In the post-Victorian epoch, which we have been engaged in considering, the aim of British foreign policy may be summed up in one word—Security. It was not aggression; it was not revenge; it was not conquest, or even expansion of territories; it was simply Security.
It would be absurd, of course, to imagine that security is wholly, or even mainly, a question of military preparations. "All this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, where the people are of weak courage;" or where for any reason, the people are divided among themselves or disaffected towards their government.
The defences of every nation are of two kinds, the organised and the unorganised; the disciplined strength of the Navy and the Army on the one hand, the vigour and spirit of the people upon the other.
The vigour of the people will depend largely upon the conditions under which they live, upon sufficiency of food, the healthiness or otherwise of their employments and homes, the proper nourishment and upbringing of their children. It is not enough that rates of wages should be good, if those who earn them {224} have not the knowledge how to use them to the best advantage. It is not always where incomes are lowest that the conditions of life are worst. Measured by infant mortality, and by the health and general happiness of the community, the crofters of Scotland, who are very poor, seem to have learned the lesson how to live better than the highly paid workers in many of our great manufacturing towns.
Education—by which is meant not merely board-school instruction, but the influence of the home and the surrounding society—is not a less necessary condition of vigour than wages, sanitary regulations, and such like. The spiritual as well as the physical training of children, the nature of their amusements, the bent of their interests, the character of their aims and ideals, at that critical period when the boy or girl is growing into manhood or womanhood—all these are things which conduce directly, as well as indirectly, to the vigour of the race. They are every bit as much a part of our system of national defence as the manoeuvring of army corps and the gun-practice of dreadnoughts.
The spirit of the people, on the other hand, will depend for its strength upon their attachment to their own country; upon their affection for its customs, laws, and institutions; upon a belief in the general fairness and justice of its social arrangements; upon the good relations of the various classes of which society is composed. The spirit of national unity is indispensable even in the case of the most powerful autocracy. It is the very foundation of democracy. Lacking it, popular government is but a house of cards, which the first serious challenge from without, or the first strong outburst of {225} discontent from within will bring tumbling to the ground. Such a feeling of unity can only spring from the prevalence of an opinion among every class of the community, that their own system, with all its faults, is better suited to their needs, habits, and traditions than any other, and that it is worth preserving, even at the cost of the greatest sacrifices, from foreign conquest and interference.
A TWO-HEADED PRINCIPLE
While a people sapped by starvation and disease will be wanting in the vigour necessary for offering a prolonged and strenuous resistance, so will a people, seething with class hatred and a sense of tyranny and injustice, be wanting in the spirit. The problem, however, of these unorganised defences, fundamental though it is, stands outside the scope of the present chapter, which is concerned solely with those defences which are organised.
The beginning of wisdom with respect to all problems of defence is the recognition of the two-headed principle that Policy depends on Armaments just as certainly as Armaments depend on Policy.
The duty of the Admiralty and the War Office is to keep their armaments abreast of the national endeavour. It is folly to do more: it is madness to do less. The duty of the Foreign Minister is to restrain and hold back his policy, and to prevent it from ambitiously outrunning the capacity of the armaments which are at his disposal. If he does otherwise the end is likely to be humiliation and disaster.
When any nation is unable or unwilling to provide the armaments necessary for supporting the policy which it has been accustomed to pursue and would {226} like to maintain, it should have the sense to abandon that policy for something of a humbler sort before the bluff is discovered by the world.[1]
It may possibly appear absurd to dwell with so much insistence upon a pair of propositions which, when they are set down in black and white, will at once be accepted as self-evident by ninety-nine men out of a hundred. But plain and obvious as they are, none in the whole region of politics have been more frequently ignored. These two principles have been constantly presenting themselves to the eyes of statesmen in a variety of different shapes ever since history began.
It may very easily happen that the particular policy which the desire for security requires, is one which the strength of the national armaments at a given moment will not warrant the country in pursuing. Faced with this unpleasant quandary, what is Government to do, if it be convinced of the futility of trying to persuade the people to incur the sacrifices necessary for realising the national aspirations? Is it to give up the traditional policy, and face the various consequences which it is reasonable to anticipate? Or is it to persevere in the policy, and continue acting as if the forces at its disposal were sufficient for its purpose, when in fact they are nothing of the kind? To follow the former course {227} calls for a surrender which the spirit of the people will not easily endure, and which may even be fatal to the independent existence of the state. But to enter upon the latter is conduct worthy of a fraudulent bankrupt, since it trades upon an imposture, which, when it is found out by rival nations, will probably be visited by still severer penalties.
But surely Government has only to make it clear to the people that, unless they are willing to bring their armaments abreast of their policy, national aspirations must be baulked and even national safety itself may be endangered. When men are made to understand these things, will they not certainly agree to do what is necessary, though they may give their consent with reluctance?[2]
POLITICAL DIFFICULTIES
It is very certain, however, that this outside view of the case enormously underrates the difficulties which stare the politician out of countenance. In matters of this sort it is not so easy a thing to arrive at the truth; much less to state it with such force and clearness that mankind will at once recognise it for truth, and what is said to the contrary for falsehood. The intentions of foreign governments, and the dangers arising out of that quarter, are subjects which it is singularly difficult to discuss frankly, without incurring the very evils which every government seeks to avoid. And if these things are not easy to discuss, it is exceedingly easy for faction or fanatics to misrepresent them.[3] Moreover, the lamentations of the Hebrew prophets bear witness to the {228} deafness and blindness of generations into whom actual experience of the evils foretold had not already burnt the lesson which it was desired to teach. Evils which have never been suffered are hard things to clothe with reality until it is too late, and words, even the most eloquent and persuasive, are but a poor implement for the task.
The policy of a nation is determined upon, so as to accord with what it conceives to be its honour, safety, and material interests. In the natural course of events this policy may check, or be checked by, the policy of some other nation. The efforts of diplomacy may be successful in clearing away these obstructions. If so, well and good; but if not, there is nothing left to decide the issue between the two nations but the stern arbitrament of war.
Moreover, diplomacy itself is dependent upon armaments in somewhat the same sense as the prosperity of a merchant is dependent upon his credit with his bankers. The news system of the world has undergone a revolution since the days before steam and telegraphs. It is not merely more rapid, but much ampler. The various governments are kept far more fully informed of one another's affairs, and as a consequence the great issues between nations have become clear and sharp. The most crafty and smooth-tongued ambassador can rarely wheedle his opponents into concessions which are contrary to their interests, unless he has something more to rely upon than his own guile and plausibility. Army corps and battle fleets looming in the distance are better persuaders than the subtlest arguments and the deftest flattery.
What, then, is the position of a statesman who {229} finds himself confronted by a clash of policies, if, when the diplomatic deadlock occurs, he realises that his armaments are insufficient to support his aim? In such an event he is faced with the alternative of letting judgment go by default, or of adding almost certain military disaster to the loss of those political stakes for which his nation is contending with its rival. Such a position must be ignominious in the extreme; it might even be ruinous; and yet it would be the inevitable fate of any country whose ministers had neglected the maxim that policy in the last resort is dependent upon armaments.
EXAMPLE OF CHINA
If we are in search of an example we shall find it ready to our hand. The Empire of China is comparable to our own at least in numbers; for each of them contains, as nearly as may be, one quarter of the whole human race. And as China has hitherto failed utterly to make her armaments sufficient, under the stress of modern conditions, to support even that meek and passive policy of possession which she has endeavoured to pursue, so she has been compelled to watch in helplessness while her policy has been disregarded by every adventurer. She has been pressed by all the nations of the world and obliged to yield to their demands. Humiliating concessions have been wrung from her; favours even more onerous, in the shape of loans, have been forced upon her. The resources with which nature has endowed her have been exploited by foreigners against her will. Her lands have been shorn from her and parcelled out among those who were strong, and who hungered after them. This conquest and robbery has proceeded both by wholesale and retail. {230} Because she yielded this to one claimant, another, to keep the balance even, has insisted upon that. Safe and convenient harbours, fortified places, islands, vast stretches of territory, have been demanded and taken from her almost without a struggle; and all this time she has abstained with a timid caution from anything which can justly be termed provocation. For more than half a century, none the less, China has not been mistress in her own house.
The reason of this is plain enough—China had possessions which other nations coveted, and she failed to provide herself with the armaments which were necessary to maintain them.
The British people likewise had possessions which other nations coveted—lands to take their settlers, markets to buy their goods, plantations to yield them raw materials. If it were our set determination to hold what our forefathers won, two things were necessary: the first, that our policy should conform to this aim; the second, that our armaments should be sufficient to support our policy.
A nation which desired to extend its possessions, to round off its territories, to obtain access to the sea, would probably regard conquest, or at all events absorption, as its highest immediate interest. This would be the constant aim of its policy, and if its armaments did not conform to this policy, the aim would not be realised. Examples both of failure and success are to be found in the history of Russia from the time of Peter the Great, and in that of Prussia from the days of the Great Elector.
A nation—like England or Holland in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries—which {231} was seeking to secure against its commercial rivals, if necessary by force of arms, new markets among civilised but unmilitary races, would require a policy and armaments to correspond.
BRITISH CONTENTMENT
The British Empire in the stage of development which it had reached at the end of the Victorian era did not aim at acquisition of fresh territories or new markets, save such as might be won peacefully by the skill and enterprise of its merchants. It sought only to hold what it already possessed, to develop its internal resources, and to retain equal rights with its commercial rivals in neutral spheres. But in order that those unaggressive objects might be realised, there was need of a policy, different indeed from that of Elizabeth, of Cromwell, or of Chatham, but none the less clear and definite with regard to its own ends. And to support this policy there was need of armaments, suitable in scale and character.
It was frequently pointed out between the years 1901 and 1914 (and it lay at the very root of the matter), that while we were perfectly satisfied with things as they stood, and should have been more than content—regarding the subject from the standpoint of our own interests—to have left the map of the world for ever, as it then was drawn, another nation was by no means so well pleased with existing arrangements. To this envious rival it appeared that we had taken more than our fair share—as people are apt to do who come early. We had wider territories than we could yet fill with our own people; while our neighbour foresaw an early date at which his race would be overflowing its boundaries. We had limitless resources in the Dominions and Dependencies {232} overseas, which when developed would provide a united empire with markets of inestimable value. In these respects Germany was in a less favourable position. Indeed, with the exceptions of Russia and the United States, no other great Power was so fortunately placed as ourselves; and even these two nations, although they had an advantage over the British Empire by reason of their huge compact and coterminous territories, still did not equal it in the vastness and variety of their undeveloped resources.
Clearly, therefore, the policy which the needs of our Commonwealth required at this great turning-point in its history, was not only something different from that of any other great Power, but also something different from that which had served ............