milder counsels among the French and a spirit of more genuine coöperation with Great Britain than had obtained since the armistice in 1918. Toward promoting this desirable result, the United States cannot present official claim. But informally the diplomacy of a private citizen has undoubtedly contributed to restore in Europe the prestige of America, so greatly weakened by precipitate abandonment of our allies, and our failure to share with them in the responsibilities arising from the war.1

This peace activity of General Dawes added to his warwon laurels and contributed to his availability as candidate for the Vice Presidency of the United States. Thus foreign relations interact to-day, as they have so frequently done in the past, with concerns that to all appearances are domestic. The European accomplishments of the General were a party asset when the American voter was urged to return to power a party laboring under liabilities incurred by the corrupt politicians who in Harding's lifetime exploited for their selfish ends the friendship of the President.

As the Harding-Coolidge Administration closed one wondered whether reconstruction had been accomplished. The Civil War continued as a disturbing factor till 1877, twelve years after Lee laid down his sword. But that was an internal struggle more visibly affecting the nation's life than did the recent war. There was room for hope, at any rate, that the next four years would behold a steady progress toward a diplomacy which should recognize America's membership in the community of nations and, lifting the question of the League of Nations, the World Court, or any special formula of world coöperation out of the mire of partisan politics, advance toward the goal of efficient citizenship in the new world order. The discrediting of Henry Cabot Lodge from the inner councils of the Republican Party, and the quiet but steady emphasis of both Harding and Coolidge on the necessity for America's entry into the World Court, were an augury, in fact, that the World War was not fought in vain, but that out of its desolation and

17 "Report of the Reparations Experts, with text of Dawes Report." Current History Magazine, New York Times, XX, pp. 263-294.

horror a new era was emerging in which the crimes of international anarchy are destined to give way before the light of world opinion politically organized and capable of expression. This is hope, not certainty; prophecy, not history, but the diplomacy of Harding and Coolidge, unspectacular though it has been, suggests its ultimate fulfillment.

W

CHAPTER XXIX

WHAT LIES AHEAD

THAT conclusions may a citizen derive from a survey of our foreign policy? Should it minister to his pride or cause searchings of the heart? Will he see in the operations of our State Department an overruling Providence? Will he accept Manifest Destiny as a necessary slogan? Will he attribute the action of Americans at the leading crises of our history to the determining influence of their heroes and great men? Or will he yield to a belief that all our decisions made apparently of our own volition were but the resultant equation of a parallelogram of forces whose origin and nature transcend all definition and to man himself seem blind?

The citizen's reaction to political phenomena will be determined by his own experience and philosophy. The events of American history can be marshaled to support whatever conclusion he prefers. If he is naturally reverent, he will find warrant for confidence in an overruling Providence. For American diplomacy, like other avenues of American activity, has undoubtedly been richly blessed. If he is objective in his search, proving nothing, but observing, he will note a marvelous growth in strength, a towering from infancy to manhood. But not committed to the Providence idea, he will seek for forces of decay, will balance strength and weakness and wonder possibly what future dangers will beset our path of empire.

Whatever the citizen's philosophy, be it objective or subjective, he will find in the thread of American diplomacy an extraordinary continuity. Diplomacy from 1783 to 1815 was a steadfast assertion of independence newly won and not completed till the War of 1812 had established our position on the sea. The Monroe Doctrine is perhaps most

accurately viewed as an extension of this independence to an intercontinental scope. Monroe served notice, and his successors reiterated it, that America would protect herself against threats aimed at her welfare from whichever continent directed. As thus construed the Monroe Doctrine has necessarily endured and will endure so long as the United States remain a nation.

Coördinate with independence as a motivating force in American experience has been expansion. Much diplomacy has focused on territorial acquisitions. Louisiana, Florida, Texas, Oregon, the Gadsden Purchase, Alaska, Samoa, Hawaii, the Philippines and Porto Rico, Panama, and finally the Virgin Islands are landmarks late or early in the enlargement of our territory. Each has occupied the State Department in the acquiring or maintaining. And the creation of a continental empire and then of an overseas dominion has familiarized Americans with all the problems of imperialism.

Seeking for the ultimate mainspring of our foreign policy, the citizen will find it in enlightened selfishness. The nature of governments is selfish. The individual citizen may frequently indulge in generosity. His immediate necessities once gratified, he seeks a subtle satisfaction in diminishing the misery of others in order that his own prosperity may seem less odious by contrast, and less offensive to the Gods. But nations by their very nature are less capable of altruism. The nation exists for the benefit of its own citizens. It is their machinery for effective action. For a nation to neglect the interests of its citizens is to belie its mission.

With selfishness a primal urge, that nation is civilized indeed which adequately realizes that its own welfare is bound up with the welfare of the world. Only the most prosperous and enlightened nations ever rise to such a concept. The traditions of diplomacy look to national aggrandizement at the expense of other nations. The citizen may therefore feel a justifiable pride when he finds his country in the rôle of benefactor.

To the American several incidents in his diplomatic history minister to this pride. True the generous impulse has

always been the wise one, and the benefactor has been so truly benefited that one inclines to suspect his motives as selfish after all. But without too critical a dissection one may admire the policy that fought for Cuba, and then left Cuba free, subject only to the Platt Amendment. Also one may feel a thrill that the Boxer Indemnity was partially refunded, and furnishes the nucleus for Chinese education in American schools.

These are positive expressions of magnanimous diplomacy. Less easily demonstrated because negative, are very numerous illustrations of national self-restraint in dealings with the weaker nations, particularly Mexico and other Latin neighbors. Irritation has been frequent; temptation has been strong. At almost any time since Diaz was overthrown, Mexico might have been our prey. Our refusal to take advantage of a neighbor's weakness has demonstrated a measure of idealism.

Our diplomacy in first avoiding and then entering the World War defies reduction to a formula. Primarily, of course, it served the nation's welfare. Neutrality was traditional, it was the path of least resistance, and it was profitable. But German pressure and the imminent collapse of Europe exposed America without allies to face a Europe Germanized. Our answer was dictated by self-interest, and yet Mr. George Harvey belied the nation's spirit when he told his British hosts that this was all that brought us into war. Americans as individuals were fired with ever mounting indignation at the war's barbarities, and the spirit thus developed influenced diplomacy as such.

To most students the philosophy of history is subordinate to human interest in its characters. The record of American diplomacy is here particularly inspiring. The subtle yet idealistic Jefferson, the pompous Pickering, the quietly efficient Madison, the unlucky Monroe, and the querulous but capable John Quincy Adams, gave to the initial stages of American diplomacy an extraordinary impetus. Of equal interest with these pioneers, Van Buren, Webster, Calhoun, Buchanan, Marcy, and Cass upheld the State Department's record for character and talent. In the Civil War, Seward,