April — undated — probably April 14th

Looking over my recent notes I find them skimpy and perhaps they do less than justice to the forensic battles that have here taken place, the results of which, soon or later, will reverberate throughout the world. The most desperate struggles took place in the session of March 24th and in that of April 1 ith, and they were waged over the very contentious questions of (1) an international force to put teeth into the League, (2) the Japanese demand for racial equality, (3) the prohibition of military preparations in days of tension and stress when, and at the time, the problem is before the Council for its decision or ruling, and (4) 5 and above all the rest, the Monroe Doctrine reservation. The somewhat fuller accounts that follow I have expanded from the hurried notes made a few hours after the heated antagonists had expressed their, I should say, equally sincere points of view. For this reason they may not be verbatim and literatim correct, but I am inclined to think they are because in the prolonged discussions everything was said, and restated, and repeated, at least a dozen times with but little if any variation of language.

At the meeting on March 24th we got pretty far ahead, reading down to Articles XV and XVI. However, it was not all solid progress much as we wished to consider it so. Many changes were proposed and many reservations suggested, and those who made them could only be quieted by repeated assurances from the President that ample opportunity would be given later on to consider carefully all these amendments—if not sooner, at least upon the second reading.

This meeting, which ran along into a five-hour session, was marked as usual by long, almost interminable discussions between M. Bourgeois and Lord Robert Cecil. The former was for making everything very precise, and, above all, clear. M. Bourgeois frequently went into ecstatic rapture over the advantages that would accrue to the League and to the world if only his standards of clarté, of clearness and lucidity, were maintained. There should be an international force, he insisted, the respective quotas of the participating countries should be fixed right now, and an international chief of staff should be named immediately. Again and again the English representative, Lord Robert Cecil, stated that unless the impending danger was in plain view it would be impossible for a responsible Minister of the British Crown to place a portion of the British Army under the command of a general who was not a British subject. As for himself, he stated that he would not presume to place such a suggestion before the constitutional advisers of the King. The President stood with Lord Robert Cecil. He assured the Committee that in his judgment, before any portion of the armed forces of the United States could be placed permanently under foreign or even international control, an amendment of the Constitution would be required. Then he conjured M. Bourgeois not to be so precise, but unfortunately this was of no avail as préciser was the word that the senior French delegate was always using and the condition that he was continually insisting upon. Things were going very badly, and the outlook for progress was poor.

The President appreciated the situation and did what he could to improve it. He made a very charming little speech full of pleasant things that evidently mollified M. Bourgeois, at least momentarily. The President stated that when he was a lawyer he had learned that “definition was limitation” and looking back he considered this lesson the most valuable that he had derived from his short year as a practicing lawyer. “I beg you to believe, M. Bourgeois,” he stated, “that our only objection to the precise provisions in the Covenant which you urge is that later on they would hamper and perhaps limit our action. We do not wish to define what we shall do when the emergency arises because it is our wish and also it is our firm belief that the measure of our assistance, when it becomes necessary, shall be without limit.”

Nevertheless, M. Bourgeois came back and back again to his original proposition. There must be a permanent international army encamped on the Rhine. Agreement upon this point was an indispensable preliminary to further discussion of what in France are regarded as less important, less vital matters. This permanent army was regarded in France as the cornerstone of the whole peace edifice. It would be impossible, it would be sheer madness, to attempt to erect the edifice of security upon any other than this concrete military foundation.

With increasing agitation and considerable vehemence, Lord Robert explained that there were things, however desirable they might appear to be when viewed in certain aspects, that were absolutely impossible, and this international army was one of them. He expressed the opinion that it would be wise right now to eliminate from the discussion this and such kindred matters. If the French proposition could not be modified, it would be wiser for him and his colleague to withdraw, as neither of them approved of it and neither of them would assume the responsibility of even submitting such a plan to the Crown.

He further argued that the plans which by mutual concessions could be brought into acceptable shape were so many and varied that all the available time, and it was none too much, had better be expended in discussion where there was at least a possibility of profitable results.

But M. Bourgeois came back once more. Lord Robert in his youth evidently had acquired some knowledge of French and out of pure good nature he would from time to time interject into the discussion a French phrase that was sometimes helpful and sometimes was not. Lord Robert now expressed the opinion (to help out the interpreter) that it was stupid to waste time, but as M. Bourgeois got it, he thought that his amendment and perhaps his whole point of view were regarded by the senior English representative as stupid. There was, of course, a tremendous uproar, and three quarters of an hour passed before the incident was closed by the English representative and the French representative mutually admitting that they had for each other the greatest personal admiration and that when they clashed it was from an overpowering sense of duty and not, as it were, from personal incompatibility or want of mutual appreciation.

Unfortunately, when at this juncture M. Bourgeois at last showed signs of being exhausted by his own oratory, M. Larnaude, the dean of the school of law and the second French delegate, sailed in and he was, it must be admitted, more exasperating and more positively insulting to the other delegates than his senior colleague had ever been. And again, probably in recognition of one of Lord Robert’s bitter and cutting remarks and his impatience of stupidity, these tirades were directed at the English delegate, and each of the long, involved accusations of the Frenchman would conclude with a challenge something like this, “Now, do me the honor, Lord Robert, to answer me that,” out Lord Robert would only nod his head affably. When about the tenth accusation had been sent, fulminating with crushing force through the armor of perfidious Albion, M. Larnaude at last paused, and this time he insisted upon a reply.

It was forthcoming. Lord Robert said: “M. Larnaude, there is no expression of appreciation of your legalistic mind that I could make that would not fall short of what is appropriate. But I cannot answer your question; how can I, when nothing has been said and nothing new has been advanced? I would only be repeating what I have said a hundred times and what has been said at least twice by our honorable President (Mr. Wilson) in his inimitable and charming way.”

M. Larnaude was very angry; his eyes grew very small and his nose swelled; he shook his finger across the Peace table and shouted: “Unless you promise us an international force stationed on the Rhine, and unless steps are immediately taken to carry out your promise, there will be no League of Nations and perhaps no Peace.” And M. Bourgeois pounded upon the table in complete approval of his colleague’s ultimatum.

While they gave us no new information, or even a promising lead, I should say that whenever the French plan of putting force behind the League was projected into the discussions it was warmly, if but briefly, supported by Dmowski (Poland), Vesnitch (Serbia), Kramar (Czechoslovakia), and Hymans (Belgium). They, too, demanded, first, that the League should have at its disposal an international force, always ready to be sent to the point of danger; second, a posse composed of contingents drawn from the armies of the states, members of the League, proportioned to their population; and, third, as a last resort, an international general staff to keep close watch on the political scene and to have prepared plans to meet aggression wherever it showed its head—and, if possible, before it developed into a menace to world peace. When the meager sop¹ of consolation (Article IX) was handed out Dmowski said sadly:

Then, despite the lateness of the hour, Baron Makino (Japan) who, calm and imperturbable like Buddha on his lotus throne, has generally remained silent throughout the stormy sessions, arose and developed into a portentous troublemaker. As an amendment to Article XII he again proposed “that no military preparations of any kind should be permitted to contending nations while their respective claims were being investigated and while the question at issue awaited a decision” (by the Council of the League).

It was now thought to be a good time to adjourn and indeed it was.

Sleepy eyes were raised toward the clock, and it was found to be twenty minutes past one in the morning. The President was aghast, and he relieved the tense situation in which the delegates were separating by saying that his mind absolutely refused to function after midnight and that the something that took the place of his mind after this hour was wholly unreliable. M. Larnaude admitted somewhat ruefully that the last Metro train for Neuilly had left at eleven o’clock. Lord Robert Cecil gallantly offered the hospitality of the Hotel Majestic which was frigidly declined, and accompanied by M. Bourgeois he insisted upon wandering out in the drizzling rain to look for a taxi or a sapin, as he put it.