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votes; and in no country was the division clearer and the two sides more evenly balanced than in Great Britain. Is the foreign policy of Great Britain directed by a typical English Tory or a typical English Liberal? It is an important question for us in America. In the first case we may expect continual friction; in the second, we can look forward confidently to wholehearted cordiality.

The English, in their dealings with us, are inclined to rely overmuch on the proposition that "blood is thicker than water." We have too often seen this mystic liquid heated to the point of vaporization. Most American historians are agreed that if the British Government in 1776 had been in the hands of a Liberal we would not have revolted. But the bull-headed, ruthless Tory Lord North was in power, and we found him unbearable.

During the long struggle with Napoleon three great figures arose in English politics. They have furnished the "types" of British statesmanship. Pitt stood for the reaction, for conquest, for force; and helped by the sinister passions which war always raises, he won. For a generation the anti-democratic forces held high revel in England. Opposed to him was Fox, the most brilliant product of the spirit of progress in England. And between them wavered Burke; eloquently liberal on behalf of the American colonies, he was venomously hostile to the French Revolution; always changing color with the circumstances, he was the opportunist par excellence. Since then Britain has been ruled sometimes by the spiritual descendants of Fox, sometimes by the intellectual offspring of Pitt or Burke. Almost all English statesmen have resembled one or the other of these three.

The most recent example of this oscillation and of its effects on Anglo-American relations-was the South African War. The crushing of the Boer republics was Pittism, and the great majority of Americans were anti-English. The descendants of Fox came into power in 1906. The organization of the South African Union was one of the proudest achieve

ments of English political genius. There have been few nobler examples of the practical gain of a sincere effort at justice. The contrast between the success with which a liberal policy gained the loyalty of the defeated Boers and our clumsy and cruel Reconstruction policy after the Civil War is a glowing example of what is most admirable in the English mind. And as soon as it became evident to us that a really Liberal government was in power in London, the relations between the two countries, which had been strained, at once became cordial again. Blood, and its varying degrees of thickness, has little to do with it. The people of the United States are not pro-English; they are pro-Liberal.

Our own internal politics ought to help us to understand the struggle in England between the Foxes and the Pitts of our day. With them, as with us, the old party lines are largely meaningless. Each party, there as here, has its old guard and its quota of forward-looking men. Many of the Unionists are more progressive, from our point of view, than some of those who call themselves Liberal, for there are followers of Fox and of Pitt in both parties; but it is of the utmost importance for us to know all the time whether the actual foreign policy of Great Britain is typical of the England we admire or of the other England against which we revolted.

This tradition of shielding the foreign minister from criticism makes it extremely difficult to judge the personality of the man in the office. One can only estimate the character of the minister by the course of events and by such White Papers as he sees fit to issue. We know next to nothing of Sir Edward's motives; we can judge him only by visible results. They have not been altogether happy.

When he entered the Foreign Office, under the Liberal ministry of Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman in 1906, he inherited from his Tory predecessor, Lord Lansdowne, a foreign policy that, with few minor exceptions, he has continued. There is little in his administration which is of original conception.

The Conservatives, in the face of the general hostility caused by the Boer War, had given up the tradition of splendid isolation. The Entente Cordiale had been signed with France. King Edward and Lord Lansdowne had already committed. Great Britain to the anti-German block in European politics. Sir Edward could not easily have backed out of this engagement. He was not even free to tell his own people of the "secret annex" by which he found himself bound. And the Entente with Russia was the logical and necessary outgrowth of the understanding with France.

The Anglo-Russian Agreement of 1907 was, like the Entente Cordiale, on which it was modeled, eminently pacific in its wording. It was a colonial agreement by which Britain and Russia liquidated their outstanding quarrels in Asia. Both gave up claims which they had formerly said they would fight to maintain. Europe was not mentioned in the published text. It was not necessary to do so. The amiable arrangement of these subsidiary colonial disputes allowed Britain and France and Russia to form a group which could counterbalance the Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria, and Italy. It was hard to determine whether the intent of this arrangement was offensive or defensive. The point is hardly worth discussing. Both groups suspected the other of malignant designs, and each took measures of defense that appeared offensive to the other.

The best construction that can be put on the British policy of ententes-and personally it seems to be the most probableis that its object was to marshal a force which the Triple Alliance would be afraid to attack. This is certainly the way the Liberals and they were in power-understood the matter. And I do not believe that Sir Edward and his colleagues of the British cabinet were secretly planning an armed aggression against the Germanic group. The nation certainly was not. But the Germans, not without plausible reasons, feared attack. If the British intentions were as pacific as claimed, it

was poor diplomacy to allow them to be so thoroughly misunderstood. Telling the truth is only half the job; it is necessary to tell it convincingly. Sir Edward failed to be convincing.

There is not much serious Liberal criticism of this policy of the ententes of making friends. The only other alternative was for Great Britain to accept the monstrous military expenses which alone could have made isolation splendid. From the Liberal point of view the criticism against Sir Edward in the years preceding the war was directed at his methods of applying this policy.

The Liberals of Britain, as of every other country, want the influence of their Government in foreign affairs to weigh on the progressive side of the balance. An English Liberal wants British diplomacy to be everywhere a force for the advance. of civilization and the progress of the race. Sir Edward's policy has everywhere strengthened the least liberal element on the Continent.

The German fear of British aggression has tended to throw the nation more and more to the side of the military party. Just as with us the question of how large an army we need depends on the likelihood of our being attacked, so in Germany the more they felt themselves surrounded by hostile nations, the more readily they voted military taxes.

In France, Sir Edward's policy played into the hands of the Colonial party, which was forcing the republic, in the face of the opposition of all the parties of the left, despite the often-counted majority of the Chamber of Deputies, into the discreditable Morocco adventure. And in Russia, when the struggle of the people against their despotic Government was at its height, when all the liberals of that country were looking to England for inspiration and help, Sir Edward signed his pact with the czar. It was a crushing blow to the liberal aspirations.

But it is in Persia and the Balkans that Grey's diplomacy has been most offensive to our friends, the Liberals of England.

Not until the archives are opened, many

years hence, will the public know the real course of the Anglo-Russian negotiations in the shabby history of the Persian affair. Some of the diplomatic correspondence has been published; not enough to clear up the situation, but enough to indicate a fairly clear policy-to let Russia have her way. Sir Edward seems to have feared that he might lose Russia's support in the greater game of European politics if he took any sort of firm and Liberal stand in less important colonial matters. In every dispute which arose over the Persian Agreement Britain gave way before Russia. The czar's government quickly realized the situation. Whenever a crisis arose in Europe which emphasized the value of close coöperation among the Entente powers, Russia launched a new aggression in Persia. At least once, and apparently oftener, Sir Edward overrode the advice of Spring-Rice, the British diplomat on the spot, and issued peremptory orders not to oppose the Russians. As SpringRice has since been advanced to the embassy at Washington, it is not probable that his chief distrusted his judgment. Apparently Sir Edward's guiding principle was not to offend Russia. By insisting on a loyal observation of pledges or by protesting against atrocities he might have weakened his European bloc. In fear of losing Russian aid in Europe, he was will ing to sacrifice in Persia not only legitimate British interests, but also all that English Liberals would call common decency. From a humanitarian point of view the British record in Persia is the blackest in recent history. It is on a par with their Chinese opium war and their ultimatum to Portugal in 1890.

closed. But Russia did not approve of Bulgaria, and, at the czar's suggestion, Sir Edward withdrew his patronage from Bulgaria and made a new friendshipwhich by this time has become traditional -with Russia's protégé, Servia.

The justification of this subservience to Russia in Persia and the Balkans depends on the reality of the German menace. Professor Gilbert Murray in his pamphlet, "The Foreign Policy of Sir Edward Grey," thinks that he was justified in sacrificing all ideals of British Liberalism in the near East because the threat from Germany was so menacing. It is a doubtful sporting proposition for the foreign minister of a great empire to buy safety for his own people at the expense of a weak and struggling nation like Persia, but it is of course in accord with the traditions of diplomacy.

Professor Murray, the most eminent Liberal defender of Sir Edward's policy, writes, "I do not feel any enthusiasm for our Persian record," but he holds that this policy was imposed on Sir Edward by the sinister necessity of consorting with people who were not gentlemen, of working with sorry tools, in order to preserve Europe from the catastrophe of German domination.

But this is a boomerang defense. It brings matters to an unfortunate dilemma. If Sir Edward was so aware of the German menace that he felt justified in holding the ring while the Cossacks were massacring the liberals of Persia, why did he not warn his own people of this danger? The Liberal ministry to which Sir Edward belongs explain their lack of preparedness on the ground that they did not take the German menace seriously.

Sir Edward Grey seems to lack the sharp definition of either Fox or Pitt. He is more nearly akin to the chameleon

The policy of Sir Edward in the obscure intrigues of Balkan diplomacy seems to have been the same. The unhappy peninsula was recognized as a Russian sphere of influence. Great Britain was,Burke. A country gentleman by birth and

disinterested. There is a certain poetic justice in the present situation. If the powers of the Entente had fostered the Balkan Alliance, the one hope of a decent Liberal solution of the near-] r-Eastern problem, the Dardanelles would not have been

tradition, he holds office in a Liberal ministry. In order to oppose what he and his party felt to be a wave of military reaction in Europe, he played the even more reactionary politics of the czar in Persia and the Balkans. To insure the

cordial coöperation of the French Republic, he encouraged the enemies of Liberalism in France.

So we in America must not be surprised if one day he speaks to us in the voice of Fox and the next day acts after the manner of Pitt. But we must with care avoid the error of identifying Sir Edward with the great nation he represents. There is an immense amount of true Liberalism in England-on which we can hope to build. an ever-increasing friendship-even if it does not always show in their foreign policy.

When we turn to a consideration of British foreign policy since the outbreak of the war, we must remember that civil government has nearly ceased to exist. The generals and admirals do the acting, and there is little left to diplomats except the thankless task of trying to explain these acts. But here again the mystery which surrounds the British Foreign Office makes it quite impossible to know how much real power and responsibility is left to Sir Edward. There are rumors afloat in London-plausible rumors-of discord in the cabinet, quite like the reputed disagreement between the German chancellor and Grand Admiral von Tirpitz. It is more than probable that Sir Edward has disapproved of policies he has been forced to defend. But as long as he remains in office and maintains the veil of secrecy, he must be considered responsible. And British foreign policy since the outbreak of the war does not seem to have been inspired by a descendant of Fox.

The outstanding diplomatic fact of this first year of war is that Great Britain, while she won great popularity among all the neutral nations by entering the conflict, has lost friends everywhere. Announcing herself in August, 1914, as the defender of the rights of small nations, she is now in diplomatic conflict with all of them. Her navy has committed acts of war in the neutral waters of Chile and Norway. Her expeditionary force in the Mediterranean has occupied some of the Greek isles, on the same principle that necessity knows no law which led the Ger

mans to enter Luxemburg. As a reprisal against the unpleasant means of warfare adopted by the Germans, she has interfered with the neutral rights and noncontraband trade of Holland and Sweden and Switzerland. A year ago the small states of Europe were glad to be protected against German aggression. To-day a growing public opinion is asking if the cure is not worse than the disease.

The relations between Britain and the United States illustrates in a small way the situation of the European neutrals. In normal times less than ten per cent. of our production of wealth is exported overseas. So the various bizarre blockades that the English have busily invented have not affected us with anything like the gravity they have had for such maritime nations as Norway or Holland. But despite our small interest in the sea trade, the policy of Sir Edward has noticeably decreased English popularity in America; it has turned many former friends into outspoken enemies.

In the matter of cotton the British policy has been anything but straightforward. They have tried to pay us with words. At the outbreak of the war they decided to buy our sympathy with a great bribe. Out of consideration for our feelings, they would not put cotton on the contraband list. For this we were expected to be very grateful, and to recognize the entire justice of their cause. Then they set to work to stop our cotton trade with Germany without declaring it contraband. The horrid word was to be avoided, and this turned out to be the extent of the "concession."

The Dacia incident was an amusing example of the English effort to accomplish a result without seeming to. "See how friendly we are!" they said. "We are going to let you sell your cotton to Germany." But the one possible way to get a cargo of cotton to Europe was to buy or charter a ship. Half the world's merchant fleet was in hiding or engaged in auxiliary war-work. The only ship available for the cotton trade was the Dacia.

And when at last the Dacia sailed,—

some one being naïve enough to believe that the English did not object to our selling cotton to Germany,-British warships trailed it across the ocean. They did not interfere with it, that might have led to hard feeling in America, they arranged to have a French cruiser pick it up. The theory of this operation was that their ally was not bound by their promises. In London this was considered a very clever solution of a delicate situation. We were expected to admire the finesse with which they had passed us a bad coin.

Sir Edward insists that it is entirely neutral-in fact, the real essence of neutrality for us to help them against the Germans by selling them the munitions they are unable to make for themselves; but in his view it is hideously unneutral for Sweden to sell anything to Germany. Britain has not declared war on Holland, and so of course is not blockading the Dutch ports; but the Dutch, the most neutral nation in Europe, having many good friends on both sides, ask what the difference would be if a real blockade was instituted. Under the threat of financial and commercial boycott, by stopping all ships entering or leaving her unblockaded harbors, Britain has forced Holland to promise not to trade with Germany.

If Sir Edward is surprised that this sort of juggling with words makes enemies, he is quite as weak in diplomatic psychology as those Germans who believed that all British colonies would revolt as soon as England became involved in war, and that we would grasp the opportunity to try to annex Canada.

Now, it is sometimes necessary and even noble to make enemies. Sir Edward cannot be seriously criticized for having done so if he can show any compensating result. This feeling of sullen enmity-most of the nations he has offended are too weak to defend their rights-has been caused by the British effort to starve Germany into submission. But the German armies, after a year of this starvation, do not seem to be noticeably underfed. The conviction seems to be growing, even in England,

that the war cannot be won by naval action alone. It will be necessary to fight.

The central aim of British foreign policy is the control of the sea. This is a real tradition which goes far back into the history of the nation. Quite aside from the broader question of whether or not it is well for the world to have Britannia rule the waves, it is certainly important. for the British Empire. The proud boast that the sun never sets on the Union Jack implies a grave danger. The empire could no longer exist, as at present organized, if it became impossible to despatch troops at any minute to any corner of the world. And future British opinion in regard to Sir Edward Grey will probably hinge on the question of whether this sea control was strengthened or weakened under his administration.

And any such judgment will be inherently unjust to him. It is difficult to see what he could have done about it. At most statesmanship might have postponed for some years the fate which was inevitable. The resources by which the English dominated the seas have been weakening these many years. And the last generation has seen a great access of power to those who were inclined, or might become inclined, to dispute her position. The progress of science by itself would sooner or later have made it impossible for one nation to hold the empire of the


It is unsound to push too far the analogy between navalism and militarism. The two things can never be quite the same. Control of the sea may help to dominate the land, but it is inherently different. Nobody lives "at sea." The ocean is a sort of social vacuum. Every one upon it, except yachtsmen, is straining every effort to get to land. While imperial

dominance over the nations can be realized only by military despotism, it is possible to conceive of absolute control of the sea based on general consent. As long as it is fairly just, few have any interest in disputing it. The British Naval Empire has to a large extent been of this kind.

While every effort to subdue the Con

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