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France and America; some experiences in coöperation

André Tardieu · 1927 · Scanned text

80,039 words · about 5 h 36 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
André Tardieu
Language
English
Published
1927
Length
80,039 words · about 5 h 36 min
Sections
13 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain · PD-US by publication date

 

Contents (13)

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Front matter

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REFERENCE LIBRARY OF HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

2 PARK STREET, BOSTON

CHAPTER I CONTRASTS Tue FUNDAMENTAL ERROR

Traditional friendship — Brevity of combined efforts — A century without contact — Dangers of official optimism — To know is to foresee.

France a sedentary nation — American freedom of movement — Specialization and change — Rôle of the West — Frontiers in France and in the United States — Two ideas of nationality — Liberty and union — American particularism — Civil War — Work of Abraham Lincoln — Races in France and United States — Immigration and its consequences — Americanism — Differences in proportion — United States as seen by Europe.

France’s long struggle for political liberty — A saving of eighteen centuries— Frenchmen sovereign by right of conquest, Americans by right of birth — Individuals protected against the tyranny of numbers by the Constitution of 1787 — American laws and the Supreme Court — The rôle of the Executive in France and in the United States — Provincial Life — American conservatism and French revolutions — The religious question — Political and economic factors — The enduring quality of American parties.

American individualism and French individualism — The spirit of compromise and the intransigeant spirit — For and against social conventions — American optimism and American pride — The antagonism of the two civilizations — The Bible and antiquity — The social tendencies of American culture — National mission of the colleges — An impression of 1805 — Dis- | course on method.

(ili )

Chapter II

I. ENDURE AND SUFFER 69

A theater of Franco-American codperation — From

Oise and Aisne — Cradle of the French plough — An-

tiquity of local communities — Before and after —

The Church and the Commune — Continuity of wars

— Foreign invasion and civil wars — An abyss of ‘ suffering.

II. Farrx 78

Beginnings of the churches of Soissons and Laon — 1000 4.2. and the clergy — Convents and parishes — Religious art—Ecclesiastical culture in the Middle Ages — The Church and the Reformations — The Church and the Revolution — From Saint Remi to Calvin.

IIL. Force | 88

The nobles and the king — The keep of Coucy — Feudal times — The days of chivalry — Uneasy beginnings of royalty — Keystone of the French structure — France built by her kings — From serfdom to the Third Estate — Communal charters — Triumph of the crown — Decline of the aristocracy — The court — The nation.

IV. NuMBERS 99

Rural slaves and free colonists — The Church and the people — Struggle for local liberties — Rural districts and the communal movement — The people against the nobles — The king on the people’s side — Clerics — Misery of the poor — Rumblings of revolution — Napoleon and modern times — Character of Picardy — Ideas of property — Political divisions — Rural dynasties — Communal particularism — Virtues of individualism.

Chapter III America And The War I. Volunteers | 117

What Americans in Paris did — War relief bodies in the United States — Pro-Ally minority — Enlistments

(iv)

= in the French army — Effect on American public opinion — The American Field Service — The American Fund for French Wounded — First organization in aid of the civilian population.

American traditions — Love of isolation — Forbears of the policy of aloofness — Its application in the nineteenth century — The foreign vote and the neutrality — Unanimously neutral in August, 1914— Woodrow Wilson’s speeches — Theodore Roosevelt’s article — Attitude of Congress — Indifference of the people — Presidential election of 1916 — Both parties © in agreement — Eighteen million votes for neutrality — Europe’s mistake.

Neutrality impossible — Choice between two wars — Failure of the policy of mediation — Influence of economic interests — America’s markets and the Allies — Evolution of President Wilson — Final qualms of conscience — From Madison to Wilson — Declaration of war — Popular support and its causes — Rôle of the pro-Ally minority — Popularity of France — Civil Section of the American Fund for French Wounded appears behind the French front — The enthusiasm of codperation.

Chapter IV Reconstruction

German occupation — Committee for Relief in Belgium and the civilian population — The drama of March, 1917 — Strategic retreat of the Germans and destruction of French villages — Martyrdom of the victims of invasion — Wiping out the home — The dead soil — Rôle of the Civil Section of the American Fund for French Wounded — First barracks — Agricultural syndicates — Two defeats in 1918 — Withdrawal on Paris — The American Committee for Devastated France — Moving canteens — Regrouping the refugees — Dawn of victory — Liberation of the

Aisne. (x)

IL.

Tue Sores oF RECONSTRUCTION

Protectionist character of French reconstruction — An unprecedented undertaking — Immensity of ruin — Rôle of the Government — The four sores of reconstruction — Rise in prices — Variations in cost of reconstruction — Germany’s failure to pay — Policy of borrowing — Irregularity of credits — Importance of the work done — Its shortcomings — Individuals sacrificed — Calvary of the cultivators — Moral conditions — Tragedy of the unfinished task.

Tur VOLUNTEERS OF PEACE

Programme of the American Committee — Social reconstitution — First social workers in England and America — Difficulties of adaptation — Social hygiene in the United States and in France — Boy Scout movement — Public libraries — Two aspects of individualism — The agricultural achievement — The public health work — Education of youth — American libraries in the Aisne and in Paris — Endowments — Training schools for nurses and librarians — Transfer of American activities to French organizations — Story of a friendship.

Chapter V Lights And Shadows

. Tue PROBLEM or War CoOPERATION

Immensity of the results obtained — Their difficulties — Military codperation — Amalgamation or autonomy — Effectives — Instruction and transport — The American army in France — The material and moral problems — Allotment of shipping — American advances to the Allies — Growth of misunderstanding — The panic of March, 1918 — Concentration of authority in the United States — Inter-Allied organizations — French consortiums — The French High Commission in the United States — Intellectual and moral influence — Triumph of combined effort.

Crisis of the Peace Conference — Réle of Woodrow Wilson — Rupture of economic ties — Dissatisfaction of the soldiers — Legend of the trench-renting — Ef-

(vi)

fect of political struggles in France and the United States — Democratic Party against France — Republican Party arrayed against the Treaty of Versailles — Political contradiction and electoral necessities — The separate peace with Germany — Concatenation of French and American mistakes — Clemenceau’s downfall and the American people — Washington Conference of 1921 — Near-Eastern affairs — Occupation of the Ruhr — Debt question — Errors of French ‘propaganda’ — A complete misunderstanding.

Private organizations in the United States — Their pro-French work during the war — Difficulties encountered — American Committee for Devastated France in America — Its use of publicity methods — Their success — Its use of party methods — Good-Will campaign — A feminine Embassy — Rôle of the press and of business men — Elections of 1922 — France discovered — Reawakened affection — A consolation or a lesson.

Chapter VI And After?

Pre-war contrasts intensified by war — Weakening of Europe — American prosperity — Bitterness and pride — Two world ideals — Inescapable ties — Problem of American exports— Debts and credits — European deception and American indictment — Franco-American conflict.

French faults — Decline of national faith — Political indifference and slothful sentimentalism — Economic factors underweighed — From servility to aggressiveness — Unfaithful interpreters — Possibilities of remedy.

American faults — Arrogance and ignorance — Dangers of the constructive spirit — Professors of prosperity — Tactlessness and provocation — Europe’s fears — Lack of continuity in America’s foreign policy — Moral superiority complex — Political inferiority complex — Ground lost by United States.

Methods of the future — Enlightenment of two democracies — What France can teach the United States — _

( vii )

What the United States can teach France — Contact of the rising generation — Rôle of the universities — Lessons of contrasts — Bringing together the élites — Fruitful codperation — Perils of political codperation — A generation sacrificed — The ideal and the attainable — A critical essay and an act of faith.

FRANCE AND AMERICA

Chapter I Contrasts France And America

_ CHAPTER I CONTRASTS I

Twice within the sesquicentury — in 1781 and 1918 —a great achievement has crowned the combined efforts of France and the United States. The memory of these triumphs is so graven in our hearts that we are wont to take ‘entente’ between the two countries for granted; and to think of it as spontaneous, instinctive, and complete.

Thousands of orators have proclaimed this ‘entente,’ only to be contradicted by events. After wars waged in common, separate treaties; after battles fought shoulder to shoulder, the isolation of peace; after protestations of loyalty to principles, inability to agree on their application. After visionaries had asserted that ‘entente’ was a law of nature, exceptions proved innumerable. Seeing this the nations learned to doubt. Because too much had been promised to them, they were perplexed when performance failed. Convinced of their own honesty of purpose, they were vexed by disappointing morrows. Forgetful of results, they remembered only failures. Such is the danger of propitiatory orations which, extolling alleged harmonies of destiny, pay scant heed to stern realities, to fixed national and individual traits, or to basic differences that warp the fate of nations.

I grant that the first fact, clear as day, is the intuitive friendship of our two peoples for one another. Their material, sentimental, and spiritual ties are of long standing. Both love to dwell on them. De Tocqueville in France; Parkman and Finley in America, gave voice to the past. Out of the mists there loomed the mariners of Dieppe and Saint-Malo, of La Rochelle and Rouen; the odyssey of the Griffon discovering waterways which now carry the wealth of a continent; Jacques Cartier, the explorer of the Saint Lawrence and of the Rapids; Champlain, the Recollets, the Jesuits, the trappers, and woodsmen and canoeists of the Great Lakes; Marquette, La Salle, Frontenac; their predecessors or disciples, Joliet, Tonty, Hennepin, Radisson, Groseillier, Iberville, Bienville, La Harpe, Lesueur, the Verendrys, heroes of the Mississippi, that great artery of American life. |

Those Frenchmen left their mark! One may trace it in the cities: Detroit, Duluth, Saint Louis, Racine, Eau Claire, Fond du Lac; in the civilization of the West, so different from that of New England. Despite official indifference, despite the disdain of Louis XIV for ‘the useless enterprises of the Sieur de la Salle’ and the gibes of Voltaire about ‘acres of snow,’ mutual attraction ripened into the Alliance of 1778. France and the United States knew little of one another — how little is strikingly shown by Abbé Raynal’s book — but they loved one another. Benjamin Franklin was received in Paris as the type of superman conceived by our philosophers. A mysterious outpouring of affection attracted the two countries. Their political association was not the result of self-interest alone. In its inception the Alliance was one of brotherly love. Franklin and Jefferson were welcomed in Paris as effusively and as triumphantly as Lafayette and Rochambeau in America. France lent her strength to save the new-born American liberty from certain death. Gérard, her first envoy to Philadelphia, was carried to Congress by the enthusiasm of a whole people.

Thus was implanted in thousands of hearts a priceless friendship whose memorable duration deserves more consideration than it usually receives. An acknowledged debt of gratitude for decisive military aid; the moral solidarity of two revolutions whose similarity of occurrence concealed their differences; the pride of having given two Republics to the world within a single decade; the charm of personal relations; the lure of common ideals and aspirations; the attraction of a very young people for a very old civilization — all these feelings still endure, and this book is written to show how, in the darkest hours, this wealth of friendship, inherited from bygone generations, remained intact even when left fallow. The first year of the war proved this. Perhaps even more so, the persistent desire to work together which, in ways all too little known, has survived the comradeship of arms.

This friendship is the first fact which offers itself to our analysis. To acknowledge it, is but right; but to do no more than acknowledge it, is wrong. Because this friendship, although the first, is not the only fact we have to consider, and to be honest we must view it in the light of another fact equally plain. This other fact is that our two countries, bound by such ties of sympathy, have never made a combined effort that was not followed by immediate rupture; indeed in all other circumstances the absence of conflict can only be explained by the lack of contact. May I add that the short periods of political codperation — less than ten years in all, out of one hundred and forty — were the result not of sentiment, but of interest; and that as soon as interest lapsed, sentiment did not suffice to maintain codperation.

When we became allies in 1778, it was the last thing one might have expected. To New England colonists, France was the enemy. Against France, Benjamin Franklin had drafted his plan of union in 1754. Against France, which hemmed in the colonies from the Saint Lawrence to the mouths of the Mississippi, George Washington had won his spurs. France was not only, as Boston averred, ‘the ally of savages.’ In Europe she was the champion of the Papacy, of monarchy, of war, of libertinism, and of all that was hateful to the descendants of the Pilgrims. When Vergennes and Franklin undertook to negotiate, public satisfaction was but a meagre cloak for the contrast of traditions and temperament. On the one side, Catholics and Royalists; on the other, Protestants and Democrats. They managed to sign a treaty which left the world agape, but never could agree upon their war aims: Louisiana, Canada, Newfoundland were left out of the picture, hot-beds of impending conflict.

Five years passed, and the victorious end of the war marked the end of political agreement. Unknown to Vergennes, John Jay in 1782 negotiated a separate peace — just as, one hundred and thirty-nine years later, the United States was to sign the separate peace of 1921 with Germany. The French chargé d’affaires, Barbé-Marbois, stressed the point: ‘A great Power makes no complaint. But it resents insult, and never forgets.’ For ten years the cleavage grew: it was impossible to conclude even a treaty of commerce; in 1787 the abrogation of the Alliance, ‘a legacy of the past,’ as Hamilton coldly declared; in 1790, economic difficulties; in 1793, the proclamation of neutrality; in 1794, the treaty with England. I am well aware that it would have been folly for the United States to have again lent its soil to battle, and that abstention was the part of political wisdom. Nevertheless, George Washington’s decision placed Franco-American relations beyond the pale of sentimental affinity and democratic analogy. At.the very time when the French Republic was the European counterpart of the American Commonwealth, they came to the parting of the ways.

Already, preconceived ideas were vanishing before the onslaught of facts. Contact was not entirely lost. Factions continued to lend each other mutual support, - but of real understanding there was none. The good people of Philadelphia were still thinking in terms of Montesquieu, when the drums of Santerre were beating on the Place de la Concorde at the foot of the guillotine. Men wept here when speaking of Franklin, and there at mention of Lafayette’s name. But John Quincy Adams reviled our ‘thirty millions of atheists poisoned by philosophy.’ Alexander Hamilton rent the ‘great beast’ to pieces. It was said that ‘neither Nero nor Caligula had attained to the horror of the French Revolution.’ Noah Webster described France as gone from papist superstition to rationalist superstition and rotten with demoniac mysticism. Jefferson himself on his return to America felt that he was compromised and weakened by Genet, the dangerous meddler who — like Bernstorff in 1917 — sought to influence American policy by party intrigue. The loose life of immigrants, such as Talleyrand, shocked the Puritan conscience. If Jay’s treaty with England roused the ire of the American people, it was less out of love for France than out of hatred for the old country.

From 1794 to 1799, amid the clamour of the press, neutrality gave way to conflict. Customs on tobacco and cod-liver oil, questions of prizes and contraband, proved more potent than philosophical effusions. The Directorate refused to receive the American Minister, Charles Pinckney. When three other envoys arrived, Talleyrand satisfied his former grudges and his love of money by instigating through his agents, Hottinguer, Bellamy, and Hauteval, the unsavoury intrigue against them known as the ‘X.Y.Z. affair’ which crystallized public opinion in America against France. At this time Adet, our Minister in Washington, abandoned all hope of the friendship on which his predecessors had relied: ‘Mr. Jefferson,’ he wrote, “is an American and as such cannot be a sincere friend of ours, for Americans are the born enemies of all Europeans.’ In 1798, war virtually existed. President John Adams called Washington to command the army. Vessels were armed by private subscription. Where were the pledges of 1778?

If calm returned under the Consulate, it was the work of events, not of men. The death of Washington gave Bonaparte, as First Consul, an opportunity for a theatrical manifestation. But his policy, inspired by the extreme views of our representatives in America, Moustier, Genet, Fauchet, tended to nothing less than the creation of a great French empire in the Mississippi Valley and led to the most perilous of crises; for already America was determined to be mistress of her own outlets. Jefferson wrote to Robert Livingston: “We have ever looked to her [France] as our natural friend.... There is on the globe one single spot, the possessor of which is our natural and habitual enemy. It is New Orleans, through which the produce of three-eighths of our territory must pass to market... . The day that France takes possession of New Orleans, ... we must marry ourselves to the British fleet and nation. The Treaty of San Ildefonso, by which Spain ceded her Mississippi possessions to France, brought us within measurable distance of war; but the reverse of San Domingo and the peril in which he stood on the Continent obliged Bonaparte to forego his American ambitions and strengthen his European front. He sold Louisiana to the United States, and the course of history was changed. The vendor thus described the transaction: ‘I have given England a rival, who sooner or later will abase her pride.’

Then after the War of 1812 against England — an economic conflict, as devoid of pro-French sentiment as the Louisiana sale of pro-American feeling — a dumb and empty century began, a century during which we pledged our friendship time and again, with never a deed to prove it; a century during which our traditional friendship was preserved in many noble hearts; but a century during which French civilization was without the faintest influence on the prodigious fermentation of American life, during which we never met without the risk of conflict. So it was with French intervention in Spain under the Restoration; and with French intervention in Mexico under Napoleon III. The abortion of the Second Republic, the advent of the third Bonaparte, alarmed the American people. Prussia, having subscribed liberally to Northern loans during the Civil War, became an object of sympathy. In Berlin, the Minister of the United States, Bancroft, was on terms of intimacy with Bismarck, and when, in 1871, the unity of Germany was proclaimed at Versailles on the ruins of dismembered France, President Grant hailed the new nation in an enthusiastic message to the Congress.

Was Franco-American friendship dead? No! Forty-three years later, France, again invaded, found that friendship as ardent as ever. But, as in 1914, it was of no political worth. Neither the Government nor the people took any real interest in France. Besides, the prodigious prosperity of Germany under the Hohenzollerns had made a deep impression. German science was supreme in the Universities and colleges. In 1908, Professor Miinsterberg thought himself influential enough to challenge the writer’s access to the Chair of French at Harvard University, and President Eliot’s resistance surprised the German more than it angered him. France still had devoted friends, but they were on the defensive. James H. Hyde endowed classes to make France known, so it must be she was ignored. Barrett Wendell wrote books to defend her, so it must be she was attacked.

Much more could be said, but the meaning is clear. It is certain that, however great the potentiality of friendship between France and the United States, the difficulty. of collaboration is equally great. Whosoever says to the contrary misleads our people, and paves the way through bitter disappointment to even worse misunderstanding. Let us paint the things as they are: that is our first duty. But is it enough to worship at the shrine of truth? No! Not if by explanation, things may be changed. Not if, by analyzing the origin and growth of nations, the causes of disease affecting their relations may be made clear — and perchance even a remedy found.

By the light of facts, old as well as new, public as well as private, this is the work to which I have set my hand. I am well aware that both Frenchmen and Americans are taught — and have been taught for a hundred and fifty years — that they were born to understand one another, and I see that very often they do not. I am well aware they are taught that their ‘entente’ is in the very nature of things, and I see that the fruits thereof are scant and puny. Let us reverse this policy, and look before we talk.

If, from birth to maturity, we see conditions in France and the United States not only dissimilar, but opposite; if it appears that their past makes understanding not easy, but difficult; if, geographically, historically, politically, nationally, socially, intellectually, contrasts are more frequent than affinities — then, less concerned about mistakes, we shall be better able to devise a constructive policy along new and different lines.

‘Entente, people say, is natural. That, I say, is untrue; and, if untrue, it is better to know it than to pillow our sloth upon a belief contradicted by facts. It fell to my lot to represent my country in the second of the two great Franco-American achievements. More than any, I suffered from the long train of disagreement echoing down from 1796. That is why, to the illusion of haphazard collaboration and readymade success, I oppose the necessity for constructive effort and tenacity of purpose. Franco-American friendship? None can be more fruitful if properly directed; none more barren if left to itself. This friendship must be ordered or it will be wasted. It must be organized or it will cease to be. That is the problem of to-morrow.

II

Two PEOPLES TuE national formation of a people is governed by its distinctive characteristics. Physical composition, moral trend, rhythm of growth, volume of production, all mould a nation. In these things the world offers no analogy to the United States. But if antithesis be sought, France provides it.

A thousand years and more after the material and moral birth of our country, America was founded by an arrival of immigrants. The French come of hereditary homes. The founders of New England tore themselves from theirs. In a spirit of moral revolt or commercial adventure they decided to create a new home for themselves. They landed on inhospitable soil. In the wake of three explorations, Spanish, French, and English, which searching for ancient Asia had placed the door of America ajar, they pushed on — forced westward by unrelenting fate — the Sons of Movement, its very incarnation! Beyond the wooded shores, virgin forests and boundless plains — whose appeal Daniel Webster was to voice — stretched before them. The West called them. The West was to take them for its own, though they tarried awhile in the east, a mere halt in an eternal exodus.

As water glides over marble, the human mass moved on. Instead of secular abiding, which within their narrow limits has crystallized the peculiar traits of our French provinces, there was continual change. Men of the Carolinas and Georgia moved onward to

Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas; from Virginia and Kentucky they went towards Idaho, Illinois, and Missouri; from Boston and New York towards Ohio, Wisconsin, Michigan, Iowa, and Minnesota. Every decade, for more than a century, they opened up territories the size of Switzerland, England, Italy, | France. In 1787, thirteen States; in 1926, thirty-five more, the youngest of which is not twenty years old; whereas in France there is not a province whose historic origin does not hark back to Gallo-Roman times. In France villages which, unchanged, have seen twenty-five generations handing down the torch; a nation built up by the slow agglomeration of sedentary cells, close-huddled together. Across the ocean, the Covered Wagon trekking West; a land unretentive of man which but witnessed his passing. In place of an instinct to root, a will to uproot.

In the nineteenth century, these nomads passed through three successive phases of development, no equivalent for which can be found in France. First the squatter, whose sole wealth was his courage, who hewed down forests, tilled the virgin soil, sold his holding, and moved on. Then the farmer of some substance, who built and planted and reaped till the day came when, grown rich, he sought something better. Finally the capitalist who organized, exploited, and formed trusts when the law allowed. In vain one might seek the peasants of Millet’s ‘Angelus,’ their feet rooted to the soil. The American farmer was migratory, and the enormous development of means of communication throughout the three million square miles which lay before him only increased his

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mobility. His problem was not to win a limited harvest from the measured earth, but to find richer loam for increased production to meet ever-recurring demands. The idea was not, as in France, to endure; but to progress. |

Houses rising from the ground were lived in before finished, sold before lived in. Cities? Ah, in vain one might seek the slow stratification of our French towns, growing on their old foundations, the superimposed layers of whose architecture reveal the variety of successive ages which contributed to their construction. The Western cities of America were mushroom growths of necessity ; when necessity ceased, they disappeared. First, a railway station, then a bank, a tramway, and a store; their birth dictated by a man or by the location of a railroad. The rails, which merely served to link our French towns, actually created cities in America. The initial population renewed itself within a few months. Men changed as rapidly as the tools; changed their calling as readily as their residence. Space attracted them; its call never went unheeded. There was no near perspective to stabilize; only a distant perspective to mobilize.

This new life created a new race. Two initial characteristics of which France knows nothing: extreme insecurity of conditions, and extreme equality of opportunity. A fair chance is the essence of this life, and may the best man win. Men who make good under these conditions have nothing in common with street-bred villagers who live and die in the shadow of belfries ten centuries older than themselves. Ignorant of localization, they are ignorant of specialization; that dominant characteristic of ‘France, as Henry James saw it. The son does not wait, as with us, for the death of his father to carry on his work in the same place. Every one makes his own way in life, and then proceeds to change it. Every day the book of life records a new picture. At a time when France produced M. Guizot and M. Royer Collard, what was the American type? Andrew Jackson, lawyer, judge, planter, party leader, merchant, general, Congressman, President; neither cultivated nor classified; a Jack of all trades and all times.

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