Theodore Roosevelt: An Autobiography
no territory whatever which they wished to give up. I also pointed out
that in my judgment whereas the Japanese had enjoyed the sympathy of
most of the civilized powers at the outset of and during the continuance
of the war, they would forfeit it if they turned the war into one merely
for getting money--and, moreover, they would almost certainly fail to
get the money, and would simply find themselves at the end of a year,
even if things prospered with them, in possession of territory they
did not want, having spent enormous additional sums of money, and
lost enormous additional numbers of men, and yet without a penny of
remuneration. The treaty of peace was finally signed.
As is inevitable under such circumstances, each side felt that it ought
to have got better terms; and when the danger was well past each side
felt that it had been over-reached by the other, and that if the war had
gone on it would have gotten more than it actually did get. The Japanese
Government had been wise throughout, except in the matter of announcing
that it would insist on a money indemnity. Neither in national nor in
private affairs is it ordinarily advisable to make a bluff which cannot
be put through--personally, I never believe in doing it under any
circumstances. The Japanese people had been misled by this bluff of
their Government; and the unwisdom of the Government's action in the
matter was shown by the great resentment the treaty aroused in
Japan, although it was so beneficial to Japan. There were various mob
outbreaks, especially in the Japanese cities; the police were roughly
handled, and several Christian churches were burned, as reported to me
by the American Minister. In both Russia and Japan I believe that the
net result as regards myself was a feeling of injury, and of dislike
of me, among the people at large. I had expected this; I regarded it as
entirely natural; and I did not resent it in the least. The Governments
of both nations behaved toward me not only with correct and entire
propriety, but with much courtesy and the fullest acknowledgment of the
good effect of what I had done; and in Japan, at least, I believe that
the leading men sincerely felt that I had been their friend. I had
certainly tried my best to be the friend not only of the Japanese people
but of the Russian people, and I believe that what I did was for the
best interests of both and of the world at large.
During the course of the negotiations I tried to enlist the aid of the
Governments of one nation which was friendly to Russia, and of another
nation which was friendly to Japan, in helping bring about peace. I
got no aid from either. I did, however, receive aid from the Emperor
of Germany. His Ambassador at St. Petersburg was the one Ambassador
who helped the American Ambassador, Mr. Meyer, at delicate and doubtful
points of the negotiations. Mr. Meyer, who was, with the exception of
Mr. White, the most useful diplomat in the American service, rendered
literally invaluable aid by insisting upon himself seeing the Czar at
critical periods of the transaction, when it was no longer possible for
me to act successfully through the representatives of the Czar, who were
often at cross purposes with one another.
As a result of the Portsmouth peace, I was given the Nobel Peace Prize.
This consisted of a medal, which I kept, and a sum of $40,000, which I
turned over as a foundation of industrial peace to a board of trustees
which included Oscar Straus, Seth Low and John Mitchell. In the present
state of the world's development industrial peace is even more essential
than international peace; and it was fitting and appropriate to devote
the peace prize to such a purpose. In 1910, while in Europe, one of my
most pleasant experiences was my visit to Norway, where I addressed the
Nobel Committee, and set forth in full the principles upon which I
had acted, not only in this particular case but throughout my
administration.
I received another gift which I deeply appreciated, an original copy
of Sully's "Memoires" of "Henry le Grand," sent me with the following
inscription (I translate it roughly):
PARIS, January, 1906.
"The undersigned members of the French Parliamentary Group of
International Arbitration and Conciliation have decided to tender
President Roosevelt a token of their high esteem and their sympathetic
recognition of the persistent and decisive initiative he has taken
towards gradually substituting friendly and judicial for violent methods
in case of conflict between Nations.
"They believe that the action of President Roosevelt, which has realized
the most generous hopes to be found in history, should be classed as a
continuance of similar illustrious attempts of former times, notably
the project for international concord known under the name of the 'Great
Design of Henry IV' in the memoirs of his Prime Minister, the Duke de
Sully. In consequence they have sought out a copy of the first edition
of these memoirs, and they take pleasure in offering it to him, with the
request that he will keep it among his family papers."
The signatures include those of Emile Loubet, A. Carnot, d'Estournelles
de Constant, Aristide Briand, Sully Prudhomme, Jean Jaures, A.
Fallieres, R. Poincare, and two or three hundred others.
Of course what I had done in connection with the Portsmouth peace
was misunderstood by some good and sincere people. Just as after the
settlement of the coal strike, there were persons who thereupon thought
that it was in my power, and was my duty, to settle all other strikes,
so after the peace of Portsmouth there were other persons--not only
Americans, by the way,--who thought it my duty forthwith to make myself
a kind of international Meddlesome Mattie and interfere for peace
and justice promiscuously over the world. Others, with a delightful
non-sequitur, jumped to the conclusion that inasmuch as I had helped to
bring about a beneficent and necessary peace I must of necessity have
changed my mind about war being ever necessary. A couple of days after
peace was concluded I wrote to a friend: "Don't you be misled by the
fact that just at the moment men are speaking well of me. They will
speak ill soon enough. As Loeb remarked to me to-day, some time soon I
shall have to spank some little international brigand, and then all the
well-meaning idiots will turn and shriek that this is inconsistent
with what I did at the Peace Conference, whereas in reality it will be
exactly in line with it."
To one of my political opponents, Mr. Schurz, who wrote me
congratulating me upon the outcome at Portsmouth, and suggesting that
the time was opportune for a move towards disarmament, I answered in a
letter setting forth views which I thought sound then, and think sound
now. The letter ran as follows:
OYSTER BAY, N. Y., September 8, 1905.
My dear Mr. Schurz: I thank you for your congratulations. As to what you
say about disarmament--which I suppose is the rough equivalent of "the
gradual diminution of the oppressive burdens imposed upon the world by
armed peace"--I am not clear either as to what can be done or what ought
to be done. If I had been known as one of the conventional type of peace
advocates I could have done nothing whatever in bringing about peace
now, I would be powerless in the future to accomplish anything, and
I would not have been able to help confer the boons upon Cuba, the
Philippines, Porto Rico and Panama, brought about by our action therein.
If the Japanese had not armed during the last twenty years, this would
indeed be a sorrowful century for Japan. If this country had not fought
the Spanish War; if we had failed to take the action we did about
Panama; all mankind would have been the loser. While the Turks were
butchering the Armenians the European powers kept the peace and thereby
added a burden of infamy to the Nineteenth Century, for in keeping that
peace a greater number of lives were lost than in any European war since
the days of Napoleon, and these lives were those of women and children
as well as of men; while the moral degradation, the brutality inflicted
and endured, the aggregate of hideous wrong done, surpassed that of any
war of which we have record in modern times. Until people get it firmly
fixed in their minds that peace is valuable chiefly as a means to
righteousness, and that it can only be considered as an end when it also
coincides with righteousness, we can do only a limited amount to advance
its coming on this earth. There is of course no analogy at present
between international law and private or municipal law, because there
is no sanction of force for the former, while there is for the latter.
Inside our own nation the law-abiding man does not have to arm himself
against the lawless simply because there is some armed force--the
police, the sheriff's posse, the national guard, the regulars--which
can be called out to enforce the laws. At present there is no similar
international force to call on, and I do not as yet see how it could
at present be created. Hitherto peace has often come only because some
strong and on the whole just power has by armed force, or the threat of
armed force, put a stop to disorder. In a very interesting French book
the other day I was reading how the Mediterranean was freed from pirates
only by the "pax Britannica," established by England's naval force. The
hopeless and hideous bloodshed and wickedness of Algiers and Turkestan
was stopped, and could only be stopped, when civilized nations in the
shape of Russia and France took possession of them. The same was true
of Burma and the Malay States, as well as Egypt, with regard to England.
Peace has come only as the sequel to the armed interference of a
civilized power which, relatively to its opponent, was a just and
beneficent power. If England had disarmed to the point of being unable
to conquer the Sudan and protect Egypt, so that the Mahdists had
established their supremacy in northeastern Africa, the result would
have been a horrible and bloody calamity to mankind. It was only the
growth of the European powers in military efficiency that freed eastern
Europe from the dreadful scourge of the Tartar and partially freed it
from the dreadful scourge of the Turk. Unjust war is dreadful; a just
war may be the highest duty. To have the best nations, the free and
civilized nations, disarm and leave the despotisms and barbarisms
with great military force, would be a calamity compared to which the
calamities caused by all the wars of the nineteenth century would be
trivial. Yet it is not easy to see how we can by international agreement
state exactly which power ceases to be free and civilized and which
comes near the line of barbarism or despotism. For example, I suppose
it would be very difficult to get Russia and Japan to come to a common
agreement on this point; and there are at least some citizens of other
nations, not to speak of their governments, whom it would also be hard
to get together.
This does not in the least mean that it is hopeless to make the effort.
It may be that some scheme will be developed. America, fortunately,
can cordially assist in such an effort, for no one in his senses would
suggest our disarmament; and though we should continue to perfect our
small navy and our minute army, I do not think it necessary to increase
the number of our ships--at any rate as things look now--nor the number
of our soldiers. Of course our navy must be kept up to the highest
point of efficiency, and the replacing of old and worthless vessels by
first-class new ones may involve an increase in the personnel; but not
enough to interfere with our action along the lines you have suggested.
But before I would know how to advocate such action, save in some such