Preface
Dedication || 1: From a Front-line Cellar to the Hotel Crillon
IN THE FOLLOWING section of my chronicle of things seen and heard at the Peace
Conference, I have in pursuit of clarity, an ideal so often praised by our French friends,
withdrawn from the body of my diary many entries dealing with issues with which in my
subordinate capacity I was closely concerned or which for a variety of reasons were of
special interest to me. Also, in order to present in as straightforward and lucid a manner
as possible the complex pleas of the many suitors and suppliants at the bar of the Great
Assizes, I have made changes in the day-by-day chronological order of my diary, though
each individual entry, of course, retains its original date. I can see objections to such
rearrangement, but it does avoid much acrobatic springing from one topic to another, from
the familiar home front to distant lands, from an involved ethnic factor to a remote
boundary dispute.
In the main these excerpts deal with ancient questions once again become present-day
problems which the Conference, and particularly the Great Four, pressed as they were for
more urgent decisions, regarded as of such minor importance that they might be postponed,
or, with advantage, could be relegated to the League of Nations then a-borning. Even
before the League died, however, several of these neglected issues had developed into a
menace to the public law so recently and so hopefully proclaimed throughout the world, and
this neglect paved the way to the catastrophic situation in which all the nations of the
world have for a second time been involved.
The proceedings in this impromptu world court, for such was the Peace Conference, have
often been described as forensic battles between the Good and the Bad nations. This seems
an illustration of a tendency toward over- simplification to which particularly in times
of stress we are so often prone. This statement may be accepted as a half truth, but
during the Conference I came across the illuminating words (and indeed was fascinated by
them) which Thomas Carlyle, that Titan among the thinkers, applied to a somewhat similar
but less tragic situation in his day. He wrote: "Formula and Reality wrestle it
out" words that are truly descriptive of what happened then and are appropriate to
what is happening today. The wrestling has brought widespread misery to the world and it
is only too clear that the cut-and-dried formalist has not been silenced. He is heard
today in the market places and in the forum and, as always before, he will put in an
appearance at the Peace Conference.
While admitting failure in many regions where complete success had been too confidently
expected, it should be stressed that no single feature of his programme was nearer to the
heart of our crusading President than the fate of the submerged nationalities and the
widely scattered ethnic factors (only too often but forlorn fragments) who presented
themselves at the Great Assizes with their petitions, supplications and pleas. One of the
basic mistakes in Mr. Wilson's campaign was, however, that he almost invariably ignored
the experts - who could have told him that his belief in "easily recognizable
frontiers of nationality" was not based on accurate knowledge, that frequently they
did not exist, and that the traditional ties between reputedly sister nations were often
tenuous and frequently snapped without warning. Yet it cannot be denied that the
President, although the outstanding formalist, made a gallant fight in Paris for what he
thought to be right and most certainly often was. He was slow in perceiving that many of
his fellow delegates, blinded by racial or national ambition, seeking only what seemed
economic advantages or a winning election slogan, were turning deaf ears to the voices of
humanity and were not fearful of that unenviable pre-eminence in history which the
President had in the opening skirmish predicted for them if only they could boost trade
and maintain their parliamentary majorities.
The first trumpet note with which President Wilson electrified the world in that dark
moment of world history should be recorded here. His words were:
The voices of humanity insist that no nation or peoples shall be robbed or punished
because the irresponsible rulers of a single country have themselves done deep and
abominable wrong. (Dec. 4, 1917)
Then getting down to details he insisted: "There shall be no more bartering of
peoples and provinces as mere chattels and pawns in a game. Every territorial settlement
is to be made in the interests of the populations concerned." And last but by no
means least, he demanded "the destruction of any arbitrary power anywhere that
can disturb the peace of the world." (The full text of the Wilson programme is
detailed in the Appendix.)
By April 1919 the President came to a truer appreciation of his situation and he saw,
as General Smuts put it in words a few days later, "that humanity was failing
him." It was then on May 31st that he summed up the pleas he had so often made in the
sessions of the League and Covenant Commission, where he had so frequently insisted that
the treatment of the submerged and the oppressed nationalities would prove the acid test
of the Conference. But by this time his confidence in the outcome of the good fight was
weakening. He asked questions and his words were pleading, unlike the tone of perhaps
unconscious arrogance with which he had opened his campaign. In this mood his words were:
Nothing I venture to say is more likely to disturb the peace of the world than the
treatment which might in certain circumstances be meted out to minorities and, therefore,
if the Great Powers are to guarantee the peace of the world in any sense, is it unjust
that they should be satisfied that the proper and necessary guarantees have been given? If
we agree to the additions of territory asked for in this instance (particularly by Prime
Minister Bratianu of Rumania), we have the vested right to insist upon certain guarantees
of peace.
They were not forthcoming. There was an epidemic of sidestepping among the war-worn
nations and unfortunately in the backward movement the people of America were not the
hindmost. It is to be hoped that we have learned our costly lesson.
Stephen Bonsal
Washington, D.C.
