Neutrals and Permanent Peace

As I begin to write this paper, peace seems further away than ever. War has been knocking at the door of the last of the neutrals, and Germany has announced her resolve to resort to the last desperate remedy of submarine warfare. But we of the Netherlands feel that tins summer both groups of combatants must arrive at the end of their physical and financial resources, and, desperate as is the present, we raise our eyes to a better future which cannot be far off.

What light of peace shall Europe and the world see? An artificial, a temporary peace, or an eternal light, so far as anything can be eternal in this everyday world of ours? What sort of peace are we preparing for the world? What, in the eyes of the smaller neutral states of Europe, may be considered sufficient guaranties for the future?

It is this latter question which the Atlantic has asked me to deal with. But I need hardly make it clear to the reader that this minor question depends first of all on the larger one: how are we to secure anything like a permanent peace for the world at large? If peace is to be secured for every one, then of course the smaller neutral states will run as little risk as the larger ones. And if we are to narrow down the question to its most limited application, we had best put it in this form: Which of the means proposed to secure permanent peace implies the greatest, and which the least danger to these smallest nations?

If we were to face the problem in this extremely limited form, however, we should hardly do it justice, especially since we find that the problem of war and peace, even between the nations of Europe, has very little of a purely European character.

I

War is nothing but a disease in the body politic, like fever in the human body. If we want to know how to prevent it, we must first study the causes which lead to it, and the hygienic measures which are most likely to remove those causes. The question of medical or surgical treatment comes in only when hygiene has proved unsuccessful in its preventive working. As regards the present war and its effect on future peace or strife, my article on ‘Neutral Europe and the War’¹ is as clearly outspoken as any one could desire, my aim having been to prove beyond doubt that, if this war were to end with a decisive victory of either side and the consequent crushing of the vanquished beneath the conqueror’s feet, the world would be ripe for a fresh period of unrest, ending in a more terrible war; just as the peace of Frankfort, in 1871 had as its sequel the nursing of French revanche and the present war. When President Wilson in December addressed the belligerent powers, he gave weight and prestige to the same point of view.

If the world is to be given a chance for anything like a permanent settlement at the conclusion of this war, it will have to adopt the basic principles of no annexations, no economic leagues of one group against the other. The watchword of the future will have to be international coöperation, certainly not international economic strife assisted by protection and elimination.

II

The fact that the present war originated in a kind of dynastic or racial quarrel between Austria and Serbia should not for a moment blind us to the facts of international history of the last twenty-five years. During this period Europe and the world at large have constantly been waging war, or living on the brink of it. But if Britain and France, Britain and Germany, Britain and Russia, France and Spain, France and Italy, Italy and Turkey, Germany and France, Japan and Russia, Britain and the United States of America, the United States and Spain, the United States and Japan, threatened to come to blows, or actually went to war, it was not on account of political questions near at home, but rather because of questions arising out of the general policy of expansion in America, Africa, West and East Asia. The more strictly national questions came to the front only in the solution of the Balkan problem; and here economic exigencies, and the pressure for outlets to the open sea for Austria, Serbia, and Russia, and for Germany free play in Asia Minor, were always behind the so-called racial and national difficulties.

In reading the history of these last twenty-five years, one finds one’s self confronted by such an intricate network of diplomatic intrigues to get the better of the other parties, to make the most of another nation’s difficulties, to form combinations and countercombinations, that one is bound to come to the conclusion that peace now made on a purely European basis would give no security whatever against future troubles and outbreaks. So long as there remains any chance of a race for concessions and monopolies, for the favoring of national commerce and industry, or for ‘friendly treaties’ which practically mean annexation, no real peace is possible. If ‘chartered companies’ can cause raids and wars; if the murder of a few missionaries, sent out to open the way for trade, is looked upon as giving sufficient right to claim ‘compensations’; if the demand for concessions for railways, like the Bagdad line, can be turned into causes for political ‘measures’ and international governmental wrangles, we need not hope for lasting peace, even if all the nationalities in and outside Europe were to be given their own again.

This is quite true with regard to the treaty of peace which is to be entered into at the end of this war. It may have struck the reader that, whereas Germany showed herself prepared to open peace negotiations by the end of 1916, her reply to President Wilson put off the discussion of the League of Peace question until after the conclusion of peace, while the Entente declared itself quite willing to treat of both at the same time — but only at a future date. As a matter of fact, both these attitudes prove exactly the same thing. It is quite clear that if the nations are going to enter a League of Peace, which, if effective, must prevent any future readjustment of the political map after the next peace-treaty, the draft of this treaty becomes one of paramount and lasting interest. And so Germany says, ‘We must know what this treaty is like, before we bind ourselves to uphold it for an indefinite future.’ Britain says, ‘We must first secure our supremacy over Germany. Once this is secured, we shall be only too happy to turn it into permanency.’ If Germany, thanks to her successes in the Balkans, secures free access to Asia Minor, she will have no objection to concluding a ’lasting peace’ on this basis. Neither will Great Britain, once she has barred the way to Asia Minor against her powerful competitor.

It is clear, however, that a permanency thus based on outdoing one’s competitor will have as little sound foundation as a house built on shifting sands. It will be worth no more than other ‘scraps of paper.’ The history of the last twenty-five years is full of examples of wriggling out of treaties, of promises and undertakings, the moment these conflict with lust of expansion. And there will be no end of wriggling out of this future peace treaty, if it is to be based on the paramountcy of either party.

If, therefore, the world is to be set really at rest, and not again handed over to unending conflict, the entire aspect of the commercial and industrial world will have to be revolutionized. We shall have to eliminate the smallest possible chance of struggles for ’places in the sun.’ In other words, every one will have to be welcome everywhere. The doors will have to be thrown open, all the world over. The world’s exploitation of commercial and industrial assets and possibilities will have to be made a universal instead of a national affair.

The idea is, no doubt, at first sight startling enough, and all the more so as it goes directly against the tendencies awakened by this present war, which has caused such an unheard-of revival of fanatical nationalism all the world over. It goes against the schemes for narrower commercial alliances put forth both by the Central Powers and the Entente. It is the entire reversal of protectionism, which seems to hold the field; yet however startling, it will really prove ‘ the only way out.’ The world will have to accept it, or go to ruin. And before taking the trouble of studying further schemes to enforce peace, we shall have to reason out whether, notwithstanding all the powers at work for hypernationalism and protection, there is any chance for this internationalization of the world’s commerce and industry to develop out of the present chaos.

It is a curious phenomenon that this war, while greatly impoverishing the contending parties, has on the other hand brought about a general technical and industrial revolution and organization which will be the startingpoint of a new era for each of them, once the war is over. Everywhere machinery and methods have been overhauled, new technical possibilities discovered, and the national industry founded as nearly on a basis of selfhelp as science and technique, combined with national materials, would allow. This will mean a future competition in the world’s markets quite different from what it was before. Former clients will have become independent of each other and better able to compete. Prices and values will in consequence run each other closer than ever before. A fractional change in price wall mean big orders won or lost.

Such a state of close competition will again necessitate the cutting down of margins of costs of production to the lowest level. Each factor will have to be studied with the greatest care. Differences in standards of living, in costs of living, will tell their tale more effectively than ever. The first result will therefore be the establishment of a tremendous case for free importation of food-stuffs. The next will be another strong case for free importation of materials. Free importation of goods in the rough will follow. Last of all will come the free importation of the necessities of life. The only remaining things on which customs duties can be levied will be luxuries of all sorts. The fact that the margins in price will be very small, will give national industries an easy lead in their own countries, so long as the freight charges from one part of the country to another do not exceed the freight chargesfrom any foreign state. From a purely economic point of view, therefore, the chances for international free trade are not so bad as they may superficially appear.

And, after all, this question of the ‘open door’ is one of economic insight and experience only. Insight and experience, even if scientific, are not such objective values as to stand free from psychological and emotional bias. If this war has taught us anything at all, it has shown us how our human faculty of reasoning is swayed by prejudice and sympathy. Even among the so-called neutral nations, few individuals appear to have been able to keep their minds open; and a person who has followed the debates between free-traders and protectionists in any country must know well that, as soon as prejudice enters the field, arguments are as easily manufactured as they are ignored.

The foregoing argument as to the possibility of the world’s accepting the system of the ‘open door’ therefore pretends in no way to be a prophecy. It goes no further than this: common sense and knowledge of history teach us that without this ‘open door’ there is not the slightest chance of a worldpeace. The outlook for trade after the war is such that it will offer strong inducements for free trade to each nation that wants to compete in the world’s market. If mankind comes to its senses after the war, we shall find a multitude of arguments in favor of universal free trade. It is not to be assumed yet, however, that it will come to its senses, or that it will profit by the lessons of history, for the simple reason that, generally speaking, men know very little of history; and what they know is mostly incorrect.

Small as my own country is, Holland offers an object-lesson in the art of studying economic facts and profiting by what they teach. This is mentioned here by way of encouragement to those readers who may take too pessimistic a view of the future; for both homecountry and colonies have been practicing free-trade for half a century, and have remained true to its principles notwithstanding the fact that the whole world around them (with the exception of Great Britain) was building its tariff walls higher and higher, thus aiding the formation of trusts and state interference with trade and commerce. When protection was abolished, Holland’s industry and commerce, agriculture and shipping were at their lowest ebb. In the half-century that followed, she was able to maintain a population, increased by eighty per cent (1869, 3,579,000; 1914, 6,339,000) in greatly improved conditions, both materially and morally; her state budget was more than doubled; the total of her general commerce had grown in 1913 to eight times that of 1867-71; her export of agricultural products to nine times that of 1867; the extent of her industrial railways had increased to four times that of 1881; and the capital invested in her larger industrial concerns had multiplied five-fold from 1895 to 1912; the tonnage of her mercantile fleet in 1913 was three times that of 1895; her export of textile industries increased to seven times that, of 1870; and the amount of general exports to her own colonies, notwithstanding the abolition of protectionist rates, had grown to three times that of 1870.

Of course, this entire development, was dependent on the general growth of commercial life, especially since 1895; but though we are a small nation, handicapped by high tariff walls all around us, we improved our place in the world’s commerce, taking fifth place instead of sixth, which we occupied in 1886. We grew with the people around us; and so deeply rooted in our people was the conviction that we were doing well under the banner of free trade, that various attempts on the part of the conservative clerical faction to force us to adopt protection were frustrated at the polls; the industrial leaders, who had thriven under the stress of competition, standing foremost in the ranks of those who withstood the onslaught on our free-trade system.

Now, why should we remain alone in our adherence to a system which has done so much for us under the worst conditions? Granting that protection may also have done wonders for greater, more self-sustaining nations, we stand ready to prove that free trade may turn out quite as beneficial. Moreover, as the future of international relations demands universal free trade, the case for its adoption may on the whole line be said to have been established — at least, as soon as common sense may speak out freely again, uninfluenced by the bias of hypernationalism. Should the return of national sanity be slow, and the idea of immediate coöperation between the parties now at war prove unacceptable, it might not be difficult to find a form of free trade which would permit this cooperation without making it appear too repulsive to the unreformed Jingo mentality. The neutrals might be called upon to form trading companies on a neutral basis, the shares of which would be divided among all trading and industrial nations according to an impartial scale. All rights of trading, concessions, and commercial exploration could be put in the hands of these companies, which in this form would be truly representative of the entire trading and industrial world, and would prevent any country from feeling itself excluded. An international committee could superintend the working of these trading companies and see that they allowed fair play to the trading world at large. The rulers of commercially unexplored parts of the world could allow these trading exploration companies a free hand, feeling sure that no annexation would follow their trading, and diplomacy would have no chance of creating mischief for selfish national ends.

III

Standing out against the chances that after the war the contending parties will show themselves obdurate toward allowing the enemy free economic play, there are two elements which will certainly work for international coöpperation. Whatever may be said of the animosity and hatred fanned to such terrible heat by journalists and politicians, who have not been in the war, in the armies no such mutual hatred exists, and we may rely on the return of the troops to knock this nonsense out of the stay-at-homes. Besides, no hatred or distrust born of former wars has prevented Britain and France, Russia and Japan, Bulgaria and Turkey from fighting side by side, the moment it became clear where their interests lay. If only the basis of the peace to be concluded be such as to eliminate causes of friction, there is no reason why the natural run of economic coöperation cannot be secured.

A second favorable element will be the financial position of the nations which have taken part in the war. We all know by this time how the realities of the war have put to shame all prophecies, especially those regarding economic factors. Once more the ‘dreary science’ has been set at naught by the psychological factor of necessity. We have witnessed an outburst of inventive genius which has staved off the collapse predicted within the first half year. The impossible has been accomplished, both in economic and in purely financial matters. Yet although paper finance has performed the most wondrous feats, we may say that debts have been run up by both sides to unheard-of totals. Peace will find the creditors knocking at the treasury doors with no uncertain sound. To pay both interest and capital, the state budgets will have to be doubled, if not trebled, everywhere, and the costs of military preparedness for the future will prove to have undergone no diminution. The size, quantity, and cost of guns and ammunition have been incredibly augmented during the war. Even the richest nations in Europe will prove unable to bear this double extra burden. To prevent state bankruptcy, either the debts or the military preparation will have to be curtailed; and if we count on a return of common sense after peace is concluded, we need not ask which of the two will have to suffer. After this terrible waste, every nerve must needs be strained to restore the shattered economic fabric. So, apart from psychological and sentimental factors at work, the policy of every statesman in Europe will have to be directed toward a diminution of armaments, and as this can be made possible only by mutual consent, coöperation must be the watchword of the near future.

So far as Europe is concerned, this will mean, in practice, first of all, an understanding between Great Britain and Germany. In the two contending groups we find both these countries leading the others and holding them in financial dependence. Outside Europe, the United States and Japan are the chief creditors, and if they are prepared to fall in with an international scheme, it will no doubt stand a good chance of being seriously considered and, possibly, accepted.

That Japan would be inclined to join such a scheme is, of course, very doubtful. That country will come out of this war greatly strengthened and enriched, while her European competitors in Asia will be greatly weakened. Unless she is forced by the other powers to unite in a general movement for the ‘open door,’ with military combinations against refractory states, she will certainly prefer to play the game of expansion independently, and secure her paramountcy in eastern Asia.

Great Britain, however, coming out of the war with prestige greatly weakened by her enforced dependence on colonial assistance, will perhaps understand that Japan would only have to combine with Russia or Germany in order to oust her from her place in the East; and she may therefore be more willing to enter into a combination that will bind Germany, Russia, and Japan, and keep them from making mischief.

I am already trespassing on the political problems which are presenting themselves to us with regard to the world’s peace of the future. It seems fairly clear that the danger of a recurrence of war-fever will be greatly diminished by a peace without victors and vanquished; without annexations and humiliation. This hygienic measure will be strengthened by allowing free play to all national aspirations both by the ‘open-door’ policy for the world at large, and by the economic and financial necessity of lessening armaments after the war.

However, we must not be blind to the fact that hygienic measures, however wholesome and necessary, are not absolute safeguards against disorders. If we want to build up a real world and not a fool’s paradise, we must now look further for curative means. In doing so, we are sure to meet with a great deal of distrust of former pacifist specifics, such as treaties and congresses. Certainly we cannot deny that this war has shown them to be of little avail. They have been tried and found wanting. The cry now is all for sanction and penalties in international law; more especially with regard to the keeping of peace. Modern pacifist literature abounds in propositions making it imperative that no state should resort to the arbitration of arms before it has brought its case before an international impartial tribunal.

In dissecting the proposition here set out in its most general form, we find ourselves confronted with the following elements: —

1. The question of the formation of such an international court.

2. The question as to what we are to understand by a ‘case’ in international politics.

3. The question whether the court’s powers should be directed toward conciliation, or arbitration, or both.

4. The questions, what penalties shall be inflicted; who shall determine them; what power is going to execute them.

We know that the second Peace Conference at The Hague has given the world the nucleus of such an international court, but matters have not progressed beyond the establishment of provisions in various treaties for the calling together of such a court, if need be. Now, it is clear that in times of stress machinery must be ready at hand to meet the emergency, thus doing away with the necessity for ill-considered improvisation. The very first thing, then, to be done will be the setting up of a permanent court, which will be able to take cognizance of any case within its jurisdiction. As there may be some cases calling for conciliation, others for arbitration; and as the former are rather more of a political, the latter of a judicial nature, it may prove to be practicable to split the court in two. Questions may indeed arise out of the reading of international treaties and conventions; or they may be of a dynastic or economic nature; to the president of the court, or to the contesting parties, should therefore be left the choice as to whether conciliation or arbitration should be employed.

In international politics, however, we frequently meet with problems of a most complex nature which are not easily to be so formulated that they can be laid before a court, whether of arbitration or conciliation. Take, for instance, the difficulties which arose in July, 1914, between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. The murder of the heir to the throne was laid by Austria-Hungary at the door of the Serbian government. But immediately back of this one finds the Panslavist movement, led by the Russian consul in Belgrade, and directed against Austria. And behind this one sees clearly the historic strife between Russia and the Dual Monarchy for supremacy in the Balkans.

If the Austro-Hungarian government had brought the case before an international court, it might of course have done so in the form of a request for an injunction against Serbia, declaring its government guilty of having suffered or assisted the conspiracy within its precincts, and demanding punishment of all those implicated. But could it by this means have struck at the root of the matter? Could it have brought the Russian consul to account? And if so, what about the Panslavist movement, and, finally, the Russian influence in the Balkans?

It is clear that the formulation of the case to be laid before an international court would have been no easy matter; yet we all feel that it should have been done; we feel it all the more strongly since we are not at all sure that the dual government had any real proof of the charge against the smaller state. And so long as governments and diplomatists need to blind their subjects and the world, and to cover up widespread secret policies, we may well understand what difficulties lie in the way of the adoption of this measure, which appears so simple and necessary to most of us.

Yet apart from the crafty methods of diplomatists, we must not shut our eyes to the dangers that await every state, and especially the smaller ones, if the application of coercion is not restrained by very clear and explicit definitions. Great stress has been laid by Dutch students of international law on the necessity of limiting such application to clear and explicit cases. Another great difficulty lies in the matter of military preparation pending the settlement of cases before the court. So far, the proposals to enforce peace leave it open to a party to have recourse to arms, should it not receive the satisfaction it had demanded from the court. By taking its case before the court, it thus gives the other party and its possible friends time for making preparations for war. In 1914, Germany’s casus belli against Russia was said to be the mobilization of the army of the latter pending negotiations. No government, therefore, which felt itself prepared for war would take its case before a court, unless an injunction would at once forbid all preparations for war to the other party and its friends. But not only could the time pending the hearing be usefully employed for invisible preparations and drawing up of plans, but the injunction would certainly prove most advantageous to the side of Might against Right, if ultimately the strongest litigant should refuse to listen to justice or reason, as voiced by the court. And so one is fairly driven to the conclusion that no room should be left for the free play of arms, after the case has been up for conciliation or arbitration.

IV

Let us now consider coercion following either a refusal to lay differences before the court, or the pronouncement of its decision. Already a great variety of coercive measures have been pronounced, and in a report written by Professor João Cabrol, of Brazil, for the International Congress for the Study of the Principles of a Durable Peace (which was to have been held at Berne in 1916) ² I find the following enumeration, as proposed by M. Romarowsky: —

1. The exclusion of the rebel state from the said court.

2. Rupture of diplomatic relations with the rebel state.

3. The annulment of every treaty especially favorable to the rebel state.

4. Denial of the right of any citizen of such state to reside in territory belonging to the other states.

5. Prohibition of import and export of produce as between the former and the latter.

6. Blockade of the rebel state.

7. Finally, as a last resort, the employment of armed force.

Leaving the first and minor points aside, we may consider the last three, as they also form an inherent part of the scheme set out by the American League to Enforce Peace.

As to the boycotting, we have now before us the idea of a general and financial embargo against the offending state; and the more moderate proposition made by three Dutch delegates in a report prepared for the proposed Congress at Berne, in the name of the Dutch Anti-Oorlogsraad, namely, a limitation on the selling of any contraband of war to the offending state.

As to the application of armed force, two main propositions have been suggested by your League to Enforce Peace. The first provides that all the other signatories to the international arrangement should declare war on the refractory state. The second, set out by Professor Ehrich and our Dutch Professor van Vollenhoven, envisages the formation of one international armed force, to which each of the signatories should contribute its share.

The limitations of the writer’s subject-matter may absolve him from the obligation of considering both schemes in their general working and effect. He has only to analyze their possible effect on the smaller nations of Europe, as eventual co-signatories of the treaty. It is clear that the scheme of the American League to Enforce Peace would render it utterly impossible for them to remain neutral in any future war, as Holland, Switzerland, Spain, and the Scandinavian countries have done so far in the present conflict. Suppose the League had existed in 1914. Then, on Austria’s refusal to bring her grievance against Serbia before a court of arbitration, all Europe would have been obliged to boycott her; and, if this had proved ineffective, to declare war against her. Of course, if Austria had known that this would be the result of her refusal to arbitrate, she would probably have assented. Even as it was, she would not have acted as she did in 1914 if she had not been absolutely certain that Germany was going to back her up. And Russia would not have started her mobilization and taken up a threatening attitude if she had not relied on France to assist her. France, in her turn, was relying on the support of Great Britain. So the working of the scheme of this League would first of all depend on its making alliances, such as the Triple Alliance, or the Entente, impossible, whether open or secret. One of the essential provisions of the new world-organization would therefore of necessity be a prohibition of such alliances. But how is this to be effected?

Let us return to our hypothetical case of July, 1914. Austria having refused to submit her case against Serbia to arbitration, the rest of Europe would have been set in motion against her. Of the smaller nations, Switzerland, Serbia, and Roumania are her neighbors. If Austria had been ready for the fray, she might have attacked first these smaller countries, which would then have had to bear the initial impact of the world’s move against the peacebreaker. Of course, if Germany had refused to stand by Austria, she would have hastened to Switzerland’s assistance; but owing to Russia’s lack of preparedness, Serbia and Roumania might in the meantime have become the victims of aggression.

It will be urged, however, that the smaller nations need not coöperate on the field of battle. They might simply join the international boycott. The reply is that the idea of boycotting a foreign nation is quite practicable —under certain conditions only. Denmark, Holland, Switzerland, could easily join in a boycott of Russia; Sweden could not. Neither could Switzerland boycott Austria; Holland, Belgium, and Denmark could not boycott Germany or England. Besides, a boycott would certainly be construed as an unfriendly act and cause for war. Any big nation that saw its profit in attacking a smaller neighbor at the beginning of hostilities, would at once put the question, ‘Are you going to join the boycott against me?’ And an affirmative answer would no doubt prove a casus belli.

As I have already said, the report prepared by the three Dutch delegates for the projected Congress at Berne in 1916 proposed to limit boycotts to articles of contraband. This would minimize the danger, but would also weaken the effect of the measure. True, all such outrages on the smaller nations would in the long run be revenged on the wrong-doer; and even the strongest power would finally have to yield to the combination of the world’s forces. But let us try to imagine a Russia with as strong an economic and military organization as Germany’s: it would take the combined world’s power years to overcome its resistance, and in the mean time, Sweden, Roumania, and Poland would have been overrun by Russian armies and turned into vast battlefields like Belgium and Serbia in this war. And what if one or more of the signatories to the general treaty of the League saw its interest in joining hands with the wrong-doer instead of declaring war on him? No reader of history will deny that diplomatists have always shown themselves past masters in the art of finding ‘honorable’ reasons for evading treaty obligations, the moment their national interest seemed to call for such a course?

The smaller nations, then, in joining the League to Enforce Peace, would certainly be taking a leap in the dark and exposing themselves to grave dangers, far graver than the Great Powers. The Van Vollenhoven-Ehrich scheme sets to work on a different basis. It does not demand declarations and acts of war from each government separately; but it aims at creating an international navy and army, which are to enforce the law of the world on any unwilling power that threatens the world’s peace.

Now, it is clear that, apart from general objections to the feasibility of this scheme, it puts the smaller nations on a different footing from that of the League to Enforce Peace. The only thing that is demanded of them is that they should bear a share in thecosts and maintenance of these instruments of international police. It is not their government which has to declare and wage war on the wrong-doer; not their armies which have to lead an attack; and so the risk of their country being turned into a battlefield, and playing the part of pawn in a great game of chess, is largely diminished. What they would have to contribute to the international army or navy would be a great deal less than they are paying now for their own ineffective defensive forces.

On further investigation of these matters, one finds one’s self, however, confronted by questions of still broader significance. It is easy to talk about concerted world-movements to enforce peace, or to state that an international military force will have to be set in motion. But who is to order the move? who is to take the lead? Such concerted action of the Great Powers, as we have already seen, has been directed only against smaller or far weaker states — Turkey, Crete, the Balkans. How late and indecisive such combined action has always proved! If it is to coerce any of our big powers, it must be ready to strike quick, crushing blows at once. Those persons, therefore, who have thought the problem out are demanding an international executive: first, to call any warlike power to order; then, to set in motion the forces against it, and lead them if necessary. And we find pointed out to us that here at The Hague we have already a permanent administrative council which has only to be turned into an executive council and strengthened with military, naval, and financial advisers.

Baron Palmstierna of Sweden, pursuing the idea still further, finds that a permanent legislature, a permanent court of arbitration, a permanent court of inquiry and conciliation, a permanent executive power and public prosecutor, will constitute the necessary machinery to secure for us permanent peace. Now it is clear that all this machinery is the machinery of a federated world. And if it be necessary, in order to make any scheme to enforce peace effective, first to create all this machinery, then why should we fear to pronounce the great words themselves — ‘The Federation of the World’s States’? I am not speaking of a world’s federation, but of a federation of all the existing states, in a combination which would leave each of them an entirely free hand, and yet would unite them for the furtherance of their common interests.

Already the world knows some great and small federations of this kind. There are the United States of America; there is the British Empire, with its self-governing colonies; the German Empire, with its federated States; Austria-Hungary as a dual monarchy; the Swiss Republic. It is especially the British Empire which will serve to give us an idea of the nature of the Federation of the States of the World. Take Canada and Australia in their relation to the mother-country. For all practical purposes of internal policy, they are as independent of the mother-country as Holland is, say, of Switzerland. Their constitution and their social fabric have developed without any real interference from Great Britain, and they both differ from the mother-country and from each other in many respects. The tie that binds the Empire together is very loose indeed. It is strengthened only in times of danger. But far more significant for us from our present point of view is the fact that, whatever differences might arise between them, they would not think of settling them by means of war.

The same thing may be said of the Federated States of America since the Civil War; the same of Prussia and Bavaria after 1871; of Austria-Hungary after 1849, and of Switzerland. Practical experience teaches us, therefore, that federation may include states very widely separated or very near each other; that it may knit them very closely together, or leave them practically independent; but that, whatever form it takes, it is always effective in abolishing war as a means of solving differences between the federated states. We may therefore conclude that a Federation of the States of the World could be founded the day after this war ends, on a basis of entire mutual independence as regards constitution and social fabric, thus giving us the one proved means of preventing war and strife. The indispensable thing is the abolition of tariffs, and the formation of a sort of machinery to deal with all questions of international interests.

I have tried to make it clear that without this abolition of tariffs even the minor schemes of the League to Enforce Peace, or of Professor van Vollenhoven, would prove more dangerous than effective. And it will need no further proof that, if the three schemes all necessitate this evolution, — or revolution,— the most effective one of the three is also the most to be recommended. Of course, the working out of such a federation of states and the setting-up of its machinery would mean an immense task. But this would be equally true of the establishment of any of the smaller schemes. Much preparatory study has already been done for the latter, which would come in quite handy for the former. What the Hague congresses have already agreed on, or merely discussed, will be no less valuable as a nucleus for the larger scheme.

True, the force may be lacking to weld this great world of ours together, even in the form of the loosest cohesion; and the idea of ending this present war by the setting up of a World Federation of States may well appear the wildest of dreams. Is not even a Federation of the States of Europe as far away from reality as one may well imagine? And yet, a federation of the entire world is, once one comes to think of it, far more easy of realization than a merely European federation. On the European basis weare at once confronted with the question of hegemony: Great Britain or Germany will want the lead; and we do not wish any more hegemonies. In a Federation of the States of the World, however, this highly ticklish question of supremacy falls at once outside the field of practical politics. Even Germany and Great Britain will not claim supremacy over America or Japan. In a federation on a European basis the smaller nations would feel themselves under the heel of the larger ones. In a Federation of the States of the World this element of oppression would at once disappear. Moreover, we have made it clear that the questions that have disturbed Europe are not of a purely European nature. They involve the world at large; and they can be settled only by the machinery of a federation that embraces the whole world.

The idea is staggering, but it is a comparatively simple one, even compared with the other schemes. Its great and immense advantage over a League to Enforce Peace is that it resolves once for all the narrow idea of nationality into the wider sphere of a common humanity. In it nationality will remain a force of progress, no longer a force of destruction as well. The League to Enforce Peace leaves the mind of the average citizen of an independent state where it was before this war— as narrow-minded and self-centred, full of race-prejudice and hatred. The Federation of the States of the World exalts it to those higher, freer regions above all the artificial boundaries which keep the world in a state of constant friction. It does not aim at international brotherhood. It is based merely on international interest. It only gives expression to the idea which this war has tended to quicken in all of us, that all our existences, no matter how widely we may be separated from one another, have, thanks to the evolution of technical science, become interrelated for better and for worse. With finance and commerce as absolutely international powers, the welfare of the man of commerce in New York and of the artisan in Holland have become intertwined, even though they be unaware of each other’s existence. This war has shown how the world has grown into a real unity. And if we are to deal with its evils, we shall have to deal with them on the basis of this same unity.