exceeds by far the incre^ed efemands upon the national product caused by the higher stands o£ and greato number of consumers. Excess in produc- new puprposes and it can be gxiided into the channels of vw.. Tim the machine and much of the human p was sdfl absoih^ in the business of m nniitaiy pwposes, either directly by Jpr war ts energy only* eoerpr opoiwy airf a ^ kcep^'' 11^' fee The xrmimm of keeping oiie^s elements and kom c of keeping one^s froin the elements and kom and ^ sdB absorbed mo^ c£ the vital cMrgies fe fe^ -prowled m€^,men with an amount of Insure wbkh pa^ energies which have gone inm ( 3mmk>n. In the of Plixjfessor Nef: ^*Oiice tbc natioa» £omid tssQes wMcii they were prepared to qoanid over, windi k was p<^^}le to persoade tiie at^&asry maa to Se for, there no aBythingr inherent in material ooothtioits, to bold them bode, or to cbmn the passioQs of thdr leadois,’* ^Xkmteid Warfare and the Progress of ^ztopean CSv Sfe a ^t oo, 1640-1740,’* Tie of PoBtkf^ VI (Inly, i 944 h 3*4- ( 305 ) PART EIGHT THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY: PEACE THROUGH LIMITATION CHAPTER XXI Disarmament I. THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN OUR TIME Two^worji^a^^ a generation and the poten t ia l ities of farThave-made tfie StaBGst imen^ nf intffrnatinnal order,^nd the pj^^a- finn 9 f infernatinp al peace the paramount epneern oi , Weste|ri;i d vitot i o i L War has always been abhorred as a scourge. As the rise of the territorial state transformed the Holy Roman Empire from the actual political organization of Christendom into an empty shell and a legal fiction, writers and statesnaen reflected more and more on substitutes for the lost political unity of the West- ern World. Erasmus in the sixteenth century, Sully, fimeric Crucc, Hugo Grotius, and William Penn in the seventeenth, the Abbe dc Saint-Pierre, R^ySSfiajtu Bentham, and Kant i n the eighteenth were the great intellectual l^^mmners of the practical attempts to solve the problems of international order and international peace, which were undertaken in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. the H jyly A,!^i a nce^ the and iqo 7. t h e Ly^pe of Nations, and tl:]tc Um55 arc s tanding organizations and conterences, togetiSer with other less speSacuiar en&ravors to shape a pe^i^ful world, were msdc possible by four farfnrj; inteUe^ p oliticai - — sta rte^,^ converge at thel^gmiung cA the nincteenm century culininateci in tJbc theory and practice of i^madonal aflfeirs prevafcnt in the period between the two world wars, Since the time of the Stcics and the early Qurisdans, there has been aBve in We^em civilizatmn a feeling for the moral unity mankind which strives to find a political organization oommensur^ with iL The Roman Empire was such a political c^g^uzadoa erf universal soc^ After its downfall, the Roman Em|»re raonained through^mt the a^s a synrfjolic reminder of die unity of the 'Western Wmid aiRl the ufeimate goal and ^andard which in- ^Hied np ImtJfea Napcfecm ai^ detOTuined the policies of the Holy RbwPi Inp^rc until the b^nnii^ of the religiom wars. It is not hy agSekilt ^ on the instigatkm <£ France, twice ai^roadbed die Prusrian govemment c^i the questiem of the reduction ^ vmt a fm local In liie disliteentii century. ( 3TCI ) Politics among Nations 1,67:1.67 ratio for the capital ships of the British Empire, the United States, Japan, France, and Italy, The Washington Conference, however, failed to produce agreement with regard to any naval craft other than capital ships, such as cniisers, destroyers, and submarines. The Geneva Naval Conference of 1927, attended only by Great Britain, Japan, and the United States, likewise failed to reach agreement on this issue. Finally, at the London Naval Conference of 1930, the United States, Great Britain, and Japan agreed upon parity between the United States and Great Britain for cruisers, destroyers, and submarines, with Japan limited to approxi- mately two-thirds of the American and British strength in these categories. France and Italy did not accede to the Treaty, since Italy demanded parity with France, which France refused to concede. In Etecember 1934, Japan served formal notice of its intention to terminate the Washington Treaty of 1922. It submitted to the London Naval Conference of 1935-36 a demand for parity in all categories of naval armament. This demand was rejected by the United States and Great Britain. In consequence Japan retook its freedom of action. The only result of the Conference which had any bearing upon the size of naval armaments was an agreement among the United States, Great Britain, and France, adhered to by Germany and the Soviet Union in 1937, which limited the maximum size of naval vessels, pro- vided that no other nation exceeded that maximum. A separate Anglo- German agreement, concluded in 1935, limited German total naval strength to 35 per cent of the British and allowed Germany a strength in submarines equal to that of the British Empire, provided that the total submarine ton- nage of Germany remained within the 35 per cent limit. FOUR PROBLEMS OF DISARMAMENT This reccard, long in failures and short in successes, raises four fxmda- mental questions. Success or failure of any particular attempt at disarmament ^pend upon the answers which can be given to these que^ons: (a) r *‘hr rhn rM ^ent fell mat is Ae to w Mdh, dm ratio, differed; ‘ r ^ feo te fco difi^rent nations? order mkd peabe? a) TheRsm Armaments and dut race are a mMiifestatioci — and pne (rf the most impc«rtant manifcstatioiis— the struggle for on the interna- tional scene. From this fundamenm! fact all the technical argumeats^ po- posals, counterproposals, and witib regard to di^mament receive their significance. Naricm they want eitl^ tp defend d^m^ives against other nations or beicaiise they want to att;s^. All ( 314 ) Disarmament politically active nations are by definition engaged in a competition for power of which armaments are an indispensable element. Thus all politically active nations must be intent upon acquiring as much power as they can, that is, among other things, upon being as well armed as they can. Nation A which feels inferior in armaments to nation B must seek to become at least the equal of B and if possible to surpass B. On the other hand, nation B must seek at least to keep its advantage over A if not to increase it. Such are, as we have seen,^^ the inevitable effects of the balance of power in the field of armaments. What is at stake in the armaments race between A and B is the ratio of the armaments of both nations. Shall A and B be equal in armaments, or shall A be superior to B, or vice versa, and if so, to what extent? This question is necessarily first on the agenda of disarmament commissions and conferences. It can find a satisfactory answer only under three alternative conditions: (a) t^ nations concerned do not engage in competition for power with othgL naj:io nsy ~(fi) ' ^^ of nations have such a preponoeSH^S*^ anotbjer j iatio^ 01: that„tbey .^e able to impose u {^n th e latter a ratio fayssrabk^tcriii^^ (c) two or more. v^tsygeOT^^fcr the time beings engage in regulated rather than free com- pe^fion f or pnwet: antlro. enter intp an armaments race within agreed-upon hm 1 fh^n inn> a wild .scramble for increases in military strength. It is obvious that these alternatives are likely to rhaterialize only under the conditions of local disarmament. For only under such conditions is the com- petition for power likely either to be eliminated altogether or to be trans- formed into a regulated, relatively stable pattern which is reflected in the ratio of armaments. The few successful ventures into disarmament have actually all been of the local kind. The Rush-Bago y Agreement, th^Washington Treaty, A'Nn A^gi^ O ppman NAVATr^o^-\^NrT r claSsll LAiUiiplL uf piLtUTTl (a) is the Rush- Bagot Agreement i^etween the United States and Canada. In the relations of the two countries there is virtually no chance for a competition for power which noight transform itself into an armed quest for each other s territory. This absence of the possibility of armed conflict has made the thirty-eight hundred miles of Canadian-American frontier the longest unarmed frontier of the world. It also constitutes the political precondition for the permanent success of naval disarmament on the Great L^es. Thi?.. Treaty nf my prnvides_an example of Pattern (a) with ta thfn rilnt i irnrf fivamplfi pfittnpn fh) r’ith regard to the relations between the United States and Great Britain, on the one hand, and Japan, on the other. The United States sought parity with Great Britain in battleship strength. It was bound to achieve that parity because of its superior and militarily un- committed industrial resources. The only question was whether it would achieve parity by way of bitter and costly competition or by way of mutiml agreement. Since there was no political conflict between the two countries which would have justified such competition, the two countries agreed upon a practically identical maximum tonnage for the battleships of both. ‘ See above, 136, 137. ( 315 ) Politics among Nations Furthermore, the First World War had made Japan the preponderant naval power in the Far East, thus threatening the interests of the United States and Great Britain in that region and inviting them to a naval arma- ments race. Such a race, however, the United States, for financial and psycho- logical reason^ was anxious to avoid. Great Britain, on the other hand, was tied to Japan by a military alliance. More particularly, the British dominions dreaded the possibility of finding themselves on the Japanese side in the event of a conflict between Japan and the United States. Thus Great Britain and the United States not only were not separated by political conflicts which might lead to war; they had also an identical interest in avoiding an arma- ments race with Japan. By dissolving the alliance with Japan and agreeing to parity with the United States on a level it could afford, Great Britain solved its politico-military problems in the field of naval armaments. By separating Great Britain from Japan and reaching parity with Great Britain cheaply, the United States, too, obtained what it wanted in that field. This understanding between the United States and Great Britain not only isolated Japan but placed it at the same time in a position of hopeless inferi- ority with regard to heavy naval armaments. Instead of embarking upon a ruinous armaments race which it had no chance of winning, Japan made the best of an unfavorable and humiliating situation: it accepted its status of inferiority for the time being and agreed upon stabilizing this inferiority at the ratio mentioned above. When the Anglo-American reaction to Japan's invasbn of China at the beginning of the thirties showed that the united front of Great Britain and die United States with regard to the Far East, which had made the Washington Treaty of 1922 possible, no longer existed, Japan at once freed itself from the shackles of that treaty. As far as the Japa- nese position vis-a-vis the Anglo-American naval supremacy was concerned, the (fisarmament provisions of the Washington Treaty were the product of a peculiar political situation. These provisions could not survive the political conditions which had created them. (ff) A is a jaslance. At dbat rime the breakdown ct tl^ WorWi-^^rmamcaL dMtfeTence the pcjkies df the German goveramoit demonstrate tl^ unshakable to ^tain what it call^ ^'equality’’ with lb idbbn .to Grs^t l^tain rearmament was as firmly naval armamenis. For such policies would brlbive Ae lisk of at ieas^ of an uiiieoMrolIed armaments face with Gexmwy wouid in any strengthen French and Russian in- fluence in Europe at the es^p^asedEGenmny* In s^ich dreumsmnees the ques- tion before dbe g^msmamt was not how m pmoat tto naval leannamcnt of Oesfinalty, bit how m peserve British in the face of it, withenn imposing Briiam an piogram. ccH 33 pIementary interests of Grest ( 31^ ) Disarmament German naval strength, in terms of tonnage, at a safe distance. In case of need it could even have increased that distance by increasing its own tonnage to such an extent and at such speed as to make it impossible for Germany with its belated start and committed resources ever to reach the agreed-upon maxi- mum of 35 per cent of the British tonnage. Germany received the recognition of its right to rearm within limits which, in view of its resources and other military commitments, it would in no event have been able to exceed in the immediate future. More particularly, the agreement gave Germany parity in submarines, the one naval weapon which, in view of its strategic position, was the natural means of attack and defense against a navy whose superiority in over-all tonnage and battleship strength was beyond challenge. In the spring of 1939, it had become unmistakably clear that Great Britain and Ger- many had entered upon an out-and-out armaments race in preparation for an inevitably approaching war. It was only in keeping with this change in the political situation that Germany, in April 1939, denounced the Agreement of 1935 and resumed in law the freedom of action which its politied objectives had already compelled it to resume in fact. It will be noted that in all these cases disarmament was agreed upon by two nations or a limited number of nations and was, therefore, of a local char- acter- It will also be noted that the agreed-upon ratio reflected either the ab- sence of competition for power, or die preponderance, unchallengeable for the time being, of one or more nations over another, or a temporary preference on either side for regulated rather than unregulated competition for power in the form of competition for armaments. What, then, are the chances for agreement upon a ratio of armaments to be reached when most or all the major powers are seeking general disarma- ment, while at the same time pursuing their contests for power? To put it bluntly, the chances are nil. All attempts at general disarmament, such as the two Hague Conferences, the G eneva Co nfer ence of 1022. d^ ,^ inent'TtyitnxiIuoiuiis u£ dVC'TTftkgarrjauons. as well as most of the local und^- tefcngs lasf rpnninz_anA-3..hAlf_iiaYf nf ^Tfanfirl nrimadly nf ^ortcomings in p repara tion and personnel or of bad luc^ > _Thev could not Tiave suttccUfd tiV'^h under die most iavorablc arcumstances; for the contin- uation of the contest for power among the nations concerned made agreement upon the ratio of armaments impossible. Two examples will serve to illus- trate this statement: the controversies between France and Germany at the World JXsarmament Conference of 1932, and the conflict between the United^^s^d the So viet Union in the' UjiitaiwifeT^^ Energy Disarmament Conyeresce and the United Nations Com- missions. The First World War maefc France the preponderant military power in Europe and in the world. It left Germany so thoroughly disarmed a$ to im;;apaatate it for war with any jfirst-rate military power, let alone with pratree. istribudon of power persisted in principle, however modified by ihe secret ^e^mament of Germany and the increasing technological and strategic ear. The only probable effect of such a prthilntion on war would be the limited and primitive char- ader of its be^nning. The armair^ts race among hostile nations would rimfjy be podponed to die beginning of ho^tfes instead of preceding and cuhniarin® m it* Tl^ (fccIaxatkH:i war would then be the signal for the warrii^ nations to marshal their human and material resources and, more particularly, theh lecfaiK^og^cal skills frxe the speedy manufacture of all the impicn^ts war whkh tecfanok^^kai makes fearibie. It is ij&deed possible to c^itlaw the atomic bomb; but it is not |X)ssible to cnidaw the tedmok)gicaI iaM>wlecige and aMhty to create atomic b^bs. It is this olwious reason that the prcluiitic^ of particular we^xms im been effective in war. Tlik has beto ( 328 ) Disarmament weight projectiles charged with explosives or inflammable substances, of the bombing of civilians from airplanes, and of unlimited submarine warfare.^^ Victory is the paramount concern of warring nations- Th^y certam rules of tdtrdtret with regard to the victims^pf^warfare; they wfll not forego .use of all the weapons which their technqlpgy js able to produce. The observance c3r the prohibition of the use of poison gas in the Second World War is but an apparent exception. All the major belligerents manu- factured poison gas; they trained troops in its use and in defenses against it and were prepared to use it if such use would seem to be advantageous. Only considerations of military expediency deterred all belligerents from making use of a weapon of which they had all availed themselves with the intention to use it if necessary. That quantitative and qualitative disarmament affects the technology and strategy, but not the incidence of war, is clearly demonstrated by the results of the disarmament which was imposed upon Germany by the Treaty of Versailles. This disarmament was quantitative as well as qualitative and so thorough as to make it impossible for Germany to wage again a war similar in kind to the First World War. If this had been the purpose it was fully realized. If the purpose, however, was to incapacitate Germany forever to wage war of any kind — and this was the actual purpose — the disarmament provisions of the Treaty of Versailles were a spectacular failure. They forced the German General Staff to part with the methods of warfare prevalent in the First World War and to turn their ingenuity to new methods not pro- hibited by the Treaty of Versailles because they were not widely tiscd or not used at all during the First World War. Thus the Treaty of Versaillff — far" from depriving Germany of the ability to^^ge war agMS'^’^^^^ irtu com - ^eaTrtrinahy W pWparc tor ffie Wjar inst^ tnr a rf^pfiifinn nr r be f 'irst World W ar. Disarma ment in tcri ^ 9 ! nology im d strateg y ot me first World 'War, thetC:^jfcr.j£^ TOny „. act ually a Diessipg m disguise. JJ i sarmamenFniaae it v^^ rtmlly inmitnnlr far Grrminy to refashion its m inSry poJic^^jjeag the p ast- ' It te^^owever, been suggested that, while disarmament could not by itself abolish war, it could to a great degree lessen the political tensions which might easily lead to war. More particularly, the unregulated armaments race with the fears it causes and the ever increasing financial burdens it imposes is apt to lead to such an intolerable situation that all or some parties to the race will prefer its termination by whatever means, even at the risk of war, to its indefinite continuation. Disarman^nt or at least regulation of armaments is an indispensable step in a general settlement of international conflicts. It can, however, not be the first step. Competition for armaments reflects, and is an instrument of, com- petition for power. &) long as nations advance contradictory claims in the contest for power, they are forced by the very logic of the power contest to advance contracfictory claims for armaments. Therefore, a mutually satisi^c- iT treaties, sec above, 178 215. ( 329 ) Politics among Nations tory settlement of the power contest is a precondition for disarmament. Once the nations concerned have agreed upon a mutually satisfactory distribution of power among themselves, they can then afford to reduce and limit their armaments. I>iKirmament, in turn, will contribute greatly to the general pacification. For the degree to which the nations can come to terms upon dis- armament will be the measure of the political understanding which they were able to achieve. Ehsarmament, no less than the armaments race, is the reflection of the pnwrr rrlatiftno nmnng rhr nations concerned. Disarmament, no less than the arm^ents -taiy^eacty upon ptiwer rHations from wHch it arose. the armaments race aggravates the struggle for power through the fear i t g en- wamrMtTnr^urd eaa it itn poses. so disarmameat cQatr.ihut£SJa.th e im prove- rnffint nf <»hi« pwlitini ntiiatiftn Hffe ning poli tical tensiQ as.aodJE .Coating confidence in the p urpo ses of the nations-~i^'uch is the contribmion which r an~m^ e to the establishmen t of int ernational or der and " t he pre se rvatio n of inrema nohaT peaceTlt is aff i mnorfapt contributTon, b ut it is dbviouslv not the sol ution of Se^iohlems ot international order and” ( 330 ) CHAPTER XXII Security The more thoughtful observers have realized that the solution for the prob- lem of disarmament does not lie within disarmament itself. Th ey have it in sccLyitv^ Armaments are the result of certain psycholo^^T^actorsT^o Tong as 'these factors persist, the resolution of nations to arm themselves will also persist, and that resolution will make disarmament impossible. The gen- erally professed and most frequent actual motive for armaments is fear of attack, that is, a feeling of insecurity. Hence, it has been argued that what is needed is ,to make nations actually secure from attack by some new device and thus to give them a feeling of security. The motive force and the actual need for armaments would then disappear; for nations would find in that new device the security which they had formerly sought in armaments. Since the end of the First World War, t wo such devices have been np nin bf- all TOhtia^ )J[y, of the "world: coilectivejsamEO^A.a^^ tidnai I. COLLECTIVE SECURITY We have already discussed the legal aspects of the problem of collective security as it has presented itself in Article i6 of the Covenant of the League of Nations and in Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations.^ It re- mains for us now to consider the political problems to which collective se- curity gives rise, with special reference to the problem of international order and peace. In a working system of collective security the problem of security is no longer the concern of the individual nation to be taken care of by armaments and other elements of national power. Security becomes the concern of all nations which will take care coUectively of the security of each of them as though their own security were threatened. If A threatens B’s security, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, and K will take measures on behalf of B and against A as though A thre^ened them as well as B, and vice versa.^ for erne is the watchword of ( * *- ^ See ab^ve, pp. 232 2 See tfee diagram below, p. 334. ( 331 ) Politics among Nations We have already pointed out that the logic o£ collective security is flaw- less, provided it can he made to work under the conditions prevailing on the international scene.* For collective security to operate as a device for the pre- vention of war, three assumptions must be fulfilled: (i) the collective system must 1^ at all times such overwhelming strength ag^^t any or coalition of aggressors that the latter would never dare tg xbalkpp the order d efouded by the system; (2) at least those meet the requirement under (i) must have i-V of Security which they arc supposed to de- £enjl£ jf3) Jiosc nations must be willing to subordinate whatever conflicting '"political interests may still separate them to the common good defined in terms of the collective defense of all member states. ■""It IS conceivaBle'^that alTth^ assumptions may be realized in a particular situation. The odds, however, are strongly against such a possibility. There is nothing in past experience and in the general nature of international politics to suggest that such a situation is likely to occur. It is indeed true that under present conditions of warfare, no less than under those of the past, no single country is strong enough to defy a combination of all the other nations with any chance for success. Yet it is extremely unlikely that in an actual situation only one single country would be found in the position of the aggressor. Gen- erally, more than one country will actively oppose the order which collective security tries to defend, and other coimtries will be in sympathy with that qppemtion. The reason for this situation is to be sought in the character of the order defended by collective security. That order is of necessity the status quo as it exi^ at a particular moment. Thus the collective security of the L^gue of Nations aimed necessarily at the preservation of the territorial status quo as it existed when the League of Nations was established in 1919. However, th^e were already in 1919 a number of nations strongly opposed to that terri- torial status quo — the nations defeated in the First World War as well as Italy which felt itself despoiled of some the promised fruits of victory. Other nations, such as the United Sta^ and the Soviet Union, were at best indiflFeient toward the status quo. Fear France and its allies, who were the main beneficiaries of the st^us quo of 1919 and mo^ anxious to defend it by means of oofibetive security, security meant the defend of the frontiers as they had been estabfished by the peace treaties of 1919 and the perpetuation of ihrir ptedosmnanoe osed to it k lEiot: at all ped&r to the period alter the First Wmrld War. It is, as we know, the pattom of international politico As such it recurs in all periods of hkn^. Thrc^i^ tiie between status quo and imparialikkimionskpmvkiestiiedyiiamkaof theystoriej^oces^ antagonism is either resoived in oon^Homise or in vW- OnJyHuncfer as- sumption that the for m the of * See abave> p. 232. ( 332 ) Security politics might subside or be superseded by a higher principle can collective security have a chance for success. Since, however, nothing in the reality of international affairs corresponds to that assumption, th e attemp t- ^h^ partkuUi:.iU;aJLU^ by m eans of collective security is uillie long run jdoom^ to.failwe. In the short run cdnective'seciIilry'TlLiay^ a particular status c|uo because of the t em por^ryjiv^^ ness of the opponents. Its failure long run, under t he ass^pticm oFco h^ ^ flictigg^int^ is due to the^sence orthe third assumption upon which we have predicated the success of collective sccurity. In the light of historic experience and the actual nature of international politics, we must assume that conflicts of interest will continue on the inter- national scene. Collective security, then, can succeed only on the further as- sumption that all or virtually all nations will come to the defense of the status quo, threatened ii]LjiijS .security.jaf^,^ regardless of whether they could justify stich a policy in view of their pwn in dividual intere sts. » In other words, what coIIecEve '‘security demands of the individual nSons is to forsake national egotisms and the national policies security expects the pojic ie£^9£ natigos to'lsrtepired by the ideal of mutual assisfan^and a spuit jof^self-sacriflce wlucE will not shrink even from the supreme sacrifice of war should it be reqmredTby th at ideal Hence, this third assumption is really tantamount to the assumption of a moral revolution infinitely more fundamental than any moral change that has occurred in the history of Western civilization. It is a moral revolution not only in the actions of statesmen representing their countries, but also in the actions of plain citizens. Not only are the latter expected to support national policies which are at times bound to run counter to the interests of the nation, they are also expected to be ready to lay down their lives for the security of any country anywhere on the globe. It can be maintained that if men every- where would feel and act that way the lives of all men would be forever secure. The truth of the conclusion is as much beyond dispute as the hypo- thetical character of the premise. Men generally do not feel and act, either as individuals among themselves or as members of their nations with regard to other nations, as they ought to feel and act if collective security is to succeed under the conditions of inter- national politics as they are. And there is, as we have tried to show,^ less chance today than there has been at any time in modern history that they would act in conformity with moral precepts of a supranational character if such action might be detrimental to the interests of their respective countries. In his relations with other individuals within the national society, the indi- vidual will give up the pursuit of his egotistic ends only under the threat of severe punishment or under the overwhelming moral and social pressure gKierated by war or other national emergencies of a spectacular character. Thexe is rm law-enfordng agency above the individual nations and there are no overwhelming moral and soc^ pressures to which they could be sub- jected T%us ffiey are bound always to pursue what they regard to be their ( 333 ) Politics among Nations own national interests. Conflicts between national and supranational interests and morality are inevitable at least for some nations under any conceivable conditions which might call for the realization of collective security. Those nations cannot help resolving such a conflict in favor of their own individual interests and thus paralyzing the operations of the collective system. In the light of this discussion, we must conclude that collective security cannot be made to work in the contemporary world as it must work accord- ing to its ideal assumptions. Yet it is the supreme paradox of collective security THE IDEAL OF COLLECTIVE SECUjEUTY that any attempt to make it work with less than ideal perfection will have the opfxjate effect from what it is suppo^d to achieve. It is the purpose of coikedve security to make war impossible by marshaling in defense of the quo such overwhelming ^rength that no nation will dare to resprt to fotce IB order to change the ^atus qiK). t^owgver. the less ideal are the conch - iTaflnTtfiri..ii(iWiw1r the l-prmtri^kl^ xylTT of the 1-^^ status quo. I f an appre* i imwh&t of natioas are opi dabJe BUiid>er of natioas are opposed to the status qv^ ztidi it they are un^ to give Ae cDmmm good, as defined in terms of collective security, preoeomce over their <^pposidon, the distribution dE power between the status qiK> and and-slatiis quo nations will no tonger be overwhelmingly in favor of the forn^. Rather the di^r&uticMi of power will take on the aspects of a bal- ance of power which may ^ill law the smm quo nations, hut no bnga: to such an extent as to operate as m at^ute deterroit npm those opposed to the status quo* The attempt to put coHecdve scairity into effect undar siKh Conditions — ( 334 ) Security which are, as we know, the only conditions under which it can be put into effect — will not preserve peace, but will make war inevitable. And not only will it make war inevitable, it will also make localized wars impossible and thus make war universal. For, i£ under the regime of collective security as it actually would work under contemporary conditions, A attacks B, then C, D, E, and F might honor their coUective obligations and come to the aid of B, while G and H might try to stand aside and I, J, and K might support A’s aggression. Were there no system of collective security, A might attack B THE REALITY OF COLLECTIVE SECURITY with whatever consequences that might have for A and B, yet with no other nations being involved in war. Under a system of collective security operating under less than ideal conditions, war between A and B or between any other two nations anywhere in the world is of necessity tantamount to war among all or at best most nations of the world. From the beginning of the modern state system to the First World War, it was the main concern of diplomacy to localize an actual or threatened con- flict between two nations, in order to prevent it from spreading to other nations. The efforts of British diplomacy in the summer of 1914 to limit the conflict between Austria and Serbia to those two countries are an impressive, however unsuccessful, example. By the very logic of its assumptions, the diplomacy of collective security must aim at transforming all local conflicts into world conflicts. If this cannot be one world of peace, it cannot help being one world of war. Since peace is supposed to be indivisible, it follows that war is indivisible, too. Under the assumptions of collective security, any war anywhere in the world, then, is potentially a world war. Thus a device intent ijpon makinfr i mpossible ends UP in making war umv'er'sal. IMIliillffffr nfesmHnm^innrr ^irtTirrf-rn_nx7n rn||frt-ivp iipnintv. as it yust actualir ( 335 ) Politics among Nations operate is bound to destroy p^we^among all a) The Itdo-Ethiopian War These comments on collective security as a practical device for preserving peace are borne out by the experiences made when, for the first and thus far the last time, an attempt was made to apply collective security in a concrete case — the League of Nations’ sanctions against Italy in 1935-36. After Italy’s attack on Ethiopia, the League of Nations put the mechanism of collective security provided for in Article 16 of the Covenant into motion. It soon be- came apparent that none of the assumptions upon whose realization the suc- cess of collective security depends were present and could have been present under the actual conditions of world politics. The United States, Germany, and Japan were not members of the League system of collective security and were, furthermore, divided in their sym- pathies. Germany had already openly embarked upon policies designed to overthrow the existing status quo in Europe. Japan was already well on its way to overthrow the status quo in the Far E^t. Both, therefore, could only look with favor on an undertaking which, by overthrowing the status quo in an out-of-the-way region, would weaken the position of Great Britain and France who were vitally interested in the preservation of the status quo in Europe and the Far East The United States, on the other hand, approved of the saxempts to strengthen the defense of the status quo, while the temper of public opinion in the country prevented it from taking an active part in such attempts. The nations who were prepared to do everything they could for the success of the League experiment were either too weak to do much of consequence, such as the Scandinavian countries, or, as in the case of the Soviet Union, their ulterior motives were suspect. Furthermore, the Soviet Union was lacking in naval strength, indispensable under the circumstances, and had no access to the theater of decisive operations without the co-opera- tion of the interjacent countries, which was not forthcoming. Thus the case of collective security vs. Italy was in essence the case of Great Britain and France vs. Italy. This was a far cry from the ideal pre- leginrite of a concentration of ovenribelming power which no prospective would dare to chaBenge. It is, of course, true that the combined of Great Ifekain and Fran<^ would have sufficed to crush Italy. Yet Great and were only numbers of the League system of ocSocrivt legal, and political commitments. Nor wore Italy was only were progressing attack for attack going on ea^ of the their fear of communism as a ^ HofW cdlecth«e security siiadow o£ a great jxawer Has I ( 33 ^ ) Security mestic status quo from their policies toward the Soviet Uiiion. What Great Britain and France conceived as their national interests contradicted what collective security required them to do. More particularly, they were resolved and made their resolution known not to go so far in defense of Ethiopia as to risk war with Italy. In the already quoted words of Winston Churchill: ‘‘First, the Prime Minister had declared that sanctions meant war; secondly, he was resolved that there must be no war; and thirdly, he decided upon sanctions. It was evidendy impossible to comply with these three conditions.” ® Unwilling to subordinate their national interests to the requirements of collective security, Great Britain and France were also unwilling to pursue their national interests without regard to collective security. This was the fatal error of British and French foreign policy with regard to the Italo-Ethiopian War. By pursuing either cause half-heartedly and without consistency, they failed in both. Not only did they not save the status quo in East Africa, they also drew Italy into the arms of Germany. They destroyed the collective sys-» tern of the League of Nations as well as their own prestige as defenders of the status quo. Among the causes for the increasing boldness of the anti-status quo nations in the late thirties, culminating in a war of a rhk of jrestige holds a prom inent place. ^ ^ 1 he debacle of55ne^ti^^"cufity, when it was once applied m a n actual case of aggressiofty conveys two important lemons. It shows the contraction" between an ideally perfect ^heme of reform and a poHticaTr^ISjn^ch lacks aU^ the assum^^ the success of the schme.w^ pre^cated.^^^^ ^tiws also the^fatal w^ness of a foreign poHcy which is incapable of degiHr ing whStKef m be guided by ibe national interest however defeied^ or hy a supranational principle embodying the common good of the community of 2 . AN INTERNATIONAL POLICE FORCE The idea of an international police force goes a step beyond collective security in that the application of collective force against an actual or prospec- tive lawbreaker no longer lies within the control of the individual nations. The international police would operate under the command of an international agency which would decide when and how to employ it. No such police force has ever operated as a permanent international organization. The mem- bers of the United Nations are, however, obligated by Articles 42 ff. of the Charter to create such an international police force in the form of a United Nations Armed Force. No progress h^ yet been made in executing that obligation. ^ The hopes for the preservation of peace which have been connected'with an international poMce force since the end of the First World War are de- rived from an analogy with the peace-preserving functions which the police performs in domestic societies. This anak^ is, however, misleading on three grounds. ^ London Eoemng Standard, Juac 26, 1936. ( 337 ) Politics among Nations Domestic societies are composed o£ millions o£ members o£ which at any one time normally only a very small fraction is engaged in violating the law. The spread o£ power among members of domestic societies is extreme, since there are very powerful and very weak members; yet the combined power of law-abiding citizens will normally be far superior to any combination of even the most powerful lawbreakers. The police as the organized agency of the law-abiding majority does not need to exceed relatively small proportions in order to be able to cope with any foreseeable threat to law and order. In these three respects the international situation is significantly different. International society is composed of a relatively small number of members, amounting to about sixty sovereign states. Among these there are giants, like the United States and the Soviet Union, and pygmies, such as Luxemburg and Nicaragua. What is more important, the power of any one of the giants constitutes a very considerable fraction of the total power of the community of nations, A giant in combination with one or two second-rate nations or a few small ones may easily exceed the strength of all the other nations com- bined. In view of such a formidable potential opposition, a police force of truly gigantic dimensions would obviously be needed if it should be able to squelch an infringement of law and order without transforming every police action into full-scale war. This would still be true, only on a proportionately smaller scale, if general disarmament should reduce drastically the armed forces of the individual nations. For the international police would still have to constitute a counterweight of overwhelming superiority to the military spirit and training, the industrial capacity, strategic advantages, in short, the power pc^cntial of the great powers, which inc^ of conflict could easily be transformed into actual roilitary strength. Under the assumption, then — which is indeed a mere hypothetical as- sumption — that nations would be willing to surrender the instruments for the protection and furtherance of their own interests to an international police force, how is such an international police force to be composed? The nature of international society as it actually is allows no satisfactory answer to that questio^ In societies the police force is naturally composed of members who arc fully identified with tl^ exiting law and order. Even if one would as^ime that amoi^ them there are seme posed to the existing law and otder, pre^portionate in numbers to the segment of the total population op- posed to k, the nundxr of the disafS^ted would be so small as to be virtually and unrfjle to affect the striking power of the police. An interna- tiew^ poike force would necessarily have to be c»m|K)sed of a proportionate ot equd number c£ citizens of the different natimis. These nations, however, as we have seen, are virtually always divided into defenders and opponents of the existing st^us quo, that i% of exisdng law and orefcr. Their citizens as members c£ the intmiationai poH<^ force could not but share the national preferences in this respect Are they to be expected to fight against their own countries in defense of a status qw to which they, as members of tl^ir nations, must be opposed? Given the relative ^rength o£ national and international loyalties in the contemporary world, in case of conflict the national loyalties ( 338 ) Security could not but attract the respective members of the international police force like so many magnets, thus dissolving the international police force before it could ever meet a challenge to the existing law and order. Considerations of this kind underlie the differences of opinion which have made it impossible for the United Nations Military Staff Committee to agree on the composition of an international police, the United Nations Armed Force. The debate on the United Nations Armed Force posed again the prob- lem of the ratio. This problem arose with reference to the share of the dif- ferent nations in the composition of the Armed Force. The United States has suggested that the contingents of the individual nations be proportionate to their own military strength. The Soviet Union has maintained that the shares of all nations ought to be equal regardless of the size of their military estab- lishments. In this controversy the general conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union has reasserted itself. The existence of a United Nations Armed Force would imply the possi- bility of creating a counterweight to the military preponderance of the Soviet Union on the continents of Europe and Asia. If the member states were repre- sented in the United Nations Armed Force proportionate to their armed strength, the Soviet Union and its friends would provide a large fraction of the army of the Armed Force. Their contribution to the air force would cer- tainly be inferior to the total and their share in the navy of the United Na- tions Armed Force would be negligible. Those are, however, the weapons to v^hich, by virtue of its strate^c position, the Soviet Union is most vulnerable. Since the Soviet Union and its allies are hopelessly outvoted in the Security Council, which would have command of the Armed Force, the latter would be more likely to be used against the Soviet Union than against anybody else. Since, furthermore, the Soviet Union is the main opponent of the status quo, the defense of which would be the main task of the Armed Force, there would also be greater opportunity for using the latter against the Soviet Union than against anybody else. Thus the United States is vitally interested in making the United Nations Armed Force as strong as possible in relation to the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union is vitally interested in keeping the United Nations Armed Force as weak as possible with regard to itself. The failure of the Military Staff Com- mittee, charged by the Security Council with working out plans for the United Nations Armed Force, to reach agreement can be directly assigned to this politico-military situation and the political conflia between the United States and the Soviet Union underlying it. The conflict between status quo and imperialism has been posed here in terms of the ratio according to which the United Nations Armed Force should be composed. The United States has tried to strengthen the forces of the status quo within the United Nations Armed Force by advocating that the United Nations Armed Force be composed of contingents proportionate to the armed strength of the member states. The Soviet Union, intent upon weakening the forces of the status quo and upon whittling down the pre- ponderance of the United States in those weapons particularly dangerous to itself, has defended the principle of the equality of contributions to the United ( 339 ) Politics among flattens Nations Armed Force, regardless of the proportionate armed strength of the contributing states/ Thus it is extremely unlikely that under present political conditions an in- ternational police force of the kind envisaged in Article 43 of the Charter of the United Nations can be formed at all. If, however, attempts at forming one should be successful, one of two things is Hkely^to JaappeiwBkher the in- ternational police force will fail, torn apart by clashing national loyalties, or it will be a factor in a general war with the existing status quo as its stake. An international police force in a society of sovereign states is a contradic- tion in terms. It is in the larger context of the world state that we will meet this problem again. The problem of an international police force, to be solved at all, must be solved within the framework of a world society which commands the ultimate secular loyalty of its individual members and has de- veloped a conception of justice by which the individual nations composing it are willing to test the legitimacy of their individual claims. 7 £7. N. doc. S/P.v. 138, 139; S/336. ( 340 ) CHAPTER XXIII Judicial Settlement I. THE NATURE OF THE JUDICIAL FUNCTION The existence of conflicts among nations makes the realization of interna- tional peace through disarmament, collective security, and an international police force impossible. Nation A wants something of nation B which nation B is not willing to concede. In consequence, an armed contest between A and B is always possible. If there were a way, acceptable to A and B, of settling that conflict peaceably, it would make war superfluous as the supreme arbiter of conflicts among nations. And here again the analogy with domestic society is tempting. In primitive societies individuals will often settle their conflicting claims through fighting. They will abstain from seeking a decision by violent means only when in the appeal to the authoritative decision of impartial judges they find a substitute for their appeal to arms. It seems obvious to conclude that, if such impartial judges were only available for the authoritative decision of international disputes, the main cause of war would be eliminated. Such was indeed the conclusion many humanitarians and statesmen have drawn with increasing frequency and intensity since the middle of the nine- teenth century. Toward the end of that century the so-called Arbitration Movement, whose main tenet was the compulsory setdement of all interna- tional dis putes by intcrnationAl ''tribuuak^"eu bbXS'rcdhsIdcrabte mass^^ port ah^ loyalties, its pubhc influence was comparableTo t£at of the mass movements which later pinned their hopes on the League of Na- tions, the United Nations, and a world state. We have already traced the history of the unsuccessful attempts to establish compulsory jurisdiction of international courts for the purpose of settling peacefully international dis- putes which otherwise might lead to war.^ It remains for us now to examine the reasons for the failure of most of the nations, particularly the major na- tions, to accept the compulsory jurisdiction of international courts^Itjsj3^ the stupidity or wick^incss of stat^men or nations which must "" iiSferfOl liM llMure. but the nature of ^tefnanop^ l ^tics ot the Sv wiEBm winch it opemtes.. ^ ; % $e4 230 M* ( ^41 ) Politics among Nations The analogy between the pacifying influence of domestic courts and the anticipated similar effect of international courts is mistaken on three grounds. Courts decide disputes on the basis of the law as it is. The law as it is provides the common ground on which the plaintiff and the defendant meet. Both claim that the law as it is supports their cause, that it is on their side, and they ask the court to decide the case on that ground. The disputes which they ask the court to decide — aside from questions of faa — concern the bearing of the existing law on their respective claims, differently interpreted by plaintiflF and defendant. Such is the fundamental issue with which courts, domestic and interna- tional, must deal, and such is the nature of virtually all cases with which international courts have actually dealt. But those are not the issues which set nation against nadon in deadly conflict and entail the risk of war. What is at stake in those internadonal conflicts which are rightly called “political” and which have caused all major wars is not what the law is, but what it ought to be. The issue is here not the interpretation of the existing law recog- nized as legitimate by both sides, at least for the purposes of the lawsuit, but the legitimacy of the existing law as over against the demand for change. Everybody knew in 1938, to cite only a few recent examples, what the legal situation was with regard to Czechoslovakia. Nobody had any doubts in 1939 what international law said with regard to the status of Danzig and the German-Polish frontier. There is no disagreement today concerning the rules of international law which apply to the rights and the obligations of the Soviet Union and Turkey with reference to the Dardanelles. What was or is at issue in all these controversies evoking the spectre of war is not the applica- tion and interpretation of international law as it is, but the legitimacy of the existing legal order and the justification of the demand for its change. What Germany was opi^d to in regard to Czechoslovakia, Danzig, and Poland, and what the Soviet Union opposes with respea to the Dard^ellcs is not a particular interpretation of international law concerning these matters, but the existing legal order as such. What G ermany wai^ Soviet Union wants is a Other m ny particular distribution of power, “tasWTTSaTi^hed some dqpee of lability, is hardened into a legal order. This legal orefcr iK)t provin. No nation, and especially no anti-status quo nation, for reasons already di^aissed, will t^e the risk of submitting a dispute of this kind, and through k the issue ctf the teaskm itself, to the authoritative d^dsion of a court. 3* I.IMITATIONS OF THE JUDIGIAE FUNCTION We arrive, then, at the condusion that TOlitical disputes — disputes which stand in rek&m to a teasioQ amt in whidb, therefore, the over-all distribu- tion of power between two nations is at stake-^canne^ be ^tded by judidal means. This condurion, arrived at by way of analysis, is borne out by the actual behavior of states. We have pointed to the extreme care with which ^tes are wont to define and thdr obfigation to sibmk ifis- ® Act. IV, Scc^ IV, Haes 56 IL < 346 ) Judicial Settlement putes to international courts.^ They do this in order to retain the ultimate control over the kind of settlement to be applied to their disputes. It is significant that the nations which have concluded arbitration treaties without any qualification, thus submitting all disputes of any kind to the judicial process, are those between whom conflicts over the over-all distribu- tion of power and, hence, political disputes are virtually impossible. Such treaties have been concluded, for instance, between Colombia and El Salvador, Peru and Bolivia, Denmark and The Netherlands, Denmark and Italy, Den- mark and Portu^, The Netherlands and China, The Netherlands and Italy, Austria and Hungary, France and Luxembourg, Belgium and Sweden, Italy and Switzerland. No two states which had the slightest reason to anticipate the possibility of a political conflict with one another in the not too distant future have entered into legal obligations not allowing either side to exempt political disputes from judicial setdement. Furthe ti n oie ,.j amQ ag_t b e twentY..d £ckaQD S renderfi d hv the P t rrmaafi a fc (^urt of Arbitration, there is nop? yyhif,h be-ealle{Lpr>litic,al in .tlMt sense in'lvlacl r Wti are! lSnZjtbLj£rm. Amon g Ae durtY iudgmeats. .ajad.t»tmtv- ss yefi .a£[ ikaat<)pipions rendered. W th^cananimt ..Com of Jtoterjoaaiinai Justio? there is one which can be <^ed political: the advisor y opinion ip the caserof thS Austro-German Custonos 0 nion.^We have alrea^ pointed to the fact thaFfKeTuHsdictien "Of tfiPCourt in this case was based upon Article 14 of the Covenant of the League of Nations authorizing the Council of the League to request advisory opinions from the Court.® Being ad visory, the opinion did net-feiadji^ Cou ncil, but left it to take it'Sgwl it in the hgh t-of ite 'oSmteeg an^ It may be adaconere that tbe Council of the League of Nations in this case acted as an organ of the status quo. That the Council should play such a role was inevitable in view both of its composition and the function it was sup- posed to fulfill as the political executive of the l.eague of Nations. This request for an advisory opinion drew the Court into a confusion which led to the greatest intellectual debacle in the history of that judicial agency. The fact Aat there were four differait opinions and that out of fif- teen judges seven felt the need to identify tbemselves with the two concurring opinions and seven signed a dissenting opinion illustrates the extent of the confusion. The measure of the intellectual dd>acle can only be conveyed by a perusal of the ojanions themselves. The inability of so Hghly competent a tribunal to cope adequately with the case of the Austro-German Customs Union was the inevitable result of the nature of the case. With the propewed Customs Union, Gemoany and Austria challenged the status quo of 1919. The Permanent Court of International Justice was intel- lectually prepared to deal with any case arising within the framework of the existing status qiK>. The lega l or( ^ of th at stanTs mm furni shed it with the intellectual instrumenS ~mpgrfen ff''thaf task. Confronted w jth ^ cliaiipnp rm that itt atHS OM Q^tbe Cotart was tturoy ^ ofLitalanco hv iVs i^abiliw to find g rounds above the rontentjon s^ the-j aartie-s from which to judge th e claims ^ See above, pp, ® Di^ercttt authors use difeeat figures. We follow Oppcnhcini-Lauterpaclit, he, cif.^ II, $74. ^ See above, p. 224. ( 347 ) Politics among Nations and counterclaims. Being an organ of the status quo and performing functions which had to take the legitimacy of that status quo for granted, the Court found itself faced with a task which no court of law is capable of performing: to pass judgment on the legitimacy of the status quo itself by finding upon the legality of the projeaed Austro-German Customs Union. Judge Anzilotti, in his brilliant and profound concurring opinion, put his finger on the essentially political problem which faced the Court and which it could not meet with the judicial means at its disposal. “Everything points to the faa that the answer depends upon considerations which are for the most part, if not entirely, of a political and economic kind. It may therefore be asked whether the Council really wished to obtain the Court’s opinion on this aspect of the question and whether the Court ought to deal with it. . . . I grant that the Court may refuse to give an opinion which would compel it to depart from the essential rules governing its activity as a tribunal. . . .” ^ The Court did not refuse to give an opinion and, by trying to decide a con- flict between the status quo and the desire for change, departed “from the essential rules governing its activity as a tribunal.” Finally, perhaps the most impressive empirical evidence for the analysis offered above is presented by the relations between the United States and the Soviet Union as they have developed since the end of the Second World War. It has been a matter of much comment that it is extremely difficult to define the fundamental issue which separates the United States and the Soviet Un- ion. It is not Germany, nor Austria, nor Trieste, nor Greece, nor Turkey, nor Iran, nor Korea, nor China. Nor is it the sum of all these single issues. Nor can the fundamental issue be defined in terms of the conflict between two an- tagonistic philosophies and systems of government; for that conflict existed for twenty-five years without having the kind of repercussions on the inter- national scene which we are witnessing today. The issues mentioned, either singly or combined, cannot account for the depth and the bitterness of the conflicts which engulf the United States and the Soviet Union wherever they meet, and for the stalemates which attend their every effort at settling those conflicts by peaorful nKans. v/ The existence eff a tendon emlracmg the whole globe can explain these peculiariti^ of the individual conflicts. That tension provides the lifeblood which pulsates in all issuer small and large, standing between the United States and lite Soviet Unk^ and im|»m to them the same color, the smm tempamme^ and the same peculiarities. It is indeed the fundamental issue of which all the single issues mentioned above are but ramifications or symeedk lepesemarives. The Soviet Umm os^the between tie United States and the owntenEs.: Judicial Settlement overthrow . No court, domestic or int crnationalj ij equipped to settle this issue. Thej:oil^jteraitor^^6 i^ue^^^ issue is no miaIly* sct* fled inTtHe Homestic sphere shows from vet another anslc the SHacv^ot the analogy oetwe^j^ paci^ng Funenon of doni?5]^3aa KJfixna tion al courts. ( 349 ) CHAPTER XXIV Peaceful Change I. PEACEFUL CHANGE WITHIN THE STATE Tensions are a imiv^r5;al pl^f^^nnmennn nf sn ^ial Ufe._ They doniesScTiolci s &e j^phere, Tn the domestic sphere, too, a given “staliis^^o is statilized and perpetuated in a legal system. Social forces, hostile to this status quo, arise and try to overthrow it by changing the legal system. It is not the courts which decide that issue. The courts cannot help but act as agents of the status quo. In the struggle between the desire for change and the status quo the cause of change is upheld, if at all, by le|^- islatures and, sometimes, by the executive power. T ^us the tension between th e status quo an d the demand for change frequejffly res^<^ do- mestic affairs into a conBict tisetweenTEe courts as tEedefenders of She status qiiS and the Te^sk^ aT® champion 6f c^ian^^e^ ' ' ^Tliis ii tf ue dfmany of tf5 great co^oversies or modern history in which tensions manifested themselves. Thus the tension between the status quo of feudalism and the desire for change of the middle classes manifested itself in the rivalry between courts and Parliament in nineteenth-century Britain. In the intellectual realm this rivalry was foreshadowed in the polemic of Ben- tham, the apo^ of reform through legislation, against Blackstohe, the con- servative drfender <£ the common law and of its courts. A similar conflict arose in the United States in the fir^ decades of the twentieth century when the status quo of laissez faire was prelected by the courts against social and legulatory In both cases change won out, and the-eourts became the (kfcn d^ cf the new status qiK). Three fiSoEs made this peaceful transformation possible; X.i ^.jthe..abilitv of public ftfffiinr it^}f (2 LtI^ abiEty of social_^d politica l' mstitutions to absorb the pressu re of pu blic opnion, and (3) the ability of the state to prot^ new sta ^i^^giicL agmiisi viole nt change. In both nii^eentfccciitiiry En^l^d an3 rwbidofa eetttt^ pub- lic opinion expressed the de^e change through Ae spoken and printed wcard, through erganized efforts and ^)0iitan«>us reactions. Under the impact of these expressions, moral dim^ ^ community diangen £>iica are, m sltet^y outliite, the processes o£ peaceful change on the do- mestK scene- They in^e it possible for tensions to naanifest themselves in psiblK oMitroveracs, election campaigns, parliamentary ddates, and govern- naoatal crises, instead of in violent coniSagrations. If, however, those proc> esses do noc opexate or opersue badly, tl^ dbmestic situation which then will «uise zesendiles the oonditknis whi^ esi^ on the international scene. De- mseads for dbange, on^le to assert tbemsdves in the competition of the mar- ket flaeei, in eUpouwalaod kgishuive oemtests, go, as it were, underground. The ■ ‘ t - | | ,i lh m il l fill ‘^‘“■TO i pd fnr ' <»■ revohxtioEtary st^e. The grot^ cf the population identified re^eaivcly with the status quo and t&e demand iat d^ge will oppose each like two armed camps unalde to to’ ^ arbi&ament of tjhe majority vote or even to formulato their poattons In tofa» otanmem to both, so^ a d^ diskm in economic or i ni Whether such a dtuasdest adEBa%;4|g^ejatos into war depends on the distrihutieHt of pOsSafar wi^n dran^acj ( 352 ) Peaceful Change already pointed out in another context that the modern technology of war and communications makes popular revolutions extremely unlikely/ The odds are very much in favor of violent changes in form of coups d’etat. In-^ stead of one fraction of the population rising against the government sup^ ported by another fraction of the population, it is more likely that one segS ment of the governmental machinery, especially of the armed forces, will try'^ to gain control over all of the government. ^ What is important for our present discussion is to recognize that it is not the domestic courts which peacefully setde disputes that otherwise might lead to revolution and civil war. When in the Dred Scott case the issue of the territorial extension of slavery was before the Supreme Court of the United States, the Court decided in favor of the status quo. Yet that decision setded nothing. No court of law could have setded what was at stake in the Dred Scott case. Even society as a whole was unable to setde the conflict between the status quo and the desire for change by peaceful means. For that conflict not only challenged the existing distribution of power between North and South, but in the issues of slavery and the relations between the federal and state governments it also reopened the question as to the content of the moral consensus upon which the political structure of the United States was built. That question was addressed not to a court or a legislature, but to soci- ety as a whole. And American society gave two incompatible answers. It was those answers which made the conflict ^‘irrepressible.” The vital function of peaceful change within the state is performed not by any particular agency acting in isolation, but by domestic society as an integrated whole. The moral consensus of society, supported by the authority and material power of the government will avail itself of all social and political agencies to bring about a state of afiairs in conformity with its con- ception of justice. For this process of peaceful change, legislative bodies play a particularly important role if, as in democratic societies, they are free agents. But legislatures, too, are only the agents of society as a whole. Without so- ciety’s support their laws are impotent to bring about the desired change. The history of legislation is strewn with laws, such as the antitrust laws, which, while enacted by the legislature and remaining on the statute books, have failed to achieve ^eir purpose because the moral consensus of society does not support them. Thus legislative bodies are no more capable than courts of peacefully changing an old status quo into a new one by merely performing their technical functions. In other words, to legislate sxiflEces no more than to hand down a judicial opinion when society is confronted with its supreme challenge: to change the distribution of power within society without jeopardizing the orderly and peaceful processes upon which the wel- fere of society depends. 2. FEAGEFUL CHANGE IN INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS An iinportant lesson can be learned from the analogy between the legal process ^ domesm and international societies. But it is not the lesson which ^ See Politics among Nations the advc^ates o£ the judicial settlement of international disputes have drawn. Domestic cotirts do not and cannot fulfill the function which advocates of judicial settlement ascribe to them. They do not and cannot peacefully settle disputes which otherwise would lead to violent conflagrations. The forces and institutions, however, which fulfill this function for domestic society do not exist at all on the international scene. As we have $een,“ there is no longer a moral consensus among nations from which quarreling nations could receive a common standard of justice for the settlement of their disputes. Since the end of the Second World War this moral cleavage has become so deep and the tension between the United States and the Soviet Union so alhpermeating that even disputes arising within the framework of the existing status quo are no longer capable of judicial settlement. Thus the failure to submit disputes to the International Court of Justice, in contrast to the extensive activities of its predecessor, takes on peculiar significance- This failure is a symptom of the disintegration of international society. This disintegration has now gone so far as to preclude international courts from performing even the normal functions which they have successfully discharged in the past. The same lack of a moral consensus has prevented the realization of the provisions, found in many arbitration treaties and also in the Statute of the International Court of Justice, which under certain conditions allow inter- national courts to decide not according to strict international law, but; fi? hano. that is^ at^rdlQ^.,laih^.iyjanral principles of equitv and jus- Provisions of this kind are sound in that diey rccogm^ the Slstefe™ of disputes not susceptible to judicial settlement on the basis of the existing rules of international law. Such provisions arc, however, unsound in that they assume that the problem posed by the latter category of disputes can be rolvcd simply by authorizing courts to depart from the existing rules of international law and to invoke some general principles of equity and jus- tice. Internatbnal courts can invoke such principles only if these principles exist. They cannot invent them or refer to them as to a deus ex machina, standing ready to intervene whenever an international court is caught be- tweea the ^atus quo and the desire for change. International society is in want ^ gesierally accepted standards of justice through which the respec- tive na^ts the defense of, and the attack upon, the status quo coidd be dei^wned. To empower a court to use such standards is of little help if the standards to be used do n(« exist. Imnrs^ioaal society also Jacks le^idativc bodies which could fulfill the functit^ in the process of peaceful change arailar to tibe functions which ^dative agencies perfewm for dcai^c socicay. Article 19 of the Covenant of the League of Nations and Artkh; 14 of the Charter ek United Nations have endeavored to suf^ an instrumentality for pcacsefol change. Article 19 of the Covenant re^: “The Assembly may from time to i-iwp advise the rcronsidwatioQ by ftfcuheis of the League of treaties which have be- come inapplicable and the considcr^cai wever, that only a majority vote was required, the sit- uation was similar to the one which wc found to vitiate the practical opera- * Btditeftd (New Ydrk: CcKiocil on Foreign Relations, 1^37), p- iil* ^ Joarnd of the Second As&emHy of the League of Nations, p* 218. ( ) Politics among Nations tion of collective security.® In any situation v^here the perpetuation of the status quo is at stake, it is probable that the community of nations will be divided into two hostile camps. One group will favor the perpetuation of the status quo, the other will demand its overthrow. Which group has a nu- merical majority is obviously an irrelevant question. What counts in a so- ciety of sovereign nations is only where the preponderance of power resides. A minority of great powers will assuredly disregard the advice of a majority of weak and medium powers; the advice of a majority ready to use over- whelming power will be heeded by the minority. Actually, however, it is much more likely that two camps of not too disproportionate power will oppose each other. In such a contingency the issue would not have been de- cided by the advice of the anti-status quo nations which might have had a majority in the Assembly of the League of Nations. b) The Palestine Resolution of the General Assembly of the United Nations These considerations, merely speculative with respect to Article 19 of the Covenant of the League of Nations, have been tested by the actual operation of Article 14 of the Charter of the United Nations. Article 18, paragraph 2, of the Charter provides that the General Assembly of the United Nations can make recommendations by virtue of Article 14 by a two-thirds majority of the members present and voting. While broader and less specific in its wording than Article 19 of the Covenant, Article 14 is intended to fulfill for the United Nations the same function which Article 19 was supposed to perform for the League: to open a legal avenue for peaceful change. The General Assembly of the United Nations has availed itself of this power to make recommendations with remarkable frequency. Within the span of Kttle more than a year it has made recommendations with regard to the treatment of the Indians in the Union of South Africa, the situations in Greece and Korea, and the problems of Spain and Palestine. With respea to all these situations, except the last mentioned, however, the recommendations of the General Assembly had either no relevance for the probiem of peaceful chan^ or aimed at foe maintenance of the status quo through the presorv^^on or i«x>ratk>n of peace. Its recommendations OGiKsaming foe pmbi^ Pafe^inse are of a different character. The i^esolu- tfea eg Geaeyd . of Noveta^ tJiJrtttai *A was a getiiaoe ay-ayii ptWiil c hange, the only (met >iftnr!g4 HnrttiHakeu tM'mit ” Its. i i g ft irwla i e fe^ bad to de^jsEiWec^ lay (2) ^ nn-tt Tniirh pinipnliTiriii|- and (3) boiwofm iii ^ See above, 331 C ® Tbe parddoii c£ Upp^ tbe liedgoc j Tbe League acted in this ca^ tie ^ was pan ci tb; pcsK:e settfement kopexsed bjF ( 356 ) Peaceful Change Jews for predominance over the country. Under the scheme envisaged by theTjg n er al "Ass eiit bty^-the-p ie do iiniiariC Fof Great Britain would be termi- nated, and the territory of Palestine would be divided into three parts, one under the sovereignty of the Arabs, another under the sovereignty of the Jews, and a third under the sovereignty of the United Nations. There was general agreement concerning the termination of British rule. Yet the resolution for recommending partition was passed by a vote of thirty- three to thirteen with ten countries abstaining, Afghanistan, Cuba, Egypt, Greece, India, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Turkey, and Yemen voted against the resolution. Argentina, Chile, China, Colombia, El Salvador, Ethiopia, Honduras, Mexico, Great Britain, and Yugoslavia ab- stained from voting. It is worthy of note that none of the countries directly affected by the recommended redistribution of power voted in favor of the resolution; they either abstained (Great Britain) or voted against the resolu- tion (the Arab countries). The words and actions of the Arab countries left no doubt that the Arabs inside and outside Palestine would oppose partition by force of arms- Great Britain declared in advance of the vote and repeatedly since that she would not assist in the execution of any plan which was not acceptable to Arabs and Jews alike. In view of the Arab opposition, this was tantamount to saying that Great Britain would not co-operate at all in carrying out the recom- mendations of the General Assembly. Great Britain has, however, gone beyond mere non-cooperation. It has done what it was able, short of taking up arms, to. make the execution of the recommendations of the General Assembly impossible. To that end Great Britain continued to send arms to the Arab states adjacent to Palestine, while at the same time preventing arms from reaching Palestine, Furthermore, it refused to recognize the right of the Palestinian Jews to arm themselves and- to establish a military organization during the transition period from British rule to actual partition. Finally, Great Britain did not allow the General As- sembly to make on-the-spot preparations for an orderly and peaceful transi- tion and to establish provision^ agencies of government before the actual end of British rule. All these measures were li)xmd to favor the Arabs and to work to the disadvantage of the Jews. If it had been the avowed purpose of the British government to make the change from British to the new rule chaotic and violent instead of peaceful and orderly and to assure the victory of the Arabs in the ensuing civil war, it is hard to see what more Great Brit- ain could have done. Faced with the prospect of armed resistance, the General Aissembly in its resolution of November 29, 1947, requested the Security Council to "‘deter- mine as a threat to peace, breach of the peace or act of aggression, in accord- ance with Article 39 of the Charter, any attempt to alter by force the settle- ment envisaged by this resolution.” ^ The General Assembly further requested the Security Council, in case the latter made such a determination, to take “measures, under Articles 39 and 41 of the Charter, to empower the United Nations Commission, as provided ^ tL 2V. A/5 i€L ( 357 ) FoUtics among Nations in this resolution, to exercise in Palestine the functions’* of a provisional government. These requests amounted to a dual admission which our analysis of Ar- ticle 19 of the Covenant of the League of Nations has shown to be correct. On the one hand, a recommendation to change the status quo, which is ac- ceptable to all parties concerned, is superfluous; its acceptance shows that whatever disagreements there might have been among the parties did not af- fect the over-all distribution of power among them, but affected only adjust- ments within an over-all distribution of power upon which all parties con- cerned were agreed. On the other hand, a recommendation to change the status quo, which is opposed by one of the parties concerned, will either re- main a dead letter or must be enforced. Hence, the recommendation, to be effective, must become a decision backed by force. It was the purpose of the requests of the General Assembly that this transformation of recommenda- tion into decision be brought about by the only agency of the United Nations which the Charter has given the power to make decisions to use force: the Security Council. In the discussions and decisions of the Security Council concerning these requests, the dilemma of peaceful change in a society of sovereign nations came to the fore. The members of the Security Council, some of whom are identical with the leading members of the General Assembly, now no longer dealt with a mere recommendation by which nobody was bound and which, therefor^ everybody could disregard at his discretion. The members of the Security Council had to make a decision, binding upon themselves and upon the parties concerned. That decision could not fail to commit the interests and the ^wer of at least some of the members of the Security Council. At this point the national interests of individual nations reasserted them- selves against, and prevailed over, the common good as defined by the reso- lution of the General Assembly of November 29, 1947, in terms of the need for peaceful change. Aside from Syria as representative of the Arab states in the Security Council and Great Britain, a number of other nations, among them the United States, believed that enforced partition was against their na- tional intere^. No member of the Security Council felt that its national in- demaaefed enforced partition. Thus enforced partition and with it peaorful partition was dead when the Security Council met on February 24, to act upon the resolution of the General Assembly of November 29, 1947. Tte Security Councii’s task, then, was to give the corpse a decent burial *Ihe United Slates assumed charge of the funeral arrangements. Peaceful par- tition was cafried to its grave on a hearse which was drawn by four horses belonging to die stabfe of Legal Fiction and n’hirb, mound PlTtimin»Hg LiiiA^aiiNMitfcia>i^Tbe examr ination of the anatemay of the horses will show why peaceful partition was bound to die. In the Security Council the United States made four points which amounted to four ^ ' * • ' ^ * *“ * favpriof partition as rccommende Peaceful Change provisions of the Charter, the Secu rity Council had pp ^uihoiity to. enforce partition, but only autliprityTo^ in order to meet a threat to the ..4jeacef‘('4) a committee should ’^cidp.whlJther a threat to the peace actually Point (i) as a mere reference to the resolution of November 29, 1947, is meaningless; for the issue before the Security Council \vas no longer one of recommendation, but of decision. With the recommendations having been rejected by tv^o of the three parties concerned, the choice was no longer be- tween recommendation and decision, but between decision and nothing. Point (2) is based upon an implicit distinction between the interests and preferences of the United States and the interests and preferences of the United Nations as they manifest themselves in the collective body of the Se- curity Council. In view of the veto and of the predominant position of the United States within the Security Council, the distinction is purely fictitious. No decision of the Security Council can conceivably contradict what the United States considers its interests. If the Security Council should ever ren- der such a decision the United States would veto it. The Security Council, however, has never done so and is not likely ever to do so because of the con- trolling influence which the United States is able to exert, if need be, over the great majority of the members of the Security Council. A decision by the Se- curity Council, reached under the leadership of the United States, can be ve- toed by a permanent member. But without the leadership of the United States there cannot even be a decision to be vetoed. In this sense, then, it can be said that for all practical purposes, and especially when vital interests of the United States are at stake, the United States is the Security Council. For the United States to say “ We shall do what the Security Council tells us to/' without j^pytnpr^fr, time what the Se curity Council should do.' amounts to saving “We shall dn Point (3) is the heart of the American position. It constitutes a radical departure from the stand taken by the resolution of November 29, 1947, on the initiative and with the support of the United States. The United States, speaking through the resolution, identified a threat to the peace, which es- tablishes the right and the duty of the Security Council to act under Article 39 of the Charter, with “any attempt to alter by force the settlement envis- aged by this resolution.*' The United States, speaking as a member of the Se- curity Council, distinguished between armed resistance to partition and a threat to the peace. The United States furthermore distinguished between two different kinds of threats to the peace: external aggression against Palestine and internal dis- orders threatening international peace. According to the American interpre- tation, Article 39 of the Charter empowers the Security Council to use force against a threat to the peace, but not to enforce partition. Any attempt to prevent partition by force from within Palestine is, then, per se not a threat to the peace justifying the enforcement action of the Security Council. It might became such a threat only if it would tend to engulf other countries in war. ® Department of State Btdledn, Marcli 7, 1948 (Vol. XVIII, No. 453), pp. 294 £F. ( 359 ) Politics among Nations Not only were these distinctions the reverse of what the view of the United States had been three months before. The distinctions erected also a practically insurmountable legal barrier against any enforcement action on the part of the Security Council. Partition being the issue at stake, whatever threat to the peace there might be was bound to take the form of armed re- sistance to partition and, hence, to be outside the coercive authority of the Security Council, so long as armed resistance operated within Palestine. It was, however, obvious that the Arab states, as long as they could do so suc- cessfully, would resist partition not by invasion, but by infiltration. The penchant of the Arabs for guerrilla warfare made this military technique likely. The contiguity of the Arab territories of Palestine with the neighbor- ing Arab states made it inevitable. It was, therefore, very unlikely that, with- out the connivance of one or the other of the great powers, the conflict would openly spread beyond the borders of Palestine, thus threatening international peace as defined by the United States. To^ iy I'hi can enforce partifinn intern atjQJDial peace amount s to gnngtEilES^urity,CQm<^ '^TJnder such circumstances and with these distinctions as its frame of ref- erence, the Commission provided for by point (4) would have had no difii- culty in finding that the armed conflict was a purely local matter and, hence, did not constitute a threat to the peace. When on March 19, 1948, the United States, through its representative to the Security Council, asked the United Nations to abandon the attempt to bring about peaceful change through par- tition, it only made explicit a decision which was already implicit in the declaration of February 24. The fiasco of peaceful change by virtue of Article 14 of the Charter of the United Nations in the case of Palestine demonstrates empirically what we have tried to show through the analytis of Article 19 of the Covenant of the League of Nations. If the parties concerned agree, a recommendation on the part of an intemationat body is supofiuous. If the parties concerned do not agree, pcaoeful change is possible ody under the ideal conditions.of collective v^diere overwhelming force is marshalled against the dissenting party, barve the lealization of these conditions is extremely hn- * ; for pes^c)^^ change provided by modern interna- ^ horod to be unworkable. If they are put into op- eg^^pn a|E al|,ti»ere wjB dther be no change, or what change there is will not be peaoefod. Tto is to say: Either the recommendations for change will not be aiforoex^ or war the nations favoring, and those opposing, change will decide Ae fesue. Tlib canned be otherwise in a society ^ sovereign na- tions. For nations are moved to action by what they regard as their national rather than by the allegiance to a common good which, as a a>imjK>n ^andwJ lu^ce, exm in the society of nations. ( 360 ) CHAPTER XXV International Government The remedies for international anarchy and war discussed thus far are all spe- cific remedies. They attack a particular problem in which the lack of inter- national order and the tendency toward war are manifest and they endeavor to solve the general problem of international order and peace through a solu- tion of the particular problem. International government owes its existence to the recognition that peace and order are the products not of a specific de- vice meeting a particular problem, but of the common bond which unites an integrated society under a common authority and a common conception of justice. How to found such an authority in a society of sovereign states and to create such a conception of justice is, then, the task which any attempt at international government must try to solve. Each of the three world wars of the last century and a half was followed by an attempt to establish an international government. The total failure to keep international order and peace called forth an over-all effort to make in- ternational order and peace secure. The Holy Alliance followed the Napo- I- THE HOEY ALLIANCE a) History The international government commonly called the Holy Alliance was ba^d upon three treaties: the Treaty of Chaumont of Mar ^V* q, Qua druple Alliance signed at Oil No^mEcr 20^ a^d the Trea^ o£ the ^ptem of G haUinO lit Aus^ia. Great Britain, Prussia, and Russia con&udecl an alliance for tweBtJTyears for the purpose of preventing the Napoleonic dynasty from returning to France and of guaranteeing tl^ territorial setdement to be made at the end of the ( 361 ) Politics among Nations war against Napoleon, The Quadruple Alliance reafErmed the provisions of the Treaty of Chaumont and in its Article VI laid down the principles of what is known as -**congressional povernment’Lor ^‘diplomacy ’ ence.’" ^ TiTcontrast with the Quadruple Alliance which presented, as itjwere, the constitutional law of the international government of the Holy Alliance, the Treaty of the Holy Alliance itself, from which the international government received its name, contained no principles of government at all. It proclaimed the adherence of all rulers to the principles of Christianity with God as the actual sovereign of the world. It is replete with phrases such as “reciprocal service,’^ “unalterable good will,” “mutual affection,” “Christian charity,” “indissoluble fraternity.” Originally signed by the rulers of Austria, Prussia, and Russia, the Holy Alliance was adhered to by all European governments, with the exception of the Pope and the Sultan.^ Obviously inspired by Czar Alexander I of Russia, it reaffirmed the moral unity of Europe and, as al- ready pointed out, in drat reaffirmation of a moral consensus among the na- tions lies one of the actual functions which the Treaty of the Holy Alliance fulfilled. The Treaty of the Holy Alliance was of no significance for the actual op- erations of the international government which bore its name. Its principles were invoked from time to time by the Czar, affirmed in words and rejected in action by the other powers. Castlereagh, British Foreign Minister at the time of its conclusion, called it “a piece of sublime mysticism and nonsense,” and the Austrian Chancellor Metternich made vulgar jokes at its expense. Yet it served as moral justification for the principles of justice which the three original signatories of the Treaty propounded and for the policies by which they endeavored to realize these principles. Thus the Treaty of the Holy Alliance also fulfilled an ideological function and became the symbol of this whole era of international relations. In i8i8, the four signatories of the Quadruple Alliance admitted France as a fifth member to t^c part in all furAer meetings which were to be held by virti^ of Article VI of that treaty. In a qrcu] f|j- lirpird in lim it the Con- Pj^ia, and Ru ssia ple dged thj iiinii tM powT^f in two dis- p^ches of the same year, rrfused to have any part in policies whose purpose was to interfoe by force in the internal affairs of other countries. His suc- cessor, Cannings maintained this principle at the Congress of Verona in 1822, the laa the congresses which Great Britain attended. When the news of the failure of the Congress of Verona reached him, Canning, in a fctto' to Bagot of January 3, 1823, hailed the end of interna- i Artjde VI as Ic^iofws; **Tp assure anti feciKtate the exeentian of the present Treaty, and to oonsdkiate & nrtnnade winch to-day unite the 4 Soverefens for &e good of the world, dje Coistractaif Parties agreed to renew, at fixed periods, whether^ under the immediate auspices ci die or % thdlr respeefive Ministers, reunions devoted to the great common interests and to me examination oC the measures at any of these periods, shall he judg^ most fo ^ tite fo djc maintenance of the peace of the ^tate.^ ^ The British monarch, for Constitatiaiia! reason^ could not formaify adhere ( 362 ) International Government tional government by congresses and the beginning of a new era, as far as Great Britain was concerned, by invoking the religious principle of the Holy Alliance with a vengeance: “Every nation for itself, and God for us all!” International government by conference as a going concern did not sur- vive the British defection. After two more abortive attempts, one with refer- ence to the Spanish colonies, the other concerning Greece and Turkey, it came to an end in 1825. The system of an over-all international government instituted by Article VI of the Quadruple Alliance of November 20, 1815, did not last even a decade. The lifetime of the system of ambassadorial conferences for the set tlement of special problems was even shorter. It, too, was established by the Treaties of 1815 and consisted of three agencies: the ambassador to France of Austria, Great Britain, Prussia, and Russia dealing mainly with the prob- lems growing out of the peace treaties with France, yet acting in a general way as the paramount executive organ of the Quadruple Alliance; the am- bassadors of the great powers meeting in London to organize the abolition of the slave trade; and the ambassadorial conference at Frankfurt for the dis- cussion of German problems. All these agencies had disappeared by 1818. b ) Government by the Great Powers The international gover nment of the Holy Alliance was g-n.v^nrnf>nt By the gxeaL bOWLiA. Mil di^Llncbun between great and small powers as a politi- Fact pointing to the extreme differences in power among nations is of course one of the elemental experiences of international politics. As an insti- tution of international politics and organization it sprang from the brains of Castlereagh and became the very foundation of the sdieme adopted in 1815. It is true that the protocol of the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle of Novem- ber 15, 1818, providing for future meetings of the five great powers also stip- ulated “that in the case of these meetings having for their object affairs spe- cially connected with the interests of the other States of Europe, they shall only take place in pursuance of a formal invitation on the part of such of those States as the said affairs may concern, and under the express reserva- tion of their right of direct participation therein, either directly or by their Plenipotentiaries.” Yet this stipulation remained without appreciable influ- ence upon the policies of the Holy and, more particularly, of the Neo-Holy Alliance. c) Dual Meaning of the Status Quo To the question as to what principle of justice guided the Holy Alliance, the answer seems to be clear: tihe mainten ance of peace, status quo. Th k principle waslTT*iFr»titi ttflaEE^ than in the decla- rafi oii ofTEc ^^ers signed atAixda^har^eU^ on November tg. IM8: "Xijp obtect TTnlnn is a as iHTgriat'md salutarv. Tt Hnes jflBt tlg SaDb-anv new polinr^l mmhmatioii— .trt any cliafle;fe in t he Relations "sanSoned by existing Treaties^ Calm and consistent in its nrrvMiei* Obij^d: 'fh^ the rhaiiitenahclh m ia rantee nf those ti^saffions on which the j^eace was founded a^d miiii nliiilii ( ) Politics among Nations This answer, however, becomes highly ambiguotis i£ one raises the fur- ther question as to what was meant by the status quo. What Great Britain meant from the very beginning was not at all what Russia meant, and the conception of the status quo which guided the policies of the Neo-Holy Alli- ance was diametrically opposed to the policies pursued by Castlereagh and Canning. The status quo which Great Britain tried to preserve through the instrumentality of the Holy Alliance was strictly limited to the political situ- ation which existed at the end of the Napoleonic Wars with regard to France. To the British statesmen, the mortal peril into which Napoleon had put the British Isles was identical with the threat to the European balance of power which had emanated from the Napoleonic Empire. Great Britain was willing to support an international government whose purpose was to fore- stall the rise of a new conqueror from French soil and to that end to enforce the peace settlement of 1815 against France. The British conception of the status qxio was limited to the territorial settlement of 1815 and the exclusion of a member of the Napoleonic family from the French throne. In this re- spect there was no difference between the foreign policies of Casdereagh and Canning. The conception of the status quo which determined the policies of Rus^ sia from the beginning, and those of Austria, Prussia, and France from the end of the second decade of the nineteenth century, was unlimited territori- ally and as to subject matter. According to that conception, formulated in more uncompromising terms than the actual political conditions permitted to realize, it was the purpose of the international government of the Holy Alliance to maintain everywhere in the world the territorial status quo of 1815 and the constitutional status quo of the absolute monarchy. The instru- ment of the realization of the latter purpose was bound to be intervention into the internal affairs of all countries where the institution of the absolute mcsiarchy seemed to be in danger. The inevitable by-f^roduct of such intervention vras an increase in the power <£ the intervening states. The more widespread national and liberal movements became, the greater was the chance for the intervening state or states to increase their strength and to expand and thus to disturb ^balbi^ of power again. Tte main bendidary of such an eventuality was bmid m be Rssda. At tfe pcant Great l^itain and Russia parted company. riot for a quarter of a <^tury the Napo- lec^ momhhbi by the dynamic tie French Revolution, to ex- k&M a Russian Em^e, insured by the religious mysticism of uni- versal !]$olber!io(>d smd of government In the measure in which the spread dEmatioiiai and Iibml movements gave he Neo-Holy Alliance an oppokimfty to test ks principles, ^ intmeotiem, Great Britain held al^ fe poBcks. When in 1818 Rusria proposed to send an afikd army to ^ Spain in the war its American nstkmiG^ hf < 364 ) International Government by force of arms in 1823, acting on its own behalf, but with the moral sup- port of Austria, Prussia, and Russia. d ) Peace j Order, and the National Interest These actions of the Holy Alliance reveal two facts. One is the absence of a serious threat of war in any of these situations. The disparity of power be- tween the intervening state and the object of intervention — the revolution- ary group which had to contend not only with its own antirevolutionary compatriots, but also with a foreign army — was such as to give the inter- vention the character of a punitive expedition rather than of a war. The other fact is the determination of the policies of all nations by their national interests, however much the language of diplomacy of the period made concessions to the mystical predilections of the Russian Czar. This is most obvious in the actions of Great Britain. Neither Castlereagh nor Can- ning — who was particularly frank and eloquent in this respect — took pains to hide the fact that they were guided by the traditional interests of Great Britain limited only by the general interest in peace and security. Both the Austrian intervention in Italy and the French intervention in Spain were dictated by traditional nation^ interests. This connection is demonstrated by the very fact that the policy of interventions on the part of Austria and France in the affairs of their neighbors to the South survived the Holy Alli- ance by almost half a century. More important still in view of our discussion is the victory which the particular national interests gained over the general principles of the Holy Alliance whenever both came into conflict. This happened twice, in 1820 and in 1822. In both cases Russia proposed a collective intervention on the part of all the members of the Alliance and to that end offered to send a large Rus- sian army into Central and Western Europe. That Great Britain would have oppo^ such a proposal is obvious from what has already been said ctf the Britidi return to its traditional balance-of-power policy. That Great Britain should have been joined in this opposition by Austria, the other pillar of the Neo-Holy Alliance, shows the ideological character of the principles of the Holy Alliance. These principles were invoked when they seemed to be able to give moral justification to policies dictated by the national interest. They were discarded when nothing was to be gained for the national interest by invoking them. . The attitude of the powers, when in 1821 the Greeks revolted against the Turks, is instructive in this respect. This is also the only situation arising during the era of the Holy Alliance which contained the germs of a generd wiar and which in the century following it led time and again to the actual outbreak of war. The principles of the Neo-Holy Alliance left its members no choice in the attitude to be taken with respect to a national revolt against a legitimate government: the legitimate government ought to be given ac- tive support. Yet tins was not the ansvra: which the national interest of the most affected power demanded. Russia had been the traditional protector of the sul^ects of the Ottoman Empire who were of tte Orthodox Christian faidu The possession of Con- ( 365 ) Politics among "Nations stantinople was a centuries-old dream of the rulers of Moscow. Thus, when the Greek revolt broke out, the Russian Czar was inclined, in complete dis- regard of the principles of the Neo-Holy Alliance, to declare war against Turkey. Austria and Great Britain, on the other hand, could only see then, as they had done before and as they would for almost a century, with mis- givings the extension of Russian power in the Balkans and Russia’s advance toward the Mediterranean. Thus Castlereagh, the opponent of the Neo-Holy Alliance, and the Austrian Chancellor Metternich, its ardent supporter, joined hands in order to disstiade Russia from taking active steps in support of the Greek insurgents. That they made for that purpose successful use of the prin- ciples of the Neo-Holy Alliance against their author is an ironic comment on the difSculties facing a foreign policy which is based upon abstract prin- ciples rather than upon a clear recognition of the national interest. As Castle- reagh wisely put it: It is difficult enough in international affairs to hold the balance “between conflicting nations,” it is still more difficult to hold the bal- ance “between conflicting principles.” When, finally, in 1826 the danger of war between Russia and Turkey be- came acute, it was not the defunct Holy Alliance which averted it, but Can- ning’s audacious move of entering into an agreement with Russia for the purpose of forcing Turkey to make wncessions to the Greeks without Rus- sia’s gaining immediate advantages from such internal reforms. After Can- ning’s death the event occurred which Canning had been successful in pre- venting, and in 1828 Russia alone declared war on Turkey, thus having the latter at its mercy. The outbreak of this war may have had something to do with the decline of British statesmanship after Canning’s death. It certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with the absence of the international govern- ment of the Holy Alliance. Holy AlUancc, then, was a short-live d exoe^ ent which contributed ^ lining iK fUte'OpSillSlJTjilliiiU iJf dOliilnation it was successful for harcBy more than half a d^de. Two congenital infirmities made its early (kamise notable. One was the diametrical opposition between the two main members of tlx; Alliance as to what the dtfense of the status quo— upon they had all agreed as the guiding principle of justice in the abstract — aneaot in coocreie pmitical twms. That meaning was determined by the na- tional of the iBuld aa in unison as one collective body. If those inter- ests (fiverged, as they were bound to do from time m time and as they did pex2Q»iiei^ in ihe case at Great Britain and Russia, the Alliance ceased to {f>exaite. fnm whidi the H oly Allian ce suffered was ffje e pn- ef just iogT; oaKaiaE ^ti^ acao^^ IMrsoncentton otT Osnee adhered tn hy rb<» may fgitv of ffigjg ffmdu^ gov^n^ by the pS^ tiffi IMy ., /!!i iBaoe*»Ufie cumilct between tne priat^ ko oiri t ^tinwgBWlF’ malt and the prindples of ISberalism and nationalism made tte operation of an internation^ goveiamaa, in^jafd'by ^ dqpeodea* Hprm the (366) International Government continuous use of armed force in order to protect and restore absolute mon- archies and their possessions throughout the world. It is a matter for conjecture how long an international gpyernmcnt CQjtid ha ^ peifmiiied sudr aia sini^^ sliared the convictions tfe zeal of Alexancier 1 of Russia. The Holy Alliance could not prevail againsi die“opposiliOT" 5 f'some of its members and of the peoples subject to its rule. In the era of Castlereagh, that dual opposition moved on parallel lines, Castlereagh limiting himself to abstaining from active co-operation with the policies of the Neo-Holy Alliance. It was Canning’s great inno- vation, favored by the increasing strength of the national and liberal move- ments and later perfected by his successor Palmerston, to use those move- ments as allies for the purposes of British foreign policies, that is, as weights in the scales of the balance of power. With that innovation Canning ushered in the British policy toward the continent of Europe which was to remain dominant throughout the nineteenth century. The international government of the Holy Alliance lacked any kind of permanent organization and consisted, aside from the ephemeral ambassa- dorial committees mentioned above, of nothing but a number of interna- tional congresses for the purpose of settling current international affairs. Nev- ertheless, the Holy Alliance was an international government in the true sense of the term. A partial list of the issues which were on the agenda of the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle will illustrate the range of its governmental ac- tivities: the claims of the German mediatized princes against the abuses of their new sovereigns, the petition of the Elector of Hesse to exchange his title for that of king, the request by Napoleon’s mother for the release of her son, the grievances of the people of Monaco against their prince, the claims of Bavaria and the House of Hochberg to the succession in Baden, a dispute be- tween the Duke of Oldenburg and Count Bentinck about the lordship of Knupenhaussen, the situation of the Jews in Prussia and Austria, the rardc of diplomatic representatives, the suppression of the slave trade and of the Bar- bary pirates, the question of the Spanish colonies. e) The Concert of Europe In comparison with these widespread governmental activities of the Holy Allia nce flie ’ idb ikia eo fitui rwas 'T T: t i ^ i!«>itssiVTr. '' Tlie ol! 1 Ineht of great powers sitting in judgment overTRe affairs of the world did not reappear until in 1919 Ae Council of the League of Nations re-enacted the role which the Holy Alliance had played. Yet the era between the Holy AJImce and the League of Nations was not devoid of ad hoc attempts at set- tlingjntemational problems through the concerted action of the great pow- ers. Afe^ the demi^ of the Hedy Alliance the great powers continued to as- sume responability for the settlement of political issues which without such settlement might have led to war. That responsibility expressed itself in a number of conferences, dealing with problems endangering the peace, such as the Belgian question at the beginning of the 1830’s, the Eastern question at the beginning of the 1850’s and again in 1878, the problems of Africa at ( 367 ) Politics among Nations the bcgiaaing of the twentieth century. It was to that responsibility of the world/oF^f confer- as the Cppgg t of Europe, that Sir Edward Grey appEaTe J In' vSif oh the eve of the War. ^ The differed from a genuine mfeurilTwo respects. Qnd^one hah 3 ^T/w^ hof Tnsnmtidhali^^ B0»agimiia it among^'E'gyEat fn^WEI ^tb mee t regularly or to meet at all. The great powers met whenever the internaaonal situation seemed to de- mand concerted action. On the other hand, the Concert of Eggope was no hpl nlr^ndy^h^n pot^dlhy a strong moral consensus / which jcgaj]d4ra^e*1nal^^ and suppKedrsta3»dafds^4er”tOT^ i ud gmcnt riag d ^ acfions. The cleavage between nationalism and le:^fimacy which the French Revolution had opened remained open throughout the nineteenth century. It might at times narrow or widen, but it did not close. Only at the end of the First World War did the national principle triumph and virtually all legitimate governments disappear. Yet, despite the lack of a strong moral consensus, of an institutionalized government by conferences, let alone of an organized one, the Concert of Europe was most successful in preserving general peace during the ninety years of its existence. The only major international war which the world ex- perienced during that period, the Crimean War of 1854-56, was due to a se- ries of accidents. Had any one of these accidents failed to materialize the war might weE have been avoided, for the Concert of Europe had already agreed upon the formula for peace when a delay of twenty-four hours in the trans- mission of the formula changed the whole picture. Wf jat accounted for the 5tiirri>ss, nf the r^n ce^ of Europe ir ^ preventin g generaTwars.^ .t^ee tacton? nmy be mentioned, hist-my empty ^ces vrith accommodation of connicmig interests in^xiitantiy, however, that period of history saw a succession of brilliant di pic^B^ists and statesmaa who knew how to make peace, how to preserve pea^ and how to kcqp wars short and limited in scope. The portentous les- liidr wenk xxmvcys to our age will be ponoered later in this book. Z. THl XEAGtJE OF NATION^ Widi of die Fir:^ World War a new qxxh began in the history * See a^JQYc, pp. 1S7 C ^ Sec abo!?e^ pp. 27B £L (368 ) International Government a) Organization The League of Nations, in contrast to the Holy Alliance, was a real or- ganizati oii with a l egal personality, agents, and agencies of its ownlTfs p^^ liticaragencies were the Assembly, the CouncH^^jiid tariat. The Assembly was composed of representatives of all the member states. In the Assembly as well as in the Council each state had one vote and unanimity of all members present was required for all political decisions, in- cluding those which concerned the prevention of war.® The main exceptions - were Article 15, paragraph 10,® and the rule that in decisions concerning the settlement of international disputes the votes of the parties to the dispute were not to be counted. The Council consisted of two types of members: permanent and nonper- mangjat-AlI great powers, belonging at a particular time tcTthe League, were permanent memb^s, e.g., originally France, Great Britain, Italy, and Japan, to which were later added Germany and the Soviet Union. The nonperma- nent members numbered originally four. Their numbers were increased suc- cessively until in 1936 the Council comprised eleven nonpermanent members. Thus originally permanent and nonpermanent members were equal in num- bers. From 1922 on, the nonpermanent members had an ever increasing ma- jority over the permanent ones. In 1939, after Germany, Italy, and Japan had resigned and the Soviet Union had been expelled, the Council comprised two permanent (France and Great Britain) and eleven nonpermanent members. Yet what is important in view of the distribution of power between great and small nations is not their numerical relationship, but the permanent membership of the great powers in the Council. By virtue of this permanent membership, in conjunction with the rule of unanimity, the great powers could be sure that the Council could make no decisions without the consent of all of them. Furthermore, the distribution of voting strength in an inter- natiimal 2^?emcy never tells the whole story. No great power will ever be alone in voting in favor of or against a certain measure if it docs not want to be alwe, nor will any group of great powers ever risk to be outvoted if it is anxiom nc^ to be in the minority on a particular question. Most small and medium powers depend economically, militarily, and politically upon the support of a great power. Such a nation will h^dly cast its vote against a great power which has intimated that the smaller nation is expected to heed ® Cl. the emphasis which the Permanent Court of International Justice placed upon the prindi^ of unammity in the Advisory Oj^on concerning Artide 3, paragraph 2, of the Treaty of Lausanne (Frontier between Turkey and Iraq): ‘In a body . . . whose mission is to deal with any matto: ‘within the sphere of action of the League or affecting the peace of the world/ obwvancc of the rule of unanimity is naturally and even necessarily indicated. Only if the dixinons of the Council have the support of the unanimous consent of die Powers composing it, will they possess the d^ce of authority which they must have; the very prestige of the League rm^t be imperilW if it were admitted, in the abseiKe of an express provision to that effect, fiiat decisions on importam questions could be taken by a majority. Moreover, it is hardly conceivable ■ that resections on questions affecting the peace of the world could be adopted against the will of those amemgst the Members of the Council who, although in a minority, would, by reason of their political position, have to bear the larger share of the responsibilities and consequences ensuing therefrom.” (P. C. 1 . J. Series B, No. 12, p. 29). ® For the text see bdow, iK)€e 7. ( 369 ) Politics umong Nations the advice of the big brother. Thus every great power controlled a number of votes of the small and medium members of the League. On any important issue Prance could be certain of the votes of Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Yugo- slavia, Rumania, and — for more than a decade — Poland. Great Britain could count upon the votes of most of the dominions, of the Scandinavian countries, and of Portugal. This controlling influence of the great powers, regardless of the legal structure of the organization, operated in the League of Nations side by side with the brilliant intellectual leadership of the representatives of a number of small and medium nations, Benes of Czechoslovakia, Politis of Greece, Nan- sen, Lange, and Hambro of Norway, Branting and Unden of Sweden, Titu- lescu of Rumania, and Motta and Rappard of Switzerland exerted an influ- ence upon the work of the League of Nations out of all proportion to, and irrespective of, the power of their particular countries. The scene of that leadership was primarily the Assembly. The ^semblv of the T tions, in contrast to th^ General Assembly oi! the United Nations, the autnor l^ to render t^diq^ d^i^^^ol" 61 lly wllli fi3^^ margin erf iiLilil'Cato shrink in the mid-twenties in pn^jc^tion to the growA of Gorman stmr^, Brst slowly and impercep- i^ooat to power vrith ever increasing speed. In adtM the separatkm of the Irft bank of the Rhine from Great Britain and Ae United 1: vm abk to make only two additions to its own miroaf* -si^togA wldA hardly conceal^ its intrinsic weakness in oKnpameHi With Ae poteaodalitics erf German power. One adAtion was the alliances wiA Pola^ OzechdsfovaMa, and Rumania, and the treaty of jfriendAip wiA Yugpdavia. These al&s^ however, were M best medium states. Son^ if not afi of A^ were imEtarity overrated and could not be relied upon to act always in lis^on. The otto add-on was Ae Tr ades of ip2c ' aixtee of Great Bri International Government closed certain loophole left open by Covenant of the Leagu e of Na- — ^^^“tJtrder such conditions of hegemonial power in the short run and incur- able weakness in the long run, France started in the mid-twenties to follow in its policies within the League of Nations the British lead, at first hesitat- ingly, and in the thirties without alternative.® For by then France’s own in- decision and now apparent weakness incapacitated it to seek on its own ac- count the implementation of those provisions of the Covenant which could have enabled the League to play the role of an international government for the maintenance of international order and the prevention of war. France by itself had not the power to make the League play that role. Great Britain had no interest in making the League play it. For the performance of that role would have meant the perpetuation of unchallenged French supremacy on the European continent, which Great Britain was resolved to bring to an end. Thus the British conceptions and policies put their imprint upon the governmental activities of the League of Nations. c) Three Weaknesses of the League of Nations This is not to say that the League of Nations did not exercise important governmental functions. The League of Nations governed two territories: the Saar Basin and the City of Danzig. It governed indirectly — according to or''!Ailil!le LU bf Uindidons of the modem world, there should be applied the principle that the w^-being and development of such peoples form a sacred trust of civilisation and that securidcs for the p^ormance of this trust should be embodied in this Covenant. *^The best method of giving practical effect to this principle is that the tutelage of such pec^iies shotdd be entrusted to advancsed nadons who, by reason of their resources, their experi- ence car their gepgiaphi^ position, can best undertake diis responsibility, and who are willing to ^cept and dbat dds tutelage should be exercised by them as Mandatories on behalf of the League. ... “In every case of mandate, the Mandatory shall render to the Council an annual report in reference to ie territory committed to its charge. ‘The degree of authority, control or administradon to be exercised by the Mandatory shall, if not previously agreed upon by the Members of the League, be cxpliddy defined in each case by the Council. “A permanent Commission shall be consdtuted to receive and examine the annual reports of the Mandatories and to advise the Council on all matters relating to the observance of the mamlates.” ( 373 ) Politics among Nations in 1920 Poland seized Vilna, the old Lithuanian capital; for that violation of international law was committed by the strongest ally of France, The League of Nations refused to act when in 1923 Italy occupied the Greek island of Corfu* It did nothing even approaching the nature of enforcement action after Japan invaded Manchuria in 1931, and after it invaded China proper in 1937* The League did nothing to prevent or stop the Chaco War between i^livia and Paraguay in 1932-55 except to recommend an arms embargo at first against both belligerents and later against Paraguay alone. From 1935 on, the League did no^ng effective to maintain its authority within the ter- ritory of the City of Danzig, and it did nothing in the face of the continuous violations of the Treaty of Versailles by Germany. What the League did in 1935-36 with respect to Italy’s attack upon Ethiopia could not, as we have seen,^^ have been different had it been calculated to be ineffective. The League of Nations did nothing to control the international effects of the Spanish Civil War from 1936 on. In December 1939, however, the League expelled the Soviet Union because of its attack against Finland. It was the last and — -aside from the sanctions against Italy — the most radical of the League’s political actions. The League of Nations prevented no major war, and it was ineffective in maintaining international order. fnr jasiHp frpm t-hp of the British cnncentioq nv/>r ^|irppfn1(Wnn- s^fjutionaU structura L and_j2QlkkaL«^ ^"^Constitutional Weakness. Under the Covenant of the League of Na- tions, war as such was not outlawed. The members of the League were not al- lowed to go to war under certain conditions. By the same token they were allowed to go to war in the absence of those conditions. Thus the Preamble to the Covenant stipulated ‘^the acceptance of obligations not to resort to war.” Article 12 provided that the members should not “resort to war until three months after the award by the arbitrators. . . By virtue of Article 13, paragraph 4, the members agreed “that they will not resort to war against a member of the League which complies” with the judicial decision of a dis- pute, Finally, according to Article 15, paragraph 6, “If a report by the Council is unanimously agreed to by the members thereof other than the Representa- tives of one or more of the parties to the dispute, the Members of the League that Aey will not go to war with any party to the dispute which com- pfies with the recommendations of the report.” Only the two latter provisions contain an outright prohibition to go to war. As Mr. Jean Ray put it: "We are convinced that this timidity of the authors of the Covenant has serious cons^uences and puts in jeopardy the new system whidi they tried to erect. As a matter of fact, since the contrary opinion was not dearly expressed, k remained tadtiy admitted that war is a solution, the normal solution, of international conflicts. These obligations, as a matter of law, presented only as exertions; the implidt rule is the recourse to war ” ^ Even if the members had lived up to the provisions of See above, pp. 23^ 3^ 337. In contradistinette text: QUigadon/^) is more emphatic on that score. u ; Commentc^e du Pacte de la SociSi^ Mmaas (Paris: Sirey, 1930), pp. 73—4. ( 374 ) International Government the Covenant, they would have found in the fundamental law of the League an instrument for the prevention of some wars and for the legalization of others. Structural Weakness. This constitutional weakness, however, did not affect the actual operations of the League; for the League did not live up to its constitution. On the other hand, the structural w^ness of the League had a direct bearing upon its failure to prevent the wars which occurred un- der its jurisdiction. That weakness consisted in the contrast between the distribution of power within it and the distribution of power in the world at large. The structure of the League was predominantly European in a period when the main factors of international politics were no longer predominantly European. Both great powers which in turn dominated it, France and Great Britain, were European powers. The only non-European great power which was a member of the League was Japan. Of the two nations which were already in the twenties and thirties potentially the two most powerful nations on earth, the United States was never a member, the Soviet Union only during the League’s declining years from 1934-39. It is, of course, true that of the thirty-one original members only ten were European and only seven of the thirteen states which joined it later. But here again numbers do not tell the story. An international organization whose main purpose is the maintenance of international order and the preservation of international peace does not need to be universal in the sense that all nations of the world belong to it. It must, however, be universal in the sense that all powerful nations, which are most likely to disturb the peace of the world, are under its jurisdiction. Article 17 of the Covenant, therefore, attempted to make the jurisdiction of the League universal regardless of membership. It gave the League au- thority in case of a dispute between two states, one or both of which were not members of the League, to invite the nonmembers “to accept the obliga- tions of membership in the League for the purposes of such disputes, upon such conditions as the Council may deem just. ... If a state so invited shall refuse to accept the obligations of member^p and shall resort to war against a member of the League,” the sanctions of Article 16 shall be applicable against such a state. “If both parties to the dispute . . • refuse to accept the obligations of membership . . . the Council may take such measures, and make recommendations as will prevent hostilities and will result in the settlement of the dispute.” This kst paragraph of Article 17 endeavored to make the League ot Nations a world government for the purpose of preserving peace. The fea- sibility oE such a government must again depend upon the distribution of pow^ between the members of the League acting in unison and those states over which the governmental functions are to be exercised. The League would have had no difficulty in making its will prevail over two small or medium states. Let us suppose, however, that a dispute had broken out be- tween a member of the League, on the one hand, and the United States or the Soviet Union or both, on the other, or between the two latter powers any time between 1919 and 1934, when neither country was a mei^r of the ( 375 ) Politics among Nations I-eague. Under such circumstances, the attempt to impose the I-eague’s will upon the United States or the Soviet Union or both would have amounted to a world war between the members of the League and either one or two of the potentially most powerful nations on earth, with a number of non- member states either joining the latter or remaining neutral. The attempt to preserve peace on a universal scale would have led to war on a*" universal scale.^^ Thus the membership of some great powers and the nonmembership of other great powers rendered the League powerless to preserve peace on a world-wide scale. This lack of universality in the membership of the great powers also in- dicates the fundamental reason for the failure of British and French policies in the period between the two world wars. The policies of both countries were anachronistic. The policies of France might perhaps have succeeded in the age of Louis XIV. Then the main weights of the bdance of power were located in Central and Western Europe, and such a preponderance as France gained in 1919 would have given it a real chance to establish its permanent hegemony over the continent. Yet after Russia had become one of the main factors in the balance of power, Napoleon had to learn that a hegemony over the European continent meant little with the resources of Eastern Europe and of the better part of Asia either uncommitted or hostile. This lesson was heeded by the brilliant French diplomatists who in the two decades pre- ceding the First World War founded French foreign policy upon close ties with Russia. Their successors in the period between the two world wars based their hopes upon a system of alliances with the balkanized countries of Eastern and Southeastern Europe, a poor substitute for the "‘grand alliance” with Russia. Cft)scssed with the fear of revolution, very much like the French aristocrats in the years after 1789, they were ready to commit national suicide rather than to yield to the logic of a new international constellation. British foreign policy in that period was as anachronistic as the French. Great Britain was intrinsically as weak with regard to the continent of Europe as France was with regard to Germany. The role which Russia played in relation to France, the United States and, to a much lesser degree, Japan played in relation to Great Britain. A policy which was still successful m the of E&raeli was doojned to failure in the age of Stanley Baldwin. Thios|^ia the nineteenth century. Great Britain's backyard, as it were, h&m the British Navy controlled the seas without challenge. In • the titoie^odber great naval powers had arisen, one c£ them potentially the most powerful natba on earth. Furthermore, the airplane brought the &idsh Mes to the than they had ever been before. Under such oc«iditions, British fm^rign policy had two ahemadves. It could place its weight pennanteady m of tte &irc^)ean balance of power where British interests in rro sesetned to be mc^ secure. Or it could make itself the ofc A^ittkan pcrficy in What Briti^ pc^icy Tlifi r«suler wHl rqwibier tlat tli^ ki tiie to cjost when collective ia d pp. 33a ff. Iff It is worthy d (376) International Government could not do was to continue the policy of ‘‘splendid isolation.” And this is what it did. It will remain forever a moot question whether or not France and Great Britain had any real choice in the face of the policies actually pursued by the Soviet Union and the United States. It is, however, beyond doubt that an international government never had a chance whose leading members, either by choice or by necessity, followed policies so completely at odds with the actual distribution of power in the world. Political Weakness. This would have been true even on the assumption that the League of Nations had been able to act as a unit in the face of a threatening war of major proportions. Actually this assumption was never realized Divergent national interests pursued by the great powers prevailed over the principles of justice defined by the League of Nations in terms of the status quo. In 1921, immediately iEter the First World War, the four permanent members of the Council of the League were still able to act in imison with respect to relatively important political issues, such as the for- tification of the Aaland Islands involving Finland and Sweden and the partition of Upper Silesia which was a bone of contention between Germany and Poland. After these promising beginnings, it was not only the conflict between France and Great Britain which incapacitated the League for col- lective action on matters of major importance, but the separate and generally antagonistic policies of the great powers. When Germany joined the League in 1925, it pursued a policy of under- mining the status quo of Versailles, mainly using the principle of national self-determination as the dynamite with which to crack the foundations of the territorial status quo. This policy was at odds with the policies of France and its Eastern allies and was aimed, first surreptitiously and later openly, at the termination of their preponderance on the continent of Europe. In addi- tion to the principle of national self-determination, Germany, used the dual fear Bolsl^st revolution and Russian imperialism, which obsessed the Western powers, as a weapon with which to strengthen its own position. While alternately ofiering itself as a bulwark against Bolshevism and threat- ening to ally itself with the Soviet Union, Germany was able to wring con- cessions from the Western powers, to isolate Poland from France, and to paralyze the League. Itdy, on its part, pursued in the twenties a policy which was somewhat similar to the one pursued by Great Britain. Italy welcomed the comeback of Germany within certain limits as a means to weaken France and its Eastern alli^ e^)ecially Yugoslavia. When in the thirties the impotence of the League become obvious, Italy used Germany as Germany was using the 5 ovkt Union: alternately as common menace and as a silent partner, and made an open bid again^ Great Britain and France for domination of the Mediterranean. The Soviet Unkm was as isolated within the League as it had been vrith- out Its potential ^rength as a nation and its sponsorship of world revolution made it a dual menace to dbe Webern powers. It proved to be impossible for France, Great Britain, and the Soviet Union to unite for common action in ( 377 ) Politics among Nations any o£ the great crises from 1934-39, with the exception of the sanctions against Italy. In all those crises the Western powers and the Soviet Union found themselves in opposite camps. The Spanish Civil War is the outstand- ing example of this chronic antagonism. Even when in 1939 Germany threatened both the Soviet Union and the Western powers with war, they were unable to agree upon common preventive action. Instead, each side tried to deflect the threatening stroke of lightning against the other side. It was only the accident of Hitler’s folly to wage war against both at the same time that made them allies despite themselves. Finally, Japan, smarting under the inferiority which the treaties of 1922 had imposed upon it, prepared for the moment when it could establish its own hegemony in the Far East, Japan could do so only by dislodging Great Britain and the United States from their positions in the Far East and by “closing the door” to China which, as a matter of traditional policy. Great Britain and the United States had insisted upon keeping open for all nations. Thus, when Japan took the first step toward establishing its Far Eastern empire by invading Manchuria in 1931, it could not help but come into conflict with France and Great Britain, the leading members of the League of Nations. It is not without ironic significance that Japan, in establishing its dominion, made use of the same principle of national self-determination which had carried France and Great Britain to dominance in the League of Nations. Now it was employed to rally the colored races of the Far East against the colonialism of the leaders of the League. Yet neither while Japan remained a member of the League nor after its resignation in 1932 did Great Britain feel strong enough to lead the League in effective collective action in ortfcr to stop Japan’s attack against China. Tl ^ ability of the League of Nations to rntyent war was predicatei -±he UT^ or Its members and espeaaily 01 the great powers. By^ th&.priwp ' ' ^ ■ d Tipcm. virtue of dispute.^m ii1d veto a bv voting agai^ a motion to take action. Given the antagonistic policies pursued l>y ttie leading members ot the League, the very likelihood of a veto impeded even attempts at decisive col- lective action. Only an overriding principle of justice could have made such aedon possible. As we have seen, such principles of justice did exist in the ab^ract as a>llective defense of the status quo against the nations vanquished in Ae First World War and as national s^-determination. Confronted with a political situamn ckmanding concrete action, these abstract principks transf canned themselves into ideological justifications for die sepame policies patm^ by the individual nations. Thus these abstract principles ci fUstio^ far from {^viding common standards of judgment and guixif of 4ome^ jurisdicdon has upon inteniatiofiai dj|%adoiis, See above, pp, 255, 256. ( 382 ) International Government harmony with the rules of international law and with the principle of na- tional self-determination. It is significant that the Charter is most explicit in elaborating and im- plementing the first two purposes (cf. particularly Chapters VI and VII) and that it is virtually silent with regard to the remaining three. Article ii, paragraph i, and Article 24, paragraph 2, refer the General Assembly and the Security Council in general terms to the Purposes and Principles as guides for dieir deliberations and actions. But the concrete meaning of con- cepts, such as justice, respect for international law, and national self-deter- mination, is not self-evident nor is it the same everywhere and at all times. In the abstract, most men may be able to agree upon a definition of those terms. It is the concrete political situation which gives these abstract terms a concrete meaning and enables them to guide the judgment and actions of men. Nowhere in the main body of the Charter is there a definition of, or reference to, a substantive principle of justice. Nor are there any other sources which would give unequivocal content to these abstractions. Here is the core of the disease which from the very beginning has prevented the international government of the United Nations from coming to life. c) The Undefined Status Quo: the Soviet Union vs. the United States When the Holy Alliance and the League of Nations were established, there already existed a status quo, a certain distribution of power agreed upon by all the major members of the international government. That pre- existing political order was the foundation upon which the international gov- ernment was built and which gave concrete meaning to its principles of jus- tice. Dissensions arose as to the interpretation of that status quo and to its further development. The status quo itself, won in a common victory over a common enemy and defined in treaties of peace, was the common start- ing pcttnt for all concerned. After the Second World War, the would-be peacemakers reversed the sequence. They first created an international government for the purpose of maintaining the status quo and after that proposed to agree upon the status quo. To this day no such agreement has been reached. It has been said that this reversal of the traditional sequence was a mas- ter stroke of statesmanship; for it spared the Charter of the United Nations the fate which the Covenant of the League of Nations received at the hands of the United States Senate. Being an integral part of the Treaty of Versailles, the Covenant fell with that treaty. The Charter, standing alone, was not af- fected by whatever criticism might be leveled against the settlement of the Second World War. Be that as it may, the erection of a structure of international government upon what proved to be no political foimdation at all has been a failure which threatens to come crashing down and bury the peace of the world be- neath its ruins. The United Nations is like a building designed by two archi- tects who have agreed upon the plans for the second floor, but not upon those for the first. Each of them builds his wing of the first floor as he sees fit, each doing his best to obstruct the efforts of the other. In consequence, not only ( 383 ) Politics among Nations does the second floor become an nnlivable abode, but the whole structure threatens to disintegrate. Provisional Character of the Status Quo. The new territorial status quo which has existed since the end of the Second World War is in the main a military one. In the relations between the United States and the Soviet Union it consists of the lines of demarcation upon which Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States agreed at Yalta in 1945. Both sides have recog- nized these lines of demarcation as provisional. The internal organization of Germany remains likewise provisional; the very future of a unified German state is in doubt. The same holds true for Austria. There is no agreement as to the Western frontiers of Germany. With regard to the Eastern frontiers, there is outspoken disagreement between the Soviet Union and Poland claiming that these frontiers were definitely determined by the Potsdam Agreement of 1945, and the Western powers which regard these frontiers as provisional and subject to final determination by a peace conference. Not only is the territorial status quo in Europe provisional, but the reason for its being provisional is the seemingly unbridgeable disagreement between the Soviet Union and the Western powers as to what a definite status quo should be like. In their defeat, Germany and Austria have become a bone of conten- tion between the East and the West. The Soviet Union wants to keep con- trol of the sections of these countries which it occupies at present and to dis- lodge the Western powers from the zones which they control, and vice versa. This tension between the East and the West is all-pervading and para- lyzes the international government of the United Nations not only in its over-all functions, but also in what are in themselves only technical matters of secondary importance. To what extent this is true can be gathered from the h<^)eie$s impasse which has made it impossible for the East and the West to agree upon the selection of a governor for the Free Territory of Trieste. Trieste is the main Mediterranean outlet for trade from Central and East- ern Europe and the main port of the Adriatic. As such, Trieste has been cov- eted by Yugoslavia since the dissolution of the Austrian Empire in 1919 when the city was given to Italy. In tl^ peace treaty with Italy the Allies were abk to agree upon a compromise which made Trieste a Free Territory. Not unlike the way in which Danzig was governed from 1919 to 1939, Tri- es^ was to be governed by the United Nations through a governor to be ap- foimed by the Security CoundL^ The Soviet Union did not want to stoigdbea the West by hmmg the dty unerior army to take possession of that coveted prize, the superior navy of Great Britain would block the way, ei- th^ alone or in conjunction with the Austrian army. Only once did Russia seem virtually to have reached the go^d of its ambition when, during the First World War, Great Britain promised Russia the Dardanelles as one of the prizes of victory. Yet the separate peace which the Bolshevist regime con- duded with the Gmtral Powers annulled the promise. The traditional role of Great Britain is now being performed by the United States. Otherv^im the basic constellation has not changed. What the Soviet Union wants, the United States refuses to concede. The United States wants to maintain the status qmx with respect to the Dardanelles; the Soviet Union wants to* change it. For more than a century the problem of Greece has been intimately con- ( 385 ) Politics among Nations nected with the problem of the Dardanelles. Greece flanks Turkey to the West, and the Dodecanese Islands lie athwart the Mediterranean approaches to the Dardanelles, Great Britain has traditionally considered Greece an in- dispensable factor for the defense of the Dardanelles and, hence, as lying within the British sphere of influence. In an informal understanding in 1944, Great Britain and the Soviet Union divided the Balkans on traditional lines, leaving Greece within the British sphere of influence. This understanding meant the ratification of the status quo which for a century had existed in the Balkans. The United States has become the successor of Great Britain as the pro- tector of Greece from Russian influence. Yet the Greek civil war has reopened the question of the status quo seemingly setded by the Russo-British agree- ment of 1944. For the revolt against the Greek government is more than a domestic upheaval. Thc' revolutionaries arc supported by Albania, Yugo- slavia, and Bulgaria, three Russian satellites which would not give such aid without Russian approval. Since the Communists are the dominant group among the revolutionaries, their victory would of necessity mean the exten- sion of Russian influence to the Aegean. Thus the issue of the Greek civil war is explicidy the status quo in the Balkans between the Soviet Union and the Unit^ States and implicitly the control of the Dardanelles. We have already mentioned the traditional role which Iran has played in the relations between Great Britain and Russia.^^ British and Russian influ- ence has fluauated back and forth on the territory of Iran. Uneasy compro- mises have from time to time attempted to limit Russian influence to the north and British influence to the south, both countries most of the time try- ing to expel the other side from its sphere and to extend its own over the whole of Iran. During the Second World War, Russian troops occupied the north and British troops the south of Iran. In an agreement concluded in 1942, both countries pledged themselves to evacuate their troops within six months after the conclusion of hostilities and thus to restore the status quo ante helium, Russian troops stayed on after the expiration of the time limit, and it needed pressure exerted in the Security Council to bring about the withdrawal of Russian troops in 1946. In excliinge, Iran granted the Soviet Union oil concessions in the northern part of the country. Yet in 1947 the Iranian fmliament, yielding to American pressure, refused to ratify the treaty. Thus the question of the status quo has been reopened by both sides and remains unaided. Finally, the Yalta Agreement of 1945 between Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and the United States, and the subsequent agreements between China and tht Soviet Union provided for the internationalization of the Chinese port of Dairen, the lease of Port Arthur to the Soviet Union as a naval base, and the joint Russo-Chinese operation of the Chinese Eastern and South Manchuria railways. These arrangements amounted to the restoration of the status quo betw^n China and the Soviet Union which had existed before the Russo-Japanese War of 1904. But the Chinese civil war has rai^ the question of tte status quo again. See above, pp. 39, 40. ( 386 ) International Government The Chinese civil war is, on the one hand, a domestic problem of China. Be- cause of the ideological affinity between the Chinese Communists and the Russian regime, the civil war poses the same problem which the Boxer Re- bellion of 1900 and the Japanese invasions of 1931 and 1937 had posed: the problem of the Open Door. Yet it is a new version of the old problem. The traditional policy of the Open Door meant to keep the Chinese door open for everybody, with everybody having equal oppprtunity and with no- body receiving special privileges. The new policy of the Open Door aims at keeping the door of China wide open for one country and keeping it tightly shut for others. If the government wins the civil war, it is supposed that the door will be shut for the Soviet Union and kept open for the Western pow- ers. If the Communists win, it is anticipated that the Chinese door will be open for the Soviet Union and closed for the Western powers. Thus the stakes of the Soviet Union and of the United States in the Chinese civil war are the exercise of exclusive influence over the natural and population re- sources of China. The status quo with regard to China is, then, completely in flux. The outcome of the civil war is supposed to decide whose influence will prevail in China: that of the United States or that of the Soviet Union.^^ From Stettin to Mukden the status quo is unsettled, the United States and the Soviet Union promoting setdements which are mutually exclusive. Yet these are the two nations upon whose agreement as to what the status quo shall be and how it shall be enforced the international government of the United -Nations is predicated. The United Nations cannot bring this agreement about. It presupposes it. Since such agreement has never existed during the short life of the United Nations, the international government of the United Nations, envisaged by the Charter, has not become a reality. Experience has shown that the attempt to use the United Nations for the purpose of forcing upon either of the superpowers such agreement only ag- gravates the disagreement and increases the danger of war. We have already seen that the Charter enables the United Nations, that is, the United States and the Soviet Union acting in unison, to prevent wars among the other na- tions. Built upon the foundation of the United States and the Soviet Union acting as one, the United Nations is constitutionally unable to prevent a war between those two countries. Yet it is such a war which today threatens the United States, the Soviet Union, and all mankind. Por its prevention we must look elsewhere than to the United Nations. 22 The 450 million Chinese might, however, decide — regardless of who should win the civil war — that it should be neither and that Chinese influence should prevail in China. ( 387 ) PART NINE THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY; PEACE THROUGH TRANSFORMATION CHAPTER XXVI The World State Our investigation of the problem of international peace has left us with two conclusions: no attempt to solve the proble m of international peace by lim- iting the national as p i ratio ns for jpower has^u and none coul d have' succee ded under th e conditions of the modern state system. WEat, tHeh,”~a<> counts for the instability of peace an3^ordef~Ih~the relations among states, and what accounts for tiieir relative stability within states ? In other words, what factor making for peace and order exists within national societies, which is lacking on the international scene? The answer seems to be obvi- ous — it is the state itself. National societies owe their peace and order to the existence of a state which, endowed with supreme power within the national territory, keeps peace and order. Such was indeed the doctrine of Hobbes who argued that without such a state national societies would resemble the international scene and the war “of every man against every man” ^ would be the universal con- dition of mankind. From this premise it was logically inevitable to conclude that peace and order among nations would be secure only within a world state comprising all the nations of the earth. Since the breakdown of the universal order of the Middle Ages this conclusion has been advanced from time to time.^ Under the impact of two world wars within a quarter of a century and the prospects of a third one to be fought under the modern conditions of warfare, the propaganda for a world state has reached broad masses and has imparted to them a peculiar sense of urgency. We are told that we are lost if we should fail to establish a world state within the period of a few years. What is needed in order to save the world from self-destruction is not the limitation of the exercise of national sovereignty through international obli- gations and institutions, but the transference of the sovereignties of indi- vidual states to a world authority which would be as sovereign over the individual nations as the individual nations are sovereign within their re- spective territories. Reforms within the international society have failed and were bound to fail. What is needed, then, is a radical transformation of the ^ Cliapter XHI. 2 Ci tbe 9hovc, pp. 3^,09, 310. ( 391 ) Poliucs among Nations existing international society of sovereign nations into a supranational com- munity of individuals. The argument rests upon an analogy with national societies. It is, there- fore, our first task to find out how peace and order are preserved in national societies. I. CONDITIONS OF DOMESTIC PEACE Peace among social groups within the state reposes upon a dual founda- tion: the disinclination ofth^^^ of society tojbreak the peace jmd their inability to bre^ the peace if diey should be so inclined. Individuals will be unable to break the peace if overwhelming power makes an attempt to break it a hopeless undertaking. They will be disinclined to break the peace under two conditions. On the one hand, they must feel loyalties to^s cw ciet y as a whole which surpas s their loyalties to any part of it. On the other^ hand, thej must be able to expe a from s ociety at least an approximation to justi^ through the at le ast partial ^ sfaction of their deman T^e presence of these three conditions — overwhelming force, suprasectiqnal loyalt ies, ex- pectation of justice — makes pea ce p ossible within st^es. The absence of these conditions on the international scene evokes the dange r of wa r. What are the factors which make for the presenc^f these "conditions ? And what is the role which the state plays in this respea? A closer consid- eration of the interplay of social forces which make for peace within the state will help us to answer these questions. a) Suprasectional Loydties National societies are composed of a mulriplid^ of social groups., Some o£ th ese arc antagonistic^o each other in the sej^ that their res^ctive c laims autuaily exclusive. T hat mutual exclusiveness of opposingi^T^irns js are mn . ^ = . t io^ly, obvious in the economic sphere where one group ngtay demand a dbare in tly gnomi c produa which another group refuses to grant. T his tlie ^ d^ oFl^roSts is oiJy a s^aacular instance o f a socia^ pbenom^on. Pohdcal parties, reli^ous cfenomin^tl onsrra- meet in similar contests. ,How are tK se" tvfl r pp^yentcH^&om di^eSraSng into violence ? dttzen ^ who as a meml^ of economic group Ei opposes unable ‘ bf another economic group Ea, is unable to identify ^ Ei and to give it his undivided loyalties. He is un- !5 rewps. rdSalcys^ group R . the po- The World State -then, tends to impress upon the participants the relat ivity o f their interests and loyalties and thus to nntigate the clashes o£ different gro^)s. This plural- ism brings about, as it were, an economy of „the. intensity of identifi^tion, which must be spread wide in order to give every group and conflict its share. Furthermore, while A as a member of Ei opposes B as a member of E2, he might find himself on the same side of the fence with B, both being mem- bers of P. In other words, A and B are enemies in the economic sphere, yet they are friends in politics. They are opposed to each other economically, yet they are united politically. A and B are also members of religious, ethnic, and regional groups, and so forth, and both of them may have similar rela- tions of conflict and association with any number of members of these groups. A, then, is not only at the same time identified with a plurality of different social groups, he is also as a member of these different groups simul- taneously the friend and foe of any number of his fellows, in so far as they belong to different groups of which he is either a member or an opponent. This plura l rol e of friend and oppo nent wluch A plays with regard to a number of his fell o ws imposes restrai nts upon him as both a friend and^a foe. He cannot identifyUmseff completely with his poIiticarSiends who are also his economic opponents without the risk of losing the struggle_fpr eco- , no mic advantag e. He cann ot push the struggle for ec onomic a d vant age to extremes without losing the political support which he needs as a. member of „ The political group. I f A wants to be economic opponent and political friend at the same time, he must take care to be both within such limits that one docs not get in the way of the other. Thus the overlapping of social roles played by different members of society tends to neutralize conflicts and to re- strain them within such limits as to enable the members of society to play their different roles at the same time. Finally, A and B are not only members of contending economic groups and have not only identical political affiliations, not to speak of all the other social groupings to which they belong, but by definition they are also mem- bers of the same national society. They partake of the same language, the same customs, the same historic recollections, the same fundamental social and political philosophy, the same national symbols. They read the same newspapers, listen to the same radio programs, observe the same holidays, and worship the same heroes. Above all, they compare their own nation with other nations and realize how much more they have in common with each other than with members of the other nations. More particularly, they realize that the national characteristics which they have in common are su- perior in all impcctant respects, especially those of morality, to the qualities of tho^ who bdong to a different nation. Thus A and B come to feel not only that they Wong to the same national family, but also that because of- that family ration they have something very precious in common, some- thing ths^ enhance^ their worth and makes them “better’’ men in every im- pM^ant r^pect in mmparfeon vrith outsiders. . The;S^if^pect of A and B as well as tl^ esteem in which they hold each otW k-i^lmatrfy counted with their membership in the same national commnnityi Their inteltoual convictions and moral valuations derive from ttet membership gives vicarious satisfaction to their Politics among Nations power drives has already been related in detail.^ The loyalties with which they cling to the nation are more than the mere repayment of a debt of grat- itude for benefits received. Tl^jLarejh^jvexy^onjMons^ is^ only by being faithful to the nation, by adhering to it as to the fountain- he^ of all earthly goods, by identifying one’s self with it that one will ex- perience as one’s own the security of belonging, the exultation of national pride, the triumphs of the Fatherland in the competition with other nations.^ Thus protection of the nation against destruction from without and disrup- tion from within is the overriding concern of all citizens. Likewise, loyalty to the nation is a paramount commitment of all citizens. Nothing can be tolerated that might threaten the coherence of the nation. Interests, ideas, and loyalties which might not be compatible with the concern for the unity of the nation must yield to that concern. This concern imposes an ever present limitation upon the kind of issues which separate A and B and places ever present restraints upon the meth- ods by which A and B fight these issues out. Whatever the stakes of their conflicts, they will not raise the issue of national unity itself. Whatever methods A and B may employ in order to settle the conflict on their own terms, they will not resort to measures which might put the coherence of the nation itself in jeopardy. All conflicts within a nation are thus limited as to objectives pursued and means employed. They are, as it were, embedded within the densely woven fabric of the national community which keeps them within bounds. In conjunction with the pluralism and overlapping of sectional loyalties it is the limiting and restraining influence of national loy- alties which constitutes the first of the three factors which make for peace within the nation. b) Expectation of Justi ce How do national societies create the expectation on the part of hostile so- cial groups that none of their claims will be completely ignored, but that all have a chance for at least partial satisfaction? How are all contending groups enabled to expect at least an approximation to justice from the national soci- ety to which they belong? In national societies the problem of justice is posed on two levels. One is sge^c claims advanced by particular groups. On the level o f gen- eral priSSpfc no threat to t^ p^ce arises, for ^1 are agreed upon the gen- eral pruK^ies by which tte common good of society is defined. Principles, such as demroracy, social justice, equsdity, freedom of speech, do not give rise to conflicts entfangerh^ the peap. 450 ff. ^ See a^e, pp. 343, 34B. ( 395 ) Politics among Nations not a bias in favor of any particular status quo. The compulsory organiza- tion of American society has defended the status quo of 1800, of 1900, of 1932, and of 1940. The compulsory organization of British society has supported in succession the status quo of feudalism, capitalism, and socialism. Yet it may be that a particular status quo is offensive to the fundamental moral convictions and the vital interests of a considerable portion of the popula- tion and that a considerable fraction of the enforcement oflScials sympathize with their uncompromising opposition to the status quo. In such a case, the legal order embodying the status quo will not be enforced. In the United States the constitutional background of the Civil War and the fate of pro- hibition illustrate that case. The other characteristic peculiar to the compulsory organization of na- tional societies is the scarcity of its collective action. As a rule, the compul- sory organization of national societies maintains peace and order only against individual lawbreakers. It is a rare exception for it to oppose as a collective force another collectivity which threatens to disturb the peace. The use of force in labor disputes is the outstanding example of this kind. The very ex- istence, in the hands of society, of a monopoly of organized violence, ready to intervene in case of need, seems to be the main contribution of organized violence to the maintenance of domestic peace. The very fact of its existence relieves the compulsory organization of society from the necessity to act. Aside from this factor and probably surpassing it in importance, there is the enormous tmorganized pressure which society exerts upon its members for keeping the peace. A group, in order to be able to escape that pressure, would have to erect within the very framework of the national society a so- cial structure of its own, more integrated, more compelling, and command- ing higher loyalties than the nation^ society in whose midst it exists. In our times the intensity of nationalism, its transformation into the political reli- gion of nationalistic universalism, the ubiquity of the modern mass media of communications, and their control by a smdl and relatively homogeneous group have multiplied and magnified the social pressures which in national societies tend to keep dissenting groups ’within the bounds of law and peace. Hide of the State is lhe . Xi>rtfri h u ri of t he state tp the maintenance of domestic m b ut another name for the comptdsory Organization of t^ lqgal order <£5’^^ the conditio ns under wtii^ ’vrolenc^ forlhe Whm "we have spoken in the preceding pages of the .w. .. ^ ^ ^ ^ legal or^r sodety we have really the ^ale is of the factors space, as a services and bestows The World State other social groups except the family and the church receive, (2) T h e state provides most of the institutionalized agencies and processes of social change, (3) The state provides the agencies for the enforcement of its laws. It remains for us to determine how important the state’s contribution to domestic peace is. The answer to this question is twofold. The state’s contri- bution to domestic peace is indispensable, but it is not in itself suflScient. Without the state’s contribution there can be no domestic peace, but with nothing but the state’s contribution there can be no domestic peace either. That there can be no domestic peace without the state is already implicit in what we have said about the problems of power, of the balance of power, and of sovereignty. Hostile social groups will use whatever means are at their disposal for the purpose of gaining the objectives which they consider vital to themselves. If such social groups control the means of physical vio- lence, as sovereign states do in their mutual relations, they will use them in two different ways. They will either exert pressure upon their opponents by displaying what they consider to be their superiority, or they will employ them for the destruction of the opponent’s means of physical violence. In either alternative the purpose of physical violence is the breaking of the opponent’s will to resist the demands of the other side. The history of national societies shows that no political, religious, eco- nomic, or regional group has been able to withstand for long the tempta- tion to advance its claims by violent means if it thought it could do so with- out too great a risk. However strongly the other social factors might have supported the cause of peace, their e&ctiveness did not long survive the promise of a speedy and definitive victory which violence holds out to its possessor. Thus national societies have disintegrated and have split into a number of smaller units, either temporarily or permanently, whenever the state was incapable of maintaining its monopoly of organized violence and of using whatever means of violence it retained for the purpose of maintain- ing peace and securing its own survival. Since whoever is able to use violence will use it if the stakes seem to jus- tify its use, a social agency is needed which is strong enough to prevent £hat use. Society might find substitutes for the legal unity which the state con- veys to it in time and space and for the agencies for social change through wHch the state regulates the dynamics of tie social processes. Society has no substitute for the power of the Leviathan whose very presence, towering above contending groups, keeps their conflicts within peaceful boimds. The state is indispensable for the maintenance of domestic peace. Such is the true message of Hobbes’s philosophy. Yet the state by itself cannot main- tain domestic peace. Such is the great omission of Hobbes’s philosophy. ^ha^ the state i s- e s sentialj but n ot jufficient. to keep the peace of na- ^ iionk soqeties is dem nnfttram d by there had b^ only £ew of them over a long period of history they might be chsregartfcfd as exceptions to the rule. However, Professor Quincy Wright has shtr^ ttet.of a ^ jWo^^pBdr ctha n J s cyefl ty>eighL. warfi foiig^^b etjsmu per cent of th e 4 Qta]r-‘«nvere civil waig^^^g^ T th^ r a ^ betwe e n , ck iL and international war gT :was; the kttcn^proxima gli^^^ ■ ' ( 397 ) Politics among Nations to three. For the period between 1800 and 1941, the figures are twenty-eight for civil and eighty-five for international wars with the ratio being almost exactly one to three.® Concerning the costliness of civil wars Professor Wright observes: ‘‘Civil wars such as the French. Huguenot wars of the sixteendx century, the British War of the Roses of the fifteenth century ^d thi^ Civil of the seventeenth century, the Thirty Years^ War from the stan.d- Minrbr Germany, the Peninsula War,~£rom the standpoint of Spain, the American Civil War, and the Chinese Taiping Rebellion were costly both in lives and in economic losses far in excess of contemporary internatipual wars.” ^ The frequency and destructiveness of civil wars demonstrates that the ex- istence of the state g^ves no assurance for the preservation of domestic peace. The reason is to be sought in the nature of the state itself. The state is not a thing apart from society, but is a product of society. The state is not the arti- ficial creation of a constitutional convention, conceived in the image of some abstract principles of government and superimposed upon whatever society there might exist. On the contrary, the state is what the society is from which it has sprung, and prospers and decays as society prospers and decays. The peace of a society whose intergroup conflicts are no longer limited, restrained, and neutralized by overriding loyalties, whose processes of social change no longer sustain the expectation of justice in all the major groups, and whose unorganized forces of compulsion are no longer sufficient to im- pose conformity upon those groups — the peace of such a society cannot be saved by the state, however strong. The forces of destruction arising within society in the form of class, racial, religious, regional, or purely political strug- gles will erupt in revolutions, coups d’etat, and civil war. The state does not stand apart from these conflagrations as a fire department stands apart from fires, ready to extinguish them when they break out. The state is inevitably involved in these conflagrations in a dual sense. On the one hand, the state is the prime target of revolution, against which it must defend itself by the use of force. On the other hand, the dissensions which disrupt society also split its compulsory organization, the state. The state, then, will either cease to op- erate as one body, its discordant parts will join the warring groups in society at large, and the unity of the state will dissolve in civil war. Or — what is more Ehdy in our time in view erf the modern technology of war — the which divide the people are fou^t out not by the people at large, but intmjeeme strug^fes within the organization of the state in the ionhof coups d’^at, con^iracics, and purges.® Z. Tttm PROBLEM OF THE WORL 0 STATE Our anrfym trf domestic peace has Aown that the argu- ment of tht advoc^es of &e woM is umnswerahle: W^^ asti^te coextensive with the cemfe ^ A Study of War 7 lUd.^ p. 247. 1943^), ( 398 ) The World State of the pol itical world. The question which calls now for our attention con-* cerns the way in which a world state can be created. In the first chapter of his Considerations on Representative Government, John Stuart Mill faced the same problem with respect to particular forms of government. The two “conflicting conceptions of what political institutions are,” which Mill found to be at the basis of all discussions of his problem, determine also the discussions of how to create a world state. By one school of thought “government is conceived as strictly a practical art, giving rise to no questions but those of means and an end. Forms of government are as- similated to any other expedients for the attainment of human objects. They are regarded as wholly an affair of invention and contrivance. Being made by man, it is assumed that man has the choice either to make them or not, and how or on what pattern they shall be made. ... To find the best form of government; to persuade others that it is the best; and having done so, to stir them up to insist on having it, is the order of ideas in the minds of those who adopt this view of political philosophy. They look upon a constitution in the same light (difierence of scale being allowed for) as they would upon a steam plough, or a threshing machine.” The other school of thought regards government “as a sort of spontane- ous product, and the science of government as a branch (so to speak) of nat- ural history. According to them, forms of government are not a matter of chpice. We mmtjake them, ralhe main, as we find them. Governments can-: not be conStnicteCfcp^^ design. They 'are not made, but grow.’ • . . The fund amental political institutions of a people are considered by this school as^a life- of that people : a. product of their habitsyinst incts^ and unconscious wants and desires, scarcely at all of their deliberate purposes. Their will has had no part in the matter but that of meeting the necessities of the moment by the contrivances of the moment, which contrivances, if in sufficient conformity to the national feel- ings and character, commonly last, and by successive aggregation constitute a polity, suited to the people who possess it, but which it would be vain to at- tempt to superduce upon any people whose nature and circumstances had not spontaneously evolved it.” Mill took his stand between the extremes of these two doctrines, availing himself “of the amount of truth which exists in f^it-her,” On t-he^nnp. hand., “p olitical ja stitutixmsr’r^^ the work of men; o we their origin and their to hum an wdlTTr : “On the other hand, itls also to be borne in mind that political machin- ery does not act of itself. As it is first made, so it has to be worked, by men, and even by ordinary men. It needs not their simple acquiescence, but their active participation; and must be adjusted to the capacities and qualities of such men as are available. This implies three conditions. The people for whom the form of government is intended must be willing to accept it; or at least not so unvrilling as to oppose an insurmoimtable obstacle to its estab- lishment. They must be willing and able to do what is necessary to keep it standing. And they must be willing and able to do what it requires of them to enable it to fulfil its purposes. . . . They must be capable of fulfilling the conditions of action, and the conditions of self-restraint, which arc necessary ( 399 ) Politics among Nations either for keeping the established polity in existence, or for enabling it to achieve the ends, its conduciveness to which forms its recommendation. “The failure of any of these conditions renders a form of government, whatever favourable promise it may otherwise hold out, unsuitable to the particular case.” This triple test devised for specific forms of government may well be ap- plied to the world state. Are the peoples of the world willing to accept world government, or are they at least not so unwilling as to oppose an insur- mountable obstacle to its establishment? Would they be willing and able to do what is necessary to keep world government standing? Would they be willing and able to do or refrain from doing what world government re- quires of them to enable it to fulfill its purposes? The answers to these ques- tions are implicit in what has been said above in connection with the prob- lems of nationalism, nationalistic universalism, international morality, and world public opinion.^ The answers are also implicit in what has been said about fhe conditions for the maintenance of domestic peace. The answer is bound to be a threefold “no.” No society exists coextensive with the presumed range of a world state. There exists an international society of sovereign nations. There does not ex- ist a supranational society comprising all individual members of all nations and, hence, identical with humanity politically organized. The most exten- sive society in which most men live and act in our times is the national society. The nation is, as we have seen, the recipient of man’s highest earthly loyal- ties. Beyond it there are other nations, but no community for which man would be willing to act regardless of what he understands the interests of his own nation to bL Men are willing to give food, clothing, and money to the needy regardless of nationality. But they prefer to keep them in Displaced Persons Camps rather than to allow them to go where they please and thus to become useful citizens again. For while international reUef is regarded as compatible with the national interest, freedom of immigration is not. Un- der the present moral conditions of mankind, few men would act on behalf of a world government if the interests of their own nation would require a different course of action. On the contrary, the overwhelming majority would pm the welfare of their own nation above everything else, the in- ^ a wedd included. In other words, the peoples of the world arc 10 acoe{^ world government, and their overriding loyalty to the oppose m insnnnoimtabie obstack to its establishment. Upr are Ae peo|^ ^ the world willing and able to do what is necessary to keep standing. For they are not prepared to perform that revalurtbn oi aS valne% that unprecedented moral and political revolu- tion wlAi wodkl feroe nation itma its throne and pit the political or- ganisation of temamly m k. They ^ willing and able to sacrifice and die so that 0^ The odds are^ ^ exiei®^ in &Ycgr rrf tl^ nation tibat men who mi^t be willing and able to sacrifice 4^6 the world ^^te be kept standing do not even have tibe m so m the world as it is coa- » Seepp. 74S. '"i'r'!-- . j,.-.; ( 400 ) ' ; , The World State^ stituted today. The man who would want to oppose the interests and policies of his own nation for the sake of humanity and its state would by that act of opposition (weakening his own nation) strengthen the nation with which his own government might be engaged in deadly combat. At best he might make himself the martyr of his convictions by inviting the punishment which the nation metes out to traitors. Nothing shows more strikingly the absence of the social and moral preconditions for anything resembling a world state than the moral paradox that a man who would want to act as a citizen of the world would by the conditions of the world be forced to act as partisan of another nation and as traitor to his own. For above one’s own na- tion there is nothing on behalf of which a man could act. There are only other nations besides one’s own. Finally, the peoples of the world are not willing and able to do what the world state requires of them to enable it to fulfill its purposesj^he,. .prime jjurpose of j jQrld.-state^.Hould be to maintain the peace of t he world. Ji g -worM - -state wQuldTr9V r^ oelQred . j au:£ ^ woul d thus^be held in a permanent state i^£iariQ4Nor shall we dwell upon tfie^obvious impossibility of putting such legislative agencies in operation, even if it should be possible to establish them. A parliament representing peoples of such different moral convic- tions, political interests, and abilities for self-government as the Americans, the Chinese, the Indians, and the Russians would hardly be able to create out of these differences an operating whole. None of its constituent groups wotdd willingly submit to the majority vote of a legislative assembly thus cemstituted. 'fte threat and the actuality of civil war would hang over such institutions, which would have to substitute compulsion for die lacking and political consensus. 40* $cc |>. 262^. 41 See al?ove, pp. 262, 263* ( 401 ) Politics among Nations Let us consider two concrete issues with regard to which the claims of different nations traditionally collide: immigration and trade. A world state, no more than any other federal state, could leave the regulation of interstate migration and interstate trade to the discretion of its component parts. It would itself have to regulate these issues. Even if the authority of the world state in these two respects were strictly circumscribed by the world constitu- tion, is there any chance that the American people would be prepared to give a world government powers to open the borders of the United States for the annual immigration of, say, 100,000 Russians, 50,000 Chinese, and 200,000 In- dians, since they are not prepared to allow the immigration of even a frac- tion of those who might have immigrated under the laws of the United States had not the Second World War prevented them from doing so? Is it likely that the Russian people would be inclined to allow the annual emigra- tion of 100,000 Russians to the United States, since they are not inclined to allow the emigration of even a score or so of Russian wives of British citizens ? Is it likely that the American people would allow the import of any quan- tity of foreign agricultural products which might compete with domestic ones on equal terms, since they do not allow, even if the federal tax should be repealed, domestic margarine to compete with domestic products on equal terms? Is there any likelihood that the Russians would allow cheap consumer goods to be imported, which might upset their planned economy and under- mine confidence in their political system as well? If these questions must be answered in the negative, as obviously they must, how is a world state ex- pected to govern at all? How is a world state expected to be able to resolve peacefully the tensions between nations which threaten the peace of the world? There is no shirking the conclusion that international peace cannot be permanent without a world state, and that a world state cannot be estab- lished under the present moral, social, and political conditions of the world. In the light of wnat has been said thus far in this book there is also no shirk- ing the further conclusion that in no period of modern history was civiliza- tion more in need of permanent peace and, hence, of a world state, and that in no period of modern history were the moral, social, and political condi- tions of the world less favorable for the establishment of a world state. There is, finally, no shirking the conclusion that as there can be no state without a sock^ willing and able to support it, there can be no world state without a worM oenmnunity willing and able to support it. 3. TWO FALSE SOLUTIONS How, tl^n, can a world state be created.? Two solutions have been of- fered r^ ^rM creatio n Constitutional of ^ ^ ( 402 ) The World State a) World Conquest All historic political structures which have come close to being world states have had one thing in common: One powerful state created them by conquering the other members of what was then the known poHtical world. Most of these world states have another thing in common; They hardly ever survived the lifetime of their founders. In Western civilization the sole exception to that rule is the Roman Em- pire. This world state owed its unique longevity to two unusual transforma- tions. The Roman conquerors transformed the conquered into Romans ei- ther by receiving them into the dominant civilization as Roman citizens or by uprooting them from their native civilizations and making them into slaves. Yet in the process of conquest, especially of the Hellenistic world, the Roman conqueror transformed himself by remaking his own civiHzation in the image of the civilizations of the conquered. Through this dual process of amalgamation, Rome created a new moral and political community coexten- sive with its conquests and capable of lending stability to the new state. To these two transformations must be added the further circumstance that after the conquest of the Mediterranean world the Roman Empire expanded into politically empty spaces, settled by barbarians whose loosely organized civili- zations disintegrated under the impact of the superior and attractive civiliza- tion of the conqueror. Most of the other world states disintegrated as soon as conquest had built them. For, beneath the political and military superstructure erected by force, the national societies lived on, each with its separate moral values and politi- cal interests and each trying to shake off the conqueror’s yoke. These world states were not the natural outgrowth of a world community coextensive with them, but a creation of force artificially superimposed upon a multi- plicity of xmwilling national societies. It is of course true that, for instance, Napoleon’s would-be world state was destroyed by the untapped reserves of Great Britain and Russia. Yet, when in 1812 that empire for the first time showed its military weakness by failing in a major task of expansion, the na- tional societies of which it was composed reasserted themselves and joined Great Britain and Russia in putting an end to it. Conquests on a smaller scale which are imable to unite the conquering and conquered populations in a new community face the smaller risk of re- volt and irredentist separatism. The relations between Ireland and Great Britain, and Poland and Russia are cases in point. If the conqueror can mus- ter overwhelming stren^, no danger to the peace may arise from the con- flict of two national societies living within the same state. If, however, the strength of the conquered people is not out of all proportion to the con- queror’s, a potential state of civil war between the conqueror and the con- quered will sap the strength of the state, even though under the modern conditions of warfare it may not endanger its existence.^^ Such are the likely consequences of limited conquests which are unable to create a new community coextensive with themselves. It follows that a world ' O. on this point above, pp. 102, 103, 299 ( 403 ) Politics among Nations state created by conquest and lacking the support o£ a world community has a chance to maintain peace within its borders only if it can create and main- tain complete discipline and loyalty among the millions of soldiers and po- licemen needed to enforce its rule over an unwilling humanity. Such a world state would be a totalitarian monster resting on feet of clay, the very thought of which startles the imagination. b ) The Examples of Switzerland and the United States What the world state is expected to bring about, Switzerland seems to have already achieved — the creation of a new federal state out of a number of sovereign nations with language, culture, history, loyalties, and policies of their own. Switzerland has been able to unite twenty-two sovereign states, speaking four different languages, in one political organization. Why should the sixty-odd nations of the world not be able to do the same? Let them adopt a federal constitution as the Swiss have done, let them act toward each other as the Swiss states do, and the problem of the world state will be solved. The argument seems to be persuasive and is considered frequently in popular discussions. It dissolves, however, when confronted with the facts of Switzerland's history. First of all, the unified Swiss state dates from 1848. Before, the Swiss states formed a confederation which resembled more a successful League of Nations or United Nations than a single state. That confederation grew from a number of permanent alliances concluded among the so-called For- est Cantons and some of the City Cantons in the course of the fourteenth centi^. These alliances were the result of certain identical and complemen- tary interests which drew these states together in defense against common dangers. Why did these alliances survive the special occasions from which they arose and even harden into the close ties of a confederation with com- mon agencies of government? The answer to that question will provide the explanation to the phenomenon of Switzerland. (i) The thirteen members of the original Confederation, occupying a con- tiguous territory, were united in a common opposition to the German Empire and ^ Hap^urgs, of whom they had all b^n subjects, from whom they ted liberatKl them^ves in common efforts, and who, or their successors, re- wmmd tte commm enemies of the liberties of all of them. (2) The famous vtodp dF the Swiss armies over the knights in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuri^ a dual eSect They established for centuries the reputation of tte Swte as the tno^ redoubtable soldiers in Europe, and they proved the virtual i miulmit y fiom fen^gn att^k of the mountain valkys where the For- est C^tons wi^ {3) Compared with these military risks which an attack upon Ae Swiss e r ^c fe c^ die s^Sx^jtions (rf victory wfere small. In view of the poverty these valleys in a^ral resources^ these attractions were exclusively strat^ic, that is^ Ac some ; . ' . ( 407 ) Politics among Nations activity, including the international exchange of persons active in the fields of education, science and culture and the exchange of publications, objects of artistic and scientific interest and other materials of information; by initiating methods of international cooperation calculated to give the people of all coimtries access to the printed and published materials produced by any of them. In order to evaluate the contribution which UNESCO is able to make for the , preservation of international peace, three distinctions must be made*, (ij hem not concerned Ae contribution which UNES CO is able to make to the dissemination and the improvement of culture an d edu- cation as ends in themselves. (2) We are here n ot concerned with the contri- bution which UNESCO is able to make for di e preservatiem of inter national peace through the very fact of international co-operation. This aspect of the problem will be dealt with in the last section of this chapter. (3) We are^ here concerned only with , the , quest^^^^ of what UNESC O ca n do for the preservation of international peace by promoting inter national und er stand-^ ing, education, and general cultural activities. Two quotations may set the tone for our . discussion. ThejCaxnegie. En- dowment for International Peace declared in its appraisal of UNESCO's p ro- gram for 1948: '‘T he projects themselves were loosely catalogued and often individ ually vague. Th ere was mixture an d confusion of objectives, areas of w ork^ and techniques of action in the individual projects. UNESCO ^s timulate’ or ^promote or study* or ^coordinate*; the program was not in- cisive and cle^-c ut. Ab ove all el se its individual items were not__ always ■ife^ly,^d related t o die safeguarding of peace and security.” ^ The Umted States National Ck^ mmission for UNESCO said with respect to the same p rogram: **The Commission does n ot app rov e the p ro posals respecting the conservation of natur e and wildlife, not because they lack merit but be- cause they do not appear to be appropriate for undertaking by UNESCO as a contribution to peace and security.” ® What these two agencies have pointed out with respect to particular pro- grams is true of all activities of UNESCO: How meritorious they may be intrinsically, they are not “clearly and obviously related to the safeguarding of peace and security.^ This defect is not an accidental quality of certain pro- -ams undertaken by UNESCO, which only need to be revised and tight- in order to fulfil their peace-preserving fimction. On the contrary, that cfefeel is oongenitah growis]g from the very philosophy which is at the f oun- (faribn d the agency and permeates all its activities. The philosophy of UNESCO starts with the assumption that education (especially wl^ it aims at immiadonal understanding), cultural inter- change, and in ^neral all activitks which tend to increase contacts among members d different, nations and to make than understand each other are factors in the creation d an international community and in the maintenance of peace. Implicit in assumption is the snj^pc^ition that nations arc nation- alistic and go to war with each ot^r. hecai^ they do not know each other s State Department Reiease,’t^/6 (Rev.), Sc^Shcr ^22, 1947, m ( 408 ) The World Community well enough and because they operate on different levels of education and culture. Both assumptions are erroneous. There are primitive peoples, completely lacking in institutionalized edu- cation, who are generally peace-loving and receptive to the influence of for- eign cultures to the point of suicide. There are other peoples, highly educated and steeped in classical culture, such as the Germans, who are generally nationalistic and warlike. The Athenians under Pericles and the Italians oi the Renaissance created cultures not equalled in the history of Western civ- ilization, and both were at least as nationalistic and warlike in that period of their history as at any time before or after. Furthermore, in the history of some nations, such as the British and the French, periods of nationalistic exclusiveness and warlike policies alternate with cosmopohtan and peaceful ones, and no correlation exists between these changes and the development of education and culture. The Chinese people have a tradition of respect for learning superior to that of any other people, and they can look back upon a history of cultural attainments longer than any other and at least as creative. These high qualities of educatiori' and cul- txire have made the Chinese look with contempt on the profession of the soldier as well as upon the members of all other nations which at the begin- ning of the nineteenth century were still regarded as barbarian vassals of the Chinese emperor. Yet they have not made the Chinese people less nation- alistic and more peaceful. Russian education in our time has reached a higher level of achievement than ever before, especially in the fields of literacy and technical education. Its excellence has had no influence upon the receptiveness of the Russian people for foreign ideas nor upon the foreign policies of the Russian government. The Soviet Union is not even a member of UNESCO. These examples taken at random show that the quantity and quality of education and culture as such is obviously irrelevant to the issue of a world community. That issue hinges not upon knowledge and upon the creation and appreciation of cultural values, but upon a moral and political trans- formation of unprecedented dimensions. What has been said of education and culture as such holds true also of educational and cultural activities which aim at the interchange of the prod- ucts of different national cultures. The existence of a multitude of inter- personal relations transcending national boundaries is no answer to our problem. More particularly, the existence of intellectual and esthetic ties across national boundaries proves nothing in favor of a world community. A world community with political potentialities is a community of moral standards and political action, not of intellect and sentiments. That an in- tellectual elite in the United States enjoys Russian music and literature and that Shakespeare has not been banned from the Russian stage has no rel- evance at all for the problem with which we are concerned. This sharing of the same intellectual and esthetic experiences by members of different na- tkms does not create a society; for it does not create morally and politically rekvaj^ actions on the part of the members, of different nations with respect to each other, which they would not have undertaken had they not shared in It d^p^ .he r^embered that on a much higher plane than the intel- ( 409 ) Politics among 'Nations lectual and the esthetic and with the objective o£ clearly defined action most members of most politically active nations have shared the same experiences for more than a thousand years. They have prayed to the same God, have held the same fundamental religious beliefs, have been bound by the same moral laws, and have had the same ritual symbols in common. That com- munity of religious experiences, much more intimately related to the whole personality of the individual and to his actions than anything that supra- national intellectual and esthetic experiences have to offer, was able to cre- ate an international community of sorts, but not an international community sufficiently integrated to make a world state possible. How, then, can we ex- pect that the enjoyment of Tchaikovsky, the impact of Dostoevski, the in- sights of the Federalist, and the imagery of Moby Dic\, which might be shared by all Americans and Russians alike, could create not only a fleeting community of feeling, but a community of moral valuations and political actions overthrowing old loyalties and establishing new ones? To that question history has given an unmistakable answer^uJCliltlnal unity, much closer than anything UNESCO can plan and achieve, has co- existed with war in all periods of history. We are not speaking here of civil wars which by definition are fought by members of the same national culture. The wars among the Greek city states, the European wars of the Middle Ages, the Italian wars of the Renaissance, the religious wars of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, even the wars of the eighteenth century in so far as the elite was concerned, were fought within the framework of a homo- geneous culture. These cultures had all essentials in common: language, re- ligion, education, literature, art. Yet these cultures did not create a com- munity coextensive with themselves, which could have kept disruptive tendencies in check and channeled them into peaceful outlets. How, then, can one expect that such a community will be created through interchange among cultures, so diverse in all the respects in which those historic ones were homogeneous ? Let us consider the third purpose of UNESCO: “Hifldef-" I fallacy of UNESCO^s conception of inter- ^"^Sonk affairs comes to the fore. International conflicts, so it is believed, are the result of an intellectual deficiency, of ignorance and lack of judgment as to the qualities of other peoples. If Americans could only come to under- stod Russians, and vice versa, they would realize how much they are aike, how much ttey have in common, and how little they have to fight aboi^ Tl^ argument is fallacious on two counts* Individual experience which anybody can duplicate at will, shows that increased frknd^p is not necessarily a concomitant of increased under- standing. Th^ ar^ of course, numerous instances in which A has misun- derstocxl the character and the motives ci B and in which clarification of the facts will remove the source of conflict Such is not the case when A and B are engaged in a conflia in which their vital interests are at stake* A does not fight B for econotxnc advantage because he misunderstanck the intentions of B; it is rather because he undemancis them only too well. Many an American GI went to China full of ^ntimental friendship for the Chinese people whom he did not know. His friendly feelings did not swvive the ( 410 ) The World Community shock of understanding. The similar experiences of many friendly visitors to Russia are too typical to need elaboration. Among those who from the beginning were most firmly opposed to the foreign objectives of the Nazi regime, even at the risk of war, were some who had a profound understanding of German culture. It was exactly that under- standing which made them implacable enemies of the Nazi regime. Sim- ilarly, the students of Russian history and culture, those who really under- stand Russia and the Russians, have as a rule been equally unaffected by the pro- and anti-Russian hysteria. They have known the traditional objectives of Russian expansionism as well as the traditional methods of Russian diplo- macy. If their understanding had had an influence upon the conduct of foreign affairs in the Western democracies, that conduct would certainly have been more intelligent and successful than it actually was. Whether or not such understanding would have made for better relations with the So- viet Union is an open question. An intelligent and successful foreign policy depends upon the Americans’ and the Russians’ understanding what both na- tions are and want. Peace between the United States and the Soviet Union depends in the last analysis upon whether what one of them is and wants is compatible with what the other one is and wants. This observation points up the other fallacy in UNESCO’s conception of international affairs. In the conception that international conflicts can be eliminated through international understanding, there is implicit the assumption that the issues of international conflicts, born as they are of mis- understandings, are but imaginary and that actually no issue worth fighting about stands between nation and nation. Nothing could be farther from the truth. All the great wars which decided the course of history and changed the political face of the earth were fought for real stakes, not for imaginary ones. The issue in those great convulsions was invariably: Who shall rule and who shall be rxiled? Who shall be free, and who, slave? Was misunderstanding at the root of the issue between the Greeks and the Persians, between the Athenians and the Macedonians, between the Jews and the Romans, between emperor and pope, between the English and the French in the late Middle Ages, between the Turks and the Austri- ans, between Napoleon and Europe, between Hitler and the world? Was misunderstanding of the other side’s culture, charaaer, and intentions the issue, so that those wars were fought over no real issue at all? Or could it not rather be maintained that in many of these conflicts it was exactly the mis- xmderstanding of the would-be conqueror’s culture, character, and intentions which preserved peace for a while, whereas the understanding of these factors made war inevitable? So long as the Athenians refused to heed the warnings of Demosthenes, the threat of war remained remote. It was only when, too late for their salvation, they understood the nature of the Macedonian Empire and of its policies that war became inevitable. That correlation between un- derstanding and the inevitability of conflict is one of the melancholy les- sons which history conveys to posterity: The more thoroughly one under- stands the other side’s position, character, and intentions, the more inevitable the conflict often appears to be. Irrespective of its great intrinsic merits, the program of UNESCO is ir- ( 411 ) Politics among Nations relevant to the problem of the world community because its diagnosis of the bars to a world community so completely misses the point. The problem of the world community is a moral and political and not an intellectual and esthetic one. The world community is a community of moral judgments and political actions, not of intellectui endowments and esthetic appreciation. Let us suppose that American and Russian education and culture could be brought to the same level of excellence or completely amalgamated, and that Russians would take to Mark Twain as Americans would take to Gogol. If that were the case, the problem of who shall control the Dardanelles would sdll stand between the United States and the Soviet Union, as it does today. So long as. men continue to judge and act in accordance with national rather than supranational standards and loyalties, the world community re- ''hisSns a..postuIate which still awaits its realization. THE FUNCTIONAL APPROACH: THE SPECIALIZED AGENCIES OF THE UNITED NATIONS How is such a transformation of standards and loyalties to be brought about? The specialized agencies of the United Nations have pointed a way. They are autonomous organizations, owing their existence to particular agreements among a number of states whose identity differs from agency to agency. They have their own constitutions, their own budgets, their own policy-making and administrative bodies, and each agency has a member- ship of its own. The names of some of these agencies are indicative of the functions they fulfill: International Labor Organization, Food and Agricul- ture Organization, International Bank for Reconstruction and Development, International Monetary Fund, International Trade Organization, Interna- tional Telecommunication Union, Universal Postal Union, International Civil Aviation Organization, UNESCO, World Health Organization. Chapters IX and X of the Charter of the United Nations provide for or- ganizational and functional relations between the specialized agencies and the United Nations^ The Charter stresses to a degree unknown in the his- tx)ry of international organization the responsibility of the United Nations lor the and the well-being of the individual regardless of national af- filiaticm* It has created in the Economic and Social Council a special organ for the (KstJiarge of that responsibility. The Economic and Social Council has the authority to conclude agreonents — and has already done so in a number of instances — with the specialized agencies, ‘‘(kfining the terms on which the agency concerned shil be brought into relationship with the United Natkms.” * The United Nations may "‘make rea>mmendations for the coordination of the polides and activities of the spcdalized agencies.” ^ The Economic and Sodti Council may take steps to r^ive regular and specpial reports from the spedalized agencies and may perform services at the request of members of the United Nations and of specialized agendcs.® ^ Ardcle 63, paragraph i. ^ Arride 58; see also Ankles 62, 63, p^a'ag^aph 2- ® Artides 64, 66, paragraph 2. . t . ; ( 412 ) The World Community What is the philosophy underlying the social and economic activities which the specialized agencies are undertaking with the co-operation o£ the United Nations? What is the relevance o£ that philosophy for the problem of the international community? This question has been answered with great brilliance and persuasiveness by Professor Mitrany. If the evil of conflict and war springs from the division of the world into detached and competing political units, will it be exorcised simply by changing or reducing the lines of division? Any political reorganization into separate units must, sooner or later, produce the same effects; any international system that is to usher in a new world must produce the opposite effect of subduing political division. As far as one can see, there are only two ways of achieving that end. One would be through a world state which would wipe out political divisions forcibly; the other is the way discussed in these pages, which would rather over- lay political divisions with a spreading web of international activities and agencies, in which and through which the interests and life of all the nations would be gradually integrated. That is the fundamental change to which any effective international system must aspire and contribute: to make international government co-extensive with international activities. ... It must care as much as possible for common needs that are evident, while presuming as little as possi- ble upon a social unity which is still only latent and unrecognized. ... [In that way] The community itself will acquire a living body not through a written act of faith but through active organic development. . . . That trend is to organize government along the lines of specific ends and needs, and according to the conditions of their time and place, in lieu of the traditional organization on the basis of a set constitutional division of jurisdiction of rights and powers. • . . The functional approach . . . would help the growth of such positive and constructive common work, of common habits and interests, making frontier lines meaningless by overlaying them with a natural growth of common activi- ties and common administrative agencies.^ This is indeed the way in which communities grow and in which govern- ments grow out of communities. We have already noted that sovereignty was a fact before it was a theory, and that the American people formed a community before they created a state. How, then, can a community be cre- ated where none exists? We have quoted with approval Professor Mitrany’s thesis that an interna- tional community ihust grow from the satisfaction of common needs which members of different nations share. The specialized agencies of the United Na- tions, serving peoples all over the world regardless of national boundaries, could create by the very fact of their existence and performance a community of interests, valuations, and actions. Ultimately, if such international agencies would be numerous enough and would serve the most important wants of most peoples of the earth, the loyalties to these institutions and to the inter- national community of which diey are the agencies would supersede the loyalties to the separate national societies and their institutions. For proof that such a development is feasible under present world con- ditions, Professor Mitrany relies in the main upon the experiences which A Wording Peace System (London: The Royal Institute of International Affairs, r^), 6, 7, la, 2Sa, 26, 27. (Reprinted by permission of the author.) ( 413 ) Politics among INations the Allies made during the Second World War with functional international agencies, such as the Anglo-American Raw Materials Board and the Middle !l^t Supply Centre. These examples put in sharp focus the problem raised by the functional approach. In war, the loyalties to the common cause and the common interest in victory over the common enemy overrode the separate national loyalties and made possible the successful operation of international functional agencies of major importance. In peace, what the nation has to offer the individual seems to outweigh by far the benefits to be derived from the functional agencies of an international character. More particularly, the conflicts of power which separate nations and the insecurity which they create make identification with the nation the overriding concern of most members of all nations. The nation offers the individual protection, vicarious gratifica- tion of power drives, and immediate satisfaction of material needs. With few sporadic exceptions, such as UNNRA, or the assistance of the World Health Organization in combating an epidemic, the specialized agencies of the United Nations offer hopes and satisfactions of a kind which is far removed from the direct experiences of ordinary people and may make itself felt only through the intermediary of a number of national agencies, so that its interna- tional origins are hard to trace. Who would think of giving thanks to the Universal Postal Union, when he mails a letter to a foreign country, for the contribution that international agency is making to such an operation.? Thus the contributions which international functional agencies make to the well-being of members of all nations fade into the background. What stands before the eyes of all are the immense political conflicts which divide the great nations of the earth and threaten the well-being of the loser, if not his very existence. This is not primarily a matter of false emphasis born of ignorance. It is rather the recognition of the undeniable feet that, from a functional point of view, what the national government does or does not do is much more important for the satisfaction of individual wants than what an international functional agency does or does not do. More important than anything else is the ability of the national government to defend its territory and citizens against foreign aggression and within its territory to maintain peace and keep in operation the processes of social change. The neglect with which the public treats international functional agencies is but the exagger- ated reflection of the actual negligible role which these agencies play for the solution of the important international issues. This is so w hen no conflict exists between the national interests of a parti<> ular na tion objectives and operations of an feternationaTfunctipi^ agency. I n case IS su^ conflict the national interest v^s out over the int^ nafimial oBjiSive. Thm it is^ two great antag^ nists bn the scene <3 cx)ntem^fei7 world p^ the Soviet UnI’Ofi, tradi^ tionally fearful ot foreign interven tion "and jealoOs df th e iiiiegrily of its political and economic systemHias joinedjQ^^ speci^z^agehcies, is collaborating only “mtTi on^ the WbrH HeaEE'XJ^^ is a member of the two whiffiliave e HstedlSr t KlSetter part oFa centuryiind are the most u npolitical in character: the Un iversal Postal UmbnTbstablish^ in 1874, and the Internationa TcIecoioSSSi^B bn Uniou^ wSi 3 nepla<^^ ( 414 ) The World Community Intcrnadonal Telegraphic and Radiotetegfaphic Unions” "of ' t 86^ respectively. The answer to the question of how a world community can be created by way of the functional approach, then, lies in the sphere of international politics. JWe--proposed that the first step toward the peaceful settlement of the internatioiul conflicts which might lead- to_ war., was tl^ creation of an international community as foundation for a world state. We find that the creation of an international community presupposes at least the mitigation and minimization of international conflicts so that the interests which unite members of different nations may outweigh the interests which separate them. How can international conflicts be mitigated and minimized? This is the final questio n w h ich calls for examination. ( 415 ) PART TEN THE PROBLEM OF PEACE IN THE MID-TWENTIETH CENTURY: PEACE THROUGH ACCOMMODATION CHAPTER XXVni Diplomacy We haye...saen that mtemational peace ^cannot be preserved^, trough the firotation of national sovereignty, and we Ipund tHe reasons for this laflnre in. the very nature of the relations among nations. We concluded that inter- national peace through the transformation of the present society of sovereign nations into a world state is unattainable under the moral, social, and po- litical conditions which prevail in the world in our time. If the world state is unattainable in our world, yet indispensable for the survival of that worlds it is necessary to create the conditions under which it will not be impossible from the outset to establish a world state. As the prime requisite for the cre- ation of such conditions we suggested the mitigation and minimization of those political conflicts which in our time pit the two superpowers against each other and evoke the specter of a cataclysmic war. JJIiuMWcrfiod es tablishing the preconditions fQr_ p ermanent peace we otll peace through a c^rnmoda gon. is _diplomacY>_ I . FOUR M A G V We have already had occasion to emphasize the paramount importance of diplomacy as an element of national power. The importance of diplomacy for the preservation of international peace is but a particular aspect of the general function which diplomacy fulfills as an element of national power. For a diplomacy which ends in war has failed in its primary objective: the promotion of the national interest by peaceful means. This has always been so and is particularly so in view of the destructive potentialities of total war- Taken in its widest meaning, comprising the whole range of foreign policy, the task of diplomacy is fourfold, (i) PiploinaqyLJimst^ t a^^ ig obiecti vesin the light of the power actually and potentially availablefoiTEe^ pursuit of oBiccuvcsTT^ OHdiSacv n ations and the pov^" actually and potentially avaikble for the pursmt o f these objiamves. ( 3) wjhat ent objectives arc piplomjcjj3^.§t.3^ its o b j ectives . Failure in any one of these tasks may jeopardize the success of a foreign policy and with it the peace of the world. ( 419 ) Politics among Nations 1. A nation which sets itself goals which it has not the power to attain may have to face the risk of war on two counts. Such a nation is likely to dissipate its strength and not to be strong enough at all points of friction to deter a hostile nation from challenging it beyond endurance. The failure of its foreign policy may force the nation to retrace its steps and to redefine its objectives in view of its actual strength. Yet it is more likely that, under the pressure of an inflamed public opinion, such a nation will go forward on the road toward an unattainable goal, strain all its resources to achieve it, and finally, confounding the national interest with that goal, seek in war the solution to a problem which cannot be solved by peaceful means. 2 . A nation will also invite war if its diplomacy wrongly assesses the objec- tives oFbdier nations and the power at their disposal. We have already pointed to the error of mistaking a policy of the status quo for a policy of imperialism, and vice versa, and of confounding one kind of imperialism with another/ A nation which mistakes a policy of imperialism for a policy of the status quo will be unprepared to meet the threat to its own existence which the other nation^s policy constitutes. Its weakness will invite attack and may make war inevitable. A nation which mistakes a policy of the status quo for a policy of imperialism will evoke through its disproportionate reaction the very danger of war which it is trying to avoid. For as A mistakes B’s policy for imperialism, so B might mistake A’s defensive reaction for imperialism, too. Tlius both nations, each intent upon forestalling imaginary aggression from the other side, will rush to arms. Similarly, the confusion of one type of imperialism with another may call for disproportionate reaction and thus evoke the risk of war. As for the assessment of the power of other nations, either to overrate or to underrate it may be equally fatal to the cause of peace. By overrating the power of B, A may prefer to yield to B’s demands until, finally, A is forced to fight for its very existence under the most unfavorable conditions. By underrating the power of B, A may become overconfident in its assumed superiority. A may advance demands and impose conditions upon B which the latter is supposedly too weak to resist. Unsuspecting B’s actual power of resistance, A may be faced with the alternative of either retreating and con- ceding defeat or of advancing and risking war. A nation wh idi wants ^iatei%eBt^an4_|^^ poEcy cannor^age a>mp|jios^ obi^tiyes of other are comptiSETi^^ ^ses. If they are not compatible, i^on A must determine whether its ob- jectives me so vital to itself that they must be pursued despite that incom- patibilky whh the objectives erf B, If it is found that A"s vital interests can be saf^[uar&d withn its ^rfqectivc^ 1 See above, pp. 46S^66£, ‘ ( 420 ) Diplomacy ing B equivalents not vital to A. In other words, through diplomatic bar- gaining, the give-and-take o£ compromise, a way must be sought by which the interests of A and B can be reconciled. Finally, if the incompatible objectives of A and B should prove to be vital to either side, a way might sdll be sought in which the vital interests of A and B might be redefined, reconciled, and their objectives thus made com- patible with each other. Here, however — even provided that both sides pursue intelligent and peaceful policies — A and B are moving dangerously close to the brink of war. 4. It is the fi nal task, of ^ intelligent diplomacy, intent upon preserving peace, tp^choose the appropriate means for pursuing its^c^ The means af the disposal of diplomacy are' three: persuasion^ compromise, dueat of f orce. No diplomacy relying upon nothing but the threat of force can claim to be both intelligent and peaceful. No diplomacy which would stake every- thing on persuasion and compronoise deserves to be called intelligent. Rarely, if ever, in the conduct of the foreign policy of a great power is there justifica- tion for using only one method to the exclusion of the others. Generally, the diplomatic representative of a great power, in order to be able to serve both the interests of his country and the interests of peace, must at the same time use persuasion, hold out the advantages of a compromise, and impress the other side with the military strength of his country. The ar lpf diplomacy consists in putting the right emphasis at any partic- ular moment on each of these three means at its disposal. A diplomacy which has successfully discharged its other functions may well fail in advanc- ing the national interest and preserving peace if it stresses persuasion when the give-and-take of compromise is primarily required by the circumstances of the case. A diplomacy which puts most of its eggs in the basket of com- promise when the military might of the nation should be predominantly displayed, or which stresses military naight when the political situation calls for persuasion and compromise will likewise fail. 2. INSTRUMENTS OF DIPLOMACY The four tasks of diplomacy are the basic elements of which foreign policy consists everywhere and at all times. One might say that the chief- tain of a primitive tribe maintaining political relations witii a neighboring tribe will have to perform these four functions if he wants to be successful and to preserve peace. The need for the performance of these functions is as old and as wide^read as international politics itself. Only the performance of these functions by organized agencies is of relatively recent origin. QTffln^d im truments of <|[plo|i|aQr, .a^^ offices in the ^pitals and t he diplomatic lepr eiSS ^E!^ sehrBy^t&'TofSfi the^cam STs ofTorn g ncoum Sc^^ lorei^ agency, the brams of forS^TpoEcy where the impressions from tfe outside wbrld are gathered and evaluated, where for- dign policy Is formulated, and where the impulses emanate which the diplo- ( 421 ) Tolitics among Nations matic representatives transform into actual foreign policy* While the foreign oflSice is the brains of foreign policy, the diplomatic representatives are its eyes, ears, and mouth, its fingertips, and, as it were, its itinerant incarnations* The diplomat fulfills three basic functions for his government — symbolic, legal, and political. a) SymboUc Jgj^presentation The diplomat is first of all the sytp,b olic r^resentative of his country. As suclrfic^must continuously perform symboTic functions and expose Hfmself to symbolic functions on the part of other diplomats and of the foreign government to which he is accredited. These functions serve to test, on the one hand, the prestige in which his country is held abroad and, on the other, the prestige with which his own country regards the country to whose govern- ment he is accredited. The American Ambassador in London will, for in- stance, represent the President of the United States at the official functions to which he is invited and at those which he gives, such as state dinners, recep- tions, and the like. He extends and receives congratulations and condolences upon occasions joyful or sad for the nations concerned. We have already dis- cussed the symbolic functions of the diplomatic ceremonial.^ As a significant example of the symbolic function of diplomacy, mention may be made of the lavish entertainment which most diplomatic missions feel constrained to offer to the members of the government to which they are accredited, to their fellow diplomats, and to the high society of the cap- ital where they reside. This custom, which has been the object of much ad- verse comment in democratic countries, is not primarily the expression of a love for luxury on the part of individual diplomats, but fulfills a special function in the scheme of diplomatic representation.* While entertaining, the diplomat does not act for himself as an individual, but as the symbolic representative of his country. It is the Russian Am- bassador as such who invites guests to a reception in commemoration of the October Revolution of 1917* Through him (his identity is irrelevant for this symbolic purpose) it is the Soviet Union which entertains, celebrates, and tries to impress its guests — as well as those who pointedly have not been invited — with its wealth and generosity. It is not by accident that in the tWrties, after Ae Soviet Union had regained ah important, yet suspect position in the society of nations, the parties given by the Russian embassies throughout the world were famed for their lavishness and for the quantity and quality of food and drink. The purpose of this extravagance was not to show the bourgeois inhabitants of the Western world how well off the Russian people were. The purpc^ was rather to compensate for the political inferiority from which the Sovi^ Union had just barely escaped and into which it feared it might sink again. By instructing its diplomatic representa- tive to act in matters (£ entermitth^nt as the equals, if not the betters, of their colleague in foreign capitals, the Soviet Union — not unlike an up- start who has just crashed sodety— endeavored to demonstrate symbolically that it was at least as g^)Qd a nation as iaiiy other. 2 See above, pp. 50 ff. ( 422 ) Diplomacy b) Legal Representation The diplomat also acts a s the Ic^al representative o£ his government. He is the legal agent of his government in the same sense in which a domestic corporation with its seat in Wilmington, Delaware, is represented by legal agents in other states and cities. These agents act in the name o£ that legal fic- tion which we call a corporation, make declarations binding upon it, sign con- tracts obligating it, and act within the limits of the corporate charter as though they were the corporation. Similarly, the American Ambassador in London performs in the name of the government of the United States the legal func- tions which the Constitution, the laws of the United States, and the orders of the government allow him to perform. He may be authorized to sign a treaty or to transmit and receive ratification documents by which a treaty already signed is brought into force. He gives legal protection to American citizens abroad. He may represent the United States at an international conference or in the General Assembly of the United Nations and cast his vote in the name, and according to the instructions, of his government. c) Political Representation The diplomat, together with the foreign office, shapes the foreign policy of his cbuiitry. This is by far his most important function. As the foreign office is the nerve center of foreign policy, so are the diplomatic representa- tives its outlying fibers which maintain the two-way traffic between the center and the outside world. Upon the diplomats’ shoulders lies the main burden of discharging at least one of the four tasks of diplomacy discussed above: they must assess the objectives of other nations and the power actually and potentially avail- able for the pursuit of these objectives. To that end they must inform them- selves of the plans of the government to which they arc accredited through direct interrogation of government officials and political leaders, through canvassing the press and other mouthpieces of public opinion. Furthermore, they must evaluate the potential influence upon governmental policies of opposing trends within the government, political parties, and public opinion. A foreign diplomat in Washington must keep his government informed about the present and probable future attitude of the different branches of the United States government with regard to current problems of inter- national affairs. He must appraise the importance for the development of foreign policy of different personalities in the government and the political parties. What stand are different presidential candidates likely to take with regard to the general and specific problems of foreign affairs in the event of their election What is the influence of a certain columnist or radio com- mentator upon official policy and public opinion, and how representative of official thinking and of the trends in public opinion are his views? Such are some of the questions which the diplomat must try to answer. Upon the re- liability of his reports and the soundness of his judgment the success or failure of the foreign policy of his government and its ability to preserve peace may well depenti ( 423 ) Politics among Nations When it comes to evaluating the actual and potential power of a nation, the diplomatic mission takes on the aspects of a high-class and sub-rosa spy organization. High-ranking members of the armed services are delegated to the different diplomatic missions where as military, naval, and air attaches they are responsible for accumulating, by whatever means are available, in- formation about actual and planned armaments, new weapons, the military potential, military organization, and the war plans of the countries con- cerned. Their services are supplemented by commercial attach^ who collect information about economic trends, industrial developments, and the loca- tion of industries, especially with regard to their bearing upon military pre- paredness. In this and many other respects too numerous to mention the ac- curacy and soimdness of the reports which a government receives from its diplomatic missions abroad is indispensable for the soxmdness of its own decisions. In this function of gathering information, especially secret information upon which the foreign policies of one’s own country could be founded, lies the root of modern diplomacy. In the Middle Ages it was taken for granted that the special envoy of a prince traveling in a foreign country was a spy. When in the course of the fifteenth century the small Italian states started to make use of permanent diplomatic representatives in their relations with stronger states, fhey did so primarily for the purpose of receiving timely in- formation of aggressive intentions on the part of the latter. Even when in the sixteenth century permanent diplomatic missions had become general, diplomats were widely regarded as a nuisance and a liability for the receiv- ing state. At the beginning of the seventeenth century Hugo Grotius went so far as to advocate their abolition. Diplomatic representatives are not only the eyes and the ears which re- port the events of the outside world to the nerve center of foreign policy as the raw material for its decisions. Diplomatic representatives are also the mouth and the hands through which the impulses emanating from the nerve center are transformed into words and actions. They must make the people among whom they live and especially the mouthpieces of their public opin- ion and their political leaders understand and, if possible, approve the foreign policy whidi they repre^nt. For this task of “selling” a foreign policy, the pmonai a{^>eal (rf the diplomat and his understanding of the psychology of foeign peoffe are essential prerequisites. fri die p^omKtnce of the peace-pr^rving function of persuasion, nego- and threat <£ fc^ce, the diplomatic representative plays an out- stanst powerful single vole in Congress represents but a small frac- tin^.,pr^idential veto^ no ccmpulsory judi- cial review, no bill of and procedmal re^r^nts upon the majority against abt^ Nor is there a ( 434 ) The Future of Diplomacy nority alike and able to enforce the decision of the majority against a recal- citrant minority. The majority can outvote the minority as often as it wants to and on any issue it chooses, and the minority can protect itself with the veto against any majority decision which it wants to annul. 2. A minority in the Security Council is always likely, especially under present political conditions, to be a permanent one. For the same reasons, its minority status is bound to extend to all questions of major importance. The two-bloc system which dominates contemporary world politics leads to per- manent alignments on either side of the divide. The tension between the two blocs makes virtually all issues political ones. When such issues come to a vote, the adherents of the two blocs are likely to split along the line sepa- rating the two blocs. 3. The numerical relation between the minority of two and the majority of nine obviously does not in any sense correspond to the actual distribution of power and interests among the members of the United Nations, nor does the vote of the most powerful members of the Security Council represent a relatively small fraction of the total power of the community of nations. On the contrary, the division of nine to two in the Security Council comes close to representing a division of, let us say, nine to seven, so far as the actual power of the members of the United Nations aligned on one or the other side is concerned. And the vote of the United States or the Soviet Union comes close to representing one-third of the total power of all members of the United Nations. To outvote a powerful minority in a deliberative international agency, then, does not fulfill a useful purpose. For the minority cannot accept the de- cision of the majority, and the majority cannot enforce its decision short of war. At best, parliamentary procedures transferred to the international scene leave things as they are; they leave problems unsolved and issues xmsettled. At worst, however, these procedures poison the international atmosphere and aggravate the conflicts which carry the seeds of war. They provide a ma- jority with an opportunity to humiliate the minority in public and as often as it wishes. In the form of the veto, the corollary of the majority vote in a so- ciety of sovereign nations, these procedures provide the minority with a weapon with which to obstruct the will of the majority and to prevent the international agency from functioning at all. Neither the majority nor the minority needs to use self-restraint nor be aware of its responsibility to the in- ternational organization or to humanity^ since what either side votes for or against cannot influence the course of events. For one group of sovereign na- tions to vote down another group of sovereign nations is, dien, to engage in a puerile game which can accomplish nothing, but may well lead further on the road to war. c) The Vice of Fragmentation The decision by majority vote implies the third of the vices of the new diplomacy which stands in the way of a revival of the traditional diplomatic practices: the fragmentation of international issues. By its very nature, the majority vote is concerned with an isolated case. The facts of life to be dealt ( 435 ) Politics among Nations with by the majority decision are artificially separated from the facts which precede, accompany, and follow them, and are transformed into a legal “case’' or a political “issue” to be disposed of as such by the majority decision. In the domestic field, this procedure is not necessarily harmful. Here the ma- jority decision of a deliberative body operates within the context of an intricate system of devices for peaceful change, supplementing, supporting, or checking each other as the case may be, but in any case attuned to each other in a certain measure and thus giving the individual decisions coherence with each other and with the whole social system. On the international scene, no such system of integrating factors exists. Consequently, it is here particularly inadequate to take up one “case” or “is- sue” after the other and to try to dispose of them by a succession of majority votes. A case or issue, such as the Greek or Palestinian, is always a particular phase and manifestation of a much larger situation. Such a case or issue is rooted in the historic past and extends its ramifications beyond its particular locale and into the future. Our discussion of the relations between disputes and tensions has given us an indication of the intimate relations which exist between the surface phenomena of international conflicts and those large and undefined problems, buried deep under the surface of the daily occur- rences of international life.^ To deal with cases and issues as they arise and to try to dispose of them according to international law or political expediency is to deal with surface phenomena and leave the underlying problems uncon- sidered and unsolved. The League of Nations fell victim to that vice; the United Nations, heedless of the League’s example, has not only erected it into a principle, but has developed it into a fine art. For instance, there is no doubt that the League of Nations was right, ac- cording to international law, in expelling the Soviet Union in 1939 because of its attack upon Finland. But the political and military problems with which the Soviet Union confronted the world neither began with its attack on Fin- land nor ended there; it was unwise for the League to pretend that such was the case and to decide the issue on that pretense. History has proved the un- wisdom of that pretense; for only Sweden’s refusal to allow British and French troops to pass through Swedish territory in order to come to the aid of Finland saved Great Britain and France from being at war with Germany and the Soviet Union at the same time. Whenever the League of Nations endeavored to deal with political situations presented as legal issues, it could deal with them only as isolated cases according to the applicable rules of in- ternational law, not as particular phases of an over-all political situation whidi required an over-all solution according to the rules of the political art. Hence, political problems were never solved but only tossed about and finally shelved according to the rules of the legal game. ' What was true of the League of Nations has already proved to be true of the United Nations. In its approach to the Greek, Syrian, Indonesian, Iranian, Spanish, and Palestinian situations, the Security Council has re- mained faithful to the tradition established by the Council of the League of Nations. These cases have provided o|^rtunities for exercise in parliamen- 2 Sec above, pp. 343 £f. ( 436 ) The Future of Diplomacy tary procedure and for just that chicanery for which traditional diplomacy has so often been reproached, but on no occasion has even an attempt been made to face the political issues of which these situations are the surface manifestations. The special political conferences of the postwar period have repeated the pattern of fragmentation established by the League of Nations and the United Nations. They have dealt with the issue of Korea, the Austrian peace treaty, German reparations, or the Marshall Plan. None of these conferences has faced the problem of which all these issues are particular phases and manifestations and upon whose solution the settlement of these issues de- pends: the problem of the over-all relations between the United States and the Soviet Union. Since they were unwilling to come to grips with the fun- damental problem of international politics, they were unable to settle any of the particular issues to which they alone paid attention. This failure of the new diplomacy even to see the problem upon whose solution the preservation of peace depends, let alone to try to solve it, is the inevitable result of the methods which it has employed. A diplomacy which, instead of speaking in conciliatory terms to the other side, addresses the world for purposes of propaganda; which, instead of negotiating with com- promise as its goal, strives for the cheap triumph of futile majority decisions and of obstructive vetoes; which, instead of facing the primary problem, is satisfied with manipulating the secondary ones — such a diplomacy is a li- ability rather than an asset for the cause of peace. These three essential vices of the new diplomacy are aggravated by the misuse to which the ease of modern communications is put in international affairs. The conquest of time and space by modern technology has inevitably reduced the importance of diplomatic representation. Yet it has by no means made necessary the confusion of functions between the foreign office and diplomatic representation, which is characteristic of contemporary diplomacy. A secretary of state or foreign minister is physically able to converse with any foreign capital within a few minutes’ time by way of telecommunications and to reach it in person within a few days at the most. Thus the tendency has grown, and it has become a habit in the American foreign service, for the men responsible for the conduct of foreign affairs to assume the role of roving ambassadors, hurrying from one conference to another, stopping in between conferences for a short while at the foreign office, and using their time there in preparation for the next meeting. The men who are supposed to be the brains of diplomacy, its nerve center, fulfill at best the functions of the nerve ends. In consequence, there is a void at the center. There is nobody who faces the over-all problem of international politics and sees all the par- ticular issues as phases and manifestations of the whole. Instead, each spe- cialist in the foreign office deals with the particular problems belonging to his specialty, and the fragmentation of the conduct of foreign affairs to which the techniques of the new diplomacy lend themselves is powerfully supported by the lack of an over-all direction of foreign affairs. In addition, the same lack provides a standing invitation to other agen- cies of the government to fill the void. Thus the ascendancy of the military in the conduct of foreign affairs, especially in the United States, results in ( 437 ) Politics among Nations good measure from the default of the civilian authorities to provide over-all leadership in the field of foreign policy. 2. THE PROMISE OF DIPLOMACY: ITS EIGHT RULES^ Diplomacy could revive itself if it would part with these vices which in recent years have well-nigh destroyed its usefulness and restore the tech- niques which controlled the mutual relations of states before the First World War. By doing so, however, diplomacy would realize only one of the pre- conditions for the preservation of peace. The contribution of a revived diplo- macy to the cause of peace would depend upon the methods and purposes of its use. The discussion of these uses is the last task which we have set ourselves in this book. We have already formulated the four main tasks with which a foreign policy must cope successfully in order to be able to promote at the same time the national interest and preserve peace. It remains for us now to re- formulate those tasks in the light of the special problems with which con- temporary world politics confronts diplomacy. We have seen that the two- bloc system, which is the dominant and distinctive element of contemporary world politics, carries with it potentialities for enormous evil and enormous good. We have quoted the French philosopher Fenelon to the cflEect that the opposition of two approximately equal nations constitutes the ideal system of the balance of power, provided that the preponderant nation uses its power with moderation and “for the sake of public security.” Wc found that the beneficial results which F&elon expected from the two-bloc system have failed to attend the opposition between the United States and the Soviet Union, and that the potentialities for evil seem to have a better chance to materialize than those for good.* Finally, we saw the main reason for this threatening aspect of contempo- rary world politics in the character of nK>dern war wHch has changed pro- foundly under the impact of nationalistic universalism and modern technol- ogy. TTie effects of modern technology cannot be undone. The only variable which remains to ddiberate manipulation is the new moral force of nationalistic uniwrsalism. The attempt to reverse the trend toward war thr€n:^h the tedmique of a revived diplomacy must start with this phenom- enon. That means in negative terms that a revived diplomacy wiU have a chance to fnre^rve peace only when it is not used as the instrument of a po- litical relig^ba aiming at universal dominion. * Wc so deaas intend to tec an exhaustive account of rules of diplomacy. Wc prop<^ to Worlds of Edmtmd Emhfi and Company, 1865), H, 140. , ( 442. ) The Future of Diplomacy stmments of war; foreign policy is an instrument of peace. It is true that the ultimate objectives of the conduct of war and of the conduct of foreign pol- icy are identical: both serve the national interest. However, both differ fun- damentally in their immediate objective, in the means they employ, and in the modes of thought which they bring to bear upon their respective tasks. The objective of war is simple and unconditional: to break the will of the enemy. Its methods are equally simple and unconditional; to bring die great- est amount of violence to bear upon the most vulnerable spot in the enemy’s armor. Consequendy, the military leader must think in absolute terms. He lives in the present and in the immediate future. The sole question before him is how to win victories as cheaply and quickly as possible and how to avoid defeat. The objective of foreign policy is relative and conditional: to bend, not to break, the will of the other side as far as necessary in order to safeguard one’s own vital interests without hurting those of the other side. The methods of foreign policy are relative and conditional; not to advance by destroying the obstacles in one’s way, but to retreat before them, to circumvent them, to maneuver around them, to soften and dissolve them slowly by means of persuasion, negotiation, and pressure. In consequence, the mind of the diplo- mat is comphcated and subtle. It sees the issue in hand as a moment in his- tory, and beyond the victory of tomorrow it anticipates the incalculable pos^ sibihties of the future. To surrender the conduct of foreign affairs to the military, then, is to destroy the possibility of compromise and thus to surrender ^e cause of peace. The military mind knows how to operate between the absolutes of victory and defeat. It knows nothing of that patient, intricate, and subtle ma- neuvering of diplomacy whose main purpose is to avoid the absolutes of vic- tory and defeat and to meet the other side on the middle ground of negoti- ated compromise. A foreign policy conduaed by military men according to the rules of the military art can only end in war; **£or what we prepare for is what we shall get.” For nations conscious of the potentialities of modem war, peace must be the goal of their foreign policies. Such foreign policies must be conducted in such a way as to make Ae preservation of peace possible and not to make the outbreak of war inevitable. In a society of sovereign nations, military force is a necessary instrument of foreign policy. Yet the instrument of for- eign policy should not become the master of foreign policy. As war is fought in order to make peace possible, foreign policy should be conducted in order to make peace permanent. For the performance of both tasks, the subordina- tion of the military under the civilian authorities, constitutionally responsible for the conduct of foreign affairs, is an indispensable prerequisite. 3. CONCLUSION The way toward international peace which we have shown cannot com- pete in inspirational qualities with the simple and fascinating formulae William Graham Sumner, loc, cit,, p. 173. ( 443 ) Politics among Nations which for a century and a half have fired the imagination of a war-weary humanity. There is something spectacular in the radical simplicity of a for- mula which with one sweep seems to dispose of the problem of war once and for all. This has been the promise of such solutions as free trade, arbi- tration, disarmament, collective security, universal socialism, international government, and the world state. There is nothing spectacular, fascinat- ing, or inspiring in the business of diplomacy. However, we have made the point that these solutions, in so far as they deal with the real problem and not only with some of its symptoms, presup- pose the existence of an integrated international society wliich actually does not exist. To bring into existence such an international society and keep it in being, the accommodating techniques of diplomacy are required. As the integration of domestic society and its peace develop from the unspectacu- lar and almost unnoticed day-by-day operations of the techniques of accom- modation and change, so any ultimate ideal of international life must await its realization from the techniques of persuasion, negotiation, and pressure, which are the traditional instruments of diplomacy. The reader who has followed us to this point may well ask: But has not diplomacy failed in preventing war in the past? To that legitimate question two answers can be given. Diplomacy has failed many times, and it has succeeded many times, in its peace-preserving task. It has failed sometimes because nobody wanted it to succeed. We have seen how different in their objectives and methods the limited wars of the past have been from the total war of our time. When war was the normal activity of kings, the task of diplomacy was not to prevent it, but to bring it about at the most propitious moment. On the other hand, when nations have used diplomacy for the purpose of preventing war, they have often succeeded. The outstanding example of a successful war-preventing diplomacy in modern times is the Congress of Ber- lin of 1878. That Congress settled, or at least made susceptible to settlement, by the peaceful means of an accommodating diplomacy the issues which had separated Great Britain and Rtissia since Ae end of the Napoleonic Wars. During the better part of the nineteenth century, the conflict between Great Britain and Russia over the Balkans, the Dardanelles, and the Eastern Med- iterranean hung like a suspended sword over the peace of the world. Yet, during the fifty years following the Crimean War, hostilities between Great Britain and Russia threatened to break out time and again, but never actu- ally broke ox^:. Tht main credit for the preservation of peace must go to the techniques of an aca>mmodating diplomacy which culminated in the Con- gress of Berlin. When British Prime Minister Disraeli returned from that Congress to London, he declared with pride that he was bringing home “peace in our time."* In fact, he had brought peace for later generations, too; for almost a century there has been no war between Great Britain and Russia. We have, however, recognized the precariousness of peace in a society of sovereign nations. The continuing success of diplomacy in preserving peace depends, as we have seen, upon extraordinary moral and intellectual quali- ties which all the leading participants must possess. A mistake in the evalu- ation of one of the elements of national power, made by one or the other of ( 444 ) The Future of Diplomacy the leading statesmen, may spell the difference between peace and war. So may an accident spoiling a plan or a power calculation/^ Diplomacy is the best means o£ preserving peace which a society of sov- ereign nations has to offer, but, especially under the conditions of modern world politics and of modern war, it is not good enough. It is only when nations have surrendered the means of destruction which modern technology has put in their hands to a higher authority — when they have given up their sovereignty — that international peace can be made as secure as domestic peace. Diplomacy can make peace more secure than it is today, and the world state can make peace more secure than it would be if nations were to abide by the rules of diplomacy. Yet, as there can be no permanent peace without a world state, there can be no world state without the peace-preserv- ing and community-building processes of diplomacy. For the world state to be more than a dim vision, the accommodating processes of diplomacy, miti- gating and minimizing conflicts, must be revived. Whatever one’s conception of the ultimate state of international affairs may be, in the recognition of that need and in the demand that it be met all men of good will can join. If authority were needed in support of the conception of international peace presented in these pages, it can be found in the counsel of a man who has committed fewer errors in international affairs than any of his contem- poraries — Winston Churchill. Viewing with concern the contemporary scene in his speech to the House of Commons of January 23, 1948, and ask- ing himself, “Will there be war.?” Mr. Churchill called for peace through accommodation when he said: I will only venture now to say that there seems to me to be very real danger in going on drifting too long. I believe that the best chance of preventing a war is to bring matters to a head and come to a settlement with the Soviet Govern- ment before it is too late. This would imply that the Western democracies, who should, of course, seek unity among themselves at the earliest moment, would take the initiative in asking the Soviet for a settlement. It is idle to reason or argue with the Communists. It is, however, possible to deal with them on a fair, realistic basis, and, in my experience, they will keep their bargains as long as it is in their interest to do so, which might, in this grave matter, be a long time, once things are settled. . . . There are very grave dangers — that is all I am going to say today — in let- ting everything run on and p2e up until something l^ppens, and it passes, all of a sudden, out of your control. With all consideration of the facts, I believe it right to say today that the best chance of avoiding war is, in accord with the omer Western democracies, to bring matters to a head with the Soviet Government, and, by formal diplo- matic processes, with all their privacy and gravity, to arrive at a lasting setde- ment. There is certainly enough for the interests of all if such a settlement could be reached. Even this method, I must say, however, would not guarantee that war would not come. But I believe it would give the best chance of coming out of it alive.^^ See above, pp. iii £E., 151, 152. 12 Parliamentary Debates (Hansard). House of Commons. Vol. 446, No. 48, pp. 562-3. ( 445 ) APPENDIX, BIBLIOGRAPHY, INDEX APPENDIX Charter of the United Nations We the peoples of the United Nations determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our life- time has brought untold sorrow to mankind, and to reafErm faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, in the equal rights of men and women and of nations large and small, and to establish conditions under which justice and respect for the obligations arising from treaties and other sources of international law can be maintained, and to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom, and for these ends to practice tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neigh- bors, and to umte our strength to maintain international peace and security, and to ensure, by the acceptance of principles and the institution of methods, that armed force shall not be used, save in the common interest, and to employ international machinery for the promotion of the economic and social advancement of all peoples, have resolved to combine our efforts to accomplish these aims. Accordingly, our respective Governments, through representatives assembled in the city of San Francisco, who have exhibited their full powers found to be in good and due form, have agreed to the present Charter of the United Nations and do hereby establish an international organization to be known as the United Nations. ( 449 ) Politics among Nations CHAPTER I Purposes and Principles Article i The Purposes o£ the United Nations are: 1. To maintain international peace and security, and to that end: to take ef- fective collective measures for the prevention and removal of threats to the peace, and for the suppression of acts of aggression or other breaches of the peace, and to bring about by peaceful means, and in conformity with the principles of jus- tice and international law, adjustment or setdement of international disputes or situations which might lead to a breach of the peace; 2. To develop friendly relations among nations based on respect for the prin- ciple of equal rights and self-determination of peoples, and to take other appro- priate measures to strengthen imiversal peace; 3. To achieve international cooperation in solving international problems of an economic, social, cultural, or humanitarian character, and in promoting and encouraging respect for human rights and for fundamental freedoms for all with- out distinction as to race, sex, language, or religion; and 4. To be a center for harmonizing the actions of nations in the attainment of these common ends. Article 2 The Organization and its Members, in pursuit of the Purposes stated in Ar- ticle I, shall act in accordance with the following Principles, 1. The Organization is based on the principle of the sovereign equality of all its Members, 2. All Members, in order to ensure to all of them the rights and benefits re- sulting from membership, shall fulfil in good faith the obligations assumed by them in accordance with the present Charter. 3. All Members shall settle their international disputes by peaceful means in such a manner that international peace and security, and justice, are not en- dangered. 4. All Members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, or in any other manner inconsistent with the Purposes of the United Nations, 5. Ail Members shall give the United Nations every assistance in any action it takes in accordance with die present Charter, and shall refrain from giving assist- ance to any state against which the United Nations is taking preventive or en- forcement action. 6. Tlie Organization shall ensure that states which are not Members of the United Nations act in accordance with these Principles so far as may be necessary for the maintenance of international peace and security. 7. Nothing contained in the present Charter shall authorize the United Nations to intervene in matters which are essentially within the domestic jurisdic- tion of any state or shall require the Members to submit such matters to settle- ment under the present Charter; but this principle shall not prejudice the applica- tion of enforcement measures under Chapter VIL ( 450 ) Appendix CHAPTER n Membership Article j The original Members of the United Nations shall be the states which, having participated in the United Nations Conference on International Organization at San Francisco, or having previously signed the Declaration by United Nations of January i, 1942, sign the present Charter and ratify it in accordance with Article no. Article 4 1. Membership in the United Nations is open to all other peace-loving states which accept the obligations contained in the present Charter and, in the judg- ment of the Organization, are able and willing to carry out these obligations, 2. The admission of any such state to membership in the United Nations will be effected by a decision of the General Assembly upon the recommendation of the Security Council- Article 5 A Member of the United Nations against which preventive or enforcement ac- tion has been taken by the Security Council may be suspended from the exercise of the rights and privileges of membership by the Generd Assembly upon the rec- ommendation of the Security Council. The exercise of these rights and privileges may be restored by the Security Council. Article 6 A Member of the United Nations which has persistendy violated the Princi- ples contained in the present Charter may be expelled from the Organization by the General Assembly upon the recommendation of the Security Council. CHAPTER m Organs Article 7 1. There are established as the principal organs of the United Nations: a Gen- eral Assembly, a Security Council, an Economic and Social Council, a Trustee- ship Council, an International Court of Justice, and a Secretariat. 2. Such subsidiary organs as may be found necessary may be established in ac- cordance with the present Charter. Article 8 The United Nations shall place no restrictions on the eligibility of men and women to participate in any capacity and under conditions of equality in its prin- cipal and subsidiary organs. ( 451 ) Politics among 'Nations CHAPTER IV The General Assembly COMPOSITION Article 9 1. The General Assembly shall consist of all the Members of the United Nations. 2. Each Member shall have not more than five representatives in the General Assembly. FUNCTIONS AND POWERS Article lo The General -Assembly may discuss any questions or any matters within the scope o£ the present Charter or relating to the powers and functions of any or- gans provided for in the present Charter, and except as provided in Article 12, may make recommendations to the Members of the United Nations or to the Se- curity Council or to both on any such questions or matters. Article ii 1. The General Assembly may consider the general principles of cooperation in the maintenance of international peace and security, including the principles governing disarmament and the regulation of armaments, and may make recom- mendations with regard to such principles to the Members or to the Security Council or to both. 2. The General Assembly may discuss any questions relating to the mainte- nance of international peace and security brought before it by any Member of the United Nations, or by the Security Coimcil, or by a state which is not a Member of the United Nations in accordance with Article 35, paragraph 2, and, except as provided in Article 12, may make recommendations with regard to any such questions to the state or states concerned or to the Security Council or to both. Any such question on which action is necessary shall be referred to the Security Council by the General Assembly either before or after discussion. 3. Tlie General Assembly may call the attention of the Security Council to sit- uations whfch are likely to endanger international peace and security. 4. The powers of the Generd Assembly set forth in this Article shall not limit the general scope of Article 10. Article iz 1. While Sdeurfty Ccmncil is exercising in respect of any dispute or situa- tion the fimctic^ a^&^ed to it m the present Charter, the General Assembly shall rmt make tey regard to that dispute or situation un- less the Security CquiKil so requests. 2. The Secretary-Genera^ with the consent of the Security Council, shall no- tify the General Assembly at each any matters relative to the mainte- nance of international peace apd . wfeh are being dealt with by the Somrity Council and shdl Assembly, or tiie Members of the United Nations if the not in iime&i^ly the Security Council ceases to deal with such matters. . ( 452 ) Appendix Article 1. The General Assembly shall initiate studies and make recommendations for the purpose of: a. promoting international cooperation in the political field and encouraging the progressive development of international law and its codification; b. promoting international cooperation in the economic, social, cultural, edu- cation^, and h^th fields, and assisting in the realization of human rights and fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language, or religion. 2. The further responsibilities, functions, and powers of the General Assem- bly with respect to matters mentioned in paragraph i (b) above are set forth in Chapters IX and X. Article 14 Subject to the provisions of Article 12, the General Assembly may recommend measures for the peaceful adjustment of any situation, regardless of origin, which it deems likely to impair the general welfare or friendly relations among nations, including situations resulting from a violation of the provisions of the present Charter setting forth the Purposes and Principles of the United Nations, Article 15 1. The General Assembly shall receive and consider annual and special reports from the Security Council; these reports shall include an account of the measures that the Security Council has decided upon or taken to maintain international peace and security. 2. The General Assembly shall receive and consider reports from the other or- gans of the United Nations. Article 16 The General Assembly shall perform such functions with respect to the inter- national trusteeship system as are assigned to it under Chapters and XIII, in- cluding the approval of the trusteeship agreements for areas not designated as strategic. Article jy 1. The General Assembly shall consider and approve the budget of the Organization. 2. The expenses of the Organization shall be borne by the Members as appor- tioned by the General Assembly. 3. The General Assembly shall consider and approve any financial and budg- etary arrangements wi A specialized agencies referred to in Article 57 and shall examine the administrative budgets of such specialized agencies widi a view to making recommendations to the agencies concerned. VOTING Article 18 1. Each member of the General Assembly shall have one vote. 2. Decisions of the General Assembly on important questions shall be made by a two-thirds majority of the members present and voting. These questions shall ( 453 ) Politics among Nations include: recommendations with respect to the maintenance o£ international peace and security, the election of the non-permanent members of the Security Council, the election of the members of the !^onomic and Social Council, the dection of members of the Trusteeship Council in accordance with paragraph i (c) of Ar- ticle 86, the admission of new Members to the United Nations, the suspension of the rights and privileges of membership, the expulsion of Members, questions re- lating to the operation of the trusteeship system, and budgetary questions. 3. Decisions on other questions, including the determination of additional cat- egories of questions to be decided by a two-thirds majority, shall be made by a majority of the members present and voting. Article ig A Member of the United Nations which is in arrears in the payment of its fi- nancial contributions to the Organization shall have no vote in the General As- sembly if the amount of its arrears equals or exceeds the amoimt of the contribu- tions due from it for the preceding two full years. The General Assembly may, nevertheless, permit such a Member to vote if it is satisfied that the failure to pay is due to conditions beyond the control of the Member. PROCEDURE Article 20 The General Assembly shall meet in regular annual sessions and in such spe- cial sessions as occasion may require. Special sessions shall be convoked by the Secretary-General at the request of the Security Council or of a majority of the Members of the United Nations. Article 21 The General Assembly shall adopt its own rules ot procedure. It shall elect its President for each session. Article 22 The General Assembly may establish such subsidiary organs as it deems nec- essary for the performance of its functions. CHAPTER V The Seciurity Council COMPOSITION Article 23 I. The Security Council shall consist of eleven Members of the United Na- tions. Ihe Republic of China, France, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and the United States of America shall be permanent members of the Security Council. The General As- sembly shall elect six other Members of the United Nations to be non-permanent members of the Security Cotmdl, due r^rd being specially paid, in the first in- stance to the contribution of Members of the United Nations tx> the maintenance ( 454 ) Appendix ot international peace and security and to the other purposes of the Organization, and also to equitable geographical distribution, 2. The non-permanent members of the Security Council shall be elected for a term of two years. In the first election of the non-permanent members, however, three shall be chosen for a term of one year. A retiring member shall not be eligi- ble for immediate re-election. 3. Each member of the Security Coimcil shall have one representative. FUNCTIONS AND POWERS Article 24 1. In order to ensure prompt and effective action by the United Nations, its Members confer on the Security Council primary responsibility for the mainte- nance of international peace and security, and agree that in carrying out its duties under this responsibility the Security Council acts on their behalf. 2. In discharging these duties the Security Council shall act in accordance with the Purposes and Principles of the United Nations, The specific powers granted to the Security Council for the discharge of these duties are laid down in Chapters VT, VII, VIII, and XII, 3. The Security Cbvmcil shall submit annual and, when necessary, special re- ports to the General Assembly for its consideration. Article 25 The Members of the United Nations agree to accept and carry out the deci- sions of the Security Council in accordance with the present Charter. Article 26 In order to promote the establishment and maintenance of international peace and security with the least diversion for armaments of the world’s human and eco- nomic resources, the Security Council shall be responsible for formulating, with the assistance of the Military Staff Committee referred to in Article 47, plans to be submitted to the Members of the United Nations for the establishment of a system for the regulations of armaments. VOTING Article 27 j. Each member of the Security Council shall have one vote. 2, Decisions of the Security Council on procedural matters shall be made by an affirmative vote of seven members. 3. Decisions of the Security Council on all other matters shall be made by an affirmative vote of seven members including the concurring votes of the perma- nent members; provided that, in decisions under Chapter VI, and under para- graph 3 of Article 52, a party to a dispute shall abstain from voting. PROCEDURE Article 28 I, The Security Council shall be so organised as to be able to function contin- uously. Each member of the Security Council shall for this purpose be represented at all times at the seat of the Organization, ( 455 ) Politics among Nations 2, The Security Council shall hold periodic meetings at which each of its members may, if it so desires, be represented by a member of the government or by some other specially designated representative. 3. The Security Council may hold meetings at such places other than the seat of the Organization as in its judgment will best facilitate its work. Article 29 The Security Council may establish such subsidiary organs as it deems neces- sary for the performance of its functions. Article 50 The Seburity Council shall adopt its own rules of procedure, including the method of selecting its President. Article 5/ Any Member of the United Nations which is not a member of the Security Council may participate, without vote, in the discussion of any question brought before the sJxurity Council whenever the latter considers that the interests of that Member are specially affected. Article 52 Any Member of the United Nations which is not a member of the Security Coun. Imperialismus und Pazifismus als W eltanschauungen. Tubin- gen: J. G* B. Mohr, 1918. Moon, PAR3B2EK.*IteMAs;v Imperialism and World Politics. New York: The Mac- millan Conqmny, 1926. Nearing, Soorri T^ Tfd§edf .of Empire. New York: Island Pres^ 1945. Robbins, Lionel- The Economic Ctmses of War. London: Jonathan Cape, 1939. The Ecim&rmd Pr(Me 0 :f 4 ace and War: Some Rejections on Objec- tives and Mechamtms. New 1 fofk: Ihe Macmillan Company, 1948^ Schumpeter, Joseph. jotddwis - senschaft und ( 476 ) Bibliography Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, Second edition. New York; Harper & Brothers, 1947. Stalet, Eugene. War and the Private Investor: A Study in the Relations of In- ternational Private Investment, New York; Doubleday, Doran and Company, Inc., 1935. Sternberg, Fritz. The Coming Crisis, New York: The John Day Company, 1947 - SuLZBACH, Walter. Capitalist Warmongers” — A Modern Superstition, Chi- cago: University of Chicago Press, 1942. ViNER, Jacob. “International Finance and Balance of Power Diplomacy, 1880- 1914,” The Southwestern Political and Social Science Quarterly, Vol. 9, No. 4 (March 1929), pp. 407-51. . “International Relations Between State-Controlled National Economies,” American Economic Review Supplement, Vol. 34, No. i (March 1944), pp- 315-29. . “The Economic Problem.” Huszar, George B. de, editor. New Perspec- tives on Peace, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1944, pp. 85-114. Winslow, E. M. “Marxian, Liberal, and Sociological Theories of Imperialism,” The Journal of Political Economy, Vol. 39, No. 6 (December 1931), pp. 713-58. The Pattern of Imperialism, New York: Columbia University Press, 1948. On the policy of prestige, see in addition to the following books the literature cited under Part Ten: Dunn, Frederick S. Peaceful Change, New York: Council on Foreign Relations, 1937 - Nicolson, Harold. The Meaning of Prestige, Cambridge: The University Press, 1947. The fundamental work on political ideologies is: Mannheim, Karl. Ideology and Utopia: An Introduction to the Sociology of Knowledge, with a Preface by Louis Wirth. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1936. PART THREE On national power in general, see: Baldwin, Hanson W. The Price of Power, New York; Harper & Brothers, 1948, Beard, Charles A. The Idea of National Interest. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1934. Emeny, Brooks. Mainsprings of World Politics, New York: Foreign Policy As- sociation Headline Series, No. 42, 1943. Strausz-Hup£, Robert. The Balance of Tomorrow, New York: G. P. Putna m ’s Sons, 1945. On nationali^, see; Barker, Ernest. Ckrisriemity and Nationality, London: Oxford University Press, 1927. ( 477 ) Bibliography Baron, Salo Wittmayer. Modern Nationalism and Religion. New York: Har per & Brothers, 1947. Carr, Edward Hallett. Nationalism and After, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1945. Chadwick, H. Munro. The Nationalities of Europe and the Growth of National Ideologies, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1946. Cobban, Alfred. National Self-Determination, Revised edition, Chicago: Univer- sity of Chicago Press, 1948. Friedmann, W. The Crisis of the National State, London: Macmillan and Com- pany, Limited, 1943. Gooch, George P. Nationalism. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Howe, 1920. Hayes, Carleton J. The Historical Evolution of Modern Nationalism, New York: R. R. Smith, Inc., 1931. Hertz, Frederick. Nationality in History and Politics. New York: Oxford Uni- versity Press, 1944, Hula, Erich. “National Self-Determination Reconsidered,” Social Research, VoL 10, No. I (February 1943), pp. i~2i. Janowsky, Oscar L Nationalities and National Minorities, New York: The Mac- millan Company, 1945. Kohn, Hans. The Idea of Nationalism, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1944. Laski, Harold J. Nationalism and the Future of Civilization, London: Watts and Company, 193:^. Royal Institute of International Affairs. Nationalism, New York: Oxford University Press, 1946. Sturzo, Luigi, Nationalism and Internationalism, New York: Roy Publishers, 1946. SuLZBACH, Walter. National Consciousness, Washington: American Council on Public Affairs, 1943. West, Rebecca. The Meaning of Treason. New York: The Viking Press, 1947 - WiRTH, Louis. “Types of Nationalism,” The American Journal of Sociology, Vol, 41, No. 6 (May 1936), pp. 723-37. On the difEerent elements of national power, see: Barker, Ernest. National Character and the Factors of its Formation, London: Methuen & Co., Ltd., 1927. Benedict, Ruth, The Chrysanthemum and the Sword, Boston: Houghton Mif- flin Company, 1946. Bowman, Isaiah. The New World: Problems in Political Geography, Fourth edi- tion. New York: World Book Company, 1928. Brogan, D. W. The American Character, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1944. Carr-Saunders, A. M. World Population, New York: Oxford University Press, 1936. Colby, C. C., editor. Geographic Aspects of International Relations. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938. Emeny, Brooks. The Strategy of Raw Materials, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1934. pAiRcauEyB, James. Geography and Wotid Power, Eighth* edition. London: Uni- versity of London Press, 1941. ( 478 ) Bibliography Friedensburg, Ferdinand. Die mineralischen Bodenschdtze ah weltpolitische und militdrische Machtja\toren. Stuttgart: Ferdinand Enke, 1936. Gini, Corrado and Others. Population. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1930. Hartshorne, Richard. The Nature of Geography. Ann Arbor: Edwards Broth- ers, 1946. Hirschman, Albert O. National Power and the Structure of Foreign Trade.. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1945. Leith, C. K. World Minerals and World Politics. New York: Whitdesey House^ 1931. Leith, C. K., Furness, J. W., and Lewis, Cleona. World Minerals and World Peace. Washington: The Brookings Institution, 1943. Madariaga, Salvador. Englishmen, Frenchmen, Spaniards. Fourth edition. Lon- don: Oxford University Press, 1937- Notestein, F. W., Toenber, Irene B., and Kirk, Dudley. The Future Popula* tion of Europe and the Soviet Union. Geneva: League of Nations, 1944. Ratzel, Friedrich. Politische Geographic. Second edition. Miinchen: Oldenburg, 1903. Staley, Eugene. Raw Materials in Peace and War. New York: Council on For- eign Relations, 1937. Thompson, Warren S. Population Problems. Third edition. New York: McGraw- Hill Book Company, Inc., 1942. Weigert, Hans W. and Stefansson, Vilhjalmur. Compass of the World. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1944. Whittlesey, Derwent. The Earth and the State: A Study of Political Geogra- phy. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1939. . German Strategy of World Conquest. New York: Farrar & Rinehart, Inc., 1942. On geopolitics, see: Gyorgy, Andrew. Geopolitics. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1944. Hartshorne, Richard. “Recent Developments in Political Geography/* Ameri- can Political Science Review, Vol. 29, Nos. 5 & 6 (October and December 1935). PP- 785-804. 943 -^* Mackinder, Sir Halford J, “The Geographical Pivot of History,” Geographical Journal, Vol. 23 (1904), pp. 421-44. . Democratic Ideals and Reality. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1942. Mattern, Johannes. Geopoliti\: Doctrine of National Self-Sufficiency and Em- pire. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1942. Spykman, Nicholas J. The Geography of the Peace. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1944. Strausz-HupI, Robert. Geopolitics. New York: G. P. Putnam*s Sons, 1942. Weigert, Hans W. German Geopolitics. New York: Oxford University Press, 1942. . Genereds and Geographers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1942. ( 479 ) Bibliography PART FOUR On the theory of the balance of power, see: Donnadieu, L^once. Essai sur la theorie d*equilibre, Paris: A. Rousseau, 1900. Dupuis, Charles, he Principe d*equilibre et le Concert Europeen. Paris: Perrin et C^% 1909. Friedrich, Carl Joachim. Foreign Policy in the Malang. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1938. Gulick, Edward Vose. The Balance of Power. Philadelphia: The Pacifist Re search Bureau, 1943. Hoijer, Olaf. La Theorie d^equiUbre. Paris: A. Pedone, 1917- Hume, David. “Of the Balance of Power,” Essays Moral and Political. Third edi- tion. London, 1748. Kaeber, E. Die Idee des europaischen Gleichgewichts in der publizistischen hit- eratur voin 16. bis zur Mitte des 18. Jahrhunderts. Berlin: A. Duncker, 1907. Nys, Ernest. “La Thforie d’equilibre Europeen,” Revue de droit international et de legislation comparSe, Vol. 25 (1893), pp. 34-57- Phillimore, Sir Robert. Commentaries upon International haw. Second edition. VoL L London: Butterworths, 1871. Pribram, Karl. “Die Idee des Gleichgewichtes in der alteren nationalokonomi- schen Theorie,” Zeitschrift fur Vol\swirtschaft, Vol. 17, Part I (1908), pp. 1-28. Real de Curban, Gasparde. La Science du gouvemement. Vol. 6. Alx-la-Cha- pelle, 1765. Spykman, Nicholas. Americans Strategy in World Politics. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1942. Stieglitz, Alexandre de. De VEquilibre politique, du Ugitimisme et du prtncipe des nationdites. Vol. III. Paris: P^done-Lauriel, 1893, Tannenbaum, Frank. “The Balance of Power in Society,” Political Science Quar- terly, Vol, 61, No. 4 (December 1946), pp. 481-504. Toynbee, Arnold J. The World After the Paris Conference. New York: Oxford University Press, 1925- A Study of History. Vol. 3. New York: Oxford University Press, 1934- On the classic Indian theory of power politics and the balance of power, see: Kautilya. Arthdsdstra. Translated by R. Shamasastry. Mysore: Wesleyan Mission Press, 1929. Law, Narendra Nath. Interstate Relations in Ancient India. London: Luzac and Company, 192a. NAg, Kalidas. Les Theories diplomatiques de Tlnde ancienne et VArthagistra. Paris: Jouve et C‘% 1923. For the history of tite balance of power, see: Grant, A. J. and T^ra^tPERUEY, Harold. Europe in the Nineteenth and TwenUeth Centuries New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1940. Langer, William h. The Diplomacy of Imperialism. New \ork: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1935. European Alliances and AUptmenfs, i8yi-i8go. New York: Alfred A. Knop:^ Inc., 1931. ( 480 ) Bibliography Petrie, Sir Charles. Diplomatic History, 171^-1933- London: Hollis and Carter, Ltd., 1946. PoTiEMKiNE, Vladimir. Histoire de la diplomatic. Three volumes. Paris: Librairie de Medicis, 1946-7. Schmitt, Bernadotte E, Triple Alliance and Triple Entente. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1934. Seton-Watson, Robert W. Britain in Europe, i78^igi4. New York: The Mac- millan Company, 1937. SoNTAG, Raymond J. European Diplomatic History. New York: The Century Co., 1933 - Temperley, Harold. The Foreign Policy of Canning, 1S22-1827: England, the Neo-Holy Alliance, and the New World. London: G. Bell and Sons, Ltd., 1925. Webster, Charles K. The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh, 1812-1813. London: G. Bell and Sons, Ltd., 1931. WiNDELBAND, WoLFGANG. Die auswdftige Politi\ der Grossmdchte in der Neuzeit (749^/9/9). Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlagsanstalt, 1922. WoLFERs, Arnold. Britain and France between Two Wars, New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1940. PART FIVE For the general problem of rules of conduct, see: Morgenthau, Hans J. La RSalite des normes. Paris: Librairie Felix Alcan, 1934. Timasheff, N. S. An Introduction to the Sociology of Law, Cambridge: Harvard University Committee on Research in the Social Sciences, 1939. On the problem of international morality, see: Bosanquet, Bernard. The Philosophical Theory of the State, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1899. Carr, Edward Hallett. Conditions of Peace. New York: The Macmillan Com- pany, 1944. Huizinga, J. H. “On the High Cost of International Moralizing,” The Fort- nightly Review, VoL 156, New series (November 1944), pp. 295-300. ELraus, Herbert. “La Morale interaationie,” Hague Academy of International Law. Recueil des cours, VoL 16 (1927), pp, 3^-539. Lindsay, A. V, The Modem Democratic State, New York: Oxford University Press, 1947. Niebuhr, Reinhold. Moral Man and Immoral Society: A Study in Ethics and Politics. New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1932. Christianity and Power Politics, New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1940. ^*Democracy as a Religion,” Christianity and Crisis, Vol. 7, No. 14 (Au- gust 4, 1947), pp. 1-2. PoLiTis, Nicolas. La Morale intemationale. New York: Brentano's, 1944. Thompson, J. W. and Padover, S. K. Secret Diplomacy: A Record of Espionage and Double Dealing, 1300-1813. London: Jarrolds, Ltd., 1937. Weldon, T. D, States and Morals, New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, loc., 1947. West, Ranyard. Conscience and Society. New York: Emerson Books, 1945. ( 481 ) Bibliography See also the books by Carr and Morgenthau cited under Part One. On nationalistic universalism> consult the books in Part Three under Nation^ alism. On world public opinion, see: Dicey, A. V, Lectures on the Relation between Law and Public Opinion in Eng- land during the Nineteenth Century. London: Macmillan and Company, 1914. Ferrero, Gugliei-mo. The Unity of the World. London: Jonathan Cape, 1931. Lasswell, Harold D. World Politics and Personal Insecurity. New York: Whit- tlesey House, 1935. LippisiANN, Walter. Public Opinion. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1922. Lowell, A. Lawrence. Public Opinion and Public Government. New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1914. . Public Opinion in War and Peace. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926. Schindler, Dietrich. “Contribution a T^tude des facteurs sociologiques et psy- chologiques du droit international,” Hague Academy of International Law. Recu^ des cours, Vol. 46 (1933), pp. 231-322. Smith, Charles W. Public Opinion in a Democracy. New York: Prentice-Hall, 1939. Stratton, George Malcomb. Social Psychology of International Conduct. New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1929. part six For the general problems of international law, see: Bentwic^ Norman. International Law. London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1945. Brierly, ].L. The Law of Nations. Third edition. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1942. The Outloo\ for Internauonal Law. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1944. Dickinson, Edwin D, What Is Wrong with International Law? Berkeley; James J. Gillick and Company, 1947. Huber, Max. Die soziologischen Grundlagen des Vdl\errechts. Berlin: Dr. Walter Rothschild, 1928. Jessup, Philip C. A Modem Law of Nations. New York: The Macmillan Com- pany, 1948. Keeton, George W. and Schwarzenberger, Georg. Malting International Law Wor\. Second edition. London: Stevens & Sons, Limited, 1946. Lauterpacht, H. The Funcuon of Law in the International Community. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1933. Moore, John Bassett. Internauonal Law and Some Current Illusions. New York; The Macmillan Company, 1924. Morgenthau, Hans J. ^Tositivism, Functionalism, and International Law,” American Journal of International Law, Vol. 34 (April 1940), pp. 260-84. Royal Institute of Interkatipkal Affairs. International Sanctions. London, New York, and Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1938. ( 482 ) Bibliography ScHWARZENBERGER, Georg, A Manual of International Law, London: Stevens & Stevens, Limited, 1947. Starke, J. G. Introduction to International Law, London: Buttenvorths and Com- pany. Ltd., 1947. Williams, Sir John Fischer. Chapters on Current International Law and the League of ISlations, New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1929. . Aspects of Modern International Law, New York: Oxford University Press, 1939. On special problems connected with the Covenant of the League of Nations and the Charter of the United Nations, see the books cited under Part Eight. On sovereignty, see: Corwin, Edward S. The "President: Office and Powers, Second edition. New York: New York University Press, 1941. . Total War and the Constitution, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1947. Dickinson, Edwin T>, The "Equality of States in International Law, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1920. — . *‘A Working Theory of Sovereignty,” Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 42, No. 4 (December 1927), pp. 524-48; Vol. 43, No. i (March 1928), pp. 1-31. Duguit, Leon. Law in the Modern State, New York: B. W. Huebsch, 1919. Keeton, George W. National Sovereignty and International Order, London: Peace Book Company, 1939. Kelsen, Hans. General Theory of Law and State, Cambridge: Harvard Univer- sity Press, 1945. . Das Problem der Souveranitdt und die Theorie des "Vol\errechts, Tubin- gen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1920. Koo, Wellington, Jr. Voting Procedures in internationed Organizations, New York: Columbia University Press, 1947. ICrabbe, H. The Modern Idea of the State, New York: D. Appleton and Com- pany, 1922. Laski, Harold J. Studies in the Problem of Sovereignty, New Haven: Yale Uni- versity Press, 1917. . Authority in the Modem State, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1919. . The Foundations of Sovereignty and Other Essays, London: G. Allen and Unwin, 1921. Mattern, Johannes. Concepts of State, Sovereignty and International Law, Bal- timore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1928. Merriam, Charles E. History of the Theory of Sovereignty since Rousseau, New York: Columbia University Press, 1900. Riches, Cromwell A. Majority Rule in International Organizations, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1940. PART SEVEN On the general nature of contemporary world politics, see: Armstrong, Hamilton Fish. The Calculated Ris\, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1947. Carr, Edward Hallett. Conditions of Peace, New York: The Macmillan Com- pany, 1944. ( 483 ) Bibliography Fischer, Eric. The Passing of the European Age. Cambridge: Harvard Univer- sity Press, 1943. Fox, WiLEiAM T, R. The Super-Powers. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Com- pany, 1944. Lippmann, Walter. V. S. Foreign Policy. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1943- . U. S. War Aims. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1944. . The Cold War. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1947. STRAUsz-Hupi, Robert. The Balance of Tomorrow. New York; G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1945. ViNER, Jacob. ‘'The Implications of the Atomic Bomb for International Rela- tions,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 90, No. i (Philadelphia, 1946), pp. 53-8. Welles, Sumner. Where Are We Heading? New York: Harper & Brothers, 1946. Yale Institute of International Studies (William T. R, Fox, rapporteur). United States Policy in a Two-Power World. New Haven: Yale Institute of International Studies, 1947. On total war, see: Brodie, Bernard. Sea Power in the Machine Age. Princeton: Princeton Univer- sity Press, 1941. , editor. The Absolute Weapon: Atomic Power and World Order. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1946. Clarkson, Jesse and Cochran, Thomas C., editors. War as a Social Institution. New York: Columbia University Press, 1941. Earle, Edward Mead, editor. Makers of Modern Strategy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1944. Ferrero, Guglielmo- Peace and War. London: Macnullan and Company, Lim- ited, 1933. Hart, B. H. Liddell, The Revolution in Warfare. London: Faber & Faber, Ltd., 1946- Mumford, Lewis. Techniques and Civilization. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1934. Ogburn, William Fielding. The Social Effects of Aviation. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1946. Oman, Sir Charles. A History of the Art of War in the Sixteenth Century. New York; E. P. Dutton and Company, 1937. Schultz, T^iec^dore W. “Changes in the Economic Structure Affecting Ameri- can Agriculture,” Journal of Farm Economics, Vol. i8, No. i (February 3:946), pp.‘ 15-27. Sfadldinc^ O. Nickerson, Hoffman, and Wright, J. W. Warfare. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1925. Speier, Hans. *‘kfilitarism in the Eighteenth Century,” Social Research, Vol. 3, No. 3 (August 1936), pp. 305-36. — — — — , Class Structure and ‘Total War.’ ” American Sociological Review, Vol. 4, No. 3 (June 1939), PP* 37^8o. Speier, Hans and Kahijjr, Alfred, editors. War in Our Time. New York: W. W. Norton & Co^ 1939. Vagts, Alfred. A History of Militarism. New York: W. W. Norton Co., 1937. Woodward, E- L. Some Politi<^ of the Atomic Eomb. New York: Oxford University Press, 1946. ( 484 ) Bibliography PART EIGHT On the history of peace plans, see: Hemleben, Sylvester John. Plans for World Peace through Six Centuries. Chi- cago: tFniversity of Chicago Press, 1945. Lange, Christian. Histoire de Vintemationalisme. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1919. Marriott, J. A. R. Commonwealth or Anarchy? A Survey of Projects of Peace from the Sixteenth to the Twentieth Century. New York: Columbia Univer- sity Press, 1939. Paullin, Theodore. Comparative Peace Plans. Philadelphia: Pacifist Research Bureau, 1943- Souleyman, Elizabeth V. The Vision of World Peace in Seventeenth- and Eighth eenth-Century France. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1941. Wynner, Edith and Lloyd, Georgia. Searchlights on Peace Plans. New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1944. On disarmament, see: Buell, Raymond Leslie. The Washington Conference. New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1922. Griswold, A, Whitney. The Far Eastern Policy of the United States. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1938. Morgan, Laura Puffer. The Problem of Disarmament. New York: Commission to Study the Organization of Peace, 1947. Possony, Stephen T. “No Peace Without Arms,” The Review of Politics, Vol. 6, No. 2 (April 1944), pp. 216-27. Shils, Edward A. Atomic Bombs in World Politics. London: National Peace Council, 1948. Tate, Merze. The Disarmament Illusion. New York: The Macmillan Company, . The United States and Armaments. Q2ichxiAgt: Harvard University Press, 1948. Wheeler-Bennett, John. The Pipe-Dream of Peace: The Story of the Collapse of Disarmament. New York: William Morrow and Company, 1935. Woodward, E. L. Some Political Consequences of the Atomic Bomb. New York: Oxford University Press, 1946. On security, see: Jessup, Philip C. International Security. New York: Council on Foreign Rela- tions, 1935. Mitrany, David. The Problem of International Sanctions. New York: Oxford University Press, 1925. Royal Institute of International Affairs. International Sanctions. London: Oxford University Press, 1938. Wild, Payson S. Sanctions and Treaty Enforcement. Cambridge: Harvard Uni- versity Press, 1934. ( 485 ) Bibliography On judicial settlement* see: Kei-sen, Hans. Feace through Law. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1944. Lauterpacht, H. The Function of Law in the International Community. Ox- ford: The Clarendon Press, 1933. Morgenthau, Hans J. La Notion du ''politique*' et la theorie des differends inter- nationaux. Paris: Librairie du Recueil Sirey, 1933. Schindler, Dietrich. Die Schiedsgerichtsbar\eit seit 19/4. Stuttgart: W. Kohl- hammer, 1938. For peaceful change, see in addition to the titles under international govern- ment the following book: Dunn, Frederick S. Peaceful Change. New York: Council on Foreign Relations, 1937 - On international government, see: Barker, Ernest. The Confederation of Nations. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1918. Brierley, J. L. The Covenant and the Charter. Cambridge: The University Press, 1947. Briggs, Herbert W. “Power Politics and International Organization,” Journal of International Law, VoL 39, No. 4 (October 1945), pp. 664-79. Burton, Margaret E. The Assembly of the League of Nations. Chicago: Univer- sity of Chicago Press, 1941. CoNWELL, Evans, T. P. The League Council in Action. London: Oxford Univer- sity Press, 1929. Corbett, Percy E. Post-War Worlds. Los Angeles: Institute of Pacific Relations, 1942. Davis, Harriet Eager, editor. Pioneers in World Order. New York: Columbia University Press, 1944. Dell, Robert. The Geneva Racket, 1^20-1^^^. London: Robert Hale, Ltd., 1940. Doltvet, Louis. The United Nations. New York: Farrar, Straus and Company, 1946. Eagleton, Clyde. International Government. Revised edition. New York: The Ronald Press Company, 1948. Evatt, Herbert Verb, The United Nations. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1948. Freeman, Harrop A. “The United Nations Organization and International Law,’^ Cornell Law Quarterly, Vol. 31, No. 3 (March 1946), pp. 259-84. , Coercion of States in International Organizations. Philadelphia: The Paci- fist Research Bureau, 1944. Freeman, Harrop A. and Paullin, Theodore. Coercion of States in Federal Unions. Philadelphia: The Pacifist Research Bureau, 1943. Friedrich, Carl Joachim. Foreign Policy in the Maying. New York: W. W. Nor- ton & Co., 1938. , Inevitable Peace. Cambridge: BLarvard University Press, 1948. GooDmcH, Leland M. and Hambro, Edvard. Charter of the United Nations: Commentary and Documents. Boston: World Peace Foundation, 1946. Hankey, Lord Maurice P. Diplomacy by Conference. New York: G. P. Put- nam’s Sons, 1946. Harley, J. Eugene. Documentary Textboo\ on the United Nations. Los Angeles: Center for International Understanding, 1947. ( 486 ) Bibliography McCallum, R. B. Public Opinion and the Last Peace, New York: Oxford Uni- versity Press, 1944. Moroenthau, Hans J,, editor. Peace, Security, and the United Nations, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1946. Morley, Felix. The Society of Nations. Washington: The Brookings Institution, 1932. Nicolson, Harold. The Congress of Vienna: A Study in Allied Unity, 1812- 1822. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1946. Nys, M. Ernest. “Le Concert Europeen et la notion du droit international,” Re- vue de droit international, Deuxieme Serie, Vol. i (1899), pp. 273-313. Oppenheim, L. The League of Nations and Its Problems. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1919. Phillips, Walter Alison. The Confederation of Europe. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1914. Potter, Pitman B. An Intro diction to the Study of International Organization. Fifth edition. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc., 1948. Ray, Jean. Commentaire du Pacte de la Societe des Nations. Paris: Recueil Sirey, 1930. Schenk, H. G. The Aftermath of the Napoleonic Years: The Concert of Europe — an Experiment. New York: Oxford University Press, 1948. “Symposium on World Organization,” The Yale Law Journal, Vol. 55, No. 5 (August 1946). ViNAcKE, Harold M. International Organization. New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1934 - Woolf, L. S. International Government. New York: Brentano’s, 1916. World Organization: A Balance Sheet of the First Great Experiment. Washing- ton: American Council on Public Affairs, 1942. ZiMMERN, Sir Alfred E. The League of Nations and the Rule of Law. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1939. See also the books by Temperley, Webster, and Wolfers, cited under Part Four. PART NINE On the problem or the world state, see; Brinton, Crane. From Many One: The Process of Political Integration. The Problem of World Government. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1948. Ewing, Alfred C. The Individual, the State, and World Government. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1947* Guerard, Albert. “The World Comes of Age,” The Nation, Vol. 162, No. 16 (April 20, 1946), pp. 457-9. Lewis, Edward R. “Are We Ready for a World State?” The Yale Review, Vol. 35, No. 3 (March 1946), pp. 491-501. Marriott, T, A. R. Federalism and the Problem of the Small State. London: G. Allen and Unwin, 1943. Martin, William. A History of Switzerland. London: Grant Richards, 1931. Meyer, Cord. Peace or Anarchy. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1947. Naf, Werner. Die Schweiz in Europa. Bern: Herbert Lang and Company, 1938. Niebuhr, Reinhold. “The Myth of World Government.” The Nation, Vol. 162, No. II (March 16, 1946), pp, 312-14. ( 487 ) Bibliography Pelcovits, N. a. “World Government Now?” Harper's, Vol. 193, No. 1156 (No- vember 1946), pp. 396-403. Rappard, William E. Cinq siicles de sScurite collective, I2gi-iyg8, Paris: Re- cueil Sirey, 1945. Reves, Emery. The Anatomy of Peace, New York: Harper & Brothers, 1946. Rider, Fremont. The Great Dilemma of World Organization, New York; Rey- nal & Hitchcock, 1946. On the problem of the world community, see: Finer, Herman. The United Nations Economic and Social Council. Boston: The World Peace Foundation, 1946. Freeman, Harrop A. and Paullin, Theodore. Eoad to Peace: A Study in Func- tional International Organization. Ithaca: The Pacifist Research Bureau, 1947* Huszar, George B. de, editor. New Perspectives on Peace, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1944. ^ editor. Persistent International Issues, New York and London; Harper & Brothers, 1947. Huxley, Julian. UNESCO. Washington: Public Affairs Press, 1947. James, William. A Moral Equivalent for War, New York: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 1926. McMurry, Ruth Emily and Lee, Muna. The Cultural Approach: Another Way in International Relations. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1947. Mitrany, David. A Wording Peace System, London: Royal Institute of Interna- tional Affairs, 1944. Murphy, Gardner, editor. Human Nature and Enduring Peace, New York: Rey- nal and Hitchcock, Inc., 1945. Sharp, Walter R. “The Specialized Agencies and the United Nations: Progress Report I,” International Organization, Vol. I, No. 3 (September 1947), pp. 46^4. Wright, Quincy, editor. The World Community, Chicago: University of Chi- cago Press, 1948. PART TEN On the problems of diplomacy, sec: Beard, Charles A. The Idea of National Interest. New York; The Macmillan Qmpany, 1934. Calli^res, f^N^is DE. On the Manner of Negotiating with Princes * Boston: Houston Mifflin Co., 1919. Cambon, Jules, Le Diplomate, Paris: Hachtttc, 1926. Chaacbrun, Charl^ DE, HEsprit de la diphmaAe. Paris: Editions CorrSa, 1944. Foster, John W. The Practice of Diplomacy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Com- pany, 1906. Friedrich, Carl Joaotm. Pordgn Pedi^ m the Maying, New, York: W, W. Nor- ton & Co., 19384 / . V,: Heatley, David Platrahl Study of Intef^t^ond R$lat^ns. Oxford: The Clarendon ^ ^ \ . (488) Bibliography Jones, Joseph M, A Modern Foreign Policy for the United States, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1944. JussERAND, Jean A. The School for Ambassadors and Other Essays, New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1925. Lippmann, Walter. The Stages of Diplomacy, New York: Henry Holt and Com- pany, 1917. Mably, Abbe Gabriel Bonnet de. “Principcs des negociations,” Collection com- plete des oeuvres de VAbhe de Mably, VoL 5. Paris: i794‘-5. Morley, John Viscount. On Compromise, London: Macmillan and Company, Limited, 1923. Mowrer, Paul Scott. Our Foreign Affairs: A Study in National Interest and the New Diplomacy, New York: E. P. Dutton and Company, 1924. Nicolson, Harold G. Diplomacy, London: T. Butterworth, 1939. Oncken, Hermann. Politi\ und Kriegfuhrung, Munich: Max Huber, 1928. Redlich, Marcellus D. International Law as a Substitute for Diplomacy, Chi- cago: Independent Publisher Co., 1928. Reinsch, Paul S. Secret Diplomacy, New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922. WiLLiTs, Joseph H. “Social Adjustments to Atomic Energy,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 90, No. i (Philadelphia, 1946), pp. 48-52. Young, George. Diplomacy Old and New, London: Swarthmore Press, 1921. ( 489 ) INDEX Adamses, diplomacy of the, 107 Adjudication, see International Courts Air force, influence upon distribution of power, 89 ff. See also Revolution, Tech- nology, Total war Aix-la-Chapelle, Congress of (1818), 363, 367 Alabama claims, 220, 225 Alaska, acquisition of, by United States (1867), 25 Alberi, Eugeno, 144/z Alexander I of Russia: advised by mem- bers of international aristocracy, 1865 and Holy Alliance, 362, 365 £F. Alexander the Great, and imperialism, 31^ 32, 36, 42, 48 Allee, Warder, 1772 Alliance, between Brazil and Uruguay (1851), 147; Austro-German (1879), 24; Franco-Russian (1894), 24, 46, 54, 106; Franco-British (1912), 153, 154; British- Japanese, dissolution of (1922), 316; Franco-Russian (1935), 142, 37372. See also Triple Alliance, Triple Entente, world wars, major powers Alliances of France, after First World War, 24, 35, 142, 318, 372; of Soviet Union after Second World War, 24 Alliances, ideological disguise of, 64; as instruments of status quo, 24, 318, 372; as method of balance of power, 137 ff., 153 318; SIS restraints on national policies, 271 ff.; risks for great powers, 442. American Banana Co, vs. United Fruit Co., on sovereignty, 25072 American Century, 115 American Civil War, more important for United States than international affairs, 7, 8 . See dso Peaceful change. Tech- nology, Tension American Constitution, interpretation, 217, 219, 220 Angell, Norman, on war, 33 Anglo-German Naval Agreement (1935), 314, 316, 317, 325, 326. See dso Dis- armament Anzilotti, Judge: on international law of maritime bdt, 214; on political charac- ter of Austro-German Customs Union Case, 348 Appeasement, 43 ff. Arab policy, with regard to Palestine, 357, 360 Arbitration, international: concept, 22072; institutional, 221; isolated, 220. See dso International Courts Arbitration Movement, 341 Argentina, see topical headings Aristocracy, international cohesion in eighteenth century, 185 ff. Armaments, as method of balance of power, 136, 137, 151, 152, 156, 157, 314, 315, 327, 330. See dso Balance of Power, Disarmament Armies, influence of size on character of war, 292, 293, 301, 302. See dso Total war. War Armstrong, Hamilton F., 473, 483 Artillery, influence on ^stribution of power, 89, 91. See also Frederick the Great, Napoleon, Technology Atlantic Charter, 97, 194 Atomic bomb, influence on distribution of power, 81, 90, 319; and international morality, 192; tests and policy of pres- tige, 54 Atomic Development Authority, 252 ff.; veto against its decisions, 254, 255; and world government, 253, 255 Atomic energy, international control, 252 ff.; influence on national power, 109, no, 115; revolution in warfare, 296, 297. See dso Disarmament, United Nations Atomic Energy Commission, United States Atomic war, potentialities, 319 ff. Atomic weapons, compared with tradi- tional ones, 319, 320 Augustus: and imperialism, 28; and pop- ulation decrease, 94 Australia, see topical headings Austria, diplomacy on eve of First World War, 442; traditional foreign policy, 278; independence and balance of power, 133, 146 ff. See also World War, First, topical headings Austro-German Customs Union Case, po- litical character of, 347, 348 Austro-Prussian War (1866), 146 ff.; and imperialism, 31 Axis, of Germany, Italy, and Japan (1936), 142 Bacon, Francis, on balance of power, 138 Balance of power, 125 ff., 270®.; African, 147; in American government, 127 ff.; amorality in eighteenth century: 139, as practiced by Great Britain, 143 and by Italy, 144; and Balkans, 133, 140 ff., 146, 149, 282, 284; and Belgium, 133, 141, 162; bipolar between United States and Soviet Union, 149, 157, 272, 284 ff., 305, 430, 438, 440; general characteris- Index Balance of power iconttnued) tics: in eighteenth century, 139 and in mid-twentieth century, 148, 149, 270 ff.; center no longer in Europe, 148, 149, 284, 376; and collective security, 142, 332 flE.; and disappearance of colonial &ontier, 278 ff.; concept, 125, 126, 151; inner contradiction, 13 1, 150; criterion for measuring, criticized by Manchester liberals, 145; different in in- ternational and domestic politics, 127W; as dogma, 145; in domestic politics, 127 ff.; dominant and dependent sys- tems, 146 ff.; Eastern, 146; European, as function of world-wide system, 149, 284; expansion from Europe to world, 139, 140, 148, 149, 284; in Far East, 147, 149; flexibility, 271 fl.; two functions, lapfE.; German, 133, 146 fl.; "‘holder’* or balancer, 143 ff., 273 ff.; inevitability, 125, 150; instability, 131, 150; in Italy in sixteenth century, 138, 144, 146, 147; and League of Nations, 142; methods, 134 ff.; and moral consensus of Western Civilization, 160 ff., 267; and national independence, 129 ff., 143, 150, 157, I59ff,; in Near East^ 147, 149; and neu- trals, 273; Northern, 146; influence of number of participants, 270 ff.; two typical patterns, 130 ff., 142, 143; and prevention ol war, 156, 157; and pre- ventive war, 155, 156; as restraint on na- tional polides, 271 ff., 278; self-restraint as precondition for, 164, as protec- tion of small nations, 131 m, 150, 165/2, 273; as general sodal prindple, 125 ff.; and international stabflity, 129 ff., 150, 159 ff.; structure, 146 ff., 270 ff., 376; as struggle for supremacy, 155 ff.; and Switzerland, 404, 405; uncertainty, 142, 151 ff., 271 ff.; unreality, 155 ff.; and wca'ld empire, 132 ff., 150, 157. See dso Equilibritim, Holy Alliance, League of Nations, United Nations, World Wars, maj<^ powers Baldwin, Hanson W., 477 Baldwin, ^tanl^, infhiencc on British power, 107 Balkans, divided by Anglo-Russian agr^ ment o£ 1944,^^61 iiScse dsa Balance power, W<^ld War,. Fii^t, mafOT powers Balkan Wars; whhotit comomic ol^cc- tives, 31; and impctia^ti;^ 37 , , Ballis, William, on docti^e ^ just war, 289 \ Barker, Ernest 477, 478, cm wet- cignty, 26 i« Baron, Sale W., 478 Barrdr^ Camille (French Barthou, Louis (French Foreign Minis- ter), military alliance with ^viet Un- ion, 37sn Bartlett, Ruhl J., 8/2, 2922 Basel, Treaty of (1795), ^^45 ^^5 Beales, A. C. F., 1622 Beard, Charles A., 475, 476, 477, 488; on balance of power in American govern- ment, 128, 129; on imperialism, 29 Beard, Mary R., 475 Becker, Carl L., 475 Belgium: German violation of neutrality in 1914, 189; neutrality guaranteed, 231. See also topical headings, espedally Bal- ance of power. World War, First, major powers Benedict, Ruth, 478 Bentham, Jeremy, against colonies as cause of war, i 5 , 34, 309 Bcntwich, Norman, 482 Berlin, Congress of: and balance of power, 141, 282; example of accommodating diplomacy, 444; and German prestige. Berlin, Treaty of (1878), 231 Beveridge, Senator J., and imperialism, 29 Bicocca, battle of (1522), example of limited warfare, 290 Bismarck, Prince Otto von, 24, 37, 38, 45, 186, 189, 279; on Balkan Question, 282; on importance of Dardanelles for Russia, 385; and German power, 107; moral lirnitations of his foreign policy, 176, 177; on Russian national character, 97, 98 Blackstonc, Sir William, 350 Bluff, policy of, 58, 59, 68; by Italy (r935~ 42), 58; by Great Britain (1797, 1940- 41). 59 , Boer War (1899-1902), 279; economic causes, 31; and technology, 302 Bolivia, invoking Article 19 of Covenant of the League of Nations against Chile, Bosanquet, Bernard, 481 Bose, Subhas Chandra, 102 Bowman, Isaiah, 478 Boxer Rebellion (1900), 387 Bri^d-Kcllogg Pact (1928), 180, 211, 236; binding force, 218; and world public pinion, 197 gricrly, J* L^ 482, 486; on enforcement of internatiorial law, 228; on misconception of international law, 209; on reservations on jurlstflction Permanent Qo^rt of International Justice, 222 British Empire, based on prestige, 57; on self-restraint, 121. See also Great Britain, and topical headings British imperialism, see Imperialism Brodie, Bernard, 484 Brogan, D. W., 478 Brown, Francis J., 473 Brunswick, Duke of (military commander in War of First Coalition, 1792-97), 185 Bryce, James, 473; on balance of power in American government, 128, 129 Bryson, Lyman, 475 Buell, Raymond L., 473, 485 Buffer states, 133 Bukharin, Nikolai L, 476; on imperialism, 30, 46 Bulgaria, peace treaty of 1947 with, 22 Burke, Edmund, 96; on bailee of power, 133, 148; on diplomacy, 440 fE.; on na- tional power and self-restraint, 121, 122; on tot^tarian propaganda, 301 Burnham, James, and permanent charac- ter of power, ii5« Burns, John (British statesman), 188 Burns, C. Delisle, 474 Burton, Margaret E., 486 Caesar, Julius, 96; and imperialism, 28 Calhoun, John C., on mission of the United States, 20 Calli^es, Francois de, 488 Cambon, Jules (French diplomatist), 106, 488 Cambon, Paul (French diplomatist), 106, I54« Camden, William, 144^ Canada, and naval disarmament, 315, See also topical headings Canning, George, and balance of power, 96, 140, 149, 367; and the Holy Alli- ance, 362 ff.; his influence on British power, 106; innovation in his policy, 367 Cannon, Walter B., on analogy between biological and political equilibrium, I26« Capitalism, and imperialism, 29 ff. Carr, Edward Hallett, 475, 478, 481, 482, 483; on international morality, 177 Carr-Saunders, A. M., 478 Carthaginian Peace, and imperialism, 35; moral significance, 177 Castlercagh, Viscount, 162; general char- acter of his policy, 367; and the Holy Alliance, 362 ff.; influence on British power, 106 Cato (Roman statesman), on Carthage, Cavour, and imperialism, 37; and Italian power, 107 Index Cedi, Lord Robert (Elizabethan states- man), 184 Cecil, Lord Robert (contemporary British statesman), on world public opinion, 197 Chaco War, between Bolivia and Paraguay (1932-35), 236, 374; economic causes, Chadwick, H. Munro, 478 Chamberlain, Joseph, and imperialism, 27, 28 Chamberlain, Neville, dilemma in 1938; 114, 162; his influence on British power, 106, 107 Chambrun, Charles de, 488 Charlemagne, and unity of world, 309 Charles II of England, and balance of power, 145 Charles VTII of France, invasion of Italy, 89,90 Charles V of Hapsburg, and balance of power, 138, 144, 145, 156, 157; and im- perialism, 157 Chaumont, Treaty of (March 9, 1814), 361 ff. China, and balance of power, 273; dvil war, 386, 387; dvilization, 409; point of friction between United States and Soviet Union, 386, 387; policy toward, 23. See dso Japan, topical headings Churchill, Winston, 53, 62, 89, 90^; on ac- commodating diplomacy, 445; on French Army in 1937, 113; and imperialism, 27, 28; influence on British power, 107; on British policy in Italo-Ethiopian War, 204, 337; on British population decrease, 94; on policy toward ^viet Union, 445 Civilization: as sodal reactions to rules of conduct, 172 Clarkson, Jesse, 484 Clausewitz, Carl von, on war, 285 Clemenceau, Georges, on German prob- lem, 176, 177; and nationalism, 191; on importance of oil for national power, 84 Coal, as dement of national power, 84 Cobban, Alfred, 478; on independence of small nations, 1657? Cobden, Richard, on free trade as alter- native to war, 16, 34 Cochran, Thomas C., 484 Colby, C. C., 478 “Cold War,*' 285 Collective security, 232 ff., 331 ff.; basic assumptions, 332 ff.; and balance of power, 142, 332 ff.; and Chaco War, 236; as defense of status quo, 332 ff.; and enforcement of international law, 232 ff.; ideal and reality, 332 ff.; as ( iii Index Collective Security {conUnued) ideology, 64; and Italo-Ethiopian War, 2365 336, 337; under the League of Na- tions, 232 fl., 237, 332, 336, 337;. and localized war, 334 ff.; and the national interest, 332 ff,; and peace, 334 ff.; po- litical problem, 331 ff.; regional, 336»; and Russo-Finnish War (1939), 236; and the Sino-Japanese conflict (1931, 1937)5 2355 236; and the status quo of Versailles, 318; and the United Nations, 236 ff.; as universal war, 334 ff. Collective self-defense, under Charter of the United Nations, 238, 239. See also United Nations Charter Colombia, and revolution establishing Panama (1903), 229 Colonial expansion: influence upon bal- ance of power, 278 ff.; of France, 278; of Great Britain, 278; of Spain, 278 Colonies, claim for; ideological character of, 66 n Communications, international, and inter- national understanding, 201, 202 Communist International, and imperial- ism, 41; and modern nationalism, 76; and nationalistic universalism, 194. See also Soviet Union, Totalitarianism, World War, Second Communists, policies in France during Second World War, 103 Compensations, policy of: and colonial expansion, 135, 136, 279; at Congress of Vienna, 135; as method of balance of power, 135, 136, 151; standards of evaluation, 135. See also Diplomacy Competition, as refinement of struggle for power, 172, 173; as substitute for vio- lence, 172, 173. See also Peaceful change. World community. World state Compromise, see Diplomacy Concert of Europe, 367, 3^; and balance of power, 161, 162, and colonial expansion, 368; and Crimean War, 368; as government by great powers, 367, 368; and moral consensus, 368; and nationalism, 368; success due to diplo- macy, 368 Conference on the Progressive Codifica- tion of International Law (1930), 215, 216 Conscription in France (1793) and Prus- sia (1807, 1814), significance for na- tionalism, 291, 292 Constitutional Convention of 1787, on sov- erdgnty, 260, 261 Convention for the Pacific Settlement of International Disputes (1899, 1907), 216, 225 Convention with Respect to the Laws and Customs of War on Land (1899 and 1907), binding force after disregard in Second World War, 218, 219 Conwell, Evans, 486 Corbett, Percy E., 486 Corwin, Edward S., 483 Coups d’etat, more likely than revolutions, 353. See also Revolution, State Crimean War (1854-56), and balance of power, 141, 158; and Concert of Eu- rope, 368; and economic objectives, 31; and faulty diplomacy, 442 Cruc 4 Emeric, 309 Crusade, First, and imperialism, 32 Crusades, and nationalistic universalism, 194, 195 Cuba, see Havana, Treaty of Curti, Merle, 19^, 475 •Dardanelles, strategic importance, 385, 386. See cdso Bismarck, Turkey, topical headings Darwin, Charles, source of biological ide- ologies of imperialism, 65, 128 Davis, Harriet E., 486 Defoe, Daniel, on limited warfare, 288 Delaisi, Francis, 476 Dell, Robert, 486 Democracy: influence on conduct of for- eign affairs, 187, 188; and international morality, i87ff.; and national morale, 104 Denmark, national morale in Second World War, 104 Descartes, Rend, 96 Dewey, John, on German national char- acter, 96 Dicey, A. V., 482 Dickinson, Edwin D., 482, 483 Diderot, Denis, on war, 310 Diplomacy, 105 ff., 419 ff.; ceremonial, 50 ff., 422; of “cold war,*' 285; and de- velopment of communications, 425, 426, 437; by compromise: 43, 44, 421, 430, 4335 441^*5 ^ disarmament, 323, finan- dd incentives for, 323, made impossible by nationalistic universalism, 193; con- cept lo^n, 419; concomitant with mod- ern state system, 426, 431; conditions of revival, 431 ff.; in conferences after Sec- ond World War, 428, 437; decline, 425 ff., 431 ff.; depredation, 426, ^7, 431; and espionage, 424; at Foreign Ministers' Conferences, 428; and frag- mentation of international issues, 435 ff.; functions of foreign ofiEce: 421 ff., con- fused with rq)rescntation, 437; instru- ments, 421 ff.; intellectual quahties, 273, Index Diplomacy {continued) 279, 284, 430, 443; in fifteenth-century Italy, 424; of League of Nations, 427; legal representation, 423; legalism, 441, 442; by majority vote: 428, 433 £F., com- pared to majority vote in national so- cieties, 434, 436; means, 421; in Middle Ages, 424; its militarization, 429, 430, 437? 438, 442, 443; and moral consensus, 440; and the national interest, 420, 421, 440, 443; as element of national power, 105 ff., 419; through negotiations, 136, 424, 428, 430, 432, 433, 443, 444; obso- lescence between United States and So- viet Union, 428, 430; open, 427, 428, 431 ff.; at Paris Peace Conference of 1946, 428; by parliamentary procedures, 427, 428, 431 iff.; and peace, 419 ff., 430, 433 j 435? 437 through persuasion, 421, 424, 443, 444; political representa- tion, 423, 424; inseparable from power politics, 426, 431; tlurough pressure, 155, 443, 444; and propaganda, 424, 433, 437; and die pressure of public opinion, 432, 433; secret, 426, 427, 431 ff.; as source of mformation, 423, 424, 430; as sym- bolic representation, 52, 422; its tasks, 419 ff., 438 ff.; through threat of force, 421, 424, 430; of United Nations, 427, 428, 437; and World community, 444, 445; and World state, 419, 445 ‘‘Diplomacy by conference,” 162, 362 Diplomacy, quality of: Belgium, 106; im- portance of its constancy, 107, 108; France, 106, 107; Germany, 106 ff.; Great Britain, 106 ff.; Italy, 107; Ru- mania, 106; Franklin D. Roosevelt, 429; Soviet Union, 422, 429, 430; United States, 105 ff., 428 ff. See also major lowers “Diplomatic revolution” of 1756, 274 Disarmament, 311 ff.; in aggressive weap- ons, 328; in atomic weapons, 3191!., 324, 327, 328; standards of allocation, 321 ff.; difficulties of allocation, 136, 137, 322 ff.; as method of balance of power, 136, 137, 314, 315, 330; and character of war, 327 ff.; concepts, 31 1; general, 31 1, 31711.; at Hague Peace Confer- ences, 312, 317; history, 3iiff.; local, 311, 315, 317; basic misconception, 327; and peaces 326 ff.; dqpcndent on settle- ment of underlying power conffict, 315, 318 ff., 322 ff., 327 ff., 331; main prob- lems, 314 ff.; qualitative, 311, 328, 329; quantitative, 311, 329; and the ratio of armaments, 314 ff.; as regulated arma- ments race, 315, 317, 324 ff., 329; Rus- sian proposals for universal, 327; and Disarmament {continued^) security, 317 ff.; in Treaty of Versailles, 312, 329. See dso Armaments, individ- ual agreements and conferences Disraeli, and accommodating diplomacy, 444; and imperialism, 27, 28 “Divide and rule,” as method of balance of power, 134, 135, 143 Dolivet, Louis, 486 Dollar diplomacy, 97 Dollar imperialism, 39 Donnadieu, Leonce, 480 Dred Scott Case, 353 Duguit, Leon, 483 Dulles, Allen W., on plot against Hitler, 301^ Dunn, Frederick S., 475, 477, 486; on Ar- ticle 19 of Covenant of League of Na^ tions, 355 Dupuis, Charles, 480 Eagleton, Clyde, 486 Earle, Edward Mead, Sgn, 484 Economic policies, bearing on power, 15, 32,33.38,48 Egypt, sovereignty, 252/2 Einzig, Paul, 476 Elizabeth of England, and balance of power, 144 Embargo, moral, against Japan (1938) and Soviet Union (1939), 182 Emeny, Brooks, 474, 477, 478 Enlightenment, and peace, 310 Equality, in armaments, 65, 316 ff., 321 ff.; as synonym of sovereignty, 246 Equilibrium, concept of: in economics, 126; in human body, 126. See also Bal- ance of power Erasmus, 309 Ethics, concept, 170; as restraint on strug- gle for power, 170 ff. See also Morality, Rules of conduct Ethiopia, competition for domination, 135, 136. See also Italo-Ethiopian War, topi- cal headings Europe, United, and balance of power, 275, 278; opposition of Soviet Union, 134. See (dso topical headings Evatt, Herbert V., 486 Ewing, Alfred C., 487 Expeffiency: and morality in international ^airs, 174 ff. Fairgrieve, James, 478; on geopolitics, 118; on modern technology, 302, 303 Federalist, The: on balance of power, 127 ff.; on international conflicts, 440; on sovereignty, 261 Index F^elon, on balance of power, i6o, i6i, 285, 286, 438; and international moral- ity, 195; on total war, 288 Ferrero, Guglielmo, 21 476, 482, 484 Fichte, Johann Gottlob, on nationalism, 1 18, 1 19 Fifth colximn, and imperialism, 41. See also Communist International, Com- munists, National Socialism Finer, Herman, 488 Finkelstein, Louis, 475 Finland, see Russo-Finnish War (1939), topical headings Fischer, Eric, 484 Foch, Ferdinand, on limited and total war, 288, 289 Foner, Philip S., 33« Food and Agriculture Organization, 412; majority rule, 257 Force, as instrument pf foreign policy, 443. See also Diplomacy, Foreign policy. Military policy. Power, War Foreign policy, as estimate of power re- lations, 56, 152 ff.; and military policy, 55. See also Diplomacy, International politics Foster, John W., 488 Four Freedoms, 97 Fourteen Points of Woodrow Wilson; and open diplomacy, 427; and world public opinion, 202, 203 Fox, Willi^ T. R., 484 France: and balance of power, 144, 274 flf.; policy of “divide and rule” toward Ger- many, 134; failure of policies between World Wars, 376, 377; hegemony after First World War, 35, 134, 371 ff.; policy in Italo-Ethiopian War, 336, 377; and League of Nations, 370 JSf.; policies after First World War, 3170., 323; Rhine Frontier as c 4 >jective, 14, 82. See also topical headings Francis I of France, and balance of power, 138, 144. 145 Francis II of Austria, 186 Franco-Prussian War (1870), 45, 177,442; and in^)^ialian^ 31; and tech^pgy, 301, 302 Franklin, Benjamin, diplomacy 107 Frederick the Grca^ 7$, 147, i5j, 1%; contempt fear artill^ 294; and localized imperi^m, 37, and m^eMries, 290; his military genius as ^em^t of national power, 90; on uncertainty of balance of power, 15a, 153 Free trade, as alternative to war, i 5 , 34 Freeman, Harrop A*, 486, 488 French Revolution d 17^ and national- ism, 189, 310 Friedensburg, Ferdinand, 479; on natural resources, 84^ Friedman, W., 478 Friedrich, Carl J,, 480, 486, 488 Fuller, J. F. C., yn Furness, J. W., 479 Gaulle, Charles de, on balance of power, 274, 275 General Act for the Pacific Setdement of International Disputes (1928), 216 Geneva Convention on prisoners of war, 179 Geneva Naval Conference (1927), 314 Genoa, competition with Venice, 52 Genocide, see Mass extermination Geography, as element of national power, 8ofiF., 109 ff., 15 1 ; and geopolitics, iioff.; Great Britain, 80, 81; Italy, 81; Soviet Union, 81, 82, 109, no; Spain, 81; United States, 19, 80, 109 Geopolitics, ii6ff. George V of England, 141 Germany: Bismarck, William II, and Hit- ler representing difierent types of im- perialism, 37, 176; competition for its domination ^tcr Second World War, 130; moral significance of German prob- lem, 176, 177; policies: 1870-1914: 45, 46, on eve of First World War, 156, 282, 442, after First World War, 35, 36, 142, 317 ff, 323, 329; poliqr to- ward, after First World War, 177, 371; traditional French policy toward, 135; provisional status ^ter Second World War, 384; foreign policy determined by lack of self-suflEdency in food, 82, 83; unification, 270, 289. See also National Socialism and topical headings Gerth, H. H., 475 Gibbon, Edward, on balance of power, r6o, 163, 195; on ideologies of imperial- ism, 64, 65; on univcrsalistic principles of morality, 195?? Gilbert; Felix, ^ Gini, Corrado, 479 Goetixe, Johann Wolfgang, 76 Gooch, G. P., 478; on nationalism, 189 Good Neighbor Policy, 57, 58, See also ' United States Goc^ich^ Leland M., 19772, 37972, 486 Gbvernmoat; influence of its quality on li^tioml power, 104, 152, 175, 176 Gr%^t, A. J^ 480 Cardinal de, 144^ John Chipman, on literature of in- '^l^a^^l law, X74 , Qr^t v S®; and Great Britain (conUnued) 367, 371, 372, 376; decline in power, 273, 274; and disarmament^ 311, 315 ff., 329; fcdliire of policies between World Wars, 376, 377; policy toward Greece, 386; policy in Italo-Ethiopian War, 336, 337; and League of Nations, 370 If.; and Palestine, 356 ff.; policies before First World War, 141, 142, 153, 154, 156, 335; policies toward Germany before Second World War, 316, 317; policies after Second World War, 107; retreat from Asia, 22/2, 31, 107; policies toward Russia in nineteenth century, 444; poli- cies determined by lack of self-suffi- ciency in food, 82, 83; sovereignty of dominions, 252«; sources of power, 14; objectives of trade policies, 48; policy toward Turkey, 385. See dso British Empire, topical heaffings Greece: dvil war, 386; importance in First World War, 272; point of friction be- tween United States and Soviet Union, 385, 386. See also major powers and topical headings Grey, Sir Edward (British Foreign Sec- retary), 154/2, 162; and the Concert of Europe, 368 Griswold, A. Whitney, 485 Gross, Leo, 476 Grotius, Hugo, 309; on diplomacy, 424; and early international law, 210; on war against noncombatants, 178, 179 Guaranty, treaties of: and bdance of power, 231; and enforcement of inter- national law, 230 ff. Gucrard, Albert, 487 Guicciardini, on balance of power, 138 Gulick, Edward V., 480 Gurian, Waldemar, 474 Gyorgy, Andrew, 479 Hague Conventions on rules of war, 178, 179. See also Convention Ha^e Peace Conferences (1899, 1907), 180, 309; and disarmament, 312, 317. also topical headings I^upbro, Edvard, 379«, 486 , H^^lt^, Akisandert on kilance of power in American government, 129; on sov- ereignty, 261 Hamlet, on prestige, 346 ^ Handman, Max, 476 Hankey, Lord Maurice P., ’4S6 Hardenberg, Count von (l^uSssian states- man), 185 . ^ Harley, John E., 474, 486 Hart, Albert Bushnell, 427/2 Hart, B. H. Liddell, 484 Index Hart, Hornell, on modern technology, 303 Hartshorne, Richard, 479 Hashagen, Justus, 476 Haushofer, Karl, on geopolitics, 118 Havana, Treaty of, between United States and Cuba (1901), 251, 252 Hayes, Carleton J., 478 Heatley, David P., 474, 488 Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich, 96; on nationalism, 118, 119 Hemleben, Sylvester J., 485 Henry II of France, on balance of power, 114 Henry VIII of England, 5, 107; and bal- ance of power, 138, 144 Hertz, Frederick, 478 Hilferding, Rudolf, on imperialism, 29 Hill, Chesney, 474 Hirohito, and imperialistic war, 156 Hirschman, Albert O., 479 Hitler, Adolf, 5, 6, 96, 100, loi, 107, 156, 157, 271; depreciation of American power, 59; and Austrian independence, 148; and German power, 107, 108; and imperialism, 32, 36, 37, 42, 47, 67, 68, 81; and mass extermination, 176, 177; and national morale of conquered peo- ples, 102, 103; plot against (1944), 300/2. See also National Socialism Hobbes, Thomas: on compulsory adjudi- cation, 221; conception of politics, 169; and sovereignty, 261; on contribution of state to peace, 391, 397; on unKmited desire for power, 3622 Hobson, John A., 476; on imperialism, 30 Hodges, Charles, 473, 474 Hoijer, Olaf, 480 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, on sovereignty, 250/2 Holy Alliance, 361 ff.; ambassadorial con- ferences, 363; and Austria, 3645.; and balance of power, 161, 162, 165; British conception of status quo, 364 ff.; and France, 362, 364, 365; as government by the great powers, 363; and Greek revolt against Turkey (1821), 365, 366; ideo- logical function, 64, 362, 365, 366; and imperialism, 157; and intervention, 362 ff.; conception of justice, 362, 363> 3^; legal basis, 361, 362; and liberalism, 366, 367; and moral unity of Europe, 362; and the national interest, 364 ff,; and nationalism, 366, 367; and nationalistic universalism, 193, 194; and peace, 309, 365 ff.; principles. 161, 162, 189, 361 ff.; Russian concep- tion of status quo, 3645.; and small powers, 363; and the status quo, 23, (™) Index Holy Alliance {continued) 363, 364, 366; Treaty of the (September 26, 1815), 361 £E. Holy Roman Empire, and unity of the World, 309 Hovde, Brynjolf J., 476 Huber, Max, 482 Huizinga, J, H., 481 Hula, Erich, 478; on Nuremberg trials, 2i8;z Hull, Cordell, 16; moral condemnation of air bombardment of civilians, 182; on world public opinion, 197 Hume, David, 480 Huszar, George B. de, 488 Huxley, Julian, 488 Hyde, Charles C., 213 Ideologies, in foreign affairs, 49, I57ff.> 174, 180, 262, 263, 318, 343 378; 11a- ture of political, 61 ff., 169, 261 ff., 344 ff. See also Balance of power, Holy Alli- ance, Imperialism, International law. League of Nations, National self-deter- mination, Peace, Power, Regional ar- rangements, Sovereignty, Status quo. United Nations Imagination, creative needed in interna- tional affairs, 116 Immigration: influence upon distribution of power, 92; as stumbling-block to world state, 402 Imperialism, 22/2, 130 ff., 156 ff., 320, 321, 339, 342 ff.; advantage over policy of status quo, 156, 157; American, 28, 29, 37 » 39; Arab, 32, 36, 65; British, 22», 27 ff., 39; as colonial expansion, 2622, 29, 31, 36, 65; continental, 36, 37; cultural, 38, 40 ff., 47, 48; difficulties of detection, 46 ff., 66 ff., 420; economic, 38 ff., 47, 48; economic theories of, 29 ff.; French, 39, 42; German, 35 > 3^, 39 > 4 h 44 . 45. 47. 57. 66, 67, 157; ideological, 4022; not identical with any increase in power, 27; ideologies of, 49, 635., 318; Japa- nese, 39, 65, 66, 157; localized, 36 ff., Macedonian, 48, 41 1; methods, 38 ff,; military, 38, 39, 42; moral restraints upon, 38; polemic use of term, 26, 27, 6d, 66, 67; not identical with prcsc^a- tion of empire, 27; as reaction to lost war, 35, 36, 318, 319; retreat of, 31; Roman, 28, 31, 35, 3^ 39; Russian, 37, 39ff.y 65; and stimulation of population growth, 92; Swedish, 48; totalitarian methods of, 41, 42; types, 34 ff-, 48, 49; unlimited, 36; growing horn victcay in war, 34, 35, 157; weakness as induce- ment to, 3<^ ^ (TOi) Independence, as synonym of sovereignty, 245, 246 India: and balance of power, 273; and British imperialism, 42; British retreat from, 107; political weakness due to lack of industrial capacity, 87 Industrial capacity, as element of national power, 86 ff., 109, no, 181, 182; France, 87, 88; Germany, 87, 88, 109; Great Britain, 87; India, 87; Soviet Union, 88; United States, 88, 109 Industrial Revolution, see Technology International Bank for Reconstruction and Development, and unequal representa- tion, 257, 412 International Civil Aviation Organization, 412; and majority rule, 257 International conflicts: general nature, 435, 436; types, 343 ff.; UNESCO’S concep- tion, 410, 41 1 . See also International courts, Political disputes. Tensions International Court of Justice, 211, 216, 224 ff.; contribution to international law, 226; and interpretation of interna- tional law, 21722; optional clause, 221 ff.; Stamte: Article 3: 225, 226, Articles 4-6, 8-12, 19, 31: 226, Article 36: 221 ff., Ar- ticle 59: 226, 227. See also International courts, Permanent Court of International Justice International courts, 2191!.; absence of hierarchical organization, 227, 228; con- cept of adjudication, 22022; Austro-Ger- man Customs Union Case, 224; and so- cial change, 350; compliance with de- cisions, 230; compromis, 221; compul- sory jurisdiction: 220 ff,, accepted only between nations vdthout political con- flicts, 347; and defense of status quo, 318, 3- 378; successor to Holy Al lian ce, 3^, 368; principles trans- formed into ideologies, 378; and Italian occupation Corfii (1923), 374; and Italo-Ethiopian War (1935-36I, 370^ 374; and Japanese invasion ol < 3 iina (i 93 i» i 937 )> 374 > 37 ^^ imndpks of justice 371, 372, 377, 378; l^^aHsm in settling internatianal ismes, 4361 jority vote, 355, 356; and mandated te- ritories, 373; and the natit^ial 370 S,, 377, 378; organization, 3^ and peace, 16, 309, 341, 374 ^ pMce treaties of 1919, 371; and P^)^ seizure of Vilna (1920), 374; as gov^n- League of Nations (continued) ment of Saar Basin, 373; and Soviet Union, 374 436; and Spanish Civil War, 370, 374, 378; and the status quo, 23, 64, 371 fi., 378; predominantly Euro- pean structure, 375; principle of una- nimity, 355, 3^, 378; predicated upon unity of great powers, 378; lack of uni- versality, 375 If.; and the partition of Upper Silesia, 377; veto, 378; and war, 1^, 374; weaknesses, 373; and world public opinion, 197 L^gue of Nations Assembly, 235, 236, 355. 356, 3^. 370, 379i influence of small nations, 370 League of Nations Council, 234, 235, 369, 379; as organ of status quo, 347 League of Nations Covenant, 21 1, 216, 217, 219; preamble, 371, 374; Article 3: Syon; Article 8: 312; Article 10: 23, 371; Article II : 371; Article 12: 233, 234, 371, 374; Article 13: 233, 234, 371, 374; Article 14: 347, 371; Article 15: 233, 234, 247, 248, 369, 3707?, 371, 374, 380; Ar- ticle 16: 23211., 238, 371; Article 17: 375; Article 19: 354£f»> 37^1 Article 22: 373« Lee, Muna, 488 Legitimacy, principle of, 161. See also Holy AlHance Leith, C. K., 479 Lenin, on imperialism, 29, 30 Leopold I and II of Belgium, 106 Lewis, Cleona, 479 Lewis, Edward R., 487 Liberalism: and imperialism, 29, 30; and peace, 310; conception of stat^ 395. See dso Holy Alliance, Power Lindsay, A. V., 481 Lippmann, Walter, 482, 484, 489; on world public opinion, 202, 203 Lloyd, Georgia, 485 Locarno Pact (1925), 23, 24, 231, 372 Locke, John, ^ 170 London Naval Conference and Treaty (1930), 314, 325 ILondon Naval Conference (1935-36), 314 London Protocol concerning submarine warfare (1936), 179 Long, Huey, on fasdsm in United States, U Louis XIV a£ France: and balance of 13^ 144^ 145, 151, 376; and con- ^ ■ impaSafem, ^, 3^ 157 XV of Fran^ 180, 187; and local- tod toperiaKsm,. 37 ; . » Luxembourg, neutrality guaranteed, 231 Luxemburg, Rosa, on imperialism, 30^ Mably, Abbe de, 489 Macedonian Empire, geographical limits, 298. See also Imperialism, World empire Machiavelli: conception of politics, 169; on limited war, 287, 288; on revolution in warfare, 89 Machine gun, revolution in warfare, 296, 297 Maciver, R. M., 475 Mackinder, Sir Halford J., 479; on geo- politics, McCallum, R. B., 487 McMurry, Ruth E., 488 Madariaga, Salvador, 479 Madison, James, on balance of power in American government, 129; diplomacy of, 107; on sovereignty, 260, 261 Mahan, Alfred Thayer, and militarism, 120 Majority vote, irrelevant in political issues, 356. See also International organization. League of Nations, United Nations Mander, Linden A., 474 Mannheim, Karl, 475, 477; on concept of ideology, 6i« Marck, Siegfried, 476 Maria Theresa, and localized imperialism, 37 Marriott, J. A. R., 485, 487 Marshall plan, 10 1 Martin, Charles E., on science of inter- national politics, 3 Martin, William, 487 Marx, Karl, 16 Marxism: and imperialism, 29; and na- tionalistic universalism, 194; conception of state, 395 Mass extermination, as moral problem of international politics, 176, 177 Matter n, Johannes, 479, 483 Maxwell, Bertram W., 474 Mazarin, and French power, 107 Merriam, Charles E., 475, 483; on sover- dgnty, 26 i« M^ttemich^ Prince, 525 on diplomacy, 426; and the Holy Alliance, 366 Mexican War (1846-48), 7, 8 Mcjrer, Cord, 487 ^ ‘ Middlebush, FrederidI: AI, ! 474 Militarism, as mistaken evaluate of na- tional power, 120 ff,; in Gertnany, 120, 12 1 ; in Great Britain, 120; in Japan, 121; in Soviet Union, 120; in Sparta, 121; in United States, 120; used as re- proach by naval powers, 120 Military establishment, quantitative and Index Military establishment (continued) qualitative composition as element of national power, 90, 91, no Military force, display of, and policy of prestige, 54, 55 Military leadership, as element of national power, 90 Military policy, relation to fo/eign policy, 55. See also Diplomacy, Force, Power, War Military power, fascination of, 115, 116 Military preparedness, as element of na- tional power, 88 if. Mill, John Stuart: on balance of power in domestic politics, 12872, 163; on creation of governments, 399, 400 Millar, Moorhouse, F. X., on Nuremburg trials, 21872 Mills, C. Wright, 475 Minorities Treaties, 216, 248 Mitrany, David, 485, 488; on functional approach to world community, 413 Mobilization, as policy of prestige, 53 Money, as instrument and symbol of power, 173 Monroe Doctrine, 5, 6, 24, 25, 37, 108; and balance of power, 139, 140; Roose- velt Corollary to, 8 Moon, Parker T., 474, 476; on imperial- ism, 2672 Moore, John Bassett, 482 Moral consensus, see Balance of power. Diplomacy, Holy Alliance, International courts. Morality, World state. World community Moral limitations on international politics, concerning human life in peace, 175 If., human life in war, 178 ff.; through financial interests, 184, 185 Morality in international ^airs, i6iff., 169 ff., 1745.*, of aristocracy, 184^.; de- cline in our time, i8iff., 187 fF,, 267 ff., 333» 354; misconceptions, 174, 175; of nationalism, 170 £E., 267; its reality, 174, 175 Mores, concept, 170; as restraint on strug- gle for power, 170 fF., 267. See also Rules of conduct Morgan, Laura P., 485 Morgarten, battle of (1315), 89 Morgenthau, Hans J., 3372, 475, 481, 482, 486, 487 Morlcy, Felix, 487 Mcarlcy, John ^Viscount, 1672, 188, 489 Moscow Conference (1943), 16 Moscow, Foreign Ministers* Conference at (1947), 159 Motivation in international politics, 2272 Mowat, R. B^ 474 Index Mowrcr, Paul S., 489 Mumford, Lewis, 484 Murphy, Gardner, 488 Mussolini, 176; and imperialism, 37, 68; concept of politics, 170; and policy of prestige, 56 Napoleon I, 5, 6, 51, 52, 90, 259, 2^; on valu^ of artillery, 294; and imperialism, 32, 36, 39, 42, 48, 65, 81, 157; and bal- ance of power, 134; and national morale of conquered peoples, 102; and nation- alistic universalism, 193, 194; and unity of the world, 309 Napoleon III, and balance of power, 134; and continental imperialism, 37; diplo- macy on eve of Franco-German War of 1870, 442; and disarmament, 31 1, 312 Napoleonic Empire, causes of downfall, 299, 300, 403; geographical limits, 298 Napoleonic Wars, and balance of power, 138, 158, 161, 162, 164, i^, 270, 310, 364, 376; and modern nationalism, 76, 77, 289; and problem of peace, 310; and total war, 289, 291 Nation, concept, 73, 74, 118 National character, as element of national power, 96tiF., 120, 152; and nationalism, liSff.; and racism, 119, 120; France, 96, loi; Germany, 96, 98 ff., 409; Great Britain, g6, 98 ff., no; Russia, 97flF.; United States, 97 ff., 120 National interest, as national security, 440. S^e also Diplomacy, Holy Alliance, In- ternational law. League of Nations, Peace, United Nations National morale, as element of national power, 100 ff., 152; and foreign con- quest, 102, 403; dependence upon qual- ity of government, 104; influence upon foreign policy, 104; influence of internal dissensions and injustices upon, 102 of France in First World Wax, loi, in Second World War, 103, 104; of Ger- many in two World Wars, 10 iff.; of Italy in First World War, loi; in Latin- Anierican countries, 104; of Pcwtugal, 104; of Russia in First World War, loi, 102; of Soviet Uitiw in Second World War, 102, 103; of Spain, 104; of United States, loi National power, 74 ff., 80 ff.; consumma- tion in self-restraint, 121, 122; equated with material force, 121; instability, ii4ff.; relativity, 110&; of Gcrinanyj^ in; of Great Mtain: rii, from Napo- leonic Wars to First World War, 113, 1 14, decline aft^ First World War, 11:4, reasons for its permanence, 121. ( 3di ) National power (continued) also different elements, such as Geog- raphy, Natural resources. Territory, etc. National power, evaluation of, 56, 109 ff., 420, 423, 424; errors in: of Germany, 99, 100, 1 15, of France, ii2ff., of Great Britain, 100, of Soviet Union, 99, 114, 115, of United States, 100; typical errors in, ii2ff.; of France and Germany be- tween two World Wars, 112, 113; as se- ries of hunches, iii, 112, 151, 152, 322 ff.; need for creative imagination, 116; of United States and Soviet Union, no, in National self-determination, 165, 268, 368, 371, 372, 377, 378, 383; as ideology, 67, 191 National Socialism, fifth column, 41; and geopolitics, 1 1 8; ideologies, 65; inter- national objectives, 13, 35, 36, 47; as prototype of pseudo-religious national- ism, 77, 78; nationalistic universalism, 194. See also Hitler, Mass extermination. Totalitarianism Nationalism, 74 ff., n8ff., 262, 267 393, 394, 414; two kinds of conflicts growing from, 269; and conscription, 291, 292; destructive influence on inter- national morality, 1891!.; and French Revolution, 189, 310; and mass inse- curity, 76 ff.; and middle classes, 75 ff.; as mistaken evaluation of national power, 118 ff.; morality of, 190 ff., 267 ff., 305? 393> 394? 414; religion identified with, 190, 191; as secular religion, 77, 1 19, 268, 305, 396, 438 ff.; and total war, 289; in Germany, 77 ff., 118, 119; in Soviet Union, 78, 79; in United States, 79. See also Morality, Nationalistic uni- versalism Nationalistic universalism, 1^2 S., 267 ff., 430, 438 ff.; distinct from traditional na- tionalism, 193, 194, 268, 269, 292; and total war, 289; and tribalism, 195, 196. See also Morality, Nationalism Natural law, as ideology of imperialism. Natural resources, as element of national power, 83 ff. See also Coal, Oil, and major powers Naf, Werner, 487 Nag, Kalidas, 480 Near East, political decline and decline of agriculture, 83; political importance de- rived from oil, 84, 86 Nearing Scott, 476 288n; on total war, 305W >ieoHoly Alliance (1820), 362ff.; princi- ples, 362, 364 ff.; and the status quo, ^4. See dsQ Holy Alliance Index Nickerson, Hoffman, 484 Nicolson, Harold, 477, 487, 489 Niebuhr, Reinhold, 481, 487 Nietzsche, Friedrich, concept of politics, 170 Nine Power Treaty (1922), 23, 236 Noel-Baker, Philip, 16 North, Lord, his influence on British power, 106 North Africa, political decline and decline of agriculture, 83 Notestein, F, W., 479 Nuremberg trials, 218 Nye Committee, on origins of First World War, 30 Nys, Ernest, 480, 487 Ogburn, William F., 484 Ogg, F. A., 32/2 Oil, as element of national power, 84, 86 Oil diplomacy, as imperialism, 39, 86 Oman, Sir Charles, 484; on limited war- fare, 28722 Onckcn, Hermann, 489 ‘‘One World,” ambiguity of conc^t^ 200 ff. Open Door, policy toward China, 387. See also China, United States Oppenheim-Lauterpacht, 21322, 21422; on treaties of guaranty, 231; on numb^ of decisions of Permanent Court of Inter- national Justice, 34722; on sanctions in Italo-Ethiopian War, 236 Oppenheim, L., 487 Orwell, George, on Burnham, 11522 Padovcr, S. K., 481 Paleologue, Maurice (French diplomatist), 106 Palestine, see Peaceful change. United States Palmerston, Viscount, 115; his foreign policy, 367 Paris, Convention of (April 23, 1814), and balance of power, 138; declaration of, concerning maritime warfare (1856), J79; Treaty of (1815), 23; Treaty of (1856), 231 Parsons, Elsie 475 Parsons, Talcott, 4^ Paullin, Theodore, 485, 486, 488 Pavia, ^ttle of (1525), example of limited warfare, 290 Peace, and the common good, 361; not result of specific device, 361; as ideology, 63, 64; indivisibility, 335; and justice, 361, 392, 394, 395; conditions fer, in na- tional societies, 392 ff.; and peaceful change, 395; and power, 392, 395 ff.; Peace {continued) dependent on pluralism of loyalties, 392, 393; problem of, attempts at its solu- tion, 309, 310, 443, 444; dependent on integrated society, 361; dependent on suprasectional loyalties, 392 ff.; contri- bution of state to, 391, 396 S.; and world state, 391 Peaceful change, 64, 350 ff., 395, 396; not achieved by any particular agency, 351; and American Civil War, 396; mistaken analogy between national and interna- tional, 353, 354; conditions for, 350 ff.; and the courts, 350 ff.; in dictatorships, 352; dilemma in international society, 355^ 35 ^> 358? 360; and domestic peace, 395; and the executive power, 350 ff.; in free societies, 350 ff.; in Great Britain, 350, 396; in League of Nations, 354 fr.; and the legislature, 350 fE.; and the na- tional interest, 355, 356, 358 ff.; in na- tional societies, 64, 350 ff.; and Pales- tine resolution of General Assembly of the United Nations, 356 ff.; through public opinion, 350 ff.; and the power of the state, 351; in United Nations, 354, 356 ff., 396; and the United Na- tions Security Council, 434; in United States, 350 ff. Pearl Harbor, and lack of American pres- tige, 59 Peel, Sir Robert, 297 Pelcovits, N. A., 488 Penn, William, 309 Permanent Court of Arbitration, 225; non- political character of decisions, 347. See also International courts Permanent Court of International Justice, 211, 216, 221, 222, 224 ff.; on jurisdic- tion of international courts, 220; non- political character of functions, 347, 348; as organ of status quo, 347, 348; on unanimity, 369; and world public opinion, 197. See also International Court of Justice, International courts Peter the Great, and localized imperial- ism, 37 Petrie, Sir Charles, 481 Philippines, sovereignty, 25222 Phillimore, Sir Robert, 480 Phillips, Walter A., 487 Phillipsson, Coleman, 2222 Pitt, William, 7 Pluralism of loyalties, and peace, 392, 393 Poison gas, compliance vdth prohibition in Second World War, 329 Poland, partitions of, and balance of power, 135, 146, 147, 150, 165 Political disputes, as status quo vs. change, ( xiii ) Index Political disputes {continued) 342 ff.; different types, 344 fiF- See also International conflicts, Tension Politis, Nicolas, 481 Population, age istribution as element of national power, 94; quantity of, as element of national power, 91 ff., 135, 152, 175 ff.; of Argentina, 94; Australia, 92; British Empire, 93; Canada, 92; France, 92 ff.; Germany, 92 fl.; Great Britain, 93, 94; Latin America, 94, 115; Soviet Union, 92 ff.; United States, 92 fl. Population pressure, as justification for imperialism, 66 Population trends, and future distribution of power, 93, 94, no Portugal, and balance of power, 273; and British imperialism, 39; national morale, 104 Possony, Stefan T., 475, 485 Podemlane, Vladimir, 481 Potsdam, Agreement, 344, 345, 384; Con- ference, ^ Potter, Pitman B., 487 Pound, Roscoe, on international morality, 189 Power, political: American depreciation of, 19, 20; and authority, 14^, concept, 73; depreciation of, 15 ff., 38, 125, 426; depreciation of, as ideology, 66«; desire for, potentially unlimited, 36/2, 155; and force, 13, 14; frustration and compensa- tion of individual drives for, 74 ff.; moral condemnation of, 62, 169, 170; as social pressure, 396; struggle for, 17, 18, 21. See also Balance of power. In- ternational politics, Military force. Na- tional power Power politics, see Power, political Preparatory Commission for a Disarma- ment Conference (1925), 312, 321 Prestige, in diplomatic negotiations, 432; nature of social, 50, 51, 56; as means and end of policy, 50, 550, Prestig^ policy o 4 50 ff., 68, 346; and meeting pla^ for conferences, 53, 54; neglect by Soviet Union and United States, 60; of Soviet Union, 53 Preventive War, 15^ 156, iSi Pribram, Karl, 480 Prisoners War, tt^tmen^ 179 Private intarnational law, 215 Proudhon, cm free trade as alternative 10 war, 16, 34 Prussia, foreign policy, 278, 279. See dso topi(^ headings Public opinion, and national moral^,|oo, 10 1 ; and nationalism, 2pi ff.; md ful change, 350 ff, ' ; (riv ) Quadruple Alliance (November 20, 1815), 361 ff. Racism, as mistaken evaluation of na- tional power, ii8ff. Radcliff e-Brown, A. R., 2ii« Rappard, William E., 488; on Switzerland as model for world state, 405 Ratzel, Friedrich, 479 Rauschning, Hermann, 59/2 Raw materials, as element of national power, 83 ff.; importance since indus- trial revolution, 84; of Great Britain, 84; Soviet Union, 84, 86; United States, 84, 86 Ray, Jean, 487; on interpretation of Cove- nant of the League of Nations, 217; on war under the Covenant, 374 Real de Curban, Gaspar de, 480 Redlich, Marcellus D., 489 Regional arrangements, as ideology, 64 Reichstag of Ratisbone (1803), 270 Reinsch, Paul S., 489 Reinsurance Treaty between Germany and Russia (1887), 45, 46 Religious Wars, and nationalistic univer- saUsm, 193 ff., 288, 291, 439, 44a Reves, Emery, 488 Revolution, popular: fear of, 21; obsoles- cent through modern technology, 299 ff., 353, 398. See cdso Coups d’etat Richelieu, and balance of power, 134; and French power, 107 Riches, Cromwell A., 483 Rider, Fremont, 488 Robbins, Lionel, 1372, 476 Roberts, P. E., on Anglo-Russian imperi- alism concerning Iran, 39, 40 Roman Empire, geographic^ limits, 298; based: on prestige, 57, on self-restraint, 121; reasons for success, 298, 403; as symbol of unity of the world, 309 Roman policy toward Carthage, moral significance 0^ 177 Rommen, Hans, 475 Roosevelt, Franklin D., 24, 2522, 62, 128, 176; speech of December 2, 1939, against Russian air bombardment of Finnish ci- vilians, 182; as statesman, 108, 429 Roosevelt, Tlwodore, 52, 121 Roucek, Joseph S., 473 Rousseau, Jcan-Jacques, 309; on balance o£ powex, 161; and international moral- ity, m Rovigev Duke 51 . balance of pow^^ 138 o| con , Rumania, and French imperialism, 39 Rush-Bagot Agreement (1817), 31 1, 313, 315 Russell, Bertrand, 475 Russell, Frank M., 474 Russell, John (British statesman), on bal- ance of power, 162; on unpredictability of foreign policy, 115 Russia: geographical factors as sources of conflict with the West, 82; and Great Britain in nineteenth century, 271, 444; policy toward Turkey, 365, 366; policy on eve of First World War, 141, 142, 153, 156, 282; security belt and balance of power, 133. See also Soviet Union, topical headings Russo-Finnish War (1939-40), and air bombardment of civilians, 182; and de- cline of Russian prestige, 60 Russo-Japanese War (1904-05), 279; eco- nomic objectives, 31 Russo-Turkish War (1877), 279 Saint-Pierre, Abb6 de, 309 Sanctions, importance for rules of con- duct, 171, 172. See also Collective se- curity, International law, International police force Saxe, Marshal of, on limited warfare, 288 Schenk, H. G., 487 Schindler, Dietrich, 482, 486 Schmitt, Bernadotte E., 481 Schultz, Theodore W,, 484 Schuman, Frederick L., 474 Schumpeter, Joseph, 476, 477; on economic factor in imperialism, 32«; on Marxian theories of imperialism, 34 Schwarzenberger, Georg, 474, 482, 483; on codification of international law, 216 Scott, James Brown, 312;? Security, and disarmament^ 317^.; French policy aftar First World War, 318, 319, 323, 332. also Collective security. International police force Self-sufBciency in food, as element of na- ticmal power, 82, 83 Seton-Watson, Robert W,, ii5«, 481 SevoEi Years’ War (17^1^63), 158 StefV M^Go|n% > r Step, Walter R., 474, ’ Shils, Edward A^ 4% ^ P ; Silberner, Edward, 475 , ^ Simonds, Frank 47% ; Small nations, defense as ideology, 64; and enforcement of intmiational law, 229; and international courts, 225; their protection dependent on balance of power, 229; in United Nations, 241 Smith, Charles W., 482 Index Smith, J. Allen, on balance of power, 127^2 Socialism, illusion of international soli- darity, 190 Society, as a system of rules of conduct, 172. See also Peaceful change, World community. World state Sontag, Raymond J., 481 Sorel, Albert, on Austrian balance of power, 147 Souleyman, Elizabeth V., 485 Sovereignty, 243 fi.; and Atomic Develop- ment Authority, 253 fT., 258; concept, 209, 210, 243, 244, 249, 259; of Cuba under Platt Amendment, 251, 252; ob- scured by democratic constimtions, 260, 261; divisibility of, as ideology, 261 ff.; and actual equality, 248; exercise of, political fact^ 243, 250, 252, 259 flF., 413; in federal states, 261; in Great Britain, 261/2; history, 209, 210, 243, 244; and immigration, 248; as “impenetrability,” 245, 249, 253; and actual independence, 248; of Indian States, 250, 251; indivisi- bility, 250, 258 flF.; and actual interde- pendence, 248; and international courts, 256; and decentralized character of in- ternational law, 2425.; alleged incom- patibility with international law, 244; protected by international law, 258, 267, 268; and American membership in League of Nations, 247, 256; location of, a matter of political judgment;, 250, 252; loss of, 249 flF.; and majority rule, 256 £F.; and nationalism, 262, 263, 267 ff.; and international peace, 262; compatible vstith onerous peace treaties, 248; and American membership in Permanent Court of Justice, 247, 256; popular, 244; as quality of political control, 252, 257, 258; unaffected by quantity of legal re- straints, 247, 252, 257, 258; temporary suspense, 250; synonyms, 245 ff.; in Third French Republic, 259, zSin; as argument for treaty revision, 248; and unequal representation, 256, 257; of members of United Nations, 255, 256, 382; of permanent members of United Nations Security Council, 255, 256; in United States, 250, 2590,; and veto, 247 Soviet Union: policy toward China, 386, 387; and Communist International, 41; opposed to unification of Europe, 135; conception of foreign affairs, 429; and international law, 213, 215; policy to^ ward Iran, 386; and the League of Na- tions, 377, 378; prestige, 60; public opin- ion witii regard to United States, 205; as superpower, 271 ff., 284 ff.; policy ( XV ) Index Soviet Union {continued) toward Turkey, 385, 386; and UNESCO, 409; in United Nations Security Coun- 433> 435; United Nations spe- cialized agencies, 414; points of friction with United States, 385 ft. See also Com- munist Internationi, topical headings Spain: political decline and decline of ag- riculture, 83. See also topical headings Spanish-American War (1898), 9, 20; eco- nomic objectives, 31 Spaulding, O. L., 484 Speier, Hans, 484 Spencer, Herbert, source of biological ide- ologies of imperialism, 65 Spheres of influence, 39, 40, 135, 136 “Splendid isolation,” and balance of power, 143, 377 Sprout, Harold and Margaret, 474 Spykman, Nicholas, 476, 479, 480 Stdey, Eugene, 477, 479; forecast of range of airaaft, 297, 298; on myth of geo- graphic unity of Western hemisphere, iiBn Stalin, Joseph, 6, 53 Stanhope, Lord (English statesman), 184 Starke, J. G., 483 State, concept, 396; and law enforcement, 395 £f.; as leg^ pasonality of nation, 396; modern, ability of moral compul- sion, 192, 200, 201, 299, 301, 396; and peaceful change, 397. See also Peaceful change, Power, Revolution, Territorial state. World state State power, limits of its neutrality, 395, 396; and status quo, 395, 396; increas^ by modern technology, 299 flE, See also International police force. Power, Revo- lution, Technology, Totalitarianism, World state Status quo, policy of, 22 £f., 43 fF., 130 ff., 156 £F., 319 flE., 328, 332 ff., 342 fiE.; and change, 24, 25, 27, 43, 46, 47; ideolo- gies of, 63, 64, 158, 159, 318, 343; as defense of peace settlement, 22, 23, 142, 23L 31^3 319 332, 361 ff., 371 ff- Stefansson, Vilhjalmur, iiBn, i 6 ^n, 479 Steinar, H. Arthur, 474 Sternbig, Fritz, on imperialism, 3CW Stieglitz, Alexandre de, 480 Stratton, George M., 482 Straus2-Hup4 Robert;, 476, 477, 479, 484 Sturzo, Lu^^, 478 Subrnarine, influence upon distribution of power, 91, 328; strategic importance for Germany, 317 Sully, Due de (French statesman), 309 Sulzbach, Walter, 477, 478 ( xvi ) Sumner, William Graham, 4, 20, 28; on vices of diplomacy, 439, 443 Sutherland, Justice, on sovereignty, 259 Switzerland, economic policies, 48; as model for world stat^ 404, 405. See also Balance of power Tacitus, 96 Taft, William Howard, 53 Talleyrand, 185; and French power, 107 Tank, influence upon distribution of power, 89 Tannenbaum, Frank, 480 Tate, Merze, 485 Tawney, R. H., on balance of power, 163/2; on militarism, 120, i2in Technology, modern: and American Civil War, 301, 302; characteristics, 301 £E.; of war and international morality, 192; mechanization of warfare, 292, 294 fl., 299 fE.; moral impact, 304, 305; and national power, 89, 90; and obsolescence of popular revolution, 299 fiE.; of war, revolution in nineteenth and twentieth centuries, 294 fE., 438; and increase in state power, 299 fl.; and totalitarianism, 200, 201, 299 S.; potential unification and actual fragmentation of the world through, 200 S., 295 fiE., 299 fiE.; and feasibility of world empire, 2995. See also Atomic energy. Total war Teheran, Conference of, 69 Temperley, Harold, 480, 481, 487 Tension, concept 343, 344; in national so- cieties, 350 ff. See also International con- flicts, International courts, Peaceful change. Political disputes. World state Territorid state, concept, 209, 210, 243 Territory, as measure of national power, 151, 278 Thiers, Louis Adolphe (French states- man), and balance of power, 162 Thirty Years’ War, and balance of power, 139, 150, 270; and nationalistic univer- sdism, 195, 440 Thompson, J. W., 481 Thompson, Warren S., 479 TimashefiE, N. S., 481 Titulescu, Nicholas (Rumanian states- man), 106, 370 Tocqueville, Alexis de, 97 Toenber, Irene B., 479 Total war, general character, 287, 291 ff., 437; importance of dvilians, 181, 182; and conscription, 289 ff.; and destruc- tiveness of modem weapons, 296, 297; and international mcrality, i8iff.; and total mechanization, 301 ff.> moral force, 3(^; conditioned by a^icultural and Index Total war {continued) industrial productivity, 304. See cdso Technology, War, World War, First, and Second. Totalitarianism: and national morale, 103, 104; and modern technology, 200, 201, 299 See also National Socialism, Rev- olution, Soviet Union, World state Toynbee, Arnold J., 480; on balance of power, 279 Trajan, and imperialism, 28 Treaties, see International law Treaty of May 31, 1934, between United States and Cuba, 252 Trieste, status after Second World War, 384. 385 Triple Alliance among Germany, Austria, and Italy, 45, 46, 141, 405 Triple Entente between France, Russia, and Great Britain, 141 Troppau, Confess of (1820), 362 Truman Doctrine, 5, 6 Truman, Harry, 53 Turkey: American policy toward, loi, 130; and balance of power, 139, 141, 146; point of friction between United States and Soviet Union, 130, 385. See also Balance of power, major powers Unanimity, as synonym of sovereignty, 246, 247. See dso League of Nations, Permanent Court of International Jus- tice, Sovereignty, United Nations Unconditional surrender, moral signifi- cance, 182 UNESCO, 21 1, 407 fr.; and the nature of international conflicts, 410, 41 1; Article I of Constitution, 407, 408; different functions, 408; and p^ce, 408 ff.; phi- losophy, 408, 409 United Nations, 16, 194, 236 ff,, 379 ff.; as alliance against superpower, 381; Armed Force, 256, 320, 321, 337, 339, 340, problem of composition, 339; Atomic Energy Commission, 31 1, 313, 317, 319 ff,, 324; an(J collective security, 236 ff.; Comimssion iot Conventional Armaments, 313, 323^ 324; conunittees, 428; compared witit League of Nations, 379, 380, 382, 383; Ectxiomic and Social Council, 412; and majority rule, 257; and fragmentation of international is- sues, 436, 437; as government by great powers, 379 ff,; as government by, not over, United States and Soviet Union, 381, 387; as ideology, 67, 68; and indi- vidual welfare, 412; and international law, 383; and interpretation of int^na- tional law, zvjn; legalism in settling United Nations {continued^ international issues, 436, 437; Military Staff Committee, 339; organization, 379, 380; paralyzed by tension between United States and Soviet Union, 385 ff,; without political foundation, 383, 384; predicated upon unity of great powers, 381, 387; and peace, 309, 341; principles, 188; principles of justice, 382, 383; Pur- poses and Principles, 382, 383; Special- ized Agencies: 412 ff., and the national interest, 414; as instrument of status quo, 68; and the undefined status quo, 383 ff.; and government of Trieste, 384, 385; Trusteeship Council and majority rule, 257; and war, 180, 381, 387; and world public opinion, 197, 198 United Nations Charter, 21 1, 217, 219; Preamble, 382; Chapter I, 382; Chapter VI, 381, 383; Chapter VII, 236 ff., 381 ff.; Chapters IX and X, 412; Article 2: 246, 248, 382; Article 10: 379; Article ii: 312, 313, 379, 383; Article 12: 379; Article 13: 379; Article 14: 354 ff,, 360, 379; Article 18: 257, 356; Article 23: 257; Article 24: 383; Article 25: 237; Article 26: 313; Article 27: 238 ff., 254, 255, 256 ff., 381; Article 39: 237, 240, 241, 256, 357, 359; Article 41: 237, 241, 255, 256, 357; Article 42: 237, 238, 241, 256, 337; Article 43: 237, 238, 256, 320, 340; Article 45: 237; Article 51: 238, 239, 241; Article 58: 412; Article 63: 412; Article 64, 412; Article 66: 412 United Nations General Assembly, 226, 356 ff., 370, 379 impotence, 379, 380; and majority rule, 257; nature of rec- ommendations, 356 United Nations ^curity Council, 226, 237 ff,, 357 ff., 379 ff.; ascendancy over General Assembly, 379, 380; compared with Holy Alliance, 380 ff.; and inter- national police force, 339; and majority vote, 258; futility of majority vote, 433 ff.; conditions of its operation, 256; as enforcement agency for Atomic De- velopment Authority, 254, 255; and un- equal representation, 257; unanimity limited to permanent members, 379 ff.; predominant position of United States, 359. 435; veto, 239 £F., 254, 255, 257, 359, 381; veto as answer to majority vote, 435 United States: adherence to compulsory jurisdiction of International Court of Justice, 222, 223; anti-militarism, 99; proposals for international control of atomic energy, 252 ff.; policy toward China, 23, 386, 387; policy toward Cuba, 251, 252; economic policies, 15; policy ( xvii ) Index United States (continued) toward Greece, 386; policy toward Iran, 386 j isolation in nineteenth century, 19, 20; and the League of Nations, 383; and naval disarmament, 315 ff.; and the partition of Palestine, 358 ti.; and problem of international peace, 7, 8; continuity of policy, 5ff.; policy to- ward Latin America, 22zz, 37, 39, 54 5 policy favored by material conditions, 108; policy after Second World War, 69; discrepancy between acmal and po- tential power, 99; public opinion and foreign policy, loi; nature of conflict with Soviet Union, 319 ff., 324, 339, 340, 344 ff, 348, 354, 412, 430; points o£ friction with Soviet Union, 385 £F.; con- ditions for peace with Soviet Union, 41 1; public opinion with regard to Soviet Union, 205; relations wiA Soviet Union and international understanding, 411; as superpower, 271 ff., 284 ff.; treaty with Prussia concerning treatment of prison- ers of war (1785;, 179; as model for world state, 405, 406. See also Good Neighbor policy, Monroe Doctrine, Open Door, Truman Doctrine, topical headings United States vs. Curtiss Wright Export Corporation, on sovereignty, 259 Universal Postal Union, 21 1, 412, 414; and majority rule, 257; unequal representa- tion, 256 UNNRA, 414 Upper Silesia, partition, 356^ Uranium, as element of national power, 86 Urban II, Pope, and imperialism, 32 Utrecht, Treaty of (1713), and balance of power, 135, 139 Vagts, Alfred, 476, 484 VaBette, De la (French statesman), 165 Vattel, Emexic de, on balance of power, 161; on treaties of guaranty, 230 Venice, assassination as poHtici instru- mcni 175; bakpcc of power, 144; com- petition with Genoa^ 52 Verom, of (i^), 31^ ; : Versailles, Treaty o 4 6^ and cBsarma- men^ 312, 329; iirperialiTO, 35; and defense of status quo* 318 Vet*^ see At<^c Bevelppment i^thodty* Le^e of Naticms, Sovcrcigatyj United Nations Security Council Victoria, (^ecn, and certainty in Jq^^^gn affairs, 115 ‘ ■ Vicuna, Congress (£, 135, andr^- fication of internatiomd law, 214 ( xviii ) Vinackc, Harold M., 487 Viner, Jacob, 477, 484; on economic theo- ries of imperialism, 33 Virgin Islands, acquisition of, by United States, 25, 26 Voltaire, 96, 195 Walsh, Edmund A., 474 War, civilian losses, 293, 294; limited by climate, 299, 300; universal, result of collective security, 334 ff.; and commer- cial classes, 310; as competition of princes, 184; moral condemnation of, 180, 181; as contest between armed forces, 178 ff.; as contest between whole populations, 178, 292, 293; co-existent with cultural unity, 410; as instrument of foreign policy, 14, 15, 289; moral identification with, 289 ff.; doctrine of just, 289; limited, 287 ff.; limited, Brit- ish variety of, 291/2; localized, and col- lective security, 334 ff.; influence of mechanization upon, 292, 294 ff., 301 ff.; military losses, 293, 294; attributed to misunderstanding, 41 1; and non-com- batants, 178 ff., 292 ff.; political objective of, 15; b^ef in obsolescence, 310; uni- versal opposition to, determined by na- tionalism, 203 fl.; preventive, 99; anal- ogy with revolution, 352, 353; iMuence of size of armies upon, 292, 293, 301, 302. See also Holy Alliance, League of Nations, Military policy, Revolution, Technology, Total war. United Nations War, Civil, conditions for outbreak, 398, 401, 403. See also Revolution War of the First Coalition (1792-97), 185 War of the Spanish Succession, 135, 145 Washington’s Farewell Address, 5, 6, 19, 108, 139 Washington Treaty for the Limitation of Naval Armaments (1922), 137, 31 1, 313 ff., 325, 326 Webster, Charles K., 474, 481, 487 Wdgert^ Hans W., 11822, 16422, 479 Welles, Sumner, 484 Wellington, Duke of, on quality of armies In Napcfleonic Wars, 290 Weldon, T. D,, 481 West, j^yard, 481 West, R«>ecca, 478 Western civilization, restraining influence gsa struggle for power, i 6 oS^ l^ff. See dsQ MTESCO, 407 ff. World conquest see Imperialism, World empire, World state World Disarmament Conference (1932), 311, 312, 316 ff., 321 ff., 327 ff. WcmtM empire 36, 2985., 304, 305, 403, 404; , prevented by trance of power, 137^^ 150; cat^ downfall, 298, ^3; gcc^yapiucal ^^tnsion, 298; tech- nblo^ad conditibns, ^ff*, 304, 305; tcdmoiogical fea^yi|i^, 4^ff. See also individual empires, W^d state World Health Organization, 412, 414 World public opinion, 197 ff.; concept^ 198; and divergencies in moral and po- litical judgments and aspirations, 199, 200; ineffectiveness in period between World Wars, 198; misconceptions, 198, 199, 206; and international morality, Index World public opinion {continued') 1985., 205, 206; and Italo-Ethiopian War, 204; and responsibility for Second World War, 204, 205; and technologi- cal unification, 200 ff.; and psychologi- cal unity of mankind, 199; and nation- alistic universalism, 206, 267; and war, 203 ff.; and Wilsons Fourteen Points, 202, 203 World state, 391 ff.; problem of its crea- tion, 399 ff.; its creation a political prob- lem, 419; test for its feasibility, 400 ff.; and immigration, 402; and international police force, 340; and interstate trade, 402; moral problem, 400, 401; and the national interest, 400 ff.; and national- ism, 400 ff.; and parliamentary institu- tions, 401; and peace, 341, 391; and problem of representation, 401; and totalitarianism, 404; and world commu- nity, 400, 402, 405 ff.; through world conquest, 403, 404. See also World com- munity, World empire World War, First: and balance of power, 140 ff., 148, 149, 153, 154, 165, 270 ff., 282; German predicament, 107; influ- ence of military preparedness upon, 89 ff.; policies leading toward, 24, 45, 46, 136, 141, 142, 153 ff., i8o, 282; caused by fear of population trend, 93; as preventive war, 155, 156; as total war, 182, 292 ff.; and nationalistic universal- ism, 194, 195. See also major powers, topical headings World War, Second: and balance of power, 140, 148, 149, 153, 156, 157, 165, 271 ff.; German predicament^ 107, 108; policies leading toward, 180, 181; influence of military preparedness upon, 89 ff.; Brit- ish and French policy toward Soviet Union, 436; as total war, 182, 183, 292; and nationalistic universalism, 194. See also major powers and topical headings World Wars, and economic objectives, 31; and problem of food, 82, S3; and mod- ern nationalism, 76 Wotton, Sir Henry, 184; on diplomacy, 426 Wright, J. W., 484 Wright^ Quincy, 474, 488; on balance of power, 164; on costliness of dvil wars, 398; on ratio of dvil and international wars, 397, 398 Wynner, Edith, 485 Yalta, Declaration of, 69, 194, 384, 386 Young, George, 489 Zimmern, Sir Alfred E., 487 ( xk ) PRINTER’S NOTE This boo\ was set on the Linotype in Granjon, a type named in compliment to Robert Granjon, type-cutter and printer — 1 $^3-^590, Antwerp, Lyons, Rome, Paris. Granjon, the bold- ed and most original designer of his time, was one of the first to practice the trade of type-founder apart from that of printer. Linotype Granjon was designed by George W. Jones, who based his drawings upon a face used by Claude Garamond (15/0-/561) in his beautiful French boo\s, Granjon more closely resembles Garamond' s own type than do any of the various modern faces that bear his name. The hoo\ was composed, printed, and hound by The Plimpton Press, Norwood, Massachusetts,