Chapter 5
Section 5 of Imperialism and World Politics, Part 1 of 4, by Parker Thomas Moon. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Read by Alistair. Chapter 4, Dynamics of Imperialism. Subsection, Men and Motives. Language often obscures truth. More than is ordinarily realised, our eyes are blinded to the facts of international relations by tricks of the tongue. When one uses
the simple monosyllable France, one thinks of France as a unit, an entity. When to avoid awkward repetition we use a personal pronoun in referring to a country. When, for example, we say, France sent her troops to conquer Tanis, we impute not only unity but personality to the country. the very words conceal the facts and make international relations a glamorous drama
in which personalised nations are the actors and all too easily we forget the flesh and blood men and women who are the true actors how different it would be if we had no such word as France
and had to say instead 38 million men, women and children of very diversified interests and beliefs inhabiting 218 square miles of territory Then we should more accurately describe the Tunis expedition in some such way as this.
A few of these 38 million persons sent 30,000 others to conquer Tunis. This way of putting the fact immediately suggests a question, or rather a series of questions. Who were the few? Why did they send the 30,000 to Tunis? And why did these obey?
Empire building is not done by nations, but men. the problem before us is to discover the men, the active interested minorities in each nation who are directly interested in imperialism, and then to analyse the reasons why the majorities pay the expenses and fight the wars necessitated by imperialist expansion. Subsection. Business interests. First and foremost among the active imperialist groups
come certain business interests, not the whole so-called capitalist class, as many an earnest socialist would have us believe, but only a minority of business interests are directly interested in imperialism. They are easily identified. To begin with, there are the exporters and manufacturers of certain goods used in the colonies. The following figures of English exports to India tell the story. Table ends at about 3 minutes 48 seconds. English exports to
India, average 1920 through 1922. Cotton goods and yarn, 53,577,000 pounds sterling. Iron and steel, tools, machinery and locomotives, 37,423,000 pounds sterling. Wagons, trucks and automobiles, 4,274,000 pounds sterling. Paper, 1,858,000 pounds sterling. Brass goods, 1,813,000 pounds sterling. Woolens, 1,600,000 pounds sterling. Tobacco, 1,023,000 pounds sterling. No other item over £1 million sterling. End of table. Obviously, the cotton industry and the iron industry are
the most important factors. The imports of most other colonies and backward countries tell almost exactly the same story of cotton and iron, with minor variations. Many colonies provide a sponge-like market for cheap alcoholic beverages. Cigarettes have fifth place in Chinese imports. In some cases, coal is important, kerosene has also played a significant role, but cotton and iron have been dominant. In more human terms, the makers of cotton and iron goods have been very vitally
interested in imperialism. Their business interests demand the opening up and development of colonial markets, and in many cases, the exclusion of foreign competitors. Such aims require political control imperialism one specific instance may show how important imperialistic control over colonies is to these business groups india if free would long ago have established a tariff to protect indian spinners and weavers against british competition but the cotton manufacturers
of lancashire england have used imperial england's authority to prevent any such blow to their business. When in 1896 a small import duty of three and a half percent was established by the Indian government, the London government, pressed by British cotton barons, insisted that the effect of the duty be nullified by a countervailing excise duty of three and a half percent on Indian cottons. Footnote. In 1917 the duty on imported cotton goods was raised to seven and a half percent
without a corresponding increase in the 3.5% excise on Indian cottons, so that a net protection of 4% was afforded. In 1925, the excise was abolished. Compare Infra, page 310. See Imperialism and World Politics, Part 3, Section 2, Chapter 13b, Imperialism in Southern Asia.
End of footnote. As one Indian remarked, There are indeed 60 good reasons for this British interference, for there are 60 Lancashire members who have votes in the House of Commons. Next in line come the import interests. British merchants who import tea from India,
the Belgians who import rubber and palm nuts from Congo, the Frenchmen who import wines from Algeria, are vital factors in imperialism. The development of such business enterprises on a large scale requires at least a degree of orderly government sufficient to protect investments in plantations, warehouses and railways. Often it demands expensive public works such as dams, irrigation systems, roads and railways which a backward native government cannot or will not undertake. Occasionally also, governmental authority is considered necessary to compel natives to work.
In short, imperial control by a progressive nation is demanded, and the importers, together with planters and other allied interests, usually desire that the imperial control shall be wielded by their own nation, because it is from there they may hope to receive privileged treatment. There is only one reason why 197 million francs worth of rubber, palm nuts and palm oil, copple and copper from Belgian Congo are exported to Belgium and handled by Belgian merchants,
whereas only 13 millions go to England and 17 millions to all America, and only two-fifths of a million to France. The reason is that Belgium owns Congo, and the Belgian importers are aware of this fact, as are their competitors in other imperialist countries. Of late years, this group of import industries has been enormously strengthened by the demand of giant industries for colonial raw materials, rubber, petroleum, iron and coal, cotton, cocoa. The oil trusts of
England and the United States have enlisted the aid of naval and diplomatic officials in their worldwide rivalry. The cotton industry of Germany hoped to obtain from Asiatic Turkey, under German imperialist control, raw cotton for German spindles. The cotton interests of England have been striving for a generation to develop plantations in British colonies. Their French and Italian rivals have hardly been less interested in colonial potentialities. The European cotton
industry, it may be remarked, as an export business and as an import business, is doubly imperialist. Shipping magnates form a third powerful business group, the Annals of Empire building Bristle, with the names of ship owners. It is no accident that the greatest shipping nation has the greatest of empires. Ship owners demand coaling stations for their vessels, and naval bases for protection. They desire development of colonial trade, and of immigration.
It was William, later Sir William, MacKinnon. A little dapper man, upright, with an acline nose, side whiskers, a pouting mouth, and a strutting manner of walking. Chief owner of the British India Steam Navigation Company, who first proposed that the British should take Zanzibar, and who later organised a group of British capitalists to develop East Africa.
To these interest groups may be added the makers of armament and of uniforms, the producers of telegraph and railway material, and other supplies used by the government in its colonies. These have been aptly styled the parasites of imperialism. They do not directly cause imperialism, but thrive on it. Finally, the most influential of all business groups, the bankers,
may be said not only to have a direct interest in imperialism through colonial investments, but to represent indirectly all the above-mentioned interests, for banks have financial fingers in every industrial pie. The many billions of francs, pounds and dollars invested in colonies have been invested through banks for the most part. Banks underwrite the loans of colonies and backward countries.
The capital issues of railways and steamship lines. They extend credit to colonial plantation owners, to importers and exporters, to manufacturers and distributors. The six largest Berlin banks in pre-war days were represented through interlocking directorates in more than 300 industrial corporations. The Deutsche Bank was the mainspring of German imperialism in the Near East. The Rothschilds, it will be recalled, lent Israeli money to buy
shares in the Suez Canal and, more than that, utilised their political influence to bring about the conquest of Egypt. The French conquest of Tunis has been called a piece of high finance, and coup de bourse. The National City Bank has played an important role in the Caribbean policy of the United States. British bankers have established literally thousands of colonial branches. All these business interests taken together may be less important than the interests
which have no direct concern in imperialism, since nothing like half the world's commerce, shipping, production and finance is accounted for by colonies. Footnote. In 1922 through 1923, the total international commerce of the world was almost 50 billion dollars, of which the colonies and protectorates accounted for about 10 billions, and other partially dependent countries, Cuba, Nicaragua, Panama, Dominican Republic, Haiti, Egypt and Liberia, which are nominally independent,
accounted for another billion. End of footnote. But the imperialist business interests are powerful, well-organized and active. Through lobbies and campaign funds, they influence political parties. For example, Mr. Doheny, being interested in Mexican oil, gave generous contributions to both of the major parties in the United States, in order to make sure that his Mexican interests would be favourably regarded in any case. Cecil Rhodes, the Diamond King of South Africa,
contributed to the Liberal Party on condition that it would not scuttle out of Egypt, for he needed Egypt as the northern terminus for his projected Cape to Cairo railway and telegraph line. But campaign contributions represent only one of innumerable methods of influencing the government. A Bismarck, a Wilhelm II, a Nicholas II, or a lesser official may be induced to invest in colonial enterprises. The son-in-law of a president may be paid a handsome retainer
to use his influence at the White House in favour of American oil interests in Mexico. A Cecil Rhodes may purchase newspapers to praise his projects. The methods are legion. Subsection. Their allies. Moreover, the imperialist business interests have influential allies, military and naval officers are often predisposed in favour of imperialism. Rear Admiral Rogers, retired, recently declared that,
If our successors remain a virile people as the world fills up, they will remain armed to take what they want at the expense of others. The United States, he believed, would have to engage in imperialist conquests when its population passed the 200 million mark. Admiral Dewey urged annexation of the Philippines.
Lord Fisher, rugged British sea dog, joined forces with the oil interests to secure Britain's navy an adequate supply of oil. Similar illustrations could be multiplied endlessly for every imperialist nation. Military and naval leaders who have helped conquer colonies usually believe ardently in the desirability of extending
the white man's dominion over the inferior races. to think otherwise would be unnatural for an officer who has won his spurs in colonial wars for one of the strongest of our impulses is to find some justification for our own work furthermore by mental processes more often subconscious than conscious fighting men sometimes proceed from the premise that promotions are more rapid in expanding armies and navies
to the conclusion that in a world of greed and force, each nation must remain armed to take what they want at the expense of others. Rarely is the militarist's belief in armaments and expansion consciously based on class interest or personal advantage, but it would be difficult to find a clearer case of class psychology.
Quite similar is the interest of diplomatists, colonial officials and their families. Prestige and advancement are almost assured for the diplomatist who obtains something for his country. Colonial officials make careers and names for themselves, not by prosaic administration, but by adding new provinces to old. As their profession is the governing of backward races,
they feel certain their country's mission is to govern more and ever more of the coloured peoples. An altruistic professional faith blends with personal ambition. One needs but mention the name of a Lord Milner, a Lord Curzon, a Lord Cromer, a Sir Harry Johnston to support this statement. Their deeds will appear in later pages, but the host of more obscure administrators should not be ignored in favour of a few celebrities. Thousands of families in England
and France have provided recruits for the colonial administration and take a kind of family pride in imperialism. Some of these families are very influential, particularly in England, where so many are proud but impecunious noblemen, finds in imperialism a solution of the problem of younger sons. For all except the eldest heir must be located in honourable professions such as parliament, the church, the army, the navy or the colonies. To this motley company of businessmen, fighting men
and younger sons must be added another incongruous element, the missionary. The 19th century, following hard on the heels of an age of doubt, witnessed a remarkable religious revival in Europe, and one of the most notable manifestations of increased fervour was the sudden expansion of missionary effort. Going out to preach a kingdom not of this world, missionaries found themselves very often builders of very earthly empires. Sometimes they promoted imperialism quite
unintentionally. Being killed by savages, for example, was a very effective, though not a deliberate, patriotic service, inasmuch as it might afford the home country a reason or a pretext for conquest. Thus, the murder of two German missionaries in China gave Germany a pretext for seizing a Chinese port. But more important was the direct impetus intentionally given to imperialism by missionaries. Livingston, the famous Scottish missionary to Africa,
desired with all his heart that British rule might be extended in the dark continent to wipe out slavery, to spread civilization and Christianity. Fabry, who we have mentioned as one of the leading advocates of colonial expansion in Bismarck's time, was inspector of a German missionary society active in southwest Africa. He probably converted more Germans to imperialism than Africans to Christianity. Time and again, missionaries in some savage land have called upon their mother
country to raise its protecting flag above them. Time and again, British missionaries have persuaded a converted chieftain to offer his fealty to the British crown. Protestant missionaries representing national churches have doubtless been particularly predisposed to regard themselves as representatives, pioneers, of their own nation. But Catholic missionaries of France, though their creed was international, were hardly less nationalistic in aiding the expansion of French power in Africa.
Often too, missionaries, by teaching natives to wear clothes and use tools, have paved the way for the merchant, who in turn has brought the warship. And while missionaries toiled in heathen lands, enthusiastic missionary societies at home and the leaders of the churches learned to take a direct interest in Asia, Africa and the South Sea Islands, and to urge upon statesmen the need of extending civilised Christian government over benighted pagans. In all this there is a note of
tragic irony. Where grasping merchant and murderous machine gun followed the missionary's trail, the message of Christianity was not always appreciated, nor were Christian morals advanced by the gin and venereal disease brought by trader and soldier. But the fact remains that missionary organisations were among the active groups which promoted imperialism. Explorers and adventurers, if we may couple them with prejudice to neither, were conspicuous in the early days of imperialism.
Henry Morton Stanley was something of both, and a journalist to boot. By birth he was a Welshman of the name Rowlands. Born in Wales of a poor family, he ran away from school to find work in the city of Liverpool, first in Haberdasher's shop, then with a butcher. When this grew tedious, he worked his way across the sea to New Orleans.
There he was adopted by a merchant by the name of Henry Morton Stanley, whose name he accepted and later made illustrious. Young Stanley had begun a prosaic existence as a country storekeeper in Arkansas when the Civil War called him to a more stirring career. Enlisting in the Confederate Army, he was captured by the enemy.
With ready versatility, he then joined the Union Army to fight against his former comrades-in-arms. Toward the close of the war, he discovered a latent talent for journalism. which, when peace returned, led him to Salt Lake City to describe the extraordinary customs of the Mormons, then to Asia Minor in search of thrilling adventure, then with General Hancock against the Indians, with the British against Abyssinia, and to Crete and Spain. When David
Livingston, the famous missionary explorer, was lost in the heart of Africa, Stanley was selected by James Gordon Bennett, owner of the Herald, to find him, and Stanley did. This exploit in 1871 converted Stanley into an African explorer. In succeeding years, he made repeated trips into the interior of Africa. We are not concerned here with the details of his explorations, however, but with his influence on imperialism. After making his historic journey in the years
1874 through 1877 across the hitherto unexplored Congo basin in Central Africa, Stanley became an apostle of imperialism. With eloquent pen and tongue, he portrayed the marvellous economic potentialities of the region he had discovered. But far from being sordidly materialistic, he urged the sending of missionaries, the abolition of the slave trade, and the civilisation of the natives. How this extraordinary adventurer-explorer-journalist, failing to arouse
the interest of cautious English capitalists, lent his services to Leopold of Belgium and established a huge empire for that monarch, a later chapter will tell. But a speech he delivered before a gathering of the Manchester Chamber of Commerce, chiefly cotton merchants, may perhaps be quoted in part. Assuming that civilisation and Christianity would teach the naked negroes of Congo to wear decent cotton clothes, at least on Sundays, he estimated that one Sunday dress for
each native would mean 320 million yards of Manchester cotton cloth. Cheers from the audience. And in time, when the natives had learned the importance of covering their nakedness on weekdays as well as Sundays. The amount of cloth required would amount to £26 million sterling per annum. In his peroration he fused the mercantile and missionary motives in masterly style. There are forty millions of people beyond the gateway of the Congo, and the cartonspinners
of Manchester are waiting to clothe them. Birmingham foundries are glowing with the red metal that will presently be made into ironwork for them, and the trinkets that shall adorn those dusky bosoms, and the ministers of Christ are zealous to bring them, the poor benighted heathen, into the Christian fold. Stanley may have been unique in his versatility and his logic, but as an imperialist explorer he was in some measure typical of scores. It was a German
explorer, Gustav Nachtigal, who declared the German protectorates in Cameroon and Togoland. Henry Hamilton Johnston, later Sir Harry, began his career as a scientific explorer, interested in architecture and art and languages and biology, but became an empire builder in Africa, annexing vast territories for England and striving to complete the Cape to Cairo route of which he dreamed. There is no need to lengthen the list beyond the reader's patience.
Last, but by no means least, let us add a sprinkling of politicians to our already heterogeneous array of active empire builders with definite personal interests at stake. Some premiers and presidents have acted more or less unwillingly at the instigation of business and other interest groups. Gladstone, for example, was compelled to seize Egypt, though his heart may have been heavy. Bismarck yielded to the imperialist only after long resistance.
Woodrow Wilson opposed imperialism with extraordinary courage, yet was driven to more than one imperialist enterprise. But others have deliberately promoted imperialism, either because they believed in it, or because they felt that it would bring prestige and votes, or campaign contributions.
Disraeli apparently believed in England's Eastern Empire, and at the same time was very much aware of the strength of the appeal he could make to voters on the issue of national pride. Roosevelt, with his big-stick policy and his rough-rider campaign parades, skillfully stimulated and utilised imperialist sentiment in America.
subsection, interests and ideas. But a sceptical reader may object, imposing as the array of importers, exporters, shippers, financiers, admirals, generals, officials, diplomats, missionaries, explorers and politicians may appear when reviewed in detail. Still, it remains true that these active imperialist interests are minority interests. The overwhelming majority of a nation has no direct business or professional or military interest in colonial empire. Not only
is this true of the poorer classes, who of course have no colonial investments, but it applies also to many, probably a majority of capitalists and businessmen. Indeed, imperialism might appear to be directly contrary to the economic interests of many businessmen. For instance, American ownership of Hawaii injures the beet sugar producers by admitting Hawaiian cane sugar free of duty. French ownership of Algeria may injure French wine producers by developing the production of
Algerian wine, much of which is used to slake the thirst of Frenchmen in substitution for domestic vintages. The issue is not between capital and the masses. Capital is divided, one section against another, one industry against another. Why then does the majority so cheerfully follow the leadership of the imperialist minorities. Not direct interests, but ideas, not property or profession, but principles, actuate the public at large. The theories spread broadcast by imperialist
propaganda are the dynamic factors impelling nations to send out armies, defray expenditures, risk wars, for the conquest of distant colonies and protectorates. It requires ideas attuned to the instinctive emotions to make modern nations fight. The ideas which have been particularly potent in imperialism are the idea of preventative self-defence, which awakens the primitive emotion of fear, the idea of surplus population, resting on the instinct of self-preservation,
the ideas of economic nationalism and national prestige, appealing to instincts of gregariousness and self-aggrandisement, and an aggressive sort of altruism which gratifies our innate pride. These ideas require analysis. Fear, so easily aroused in the human soul, and so powerful once awakened, is a cardinal factor in imperialist world politics. The citizens of modern nations fear attack, defeat, conquest. To persuade them that such calamities may be prevented by preparedness
for war is a relatively easy task, as the universality of armies and navies all too convincingly testifies. But of what use is a navy without coaling stations and naval bases? Thus the argument proceeds, if hostile fleets are to be held off from a vulnerable coast, the nation must have outlying naval bases and defeat the enemy squadrons before they approach. That Great Britain has secured naval bases in all the seven seas, every schoolboy knows.
But Great Britain is not unique in this respect. The need of naval bases was one of the chief arguments used by Jules Ferry in the 80s to justify French annexations. It is one of the most popular justifications for American ownership of the Philippines, Hawaii, Samoa, Puerto Rico, the Danish West Indies. It has given anxiety to the Japanese, the Germans, the Dutch, the Italians. A kindred theory, springing from the same motive of self-protection,
is that a nation must control raw material in time of war. It is all very well, imperialists argue, to purchase iron and coal, and cotton and rubber and nitrate, and oil, from neighbours in time of peace. But in war, a nation must have its own supplies, else its cannon will lack shells, its arsenals will stand idle without coal, its warships,
tanks and aeroplanes will have no fuel, its laboratories will look in vain for ingredients for explosives. What argument could be more plausible or more moving? The unimpassioned student may perhaps inquire whether the ownership of oil wells in some distant colony will be of value in war to any except the supreme naval power, that is England. But to the man in the streets such doubt rarely occurs. Even more influential has been the idea that the great
civilised nations, being overpopulated, need colonies as outlets for their surplus population. To France, of course, no such argument could be applied, nor was it much used in England. But it has enjoyed an extraordinary vogue in Germany, Japan and Italy, and it is not unfamiliar in the United States. In a densely populated country, where competition for employment is keen and the cost of living is rising, it is easy to believe that overcrowding is responsible for
unemployment and poverty, and that additional breathing room for the teeming millions is an absolute necessity. The case is all the more convincing if thousands of emigrants are annually leaving their overcrowded mother country to find homes in more spacious lands. Germany was in this situation on the eve of the outburst of imperialism. In the decade from 1871 to 1880, no fewer than 625,968 Germans forsook the fatherland to become inhabitants of the United States, Brazil, and other
foreign countries. And yet, the population in Germany increased at the same time, from 41 to over 45 millions. After 1880, the figures became even more startling. In the years 1881 to 1884, some 747,168 Germans emigrated, more in the four years than in the previous decade. Such figures, the imperialist propagandists in Germany, used with telling effect. Germans became so profoundly convinced of their surplus population that the argument was still being mouthed long after the
immigration figures had sunk, as they did in the 1890s and after, to an insignificant figure. And after the growth of population in Germany to 50, then to 60, then to 65 millions had demonstrated that the anxiety expressed in the 80s was quite unwarranted. The Italian public likewise was alarmed by the immigration figures, which rose from 94,000 in 1881 to 118,000 in 1891 to 282,000 in 1901, and have continued to exceed 200,000 a year.
Most of these emigrants, to be sure, have gone to European and American countries, and many have returned to Italy with their savings. But Italian imperialists have eloquently urged the necessity of African colonies as outlets for this tide, regardless of the fact that emigrants seem to prefer civilised countries where employment is easily found. In Japan, an increase of population from 33 to 56 millions during the half-century after 1872,
and the emigration of about 600,000 during the same period, provided imperialists with plausible grounds for their thesis that Japan must be permitted to conquer colonies to relieve overcrowding. Curiously enough, this was one of the arguments popularly used to justify Japan's seizure of the Chinese province of Shantung in 1915,
although Shantung happens to be more densely populated than Japan. A little reflection reveals the fallacy of using surplus population as an argument for imperialism. Development of industry and commerce enables supposedly overpopulated countries to support ever-increasing populations. For such development, a country needs increased investment of capital at home.
Emigrants leave not because there is no room for them, but because they believe they can earn more money or enjoy greater freedom elsewhere, and they seek prosperity regardless of flag or nationality in the country that seems to offer the most attractive opportunities. The colonies that were to be had, and were taken,
during the imperialist era from 1875 to the present, have been unsuitable for European colonisation, and have failed to attract immigrants. We shall return to this problem later on. But for the present, the point to be made is that the idea of surplus population, fallacious as it may be, has been, and still is, a vital factor in popularising
imperialism. The third popular belief, which we have called economic nationalism, has already been elucidated, but needs practical application here. The teachings of economists and arguments of Liszt and Fabry and Ferry and Chamberlain, and their compares, have sunk so deeply into the popular consciousness that Europeans, except socialists and many Americans, take it for granted that there is such a thing as national wealth, and that this thing is increased if a
rich colony or profitable concession is secured overseas. The diamond and gold mines of South Africa are regarded as an addition to Britain's store of wealth. The resources of North Africa are added to those of France. The profits to be made by an oil concession in the Near East or in Mexico are added to the income of the American nation. Germany, it has been generally assumed, was made poorer by the loss of her colonies in 1919. There might be other ways of looking at
such matters. Norman Angel and other persuasive pacifists have endeavoured to prove that conquests do not profit a nation. A sceptic may ask whether national wealth is more than a phrase. Certainly the profits of Cecil Rhodes were not shared by the denizens of the London slums, nor have the dividends from Mexican oil been distributed equally throughout the American nation. One might even go further and inquire whether the Boer War, while profitable to mine
owners, did not prove an actual loss in money to the bulk of English taxpayers. But national sentiment stills all such doubts, and perhaps even a pauper may have some share in the glorious consciousness that we own rich mines here, and fertile fields there, that we have billions invested in tropical lands. And certainly national sentiment responds with instant thrill when one's fellow countrymen clash with foreigners in rivalry for a railway concession in some
backward country, or for the commerce of a colony. So strong is this sentiment that applause rather than surprise greets the action of the foreign minister or secretary of state who officially takes up diplomatic cudgels to defend against foreign competitors the business interests of certain citizens belonging to his nation. Albeit he would not think of giving the same governmental support to a private business interest at home. Quite as subtle and as potent is the complex of
imperialist ideas clustering around the notion that a nation's honour and prestige must be zealously cherished. The fundamental impulse is primitive enough to be easily comprehended. Each of us naturally desires any group or organisation with which he is identified to be better than rival groups. Our own egotism or vanity may perhaps be at the bottom of the desire, for we enjoy the prestige reflected upon us by our group. We enjoy this prestige whether it is
reflected by our family, our fraternity, our college, our club, our team, our city, our state or our nation. Most of all our nation. We are willing to die for that, but not for club or college. The impulse may be simple, but the applications in imperialism are subtle. For example, the desire for prestige for greatness impels Italian taxpayers to pour out hundreds of millions of lira on a relatively barren African empire. Possessing unprofitable and rebellious,
but impressively extensive colonies enables Italians to feel that they belong to a great power, that theirs is one of the imperial races. The hearts of true Britons beat faster at the thought of England's world empire and world mission, at the sight of world maps showing Britain's vast possessions, all coloured in conspicuous red. Germans, before the great defeat, demanded their place in the sun, meaning a large share of tropical Africa and Asia,
as the rightful heritage of a great nation, and eagerly published maps showing Germany's ambitious claims. Frenchmen, learning the phrases of Ferri, repeated the prophecy that unless France built up a great African empire, she would become a second or third-rate power, and what patriot desires his nation to be third-rate? The same solicitude for prestige is responsible for the belief that a nation, a great nation, must punish atrocities or insults to the flag, and protect its
citizens and their property in other countries. To refuse protection, most of us feel, is to sacrifice national honour. No proud nation can tolerate affronts. The blowing up of the United States battleship Maine had to be avenged in blood. If German missionaries are murdered in China, Germany must maintain her honour by seizing a Chinese port, and by exacting reparation and apologies. If British fortune hunters surge into the South African Republic, attracted by the gold
mines, and are denied the vote, British statesmen indignantly protest that Englishmen are not to be treated as helots, and British armies are sent to conquer the country. If an Italian girl is kidnapped by a Muslim, Italy is justified in seizing Tripoli. If Mexicans refuse a salute to the Stars and Stripes, American Marines Occupy Veracruz. Footnote. They did not actually refuse. Compare Infra. Page 444. See Imperialism and World Politics Part 3 Section 10. Chapter 16C.
The Policy of the United States Toward Latin America. Oil and Turmoil in Mexico. End of footnote. If Chinese officials arrest murderers on a ship flying the British flag, Britain has reason to make war on China and demand Chinese territory. National honour must be maintained. National honour is at stake also when two imperialist nations contend for the dubious privilege of conquering a backward nation. When, for example, Germany questions the right of France
to subject the unruly and bankrupt African Empire of Morocco, it would be humiliating for France to yield, and no less humiliating for Germany. National honour is involved. Even though a compromise may be effected, there will be widespread resentment in both countries, for national honour admits of no compromise. Finally, some attention must be given to what may be called, for lack of a better name, aggressive altruism. Kipling styled it the
white man's burden. His celebrated poem, written in 1899, urges us to take up the white man's burden, send forth the best ye breed, go bind your sons to exile, to serve your captive's need, To wait in heavy harness, on fluttered fold and wild, Your new-caught sullen peoples, half-devil and half-child. The white man's burden in plain prose is to govern and civilise the Asiatics and Africans,
the backward peoples who are half-devil and half-child, sullen and wild. Jules Free made it plainer. The superior races, including France naturally, have the duty of civilising the inferior races. France has a mission civilisatrice in Africa. Germans devoutly believed in their call to give German culture to the hapless Negroes of Africa, or more accurately, to impose it upon them by
force. Americans, to a lesser degree, take pride in the sanitary, educational and other reforms which they have achieved in conquered islands of the Caribbean and Pacific. President McKinley declared as a reason for annexing the Philippine Islands that there was nothing left for us to do but to take them all and to educate the Filipinos and uplift and civilise and Christianise them as our fellow men for whom Christ also died.
Wilson's Mexican policy was as Ambassador Page told the British government shooting men into self-government. The British Foreign Secretary found this phrase difficult to grasp but he had no difficulty in appreciating England's beneficent task of keeping order in India and other disorderly countries. This is altruism and aggressive altruism because it means using force, brutal force, to impose on unwilling native peoples the blessings of
French or German or British or American civilization. Indeed, this altruism goes to such lengths that the civilizing nations are willing not only to shoot Hindus or Zulus or Filipinos or Mexicans into culture, but even to undergo the hardships of war with equally zealous civilizing nations, and to call upon savages from Africa, as they did in 1914, to join the battle in behalf of the superior variety of European civilization, and altruism so earnest as this
is a very important factor in the popular support for imperialism. Altruism, national honor, economic nationalism, surplus population, self-protection, such are the principles or ideas which nerve nations to valiant feats of empire building. The initiative, to be sure, is taken by interests, but the support is given by ideas. When a colony or a protectorate is acquired, the first steps are taken as a rule, by the business or naval or missionary interests
described in the first part of this chapter. Not infrequently, the public, ignorant not only of what has been going on, but even of the geographical location of the region about to be annexed, is confronted by an accomplished deed, a fait accompli, which needs only to be officially solemnified, popularly applauded, and, perchance, defended. Then the ideas function. The public rallies to the support of importer, exporter, banker or shipper, missionary, administrator,
admiral or explorer. Imperialism, nay, all history, is made by the dynamic alliance of interests and ideas. End of section 5
