Part 11
The horror of the Great War seems to have unhinged the European mind. Nations do not think normally. The blood pressure is still very high. The excitement over the Ruhr does not tend to improve it. When some of the articles written and speeches delivered to-day come to be read by the diligent historian a generation hence, he will recognise there the ravings of a continent whose mental equilibrium has been upset by a great shock. The real issue involved in all this struggle is a comparatively simple one. How much can Germany pay and in what way can she pay? America, Britain, Italy and Germany are all agreed that the only way to settle that question is to appoint competent experts to investigate and report upon it. The Pope also has blessed this reasonable suggestion. France, on the contrary, says it is a question to be determined by guns and generals--both equally well fitted for that task. Germany must present her accounts to the mitrailleuse and argue her case before the soixante-quinze. It is a mad world.
Every one is interested in one question--or perhaps two. How will it all end and how soon is that end coming? Although I have nothing to fear from recalling the predictions of my early articles on this subject, I hesitate to hazard a fresh forecast. But one may review the possibilities and note the drift of the whirling currents. In assessing the chances, you must begin with some knowledge of the man who will decide the event. M. Poincaré is possessed of undoubted ability and patriotism, but he is also a man who lives in a world of prejudices so dense that they obscure facts. You have but to turn to one statement in his last note where he says the conferences and ultimatums of the past four years secured nothing from Germany. What are the facts? During the three and a half years that preceded the Ruhr invasion, Germany paid to the Allies in cash and in kind over ten milliards of gold marks,--£500,000,000 in sterling, 2,000,000,000 in dollars--a considerable effort for a country which had but lately emerged out of the most exhausting of wars and whose foreign trade was down sixty to seventy per cent. You might imagine that a man who had taken the grave step of ordering armies to invade a neighbour's territories would also have taken the trouble to ascertain the elementary facts of his case. Part of this gigantic sum went to pay for Armies of Occupation; part for Reparations, but it all came out of German assets. Will the next three and a half years bring anything approximating that figure to the Allied coffers?
It is a safe statement to make that no one in charge of the French movements anticipated a resistance approaching in its stubbornness to that which they have encountered. The friendly Press, both in France and in England, foretold a speedy collapse of the German opposition, and on this assumption all the French plans were based. During the first days of the occupation an Englishman asked a French officer how long he thought it would take. The answer is indicative of the spirit in which the venture started: "Optimists think it will take a fortnight," he said; "pessimists think it may take three weeks." A reference to the January telegrams from Paris and Düsseldorf will show that this officer accurately expressed the general sentiment of those who were responsible for the Ruhr invasion. Soldiers estimate the chances of resistance in terms of material and trained men, and statesmen too often build their hopes on the same shallow foundation. They never allow for the indomitable reserves of the human heart, which do not figure in Army Lists or Statesmen's Annuals. The resistance of Paris in 1870 was as confounding to Bismarck as the stubbornness of the Ruhr miners is to Poincaré to-day. The last regular army had been destroyed, all docketed food stores exhausted, and still the struggle of the devoted citizens went on for months. There were few men in England who thought the Boer peasants could continue their resistance for more than three months after our armies reached South Africa. The three months ran into three years and only then capitulated on honourable terms. The Northern States of America never contemplated the possibility of a five years' struggle with a blockaded, starved and overwhelmed Confederacy. The War of 1914-18 is littered with miscalculations attributable to the blind refusal of rulers and their advisers to recognise the moral element as a factor in the reckoning. The Ruhr tragedy is not the first, nor indeed may it be the last, to be initiated by facile memoranda framed by General Staffs and civilian functionaries, drawing their inspiration from pigeonholes.
Whatever may transpire in the Ruhr it is already clear that the estimates of military men, of transport officials, of intelligence departments, and of presiding Ministers, have been hopelessly falsified. Many more soldiers have been sent into the Ruhr than had been thought necessary: a great deal less coal has come out of the Ruhr than had been confidently expected. There are already as many Frenchmen in the Ruhr as Napoleon commanded at Waterloo; and they have succeeded in sending across the frontier in six months only as much coal as the Germans delivered in one month during the period of "default" which provoked the invasion. Desperate efforts have been made at great cost to increase the yield with a view to satisfying French and foreign opinion that resistance is gradually breaking down. Rubbish is shovelled into wagons in order anyhow to swell the quota. Coal is seized anywhere, even in the streets. And Monsieur Trocquer, the bluff and genial Breton in charge of the transport arrangements, breezily challenges all the critics to look at the mounting pyramids of his dustcart collection and rejoice with him in the triumph of French organisation under his control. Alas, the Celtic fire of Monsieur Trocquer, even when fed by the sweepings of the Ruhr, cannot keep going the blast furnaces of Lorraine! So we find disappointment and discontent amongst the forge-masters of France.
But there is a limit to human endurance. Either France or Germany must give way in the end. Which will it be, and when will it come--and how? In answering these questions one must remember that for France the honour of her flag is involved in success. Failure would irretrievably damage her prestige. Every Frenchman knows that. That is why French statesmen who disapprove of the invasion support the Government in all their proposals for bringing it to a successful end. And here France has a legitimate complaint against her Allies. It is useless for Italy now to counsel wisdom. Signor Mussolini was present at the "hush Conference" which sanctioned the invasion. He fixed the price of assent in coal tonnage. That price has been regularly paid. Belgium is now becoming scared at the swelling magnitude of the venture. But she committed her own honour as well as that of France to carrying it through. I regret to think that Britain is not free from responsibility in the matter. It is true that her representatives disapproved of the enterprise, but not on grounds of right or justice. On the contrary, whilst expressing grave doubt as to the ultimate success of the invasion they wished the French Government well in the undertaking on which they were about to embark. Not one of the Allies is in a position with a clean conscience to urge France to haul down her flag. There is only one course which could be urged on the French Government as being consistent with French honour, and that is the reference of the dispute to the League of Nations. Such a reference would be an enforcement of the Treaty of Versailles. That suggestion the British Government have refused to press on France. The struggle must, therefore, proceed to its destined end.
It may be assumed that the British Government will not intervene effectively. How about the ministerial declarations? Surely these strong words must be followed by strong action! Those who rely on that inference know nothing of the men who use the words or of the forces upon which they depend for their ministerial existence. It is true that some weeks ago Mr. Snodgrass took off his coat and proclaimed cryptically, but fearlessly, that unless peace was restored on his terms something would happen. The French Government, unperturbed, replied that they meant to persist in their course. So last week Mr. Snodgrass takes off his waistcoat. But do not be alarmed: there will be no blows: his friends will hold him back. Meanwhile, Mr. Winkle has left for Paris in order to lunch with one of the combatants. Next week he will be followed by Mr. Pickwick, who will call on another, and the week after Mr. Tupman proposes to pay another propitiatory visit. It will be an incalculable advantage to M. Poincaré that they each represent a different and conflicting point of view. The French have accurately taken the measure of the mind and muscle of those who indulge in these spectacular exhibitions of ball punching in Westminster with cakes and ale at Rambouillet. We may therefore assume that whatever conversations take place at these general gatherings or ensue from them, the French will not be talked out of the Ruhr.
From the emphatic declarations made by the head of the French Government it is gathered that France will insist at all costs on enforcing her will. She has put forward two demands. The first is that Germany shall abandon passive resistance as an essential preliminary to negotiation. The second is that her forces should remain in the Ruhr until the last payment is made. Will the German Government accept these conditions? A settlement on these terms is only possible on two assumptions. The first is that a German Government can be found strong enough to accept them and to survive their acceptance. The second is that there is a French Government wise enough to give a liberal interpretation to these demands. The first depends to a large extent on the second.
The events of the past few months have added immeasurably to the difficulties of negotiation. Incidents inseparable from a foreign occupation in any land have exasperated German opinion and reached depths of hatred which had never been stirred even by the Great War--the deportation of 75,000 Germans from their homes in the Ruhr area, the repression, the shooting, the starving, the holding up of food trains until essential supplies rot. The myriad insolences of unchallengeable force, the passions which make French policy so intractable are entirely attributable to the German occupation of France. Frenchmen are now sowing the same seeds of anger in the German breast. Hatreds are bad negotiators. That is why I despair of a real settlement.
But Germany may collapse. She might even break up, temporarily. The authority of the Central Government has already largely disappeared. There is practically no collection of taxes. The mark has gone down in a little over a week from 1,000,000 to the £ to 27,000,000.[3] How can any Government collect taxes in such a fugitive and attenuated currency? You might as well try to collect land taxes on the tail of a comet. The state of the currency is but a symptom of the general disintegration. Berlin has ceased to wield any influence in Bavaria, and the Monarchy might be restored in that Province at no distant date. There is a movement in the Rhineland to set up a Republic freed from the dominion of Prussia. This movement is fostered by French agencies and financed by French subventions. If it is declared Prussia will not be allowed to suppress it. We may, therefore, soon witness a Rhineland Republic whose glorious freedom and independence will be jealously guarded against internal as well as external foes by the coloured warriors of Senegal and Cochin-China. Saxony might be captured by Communists and Prussia be torn between Monarchist and Communist. These are not unlikely happenings. Is it too much to say they are not altogether out of the computation of French statesmanship? If Germany dissolves, then the Rhineland and the Ruhr would remain under the dominion of France. France would not secure reparations, but she would enjoy security, and she would, so it is conjectured, enormously enhance her power in the world. An old French dream would be realised. The work of Bismarck would be undone and the achievement of Napoleon would be restored and perpetuated. There is an old Welsh adage which says that it is easy to kindle a fire on an old hearthstone. This idea of a Rhineland under French domination is the old hearthstone of Charlemagne. Mazarin sought to relight its flames. Napoleon the First kindled on it a blaze that scorched Europe. Napoleon the Third had hopes of warming his chilling fortunes at the glow of its embers, and now the great victory of 1918 has set French ambitions once more reviving the fires on the old hearthstone of a Rhineland ruled by the Frank.
Altogether it is a bad look-out for Europe.
_London, August 6th, 1923._
FOOTNOTE:
[3] Since this was written the mark has fallen far beyond.
XIX
IS IT PEACE?
The Charleville speech[4] and M. Poincaré's reply to Lord Curzon's despatch[5] leave things exactly where they were. Rumour said the reply would be long and logical. For once rumour hath not lied. M. Poincaré regards this exchange of bolstered notes as a pillow fight which he is quite prepared to prolong in order to gain time whilst the real struggle is developing to its destined end. The prominence given in the press to the fact that this rigid reply is "courteous" is significant of the pitiable condition to which the Entente has been brought by these maladroit negotiations.
What will Mr. Stanley Baldwin and Lord Curzon do next? Much depends for Europe on that next step, and something for them also hangs upon their action or inaction. One is reminded of the answer given by Émile Ollivier to the question addressed to him as to his opinion of one of Napoleon the Third's experiments in constitutional government: "Si c'est une fin, vous êtes perdu; si c'est un commencement, vous êtes fondé." That sage comment is equally applicable to the Curzon note.
We can only "wait and see," first for the French official reply, and second for the decision of the British Government upon that note. The only new factor in the situation that may have a determining influence on events is the accession of Herr Stresemann to the German Chancellorship.[6] I know nothing of him beyond newspaper report, but he is generally supposed to be a man of energy, courage and resource. If that be true, his appointment to the official leadership of the German people may be an event of the first magnitude. We shall soon know what he is made of. Germany has suffered more from weak or misguided leadership in recent years than any great country in the world. It blundered her into the War, it blundered through the War, it blundered into the armistice, it blundered during the peace negotiations, and it has blundered her affairs badly after the peace. But no one can predict what Germany is capable of with a wise and strong leadership. Herr Stresemann has a responsibility cast upon him and an opportunity afforded him such as have not been given to any statesman since the days of Stein and his coadjutors for regenerating his country and lifting her out of the slough of despond in which she has been sinking deeper and deeper. Those who ignore the effect which powerful and magnetic personalities may have upon the fortunes of nations in despair must have forgotten their history books. The fall of Dr. Cuno and the rise of Herr Stresemann may well turn out to be a more decisive event than the despatch or the publication of the Curzon note. But if he lacks those rare qualities which alone can inspire a people in an emergency to heroic action and endurance, then there is nothing but chaos ahead of Germany. For the moment it is more important to keep a discerning eye on Herr Stresemann than to watch this endless fencing between Downing Street and the Quai d'Orsay.
It is not often I find myself in agreement with M. Poincaré, but when he states that British unemployment is not attributable to the occupation of the Ruhr I am substantially in accord with him. In July last[7] I called the attention of the House of Commons to world conditions which injuriously affected our export trade and made unemployment on a large scale inevitable in the British labour market for some time to come. We are more dependent on our overseas trade, export, entrepôt, shipping and incidental business than any country in the world. Almost half our industrial and commercial activities are associated with outside trade in all its forms. That is not a full statement of the case, for if this important section of our business were to languish, the home trade would also necessarily suffer by the consequential diminution in the purchasing capacity of our people. Before the French ever entered the Ruhr our overseas trade was down to 75 per cent. of its pre-war level. Our population has increased by two millions since 1913; our taxation has increased fourfold; our national debt tenfold; but our business is down 25 per cent. To what is this fall in our outside sales and services attributable? It is the direct consequence of the War. Our customers throughout Europe are impoverished. What is just as bad, our customers' customers are impoverished. So that neither can buy at our stalls the quantities or the qualities which they could be relied upon to purchase before the War. Until Europe can buy, Australia, Canada, India and China cannot pay, as the Prime Minister pointed out in his last speech in the House of Commons. Germany, before the War, bought Australian wool, Canadian grain, Indian jute and tea, and the proceeds as often as not went to pay for goods bought by those countries in British markets. The same observation applies to Russia, Austria, and the Levantine countries. The purchasing capacity of Europe must, therefore, be replenished, a process which will, at best, take years of patient industry. The mischief of the Ruhr lies not in the creation of bad trade, but in retarding the process of recovery. It has undoubtedly had that effect.
Before the French entered the Ruhr trade was gradually if slowly improving all round. The prices of 1922 were lower than those of 1921; therefore, the contrast in sterling was not as apparent as it became on the examination of weights and measures. The export figures, notably in manufactured goods, show a decided increase on those of the preceding year. This advance is reflected in the statistics of unemployment. During the first ten months of 1922 there was a reduction of over 500,000 in the numbers of the registered unemployed. The succeeding ten months give only a slight improvement. Something has happened to arrest the rate of progress towards better times. This is where the Ruhr comes in. Even if it is not, to quote the Prime Minister, a penknife stuck in the watch and stopping the works, it is certainly more than a grain of dust which has perceptibly slowed the action of the sensitive machinery of trade.
The effect of the Ruhr disturbance would continue for some time if the penknife were removed now. For the moment M. Poincaré is wedging it in more deeply and firmly. Even if he withdrew it now, the works would not recover their normal steadiness for a long while. During these last disturbing months Germany has become appreciably poorer. Her wealth production has been depressed throughout most of her industrial areas. To a certain extent Lorraine and Belgium have also been affected adversely. The reservoir of wealth upon which industry draws has not been filling up as it ought if the world is ever to recover.
These things are hidden from France. She is a more self-contained country than Britain--perhaps also a more self-centred country. Even after the Napoleonic wars, which drained her best manhood and exhausted her fine nervous virility, she suffered from no interval of economic depression. Her great and victorious rival across the Channel lumbered painfully through fifteen years of misery, poverty and distress. Her own population, basking in the sunshine of prosperity, regarded across the narrow waters, with a natural contentment, the dark fogs that enveloped and drenched their old enemies. Commiseration or sympathy from them at that time was not to be expected. We had fought them for twenty years with an inveterate pertinacity and at last beaten them to the ground and occupied their capital. To-day we suffer because we helped to save their capital from foreign occupation and their country from being humbled to the dust by a foreign foe. Neither in French speeches, notes, nor articles is there any appreciation shown of that cardinal fact in the situation.
All that is clear at the moment is the stubbornness of the French attitude. M. Poincaré has not so far receded one millimetre from his original position. Threats and cajoleries alike are answered by a repetition of the same formulæ, with the slight variations in word or phrase which one would expect from a practised writer. But the theme is always the same and the application is identical to the point of monotony. He is not winning much coal out of his discourses and literary exercises, but to do him justice he is getting something for his country. Last year Lord Balfour, in the note he sent to the Allies on behalf of the British Government, offered to forego all claims for debts and reparations if Britain were secured against payment of the American debt. That meant a surrender of claims aggregating over £3,000,000,000 in return for an assured £1,000,000,000. A very handsome and generous offer. The Curzon note proposes to surrender all our claims for a precarious return of £710,000,000. The Ruhr occupation has already brought down the British claim against the Allies by £290,000,000. M. Poincaré may not be able to extract reparations out of Germany, but in seven months he has succeeded in forcing £290,000,000 out of Great Britain. He will certainly ask for more--and probably receive it.
Mr. Bonar Law was right when he said that under certain conditions Great Britain would be the only country to pay a war indemnity. Those conditions have arisen under his successors.
_Criccieth, August 20th, 1923._
FOOTNOTES:
[4] M. Poincaré's speech at Charleville on August 19th, on the subject of French policy in the Ruhr.
[5] The British note was sent to France, August 13th, 1923, and M. Poincaré's reply was received on August 23rd.
[6] The German Government fell on August 13th, 1923, and Herr Stresemann succeeded Dr. Cuno as Chancellor.
[7] House of Commons, July 16th, 1923.
XX
WHAT NEXT?[8]
The pen-and-ink joust is suspended for a fortnight, whilst the figures of British unemployment are leaping upwards. When the exhausted British knights have been reinvigorated by French waters they will once more charge full tilt at the French champion--at least, they will have made up their minds by then whether they will shiver another fountain-pen against his blotting-pad.
This is the advice ponderously and pompously tendered them in inspired articles. So far, the French nation is jubilant that M. Poincaré has scored heavily on points. He is a defter penman, and, moreover, he does not delegate his draughtsmanship to a Committee of Ministers, all holding irreconcilable views as to how to proceed, when to proceed, and whither to proceed, and amongst whom there is no agreement except on one point--that no one quite knows what action to propose.