Getting Together Part 2

To America, friends.h.i.+p with France is an historic tradition, as the Statue of Liberty attests, and rests upon the solid foundation of a common ideal--Republicanism. The tie between America and Great Britain is the tie of a common (but rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng) blood-relations.h.i.+p; and, as every large family knows, blood-relations.h.i.+p carries with it the right to speak one's mind with refres.h.i.+ng freedom whenever differences of opinion arise within the family circle. But our idealists have persistently overlooked this handicap. They cling tenaciously to the notion that it is easier to be friendly with your relations than with your friends; and that in dealing with your own kin, tact may be economized. "Blood is thicker than water," we proclaim to one another across the sea; "and we can therefore afford to be as rude to one another as we please." This principle suits the Briton admirably, because he belongs to the elder and more thick-skinned branch of the clan. But it bears hardly upon a young, self-conscious, and adolescent nation, which has not yet "found"

itself as a whole; and which, though its native genius and genuine promise carry it far, still experiences a certain youthful diffidence under the supercilious condescension of the Old World.

Our mutual relations are further complicated by the possession of a common language.

In theory, a common tongue should be a bond of union between nations--a channel for the interchange of great thoughts and friendly sentiments. In practice, what is it?

Let us take a concrete example. Supposing an American woman and a Dutch woman live next door to one another in a New York suburb. As a rule they maintain friendly relations; but if at any time these relations become strained--say, over the encroachments of depredatory chickens, or the obstruction of some one's ancient lights by the over-exuberance of some one else's laundry--the two ladies are enabled to say the most dreadful things to one another without any one being a penny the worse. _They do not understand one another's language._ But if they speak a common tongue, the words which pa.s.s when the most ephemeral squabble arises stick and rankle.

Again, for many years the people of Great Britain were extremely critical of Russia. Well-meaning stay-at-home gentlemen constantly rose to their feet in the House of Commons and made withering remarks on the subject of knouts, and Cossacks, and vodka. But they did no harm. The Russian people do not understand English. In the same way, Russians were probably accustomed to utter equally reliable criticisms of the home-life of Great Britain--land-grabbing, and hypocrisy, and whiskey, and so on. But we knew nothing of all this, and all was well.

There was not the slightest difficulty, when the great world-crash came, in forming the warmest alliance with Russia.

But as between the two great English-speaking nations of the world, it is in the power of the most foolish politician or the most irresponsible sub-editor, on either side of the Atlantic, to create an international complication with a single spoken phrase or stroke of the pen. And as both countries appear to be inhabited very largely by persons who regard newspapers as Bibles and foolish politicians as inspired prophets, it seems advisable to take steps to regulate the matter.

This brings us to another matter--the att.i.tude of the American Press toward the War. A certain section thereof, which need not be particularized further, has never ceased, probably under the combined influences of bias and subsidy, to abuse the Allies, particularly the British, and misrepresent their motives and ideals. This sort of journalism "cuts no ice" in the United States. It is just "yellow journalism." _Voila tout!_ Why take it seriously? But the British people do not know this; and as the British half-penny Press, when it does quote the American Press, rarely quotes anything but the most virulent extracts from this particular cla.s.s of newspaper, one is reduced yet again to wondering whence the blessings of a common language are to be derived.

But taking them all round, the newspapers of America have handled the questions of the War with conspicuous fairness and ability. They are all fundamentally pro-Ally; and the only criticism which can be directed at them from an Allied quarter is that in their anxiety to give both sides a hearing, they have been a little too indulgent to Germany's claims to moral consideration, and have been a little over-inclined to accept the German Chancellor's pious manifestoes at their face value. But generally speaking it may be said that the greater the newspaper, the firmer the stand that it has taken for the Allied cause. The New York _Times_, the weightiest and most authoritative newspaper in America, has been both pro-Ally and pro-British throughout the War, and has never shrunk from the delicate task of interpreting satisfactorily to the British people the att.i.tude of the President.

Journalistic criticism of Great Britain in America is frequently extremely candid, and not altogether unmerited. Occasionally it goes too far; but the occasion usually arises from ignorance of the situation, or the desire to score an epigrammatic point. For instance, during the struggle for Verdun in the spring, a New York newspaper, sufficiently well-conducted to have known better, published a cartoon representing John Bull as standing aloof, but encouraging the French to persevere in their efforts by parodying Nelson's phrase:--"England expects that every Frenchman will do his duty." The truth of course was that Sir Douglas Haig had offered General Joffre all the British help that might be required. The offer was accepted to this extent, that the British took over forty additional miles of trenches from the French, thus setting free many divisions of French soldiers to partic.i.p.ate in a glorious and purely French victory.

But this sort of foolish calumny dies hard, together with such phrases as:--"England is prepared to hold on, to the last Frenchman!" While not strictly relevant to our present discussion, the following figures may be of interest. In August 1914 the British Regular Army consisted of about a hundred and fifty thousand men. To-day, British troops in France number two million; in Salonica, a hundred and forty thousand; in Egypt, a hundred and eighty thousand; in Mesopotamia, a hundred and twenty thousand. The Navy absorbs another four hundred thousand, while a full million are occupied in purely naval construction and repair. And at home again enormous ma.s.ses of new troops are undergoing training. This seems to dispose of the suggestion that Great Britain is winning the War by proxy.

And for the upkeep of this mighty host, and for this general comforting of the Allies, the British taxpayer is now paying cheerfully and willingly, in addition to such trifling impositions as a 60 per cent tax on his commercial profits, income tax at the rate of twenty-five cents in the dollar.

On the other side of the account, _Life_, the American equivalent of _Punch_, (if it is possible for the humour of a particular nation to find its equivalent in any other nation), published not long ago a special "John Bull" number, which will for ever remain a monument of journalistic generosity and international courtesy. _Life's_ good deed was gracefully acknowledged by _Punch_ and _The Spectator_.

But in spite of _Life's_ good example, enough has been said under this head to illuminate the fact that a common language is a doubtful blessing. The joint possession of the tongue that Shakespeare and Milton and Longfellow and Abraham Lincoln spoke has bestowed little upon our two nations but a convenient medium, too often, for shrewish altercation, coupled with the profound conviction of either side that the other side is unable to speak correct English.

Well, this nonsense must stop.

CHAPTER SIX

Therefore, whenever a true American and a true Briton get together, let them hold an international symposium of their own. If it were not for the unfortunate interposition of the Atlantic Ocean, this interview would be extended, with proportional profit, to the greatest symposium the world has ever seen. Meanwhile, we will make s.h.i.+ft with a company of two.

The following counsel is respectfully offered to the partic.i.p.ants in the debate.

Let the Briton remember:--

1. Remember you are talking to a _friend_.

2. Remember you are talking to a man who regards his nation as the greatest nation in the world. He will probably tell you this.

3. Remember you are talking to a man whose country has made an enormous contribution to your cause in men, material, and money, besides putting up with a good deal of inconvenience and irksome supervision at your hands. Remember, too, that your own country has made little or no acknowledgement of its indebtedness in this matter.

4. Remember you are talking to a man who believes in "publicity," and who believes further, that if you do not advertise the fact, you cannot possibly be in possession of "the goods." So for any sake open up a little, and tell him all you can about what the British Nation is doing to-day for Humanity and Civilization--in other words, for America.

5. Remember this man is not so impervious to criticism as you are. Don't over-criticize his apparent att.i.tude to the War.

Remember you are talking to a man whose patience under such outrages as the sinking of the _Lusitania_ has been strained to the uttermost; so don't ask him whether he is too proud to fight, or he may offer you convincing proof to the contrary.

6. Remember you are talking to a man whose business has been considerably interfered with by the stringency of the Allied blockade. So don't invite him to wax enthusiastic over the vigilance of the British Navy or the promptness of the Censor in putting the mails through.

7. And do try to disabuse the man's mind of the preposterous, Germany-fostered notion that your country regards this war merely as a vehicle for commercial aggrandizement, or that the British Foreign Office proposes to maintain the Black List and other bugbears after the War. It seems absurd that you should have to give such an a.s.surance, but doubts upon the subject certainly exist in certain quarters in America to-day.

Let the American remember:

1. Remember you are talking to a _friend_.

2. Remember you are talking to a man who regards his nation as the greatest in the world. He will not tell you this, because he takes it for granted that you know already.

3. Remember you are talking to a man who is a member of a traditionally reticent and unexpansive race; who says about one third of what he feels; who is obsessed by a mania for understating his country's case, exaggerating its weaknesses, and belittling its efforts; who is secretly shy, so covers up his shyness with a cloak of aggressiveness which is offensive to those who are not prepared for it.

Remember that this att.i.tude is not specially a.s.sumed for _you_: as often as not the man employs it toward his own wife, who rather enjoys it, because she regards it as a symptom of affection.

4. Remember you are talking to a man who is fighting for his life. To-day his face is turned toward Central Europe, and his back to the United States. Do not expect him to display an intimate or sympathetic understanding of America's true att.i.tude to the War. He is conducting the War according to his lights, and is prepared to abide by the consequences of what he does. So he is apt to be resentful of criticism.

Bear with him, for he is having a tough time of it.

5. Enemy propaganda to the contrary, remember that this man is not a hypocrite. He is occasionally stupid; he is at times obstinate; he is frequently high-handed; and often he would rather be misunderstood than explain. But he is neither tyrannical nor corrupt. He went into this War because he felt it his duty to do so, and not because he coveted any Teutonic vineyard.

6. Remember that your nation has done a great deal for this man's nation during the War. Tell him all about it: it will interest him, _because he did not know_.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Practically every one in this world improves on closer acquaintance.

The people with whom we utterly fail to agree are those with whom we never get into close touch.

Individual Americans and Britons, when they get together in one country or the other, usually develope a genuine mutual liking. As nations, however, their att.i.tude to one another is too often a distant att.i.tude--a distance of some three thousand miles, or the exact width of the Atlantic Ocean--and ranges from a lofty tolerance in good times to unreserved bickering in bad. Why? Because they are geographically too far apart. But with the shrinkage of the earth's surface produced by the effects of electricity and steam, that geographical abyss yawns much less widely than it did. So let us get together, whether in couples or in millions. The thing has to be done.

No rearrangement of the world's affairs after the War can be either just or equitable or permanent which does not find Great Britain and the United States of America upon the same side. What we want is common ground, and a sound basis of understanding. Our present basis--the "Hands-across-the-Sea, Blood-is-thicker-than-Water"

basis--is sloppy and unstable. Besides, it profoundly irritates that not inconsiderable section of the American people which does not happen to be of British descent.

We can find a better basis than that. What shall it be? Well, we have certain common ideals which rest upon no sentimental foundations, but upon the bedrock of truth and justice. We both believe in G.o.d; in personal liberty; in a Law which shall be inflexibly just to rich and poor alike. We both hate tyranny and oppression and intrigue; and we both love things which are clean, and wholesome, and of good report.

Let us take one common stand upon these.

We must take certain precautions. We must bear and forbear. We must forget a good deal that is past. We must make allowances for point of view and differences of temperament. And we must mutually and heroically refrain from utilizing the unrivalled opportunities for repartee and pettiness afforded by the possession of a common tongue.

Of course, we must not expect or attempt to work together in unison.

National differences of character and standpoint forbid. And no bad thing either. Unison is a cramping and irksome business. Let us work in harmony instead, which is far better. And so--to paraphrase the deathless words of the greatest of Americans:--With charity toward all, with malice toward none, with mutual understanding and confidence, we shall go forward together, to bind up the wounds of the world, and prevent for all time a repet.i.tion of the outrage which inflicted them.