Part 1

Chapter 14,330 wordsPublic domain

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MY TWO COUNTRIES

LADY ASTOR

GARDEN CITY NEW YORK

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

1923

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES

THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.

_First Edition_

AMERICA

I[A]

“_I can conceive of nothing worse than a man-governed world--except a woman-governed world._”

I know that this welcome has nothing to do with me. Ever since I first entered the Mother of Parliaments I realised that I had ceased to be a person and had become a symbol. The safe thing about being a symbol is this--you realise that you of yourself can do nothing, but what you symbolise gives you courage and strength, and should give you wisdom. I certainly have been given courage and strength. I won’t say too much about wisdom.

My entrance into the House of Commons was not, as some thought, in the nature of a revolution. It was simply evolution. It is interesting how it came about. My husband was the one who started me off on this downward career--from home to the House. If I have helped the cause of women, he is the one to thank--not me. He is a strange and remarkable man. First, it was strange to urge his wife to take up public life, especially as he is a most domesticated creature; but the truth is, he is a born social reformer. He has avoided the pitfalls which so many well-to-do men fall into. He doesn’t think that you can right wrongs with philanthropy. He realises that you must go to the bottom of the causes of wrongs and not simply gild over the top. For eleven years I had helped him with his work at Plymouth. Mine was the personal side. I found out the wrongs and he tried to right them. It was a wonderful and happy combination, and I often wish that it was still going on. However, I am not here to tell you of his work, but it is interesting in so far as it shows you how it came about that I stood for Parliament at all. Unless he had been the kind of man that he was, I don’t believe that the first woman Member of the oldest Parliament in the world would have come from Plymouth--and that would have been a pity.

Plymouth is an ideal port to sail from or to. It has bidden “God Speed” to so many voyagers. I felt that I was embarking on a voyage of faith, but when I arrived at my destination some of the Honourable Members looked upon me more as a pirate than a Pilgrim! A woman in the House of Commons! It was almost enough to have broken up the House. I don’t blame them, but it was as hard on the woman as it was on them. Pioneers may be picturesque figures, but they are often rather lonely ones. I must say though, for the House of Commons, they bore their shock with dauntless decency. No body of men could have been kinder and fairer than they were. When you hear people over here trying to run down England, please remember that England first gave the vote to women, and that the men of England welcomed an American-born woman in the House with a fairness and justice which this woman, at least, will never forget.

Different Members received me in different ways. I shall never forget a Scottish Labour man coming up to me, after I had been in the House a little time, and telling me that I wasn’t a bit the sort of woman he thought I was going to be; and on being pressed as to what kind of woman he thought I would be, said, “I’ll not tell you that, but I know now that you are an ordinary, homely kind of woman”; and he has proved it since by often asking my advice on domestic questions. Then the Irishman--an Irish Member once said to me, “I don’t know what you are going to speak about, but I am here to back you.” The last was a regular old Noah’s Ark man, a typical English Squire type. After two years and a half of never agreeing on any point with me, he remarked to someone that I “was a very stupid woman, but he must add, a very attractive one,” and he feared I was a thoroughly honest social reformer. I might add that, being the first woman, I had to take up many causes which no one would call exactly popular. I also had to go against the prejudice of generations, but I must say their courtesy has never failed, though my Parliamentary manners must have been somewhat of a trial.

Now I must leave the more personal side and get to what it is all about, and why we are here.

Some women have always been in politics, and not done badly either. It was when we had the Lancastrian kings that it was said that kings were made by Act of Parliament--they ruled by means of Parliament. Then Henry VIII accepted the principle of the Lancastrians to rule by Parliament, but he used that principle in an entirely different way. He made Parliament the engine of his will, he pressed or frightened it into doing anything he wished. Under his guidance Parliament defied and crushed all other powers spiritual and temporal, and he did things which no king or Parliament had ever attempted to do, things unheard of and terrible. Then Elizabeth came along. It is true she scolded her Parliaments for meddling with matters with which, in her opinion, they had no concern, and more than once soundly rated the Speaker of the Commons, but she never carried her quarrels too far, and was able to end her disputes by clever compromise; in other words, she never let Parliament down, and that is what I don’t believe any wise woman will do, in spite of the fears of some of the men.

Now why are we in politics? What is it all about? Something much bigger than ourselves. Schopenhauer was wrong in nearly everything he wrote about women--and he wrote a lot--but he was right in one thing. He said, in speaking of women, “The race is to her more than the individual,” and I believe that it is true. I feel somehow we do care about the race as a whole; our very natures makes us take a forward vision. There is no reason why women should look back. Mercifully, we have no political past; we have all the mistakes of one-sex legislation, with its appalling failures, to guide us. We should know what to avoid. It is no use blaming the men--we made them what they are--and now it is up to us to try and make ourselves--the makers of men--a little more responsible. We realise that no one sex can govern alone. I believe that one of the reasons why civilisation has failed so lamentably is that it has had one-sided government. Don’t let us make the mistake of ever allowing that to happen again. I can conceive of nothing worse than a man-governed world--except a woman-governed world--but I can see the combination of the two going forward, and making civilisation, more worthy of the name of civilisation based on Christianity, not on force--a civilisation based on justice and mercy. I feel men have a greater sense of justice, and we of mercy. They must borrow our mercy and we must use their justice.

We are new brooms. Let us see that we sweep the right rooms. Personally, I feel that every woman should take an active part in local government. I don’t mean by that, that every woman should go in for a political career--that, of course, would be absurd; but you can take an active part in local government without going in for a political career. You can be certain when casting your vote that you are casting it for what seems nearest right--for what seems more likely to help the majority and not to bolster up an organised minority. There is a lot to be done in local politics, and it is a fine apprenticeship for central government; it is very practical, but I think that, although practical, it is too near to be attractive. The things that are far away are more apt to catch our imagination than the ones which are just under our noses, and then, they are often less disagreeable.

Political development is like all other development. We must begin with ourselves, our own consciousness, and clean out our own hearts before we take on the job of putting others straight. So with politics. If we women put our hands to local politics, we must begin with the foundations. After all, central governments only echo local ones; the politician in Washington, if he is a wise man, will always have one eye on his constituency. Let us make that constituency so clean, so straight, so high in its purpose, that the man from home will not dare to take a small, limited view about any question, be it a national or an international one. You must remember that what women are up against is not what they see, but the unseen forces. We are up against generations and generations of prejudice. Ever since Eve ate the apple--but I would like to remind you, and all men, why she ate the apple. It was not simply because it was good for food or pleasant to the eyes: it was from a tree whose fruit would make one wise--“She took of the fruit thereof and did eat, and gave unto her husband with her and he did eat.” We have no record of Adam murmuring against the fruit--of his doing anything but eat it with docility. In passing, also, I would like to say that the first time Adam had a chance he laid the blame on woman--however, we will leave Adam.

Ever since woman’s consciousness has looked beyond the material, man’s consciousness has feared her vaguely; he has gone to her for inspiration, he has relied on her for all that is best and most ideal in his life, yet by sheer material force he has limited her. The Western man has, without knowing it, Westernised the harem mind of the East. I don’t believe he knows it yet, so we must break it to him gently. We must go on being his guide, his mother, and his better half. But we must prove to him that we are a necessary half, not only in private, but in political life. The best way that we can do that is to show him that our ambitions are not personal. Let men see that we desire a better, safer, and cleaner world for our children and their children, and that we believe that it is only by doing our bit, by facing unclean things with cleanliness, by facing wrongs with right, by going fearlessly into all things that may be disagreeable, that we will, somehow, make this a little better world. I don’t know that we are going to do this--I don’t say that women will change the world, but I do say that they can if they want to. Coming, as I do, from the Old World which has seen a devastating war, I cannot face the future without this hope--that the women of all countries will do their duty and raise a generation of men and women who will look upon war and all that leads to it with as much horror as we now look upon a cold-blooded murder. If we want this new world, we can get it only by striving for it; and the real struggle will be within ourselves, to put out of our hearts and of our thoughts, all that makes for war, hate, envy, greed, pride, force, and material ambition.

II[B]

“_I seem a symbol--a sort of connecting link between the English-speaking people!_”

I am not really afraid to speak here to-night. I was a little afraid last night--I didn’t know quite whether New York audiences would be as kind as Plymouth audiences. I see that they are much the same. They forgive any shortcomings in the way of scholarly attainments or oratorical orations when they see that you are speaking from your heart. I usually do speak from my heart. It has been a safer guide to me than my head, and here to-night it’s easy; for surely no people on earth have understood a woman’s heart better than the English-speaking nations.

Last night I told the Women Voters that I was not a person, but a symbol; to-night I still seem a symbol--a sort of connecting link between the English-speaking people, a frail link, perhaps, but a link that is stronger than it looks. It is a strange thing that England’s first woman Member of Parliament should have come from England’s first colony. I doubt if the first English woman to land in Virginia was less expected on these shores, than the first Virginian woman to land in the House of Commons was expected on that floor. However, in spite of having neither beads nor fire-water, the natives were amazingly kind to that Virginian settler. It is all very picturesque when one thinks of it historically, but it seems very ordinary when it is done. History, I think, is more romantic to read than to make, and I apologise now to future little schoolgirls for having added another question to the endless ones which still haunt me when my mind turns back to the long list of historical personages, varying from Lucretia Borgia down to Susan B. Anthony.

I have been asked what my visit here was for. Cannot a person come home without being suspected of deep and ulterior motives? I may tell you at once, I am not on a mission to promote a better understanding between England and America. No person, however keen about it, can do much in that line. Things which are worth while are made by something better than missions or treaties. They are made only by great ideals in the hearts of the common people.

I don’t believe that trade agreements will succeed in promoting a better understanding. But I do say that if the greatest commonwealth of nations the world has ever seen and the greatest federation of states the world has ever known cannot be brought together by some common cause, some human hope and purpose, then I, personally, should feel like the Queen of Sheba--the spirit would go out of me. I do believe that these two nations are bound together by a common cause; and that cause, one of human hope and purpose, is peace on earth and good-will toward all men.

The Washington Conference was not a surprise to me. I knew that England was not a militarist nation any more than America was, and I knew, too, that once they talked things over they would see the utter futility of building battleships against one another. America and England should have the largest fleets because they will certainly use them more as policemen than as fighting forces. After all, when England had the greatest navy in the world she never used it except to keep the freedom of the seas. I often wonder whether Imperialist Germany might not have treated the Monroe Doctrine like a scrap of paper had her fleet been the strongest in the world. However, I don’t want to go back to an ancient grudge. It’s hopeless trying to go forward when you are looking backward. It is a great mistake to keep such things alive; it only means trouble, and surely there is enough trouble in the world now without looking backward.

America, I am told, draws back with horror when she looks at Europe. I don’t blame her. Certainly, it is a sad enough sight to make one draw back. I cannot believe, though, that standing back is the right way to help, and I don’t believe that any part of the world can go forward in the truest sense while another part is suffering desperately. The war has shown us that the world is really round and is part interdependent. I am struck more and more by the way in which our stock of moral good-will on both sides is still thwarted by the extent of our misunderstanding.

This not only hinders the recovery of hundreds of millions of people from all the mischiefs of war, but works new mischief of its own. I am thinking now, not so much of America and Britain, who have had their heart-to-heart explanations at the Washington Conference, with an effect which ought to make their relations foolproof, in spite of the small people who are so blinded by their fear or envy and hate, that they would do all in their power to pull them apart. But I am not afraid of them. I am only sorry for them. There is nothing more pitiful than people who are moved by envy or hate, and there is nothing weaker than people who fear. Envy and hate are the most blinding things on earth; it is only people with vision who never perish. When I talk of misunderstanding I am thinking of Europe.

I know that both America and England feel that Europe is not getting on with the peace, that she still has large armies, still fights, and at the same time cries out for help. Russia and France still have great armies, and this naturally makes smaller states arm too. Of course it is all desperately disappointing to some of us. We had hoped that this was a war to end wars--I think it has ended the biggest wars, yet there seem to be a few small private wars going on, and still a great deal of fear and hatred left. I am sure that you will never end war with wars.

I believe that the safest and surest way to get out of war is to join some sort of league of nations. That misrepresented and much despised League has already prevented three small wars, it has registered over one hundred treaties, has repatriated nearly four hundred thousand prisoners--not a bad record for only half a league. I think it is enough to make every woman in America want to join it in some form or other, certainly any of those who have had sons in the war. It is the memory of the anguish of the mothers and fathers who watched for four years which gives me the courage to speak plainly here to-night. You see, the anguish in a mother’s heart is felt in all other mothers’ hearts over the world, even though they be enemy mothers. If this is true, mothers in any country can be members. I was told to be careful. Why careful? Of what? I have not anything to say that could hurt any one in America, and I only want to try and help the thousands of people in less fortunate countries than America. Anyhow, I do believe that America likes people to say what they mean and care about.

No one could say that America does not care about Europe. Look at the way the American Relief Committee is helping Russia. It is the admiration of the whole of England; often I have heard it referred to in the House of Commons. Yet I don’t believe that the greatest philanthropy in the world can add much to the permanent reconstruction of the world, and that is what the world needs more now than anything--reconstruction. It is all very well to hear people talk of European entanglements, but the world is already tangled, and we have to think of a plan to disentangle ourselves. No one could think that English fathers and mothers--with nearly eight hundred thousand sons who will never return--would want to join in a League which would entangle them or any one else in war. The English know enough about wars never to want to fight or to see any one else have to fight. These mothers and fathers think, as I feel sure the fathers and mothers of America do, that the safest and sanest way to get out of wars is to join some sort of association of nations for peace. The Washington Conference shows us what can happen when great countries with great ideals get together. The difference between people with ideals and people without is simply the difference between Pagans and Christians--a Pagan is a man whose standard of right does not extend beyond his own interest. Now we Anglo-Saxons rather pride ourselves that our civilisation was built on Christianity. If that is the case, there is no doubt that a lot of Pagans have slipped in among us--perhaps they have also been proselytising. Don’t let us proselytise too far, don’t let us forget the faith of our forefathers. It must have taken a tremendous faith mixed with a double dose of courage to have crossed the Atlantic in a shell of a boat--yet they did. They were not Pagans. Civilisation has been nearly destroyed by Pagans. We cannot give them a second chance. It is wonderfully helpful to look back and see the kind of men in all countries who have made civilisation. They were not men who carried a grudge, they were not men who hated, but men with an inner consciousness of what man really is capable of, men who realised that life is redeemed only by a purpose bigger than themselves, and a love which passes all understanding.

III[C]

“_We must put into public life those qualities which women have had to put into their home life._”

It seems a strange thing to be here--but my life is a little like that of Alice in Wonderland. It gets curiouser and curiouser. When I sailed from Plymouth to the House of Commons, I may tell you frankly I didn’t half realise what the voyage would be like. I soon discovered that it was the kind of voyage which would take the spiritual faith of the Pilgrim Fathers and the courage of Sir Francis Drake. They both sailed from my port, and I have had to use both their courage and their faith.

However, I think women possess both courage and faith. When I speak of women I don’t mean every woman, I mean real women, women who care about real things--the sort of women who have not only borne men, but have given them such unselfish love that the world has seen, through them, a bit of what the love of God is like.

Now, if we possess courage and faith, it will be no use to us unless we use it. Faith is like a belief--it is only helpful if it leads us to knowledge. Belief in God will only help us if it leads us to knowledge of God.

So we women must turn to account some of this courage and faith. We must put into public life these qualities which women have had to and which they have rejoiced to put in their home life--unselfishness, cleanliness, and kindness. The world needs it. I don’t suppose the world as a whole was ever more in need of kindness than it is now.

We need not ask ourselves why the world needs help. You have got to cast your mind over the world and you will get the answer. Europe partly devastated and still hating. Russia starving; Capital and Labour, like nations, almost as far apart as ever before. I suppose this must be the aftermath of war. You can’t let Hell loose on earth for four years, and expect to find Paradise at the end.

Yet when I speak of war, I don’t mean that it was all hell. There was one aspect of war which was better than anything I have found in the aftermath of war. There was a sort of kindliness and pulling together among all classes of the population, and one felt that at last a Brotherhood of Men was coming about. At least, that is how it was in England, and I feel certain that it must have been the same over here.

A common purpose shared by a whole nation, if that purpose is one of sacrifice, idealism, and helpfulness, is a wonderful thing. Think what a common purpose shared by many nations--a purpose with an ideal and helpfulness and a sacrifice of self--would be. This is what the war should have left--and even though, I admit, it is not obvious, I cannot help believing that that common purpose remains--remains anyhow in the hearts of those who suffered and in the hearts of those who care.

I cannot speak for the women of Europe, but I think I can speak for the women of England, and I say that they, through suffering, have determined that so far as within them lies, there is no sacrifice too great to make for the cause of peace. I have seen the women of England when they were determined. I have seen them tried and not found wanting. I can tell you it was a glorious sight. You may read diaries of the war which tell of dinner parties and plenty in London; but that no more represents the women of England than a night dancing-club in New York or a red-light district in some city here represents the women of America.