[April 1915]
The ‘Letters of Historicus’—General Position of the Neutral Merchant—Use
of Neutral Flags by Merchantmen to Escape Capture or Destruction—First
American Note to Great Britain—British Interim
Reply—The Complete Reply—First American Note to Germany—German
Reply—Evolution of the Doctrines of Contraband of War
and Blockade—Meaning of Neutrality—Contraband of War—Conditional
Contraband—Declaration of Paris as to Freedom of Neutral
Goods and of Enemy Goods under Neutral Flag—Prize Courts—The
Conflicting Rights of Neutral Merchants and of Belligerents—The
Right and Duty of Search—Doctrine of Continuous Voyages—Embargo—Blockade—The
New Policy of the British Government—Foreign
Enlistment—Proclamations of Neutrality.
The intellectual barometer stands at ‘Hazy’ on
the subject of neutrality, even in this country.
In Germany it has ceased to register anything
which even pretends to be intelligent. In the
United States there are what might aptly be
called cyclonic and anti-cyclonic disturbances.
If my view as to English knowledge of the subject
be questioned, I would ask my readers how often
they have of late met in the newspapers the phrase
‘duties of neutrals,’ and what answer they have
found to the inevitable query, ‘Which be they?’
Within the last few weeks I read a contribution
to The Times from ‘A Legal Correspondent,’
in which these duties were referred to in most
bewildering fashion. He said that there existed
special bonds between this country and the United
States; that both have stringent Foreign Enlistment
Acts; that both agree to what are known
as the ‘Three Rules’ of the Washington Treaty
as to the duties of neutrals, and that both had
promised to bring these Rules to the notice of
other States. This statement was painfully misleading;
the ‘Three Rules’ were agreed to as
the basis on which the Alabama arbitration was
to be decided, and related solely to the subject
known as ‘Foreign Enlistment.’[7] But if by ‘duties
of neutrals’ is meant, as I presume to be the case,
the duties of neutral Governments, they can be
summarised in one great negative—to do nothing,
except when they are called on to defend their
neutrality against the action of either belligerent,
inter alia, in the cases provided for by the
Hague Convention of 1907 relating to neutrality.
So far-reaching is this universal negative that it
includes non-interference with their merchants in
their dealings with belligerents.[8] If, however, the
term refers to duties of neutral merchants, then
it is inapt and misleadingly inaccurate; for the
existence of any such general duty as to cease
trading, for which the Germans are so strenuously
contending, is wholly imaginary.
Fifty years ago another continent was riven
with war, and there was much talk of what a
neutral might do, and might not do; and there
appeared in The Times a series of letters signed
‘Historicus,’ in which, among other things, the elementary
principles of neutrality were very strenuously
and very lucidly set forth. Very strenuously,
for there was a certain M. Hautefeuille who had
filled the world—like the Dernburgs of to-day—with
much unsound doctrine. Now unsound doctrine
was a thing which stirred Mr. Vernon Harcourt
to the depths of his soul, and those only who
have heard him know what waves of wrath surged
up in his brain. He had the art of transferring
to paper the billowy language he was wont to
use; and as you read you hear the rotund sentences
rolling onwards to swamp the frail bark
of his adversary. But he had another art: of
clear thinking and lucid exposition. In the series
of Whewell Lectures which I attended at Cambridge
in the year of grace ——, of which I still
preserve my notes, he seemed to make plain the
whole mystery of Public International Law. New
times have produced new teachers of the old
heresies; and it is good to turn once more to the
pages of the ‘Letters of Historicus,’ for again
the neutral nations are invited to ‘upset the whole
fabric of international law which the reason of
jurists has designed and the usage of nations has
built up.’ To adapt his references[9] to Burke
and Canning to himself, ‘I would that we had yet
amongst us his multitudinous eloquence and his
poignant wit to do justice upon this presumptuous
sciolism’ of the German Foreign Office. The world,
indeed, seems still to need his teaching. From
what one hears in the market-place I gather that
there is a vague feeling in the air that our case is
not quite so good as we should like it to be; that
there is a mysterious crevice in our armour-joints
through which, if not the German, at least Uncle
Sam has pricked us. There is a nebulous ‘something’
about neutrality, especially about ‘neutral
duties,’ which seems to preclude accurate thinking;
and even the ‘Legal Correspondent’ does not
always pierce the haze. So the student, in memory
of an hour spent after lecture in his master’s
rooms in Neville’s Court, when kindly patient,
and so lucidly, he expounded to him the meaning
of a difficult decision, will endeavour to weave into
a continuous whole the threads of the doctrine
which he taught. It is not that people do not
know; only that they forget.
The neutral merchant is the centre round which
the principal doctrines of international law dealing
with neutrality have gathered. It seems strange
at first that in time of war the commercial rights
of a mere money-making civilian should invariably
form the subject of endless discussions; but this
civilian really holds a very important position in
the waging of war; it could not go on without
him. Each belligerent has need of him, and it is
essential to each to prevent the other from satisfying
that need. To block the enemy’s communications
with the neutral merchant is one of the surest
ways of ending the war. To this end many ingenious
things have been devised, and as many
equally ingenious to counteract them; and in this
the merchant’s fertile brain has materially assisted.
The problem is a complex one, for each belligerent
as a buyer must strive to keep him in a good humour,
but as a fighter must do all he can to thwart him.
As for the neutral merchant himself, he is calmly indifferent
to the merits of the fight; nothing pleases
him so much as to be ‘Jack of Both Sides.’ He
will take all he can get from one side and cry out
for more from the other. When the War is over
we may muse philosophically on some aspects of
the Protest which the United States Government
has addressed to Great Britain on behalf of its
merchants; for the present, with all its serious issues
hanging in the balance, the American Notes require
careful study, for they themselves raise an issue
as serious as any which the War has raised—whether
Great Britain has been true to the principles
she has so often preached, or whether the German
accusation, or the American suggestion, that she
has violated them can be substantiated; whether,
when all is over, we shall be able to say proudly
that it has been War with Honour.
Two Notes have been addressed to Great
Britain, and it will be convenient to refer at once
to the second Note, which deals with the use by
our merchantmen of neutral flags. The neutral
merchant is directly concerned with this custom of
the sea, for he may have cargo on board, and if
this means of deceiving the enemy’s warships
is declared to be illegal he runs the chance of
its being sent to the bottom.
The facts which gave rise to the Note are of
the simplest. On the 30th of January two German
submarines appeared off Liverpool, and, giving the
crews ten minutes to take to the boats, torpedoed
and sank some British merchant vessels. On
the 6th of February the Lusitania, coming up the
Irish Channel at the end of her voyage from New
York, hoisted the Stars and Stripes and came safely
to harbour. To these simple facts are to be added,
according to the German version, that the Admiralty
advised the master by wireless to hoist the American
flag; or had issued a secret order to merchant
ships in general to hoist a neutral flag in the
circumstances. Whether these facts are accurate
or not is absolutely immaterial; but the Germans
have based on them the charge of violation of
international law. It should be noted with surprised
wonder that the German Admiralty seems
to have forgotten that the Emden sailed into
Penang harbour flying the Japanese ensign, and
that this, added to her other disguises, enabled
her to accomplish her raid successfully.[10] The
United States Government, having been appealed
to by Germany, addressed a Note to Great Britain,
to the great jubilation of her adversary; for she
had just planned the infamy of her new piracy,
and the smart of the thrashing administered to
herself was somewhat mitigated by the fact that
the other boy got a ‘wigging’ too. The position
of the United States is so delicate, her diplomatic
officers have achieved so much, her people have
done and said so many things that have gone
to our hearts, that it is impossible to be querulous
at the presentation of the Note; yet, when it is
analysed, it seems to go far beyond what was
necessary to the occasion, and it has enabled
Germany to confuse, in her usual clumsy fashion,
the post and the propter in the sequence of events.
The Government of the United States reserved
for future consideration the legality and propriety
of the deceptive use of the flag of a neutral Power
in any case for the purpose of avoiding capture;
but pointed out that the occasional use of the
flag of a neutral or of an enemy under stress of
immediate pursuit, and to deceive an approaching
enemy, was
a very different thing from the explicit sanction by a
belligerent Government for its merchant ships generally
to fly the flag of a neutral Power within certain portions
of the high seas which, it is presumed, will be frequented
with hostile warships. A formal declaration of such
a policy for the general misuse of a neutral’s flag jeopardises
the vessels of a neutral visiting those waters
in a peculiar degree by raising the presumption that
they are of belligerent nationality, regardless of the flag
they may carry.
The Note declared that the United States
would view with anxious solicitude any such
general use of its flag; it would afford no protection
to British vessels, it would be a serious and constant
menace to the lives and vessels of American citizens,
and a measure of responsibility for their loss would
be imposed on the Government of Great Britain.
The reply of the British Government was
short and to the point. It dwelt on the fact that
the Merchant Shipping Act sanctions the use
of the British flag by foreign merchantmen in
time of war for the purpose of evading the enemy;
that instances are on record when United States
vessels availed themselves of this facility during
the American Civil War, and that, therefore, it
would be contrary to fair expectation if now,
when the conditions are reversed, the United
States and neutral nations were to grudge to
British ships liberty to take similar action. ‘The
British Government,’ it continued, ‘have no
intention of advising their merchant shipping to
use foreign flags as a general practice, or to resort
to them otherwise than for escaping capture or
destruction.’ Finally, the responsibility for the
loss of neutral vessels in such circumstances must
fall on the nation which had deliberately disregarded
the obligations recognised by all civilised
nations in connexion with the seizure of merchant
ships.
It is clear that the American Note had special
regard to the future, and expressed no opinion as
to what had occurred in the case of the Lusitania.
Now she did not fly the American flag to escape
capture, but to escape the probability of being
unlawfully sunk by a German submarine; for,
in view of what had already happened off Liverpool,
it is more than probable that a submarine
was in lurking for her; to judge from the German
irritation at her escape, it is practically certain.
What she did, therefore, was in self-defence, and
even unlawful things become lawful when they
are done to escape extreme danger. The Note
refers to the use of a neutral flag to escape capture,
the reply justifies it, and the Merchant Shipping
Act sanctions it. But, seeing that capture by
the enemy is equivalent to destruction, quite
apart from the methods of the new piracy, there
can be no doubt that the principle of self-defence
covers this case also. Self-defence is a natural
law which has been embodied in all legal systems,
and Nature has sanctioned it as a special plea.
‘Protective coloration’ is the device by which
she defends the weak from the unscrupulous
strong; it is ‘mimesis,’ a mimetic change, which
Nature not only approves in the case of actually
hunted animals, but also and mainly devises for
those which are likely to be hunted. So the analogy
is complete, and the change of her ‘colours’ by
the Lusitania to escape the lurking danger of
the submarine stands justified by both natural
and human law. I prefer this explanation to
the theory of the ruse de guerre.
By a ruse de guerre, or stratagem of war, I
understand the adoption of some means of deceiving
the enemy in war, some device out of the ordinary
course of fighting. The old adage that ‘all is fair
in love and war’ is not strictly true, for some
stratagems are not unjustifiable in war, and some
are. The Emden, when she rigged up a fourth
funnel, so making believe she was some other
ship, resorted to a legitimate stratagem which
had unfortunate results for our Allies’ ships in
Penang harbour. The German soldiers who put
on our dead men’s uniforms also resort to a stratagem;
but we are fastidious in our methods of
fighting, and do not admit that this is ‘playing
the game’ of war. But, whether legitimate or
illegitimate, these are ruses de guerre; and the
term is hardly applicable to a stratagem adopted
by a non-combatant to avoid an unlawful trap
set by the enemy for his destruction.
I pass now to the more serious matter of the
Note of friendly protest of the 28th of December,
which was an amplification of one already presented
on the 7th of November. It opens with
the declaration that the present condition of
the trade of the United States, resulting from
frequent seizures and detentions of cargoes destined
to neutral European ports, has become so serious
as to require a candid statement of the view of
the United States Government that the British
policy is an infringement of the rights of its
citizens, and denies to neutral commerce the
freedom to which it is entitled by the law of
nations. An improvement had been confidently
awaited on account of the statement of the Foreign
Office that the British Government ‘were satisfied
with guarantees offered by the Norwegian,
Swedish, and Danish Governments as to the
non-exportation of contraband goods when consigned
to named persons in the territories of
those Governments.’ But although nearly five
months had passed since the War began, it was
a matter of deep regret to find that the British
Government
have not materially changed their policy and do not
treat less injuriously ships and cargoes passing between
neutral ports in the peaceful pursuit of lawful commerce
which belligerents should protect rather than interrupt.
The greater freedom from detention and seizure which
was confidently expected to result from consigning shipments
to definite consignees rather than ‘to order’ is
still awaited.
The general principle is then laid down that,
‘seeing that peace, and not war, is the normal
relation between nations,’
the commerce between countries which are not belligerents
should not be interfered with by those at war
unless such interference is manifestly an imperative
necessity to protect their national safety, and then only
to the extent that it is a necessity.
But articles on the list of absolute contraband
consigned to neutral countries from America have
been seized and detained ‘on the ground that the
countries to which they were destined have not
prohibited the exportation of such articles.’ Italy
had prohibited the export of copper, and shipments
to Italian consignees or ‘to order’ cannot
be exported or transhipped; copper can only
pass through that country if it is in transit to
another country. Yet the British Foreign Office
had ‘declined to affirm that copper shipments to
Italy will not be molested on the high seas.’
In the case of conditional contraband there is
a presumption of innocent use when it is destined
to neutral territory; yet the British authorities
had seized and detained cargoes without
being in possession of facts which warranted a reasonable
belief that the shipments had in reality a belligerent
destination as that term is used in international law.
Mere suspicion is not evidence, and doubts should be
resolved in favour of neutral commerce, not against it.
Cargoes had, in fact, been seized ‘because of a belief
that, though not originally so intended by the
shippers, they will ultimately reach’ the enemy.
A consignment of conditional contraband shipped
to a neutral port does not raise a presumption of
enemy destination; such a presumption is directly
opposed to Lord Salisbury’s statement, made
during the South African war, as to foodstuffs
(equally applicable to all conditional contraband)
which, ‘though having a hostile destination, can
be considered as contraband only if they are
for the enemy forces. It is not sufficient that
they are capable of being so used. It must be
shown that was in fact their destination at the
time of their seizure.’ As to concealed contraband,
it is conceded that there is a right to detain
neutral ships when there is sufficient evidence
to justify belief that contraband articles are in
their cargoes; but the ships cannot be taken
into port and there detained ‘for the purpose
of searching generally for contraband, or upon
presumptions created by special municipal enactment
which are clearly at variance with international
law and practice.’ Many of the industries
of the United States are suffering ‘because their
products are denied long-established markets in
European countries which, though neutral, are
contiguous to the nations at war.’ The effect
on trade is not entirely cured by reimbursements
for damages suffered when an enemy destination
has not been established; ‘the injury is to
American commerce as a whole through the
hazard of the enterprise and the repeated diversion
of goods from established markets.’
Resolved into its simplest expression, the complaint
is a criticism of the way in which the doctrine
of ‘continuous voyages’ has been applied
by the British Government; but there is also a
veiled criticism of the doctrine itself; and, by way
of further complaint, it is pointed out that the
embargoes which have been declared in certain
countries have proved insufficient to prevent the
doctrine being applied. As to the principle asserted
that doubts are to be resolved in favour of neutral
commerce, it has no warrant in common sense,
for it puts a premium on the neutral merchant’s
ingenuity, an ingenuity which has itself given
rise to the doctrine of ‘continuous voyages.’
Seeing that commerce is in the balance against a
nation’s existence, the doubt must obviously be
resolved in favour of the more important consideration.
The Note is also open to the general
criticism that it is based on the position of the
vendor and ignores the purchaser. But the true
criterion of destination must often be found in
the intentions of the neutral purchaser of which
the neutral vendor may be ignorant.
An interim reply was sent by the British Government
on the 7th of January. It begins with a
cordial concurrence in the general principle that a
belligerent should not interfere with trade between
neutrals unless such interference is necessary to
protect the belligerent’s national safety, and then
only to the extent to which this is necessary;
with this qualification, however, that
we shall endeavour to keep our action within the limits
of this principle, on the understanding that it admits
our right to interfere when such interference is, not with
bona-fide trade between the United States and another
neutral country, but with trade in contraband destined
for the enemy’s country, and we are ready, whenever
our action may unintentionally exceed this principle to
make redress.
The figures showing the export of copper from
the United States in 1913 and 1914 to Italy,
Sweden, Denmark, and Switzerland (‘countries
which, though neutral, are contiguous to the
nations at war’) are then compared, and their
astonishing increases duly noted. The conclusion
is very clear.
With such figures the presumption is very strong that
the bulk of the copper consigned to these countries has
recently been intended not for their own use, but for
that of a belligerent who cannot import it direct.
Granted the soundness of the American proposition,
the British case falls within it; the
‘imperative necessity for the safety of the country’
has arisen. As to concealed contraband the case
is even clearer. Cotton is not on the list of contraband.
But information has reached the Government
that ‘precisely because we have declared our
intention of not interfering with cotton, ships
carrying cotton will be specially selected to carry
concealed contraband; and we have been warned
that copper will be concealed in bales of cotton.’
For this there is only one remedy: the cargo
must be examined and the bales weighed; further,
this cannot be done at sea, therefore the ship must
be brought into port. The general justification
of the action of the British Government is couched
in these weighty words, which go to the foundations
of the whole law of contraband and the
right of search: ‘We are confronted with the
growing danger that neutral countries contiguous
to the enemy will become, on a scale hitherto
unprecedented, a base of supplies for the armed
forces of our enemies and for materials for manufacturing
armament.... We endeavour, in the
interest of our own national safety, to prevent
this danger by intercepting goods really destined
for the enemy, without interfering with those
which are bona-fide neutral.’
The extraordinary procedure adopted by the
United States Government of prohibiting the
publication of manifests within thirty days after
the departure of vessels from American ports,
obviously increased the difficulties of the British
Government in exercising its right of search
even in the most ordinary circumstances. If I
am right in my view that the duty of neutrals
is to do nothing, for the simple reason that any
action may be of assistance to one of the
belligerents, it must be confessed that this order
comes perilously near to a breach of neutrality.
The reply deals also with the seizure of foodstuffs,
but it is unnecessary, in view of subsequent
action taken in regard to them, to refer to this
part of the document. It also mentions a somewhat
unusual complaint, not included in the
American Note, of our own embargo on rubber,
imposed in consequence of a new trade in exporting
rubber from the United States in suspiciously
large quantities to neutral countries, which had
sprung up since the war. The complaint is not
very intelligible, because it looks at embargo from
the wrong point of view. The right point of view
is explained later in this article.
The full reply of the British Government was
dated the 10th of February. It contained the
very important declaration that our action against
neutral vessels ‘has been limited to vessels on
their way to enemy ports or ports in neutral
countries adjacent to the theatre of war, because
it is only through such ports that the enemy
introduces the supplies which he requires for
carrying on the war.’ In other words, the importance
of the doctrine of ‘continuous voyages’ at
the present time is emphasised; and its necessity
is demonstrated by a further review of trade
statistics, which led to the inevitable conclusions
‘that not only has the trade of the United States
with the neutral countries in Europe been maintained
as compared with previous years, but also
that a substantial part of this trade was, in fact,
trade intended for the enemy countries going
through neutral ports by routes to which it was
previously unaccustomed.’
But even more important is the opinion deliberately
expressed that international law, like every
other judge-made law, is a live body of principles
which can and must keep abreast of the times.
Its rules are not arbitrarily devised as occasions
arise, but are based on principles which have
developed with the progress of the world. Any
apparent changes in the law which Great Britain
has introduced are not arbitrary inventions which
have in view merely the crushing of Germany,
but are justified by well-known principles applied
to new conditions. The process of adaptation
is no new one. The advent of steam-power had
a notable influence on the development of the
law, for the facilities introduced by steamers
and railways, while they simplified the task of the
neutral merchant in contraband, had enormously
magnified the difficulties of the belligerent.
The question in issue can be stated in almost
primitive fashion. Are the rules which governed
the rights of belligerents when there were no
railways, to govern them when the transit of
contraband over the frontier of a neutral and a
belligerent State has been made so easy? The
answer is not an absolute negative; it is that
the old principles are living principles and are
capable of extension to meet the new occasions.
But to explain the reasons for a step which
has already been taken and to find sound reasons
for a step which has to be taken are two different
things. The first requires reasoning power, the
second imagination; and I find this in the position
boldly taken up and courageously insisted on, that
the growth in size of ocean liners has rendered
a further amplification of the old rules necessary.
They must be brought into port for examination.
The American loves the cut and thrust of argument,
and must at once have acknowledged that
the reference to the fact that the doctrine of
‘continuous voyages’ originated with the Judges
of the United States was not a tu quoque, but
a brilliant illustration of the principle of development
of the law. It is abundantly clear from
every paragraph of this remarkable reply that
this doctrine has become the one principle worth
fighting for now, for our national safety depends
on it. And the American will appreciate the
delicacy of the compliment which can find no
stronger arguments than those used by the Judges
of the United States Prize Courts when they
established it.
The earlier American Note of the 7th of
November had contended that ‘the belligerent
right of visit and search requires that the search
should be made on the high seas at the time of the
visit, and that the conclusion of the search should
rest upon the evidence found on the ship under
investigation, and not upon circumstances ascertained
from external sources.’ But the major
premiss is that the actual destination of the vessel
to the neutral port may be merely a cloak for
the real destination of the cargo to the enemy;
and the citation from the judgment in the case
of the Bermuda[11] is a complete answer:
The final destination of the cargo in this particular
voyage was left so skilfully open ... that it was not
quite easy to prove, with that certainty which American
Courts require, the intention, which it seemed plain
must have really existed. Thus to prove it required
that truth should be collated from a variety of sources,
darkened and disguised; from others opened as the cause
advanced, and by accident only; from coincidences undesigned,
and facts that were circumstantial. Collocations
and comparisons, in short, brought largely their collective
force in aid of evidence that was more direct.
To introduce the rigid rules of evidence necessary
to a common-law action in a question which is not
a lawsuit at all, but an inquiry, would obviously
cripple the effectiveness of the doctrine of ‘continuous
voyages’; the occasions with which that
doctrine deals have by force of circumstances
become the most important source of supply of
those commodities which a belligerent must at
all hazards prevent his enemy obtaining. And
if we go back to the root-principle, that the whole
law and every part of it depend on the right of
self-defence, no stronger argument is necessary
to justify the principle laid down in this case,
nor for the provisions of the Order in Council of
the 29th of October, which throw the burden of
proof of his innocence on the neutral owner of
contraband.
I now come to the Note to Germany of the 12th
of February, delivered in consequence of the
notification of her under-sea policy, and for which
‘Warning’ is the only appropriate term. The
statement of the principles set at defiance is introduced
by the satirical formula ‘It is unnecessary
to remind,’ the whole object of the Note being to
remind the German Government that the interference
with the freedom of the sea is limited to
search and blockade, and that in the absence of
effective blockade the belligerent nationality or
contraband character of the cargo must be determined
before a vessel may be destroyed.
To this Note came the German reply which
set forth England’s iniquities and violations of
international law, which were in startling contrast
to the scrupulous observance of ‘valid international
rules regarding naval warfare’ by Germany.
There is a complacent reference to the
American Note to Great Britain of the 28th of
December, which sets out the details of our
iniquities ‘sufficiently, though not exhaustively’;
but the main interest of the document is its
method of dealing with the duties of neutral States
towards Germany.
Neutrals have been unable to prevent the interruption
of their commerce with Germany, which is contrary to
international laws.
Germany is as good as cut off from her overseas
supply by the silent or protesting toleration of neutrals
not only in regard to such goods as are absolute contraband,
but also in regard to such as, according to the
acknowledged law before the war, are only conditional
contraband or not contraband at all. Great Britain,
on the other hand, is, with the toleration of neutral Governments,
not only supplied with such goods as are not
contraband or only conditional contraband, but with goods
which are regarded by Great Britain, if sent to Germany,
as absolute contraband—namely, provisions, industrial
raw material, etc.—and even with goods which have
always indubitably been regarded as absolute contraband.
There follows a reference ‘with greatest emphasis’
to the enormous traffic in arms which is being
‘carried on between American firms and Germany’s
enemies’; after which come two sentences most
typical of German occultness:
Germany fully comprehends that the practice of right
and toleration of wrong on the part of neutrals are matters
absolutely at the discretion of neutrals and involve no
formal violation of neutrality.... If it is the formal
right of neutrals to take no steps to protect their legitimate
trade with Germany, and even to allow themselves
to be influenced in the direction of conscious wilful restriction
of their trade, on the other hand, they have a
perfect right, which they unfortunately do not exercise,
to cease contraband trade, especially in arms, with
Germany’s enemies.
The involutions of these astonishing sentences
are worthy of the White Queen at her best, and it
is quite a difficult exercise to arrive at their meaning.
So far as I have been able to get at it, it is something
like this:—Trade is free; you neutral merchants
have a right to trade with Germany as with
Great Britain; why don’t you? That would be the
‘practice of right.’ Germany has as much right
to have you trade with her as Great Britain has;
why do you deny her that right? You allow
yourselves rather ‘to be influenced in the direction
of conscious wilful restriction’ (in other words, you
submit to having your cargoes seized by Great
Britain). Of course you have the right to take
no steps to protect your legitimate trade with
Germany, and you take none (in other words,
you refuse to resist the seizures of your cargoes
by force); that is ‘the toleration of wrong.’ And
so you cease to trade with Germany. But you
have also a perfect right to cease trading in contraband
(especially in arms) with Great Britain.
Why don’t you? In her case you do not allow
yourselves ‘to be influenced in the direction of
conscious wilful restriction.’ To all of which the
neutral merchants reply: When you begin to make
an appreciable attack upon our trade with Great
Britain and seize our cargoes, then you may be
sure that we shall be influenced ‘in the direction
of conscious wilful restriction’ of that trade also.
But until that time arrives, we regret that we
cannot take the risk of having to run the gauntlet
of the British Fleet. In all seriousness these
mysterious sentences mean no more than that
Germany has lost such influence upon the sea as
she ever had, and the neutral merchant has
made a note of it and governs himself accordingly.
Therefore the traffic in arms, in spite of her
pathetic protests, must go on.
So much for the Notes and the Answers, and
I pass to the realm of international law.[12] In a
recent debate in Parliament a noble Lord suggested
that, in view of German disregard of it, we need
not be ‘too fastidious’ in our application of
its principles.[13] Even at the best of times, before
war shook things to their foundations, the layman
was disposed to look on it as a thing of shreds
and patches. I am sure he would be surprised
to hear that the principles are coherent, and that
there is a thread of simple common-sense running
through all the various doctrines. The fate of
the Empire depends on the action which the
Government takes on these important questions, its
honour on this action being strictly in accordance
with the law which the nations have agreed to.
I make no apology, therefore, for treading once
more the well-beaten track, for I take it that
it is the business of the good citizen to know
what he is talking about, and in order to help him
I shall begin at the very beginning. And the
beginning is War.
At the outbreak of war the nations are divided
into two classes: those that are fighting and those
that are not. To give them their scientific names,
they are belligerents and neutrals. With the laws
of war I do not concern myself, but only with
those principles by which neutrals are supposed
to govern themselves in order to avoid being
swept into the vortex.
The only means by which this most desirable
object can be achieved is by steadfastly bearing
in mind the natural consequence of meddling
in other people’s frays. It gives rise to the very
simple maxim ‘He who joins himself to my enemy
makes himself my enemy and may be treated
as such.’ For the world’s peace the doctrine
‘He that is not with me is against me’ finds no
place in the maxims of nations. Now there is
a root-principle of neutrality, and if it is once
let go all the subordinate principles will fly off
and become isolated bodies careering through
intellectual space, and doing an incalculable amount
of damage. This principle is, that neutrality is a
state appertaining to the Governments of the non-belligerent
countries, and to the Governments alone.
Azuni says[14] that ‘the state of neutrality is not,
nor can be, a new state, but a continuation of a
former one, by the Sovereign who has no wish to
change it.’ But neutrality has nothing whatever
to do with the individual, and all the puzzles
which confuse the public mind arise from the
fact that the word ‘neutral’ is applied indiscriminately
to Governments and to individuals.
The importance of appreciating this is manifest,
for if it is unsound the German case, in which
the contrary doctrine appears and reappears over
and over again, is right; if it is sound that case
tumbles to pieces. It is the persistence with
which the German Foreign Office has dragged
the opposite contention in by the heels on every
possible occasion which makes it so necessary to
insist on the recognition of this principle. The
burden of its reply to the United States, the condition
on which Germany will abandon its evil
under-water practices, is that this principle should
be given up, and the neutral trade in arms with
its enemies declared illegal. If it could be
thought for a moment that the United States was
likely to be beguiled into abandoning it, then the
peace of the world would indeed be in jeopardy.
But, unfortunately for the Germans, the Americans
know full well what the principle means, and the
place it holds in the international system, for
them to give even the slightest hint that this is
possible.
What, then, does neutrality mean? That the
Government of a non-belligerent State must do
nothing to assist either belligerent, by providing
him with arms, or ships, or men, or money. It is
not difficult to understand why neutrality is not
applicable to the individuals of the non-belligerent
States. Nations subsist by international commerce,
and there is no reason why, because two of
them go to war, all their trade with the others
should be declared illegal.[15] Therefore we get at
once to this axiom, that war does not affect neutral
trade with either belligerent, but the merchants in
neutral countries are entitled to carry on business
with them. And so the neutral merchant makes
his first appearance on the scene.
But to adopt the language of the day, Krieg ist
Krieg; and if the neutral merchant has rights
so also have the belligerents, and the doctrine
of contraband of war gives expression to them,
though few doctrines have been so loosely put
into words. I think I am fairly stating the
prevalent and mistaken opinion when I put it
thus: that it is a breach of neutrality to trade
in contraband, and that it is the duty of a neutral
State to prevent its subjects from so trading.
The Germans, in insisting on this popular idea, are
juggling with the word ‘neutrality,’ and they do
so in a way which is almost pathetic; yet their
version of what they are pleased to call ‘true
neutrality’ is so near to plausibleness that I must
be at pains to elaborate the real principle. A belligerent
has a perfect right to apply the maxim
‘Who helps my enemy becomes my enemy’ to
the neutral merchant. But seeing that he is an
unarmed civilian he cannot be made to fight.
The remedy against him is therefore confiscation of
his goods. The special way in which the merchant
can help the enemy is by supplying him with
munitions of war and other means of carrying
on the fight. In order that there may be no
mistake a more particular list of things which help
the enemy is made out, called ‘Contraband of
War.’ Now the belligerent has no right, much less
any power, to prevent the merchant from selling
these things to his enemy; but he gives him fair
warning that if he sends them by sea cruisers will
be on the look-out for his vessels, and they will
be detained and searched and the contraband
cargo seized. If the merchant turns to his Government
and invokes its protection, talking about
the ‘freedom of the sea’ and the ‘common highway
of the nations,’ he will get for only answer,
‘The threat is justified and I cannot help you.
You are assisting the enemy and must take your
chance. I cannot prevent you taking that chance,
nor can I order you to forbear, for then I should
be interfering in favour of the other belligerent,
and that would be a breach of neutrality on my
part. All I can do for you is to see that you get
fair play if you are caught, and proper damages
if you are innocent.’ So now we get to the law
in its first shape: the neutral merchant is free to
carry on his trade with either or both belligerents
to any extent, in arms or in anything else; but
if he trades in contraband of war he takes the risk
of losing his cargo. The justification for the rule
can be put in simplest language. The belligerent
has obviously no right, merely because he is at
war, to order neutral merchants not to carry contraband
to the enemy, nor even to expect that
they will not. Neither can he insist that the
neutral merchant’s Government should intervene on
his behalf, and so commit a breach of neutrality
towards the other belligerent.
Certain subsidiary questions arise at this point.
First, the familiar distinction between absolute
and conditional contraband. This follows in direct
sequence from what has already been said. The
belligerent is not fighting the civil population,
but only the enemy Government and its forces.
This compels him to interfere with neutral trade
in everything that enables that Government to
maintain its forces. But how to draw the line
between things destined for the civil population
and those destined for the forces, for things
destined for the civilian may be serviceable to
those forces, and may, in fact, be used by them.
The broad principle governing conditional contraband
was stated by Lord Salisbury in the
dictum as to foodstuffs already referred to.
This principle was adhered to by us during the
early months of the War, and was expressly
referred to as having guided our action in Sir
Edward Grey’s interim reply, of the 7th of January,
to the American Note. But the War has revolutionised
many ideas, and among them those which
had led to the adoption of this principle by Great
Britain in the face of the opposing contentions of
other countries in the past, notably France and
Germany. In his final reply to the Note, sent
on the 10th of February, Sir Edward Grey frankly
stated that ‘in the absence of some certainty that
the rule would be respected by both parties to
this conflict, we feel great doubt whether it would
be regarded as an established principle of international
law.’ Further, he pointed out certain
new features in the circumstances in which the
War was being waged which tended to show that
an adherence to the old principle would be an
unjustifiable restriction on our power of striking
the enemy—(i) the existence of an elaborate
machinery for the supply of foodstuffs for the use
of the German army from overseas; (ii) the
practical disappearance of the distinction between
the civil population and the armed forces of
Germany; (iii) the power taken by the German
Government to requisition food for the use of
the army, which rendered it probable that goods
imported for civil use would be consumed by the
army if military exigencies required it.
I confess that there are many considerations
which challenge the logic of the distinction between
absolute and conditional contraband, and give it
more the character of a humanitarian concession.
It introduces a new bone of contention between
belligerents and neutral traders, and it opens
up the grave danger of concealed contraband in
cargoes which are themselves innocent: the concealment
of copper, for example, in bales of cotton.
In view of the more rigorous rule of blockade
where the distinction disappears, it seems more
in the nature of a preliminary measure in the
process of throttling the enemy; the first turn
of the screw, and a suggestion of sterner measures
which are in store.
It is important to note that the determination
of what is contraband, what absolute and what
conditional, is left to each belligerent. Seeing
that no law is possible on the subject, that
agreement has got no further than the unratified
Declaration of London,[16] and that it could not be
for the enemy to decide, there is no one but the
belligerent left. But it rests on a better reason.
Each belligerent is master of his own fray; he
can direct the attack at his own discretion, and
can strike his blows where he pleases; and if
we bear in mind what he could do, the declaration
that some things shall only be contraband if they
are destined for the enemy’s forces is clearly a
reservation of strength rather than an expenditure
of force. There is no rule which imposes half-measures
on any belligerent; he may exert all
his strength and destroy or seize all his enemy’s
property if he is able; the principle of blockade
expressly provides for it; the only thing that is
required of him is that, until he proceeds to extremes,
he must be careful how he interferes with
neutral property.
Another point requires explanation. Of course
all enemy ships upon the seas are lawful prize.
But it strikes one at once that here is a departure
from the principle that you do not make war upon
the civil population, for merchant ships are civilian
property. The neutral merchant has, however,
been looked after, for the Declaration of Paris has
proclaimed that ‘neutral goods, with the exception
of contraband of war, are not liable to capture
under enemy’s flag.’ But in the converse case,
it would not seem reasonable that enemy property
in neutral ships should escape capture. The
Declaration of Paris, however, steps in with the
arbitrary rule that ‘the neutral flag covers enemy’s
goods, with the exception of contraband of war.’
It cannot be said that this rule has done much to
safeguard the ‘freedom of the sea’ for neutral
vessels, for there is no doubt that guns consigned
to Germany discovered on an American ship on a
voyage from Galveston to Pernambuco would
be lawfully seized; and as the guns may be seized
the vessel may be detained and searched. But
practical considerations work in favour of the
neutral merchant. Not all the hosts of the Allied
Fleets would be sufficient for the stupendous
work which would be involved in putting this
right into practice; therefore good sense has
decreed that the destination of a ship to an enemy
port shall be adopted as the practical working
factor in its application, at least in the case of
conditional contraband. But this has engendered
the idea, which certainly is no part of the rule
in its naked simplicity, that neutral ships sailing
to neutral ports can carry enemy cargoes of contraband
with impunity. Enemy destination is
supposed alone to afford a presumption that there
is contraband for the enemy on board; but if
there were any doubt that the idea is erroneous,
the words ‘whatever be their destination,’ in a
judgment of Lord Stowell’s, to which I shall
presently refer, must dispel it.
I have talked of the belligerent right of seizure.
But civilised nations, recognising that in the most
elementary statement of the case not all neutral
cargoes even with an enemy destination are liable
to seizure, have realised the necessity of establishing
a tribunal by which this question of liability
and consequent confiscation can be decided. With
the right of some cargoes to escape there came
into being at once the duty of withdrawing the
decision from the summary process which the
sailor would inevitably adopt. The question of
liability might be a complicated one of fact: law
might be involved: a Court was essential. But
as to its constitution there were only three
alternatives: enemy judges, obviously impossible;
neutral judges, or an international Court, not very
practicable; there remained nothing but judges
of the belligerent country. Hence the anomaly
of the Prize Court sitting in the seizing country’s
territory, presided over by judges of that country.
An anomaly, because it is contrary to the elementary
rule that no man shall be a judge in his own cause;
yet the judgment of a Prize Court is a judgment
in rem; it passes property, and is accepted as
binding against all the world by the Courts of all
other countries. There have been in the past
complaints of the decisions; sometimes they have
been followed by diplomatic representations. But
in these times when—I imagine for the first time
in history—a civilised Government has been deliberately
charged with having recourse to lying,
it surely is a bright spot in the international
horizon to think that the system of Prize Courts
has produced judges who, as the world has recognised,
have been among the greatest.
But the detention of neutral ships at sea,
and the seizure of the contraband that they carry
to the enemy, can be put much higher than a
mere belligerent right; nor does it spring solely
from the vindictive principle that the neutral
aiding the enemy becomes an enemy; it is based
on the supreme right of self-defence. It is the
inevitable counterpoise to the right of the neutral
merchant to continue trading, even in contraband,
in spite of war. The importance of this trading right
to the neutral merchant is the measure of the importance
of this defensive right to the belligerent.
The right of the neutral merchant was put on
the large commercial ground by Mr. Huskisson:
‘Of what use would be our skill in building ships,
manufacturing arms, and preparing instruments
of war, if equally to sell them to all belligerents
were a breach of neutrality?’[17] But it can be
put on a still larger ground. Without it the
small nations would go to the wall. If there
were such a doctrine as Germany now contends
for, a great country with unlimited resources
could speedily annihilate all the weak nations
one after the other. There is no such doctrine
as that when war is declared the warring nations
are to fight it out with their own resources only.
It is not the duty of neutral merchants to keep
the ring and let the best man win. Sentiment
does not come into the question. The neutral merchant
may serve that side which he earnestly
desires should win; but the other belligerent has
the extreme penalty of confiscation in his hands,
and sentiment must inevitably fade into the background.
The conclusion of the whole matter is that
the two great war doctrines are, the right of the
neutral merchant to trade in contraband, and the
right of the belligerent nations to seize his cargoes.
Combined, they make the simple principle that
the neutral merchant may supply contraband to
either side subject only to the risk of seizure by the
other. ‘The right of the neutral to transport,’
says Kent, ‘and of the hostile Power to seize, are
conflicting rights, and neither party can charge
the other with a criminal act.’[18]
But the principle of seizure is still in a very
crude state; and seeing that all cargoes destined
for the enemy are not liable to seizure, and that
for practical reasons it is neither possible nor
advisable to bring in every cargo for adjudication
in the Prize Courts, a supplementary right has
been devised, known as the ‘right of search.’ It is
the first step in the seizure, and, on the one hand,
affords the belligerent an opportunity of letting non-contraband
cargo go free; on the other hand, it
gives the owner of the cargo an immediate opportunity
of proving its innocent character. The right
of search is often stated as an independent right,
but it is in reality secondary to the right of seizure,
and references to it obviously apply equally to
the right of seizure. As to its unlimited nature
I need do no more than quote the well-known
words of Lord Stowell in the case of the Swedish
convoy.[19] It is incontrovertible
that the right of visiting and searching merchant ships
upon the high seas, whatever be the ships, whatever be
the cargoes, whatever be their destination, is an incontestable
right of the lawfully commissioned cruisers of
a belligerent nation.... This right is so clear in principle
that no man can deny it who admits the legality
of maritime capture, because if you are not at liberty to
ascertain by sufficient inquiry whether there is property
that can be captured, it is impossible to capture.
On this another rule has been grafted which
is suggested by the enunciation of the law as to
the right of search. That right must be exercised
for the very same reason that the right has been
allowed, for otherwise you do not know whether
you have the right to seize. From the right
of search has therefore developed the duty to
search; and it is the omission to recognise this
duty that has plunged the German Admiralty
into its piratical career.
But the heart of the neutral merchant is
desperately ingenious, especially when his country
is contiguous to the theatre of war, and no sooner
had he obtained the inch to which practical considerations
made him appear to be entitled than
he developed it into an ell of his own imagining.
He argued thus: A neutral vessel bound to an
enemy port is liable to detention, because the
presumption is that she has cargo for the enemy,
and that her cargo is probably contraband; the
presumption also is that cargoes on board a vessel
bound for a neutral port are not destined for the
enemy, even though they may be contraband;
nothing easier than to bring them across the sea
in a neutral vessel with a neutral destination; all
that remains to be done is to pass them on to
the belligerent, either transhipping them into
another vessel and sending it down the coast, out of
the way of the attentions of the enemy’s cruisers,
or better still, if the neutral and belligerent countries
are contiguous, by rail across the border. And
the best of the plan is that the shipper on the other
side of the water, say some innocent merchant in
copper in the United States, need know nothing
about it, so that if by chance the cargo does get
seized he will do all the shouting.
With this problem, devised in some such human
fashion, the United States was faced during the
Civil War, and the Judges settled it in characteristic
and logical manner. They discovered the
doctrine of ‘continuous voyages.’ It is nothing
more than the simple application of elementary
principles, and is arrived at by the elimination
of the presumption of innocence which the voyage
to the neutral port raised. All presumptions
may be rebutted, and this one manifestly. ‘Be
the destination what it may,’ the right of search
existed; the presumption had only been allowed
to grow because it was convenient. If goods
destined for the enemy reached him by way of a
neutral port, that port was only an intermediate
destination; the ultimate consignee was the
enemy, and there was a continuous voyage to
him from the port of shipment. Therefore the
seizure, and therefore the search, were justified,
and could not be denied merely because ‘the
final destination of the cargo was left so skilfully
open.’
But the neutral merchant’s wits are sharpened
by much profit in prospect; he is no simpleton,
and a consignment of, let us say, copper from
the United States is not likely to be addressed
‘Herr Krupp von Bohlen, Essen, viâ Rotterdam,
by kind favour of Messrs. Petersen & Co.’ Hence
a most ingenious argument conducted on the
principle ‘You shut your eyes, I’ll keep mine
open.’ A consignment ‘to order’ (as ‘to the
order of Messrs. Petersen & Co.’) may perhaps
be legitimately seized, because the words do not
clearly indicate the Dutch firm to be the real
purchasers; but certainly not a consignment
to a specific person (as to Messrs. Petersen &
Co., Rotterdam). The sophistry is obvious; it
does not negative the possibility that Messrs.
Petersen & Co. are either acting as buyers for,
or have imported the goods with the intention of
passing them on to, Herr Krupp of Essen. And
with the help of trade statistics the possibility
may be discovered to be a probability.
And now the pendulum swings back, and in the
doctrine of embargo the really neutral merchant
comes into his own. ‘Embargo’ is the action
taken by a neutral Government in regard to
goods which have been declared to be contraband
by one or other of the belligerents; and the point
to be emphasised is that it springs directly out
of the doctrine of ‘continuous voyages.’ In order
to prevent neutral ships destined to its ports with
goods which one of the belligerents treats as contraband
being detained and searched at sea, it prohibits
the export of those goods from its own ports. The
embargo satisfies the belligerent that these goods
will not go out of the neutral country, and therefore
will not get directly or indirectly into the
hands of the enemy; he therefore feels justified
in letting those ships go free, for the doctrine of
‘continuous voyages’ cannot apply. Now the
reason for the embargo is that the merchants of
the neutral country require the commodity for
themselves. Suppose, for example, that Spanish
merchants require copper for their own use;
then in order to ensure cargoes of copper coming
direct to Spanish ports without being interfered
with at sea by the search of belligerent cruisers,
the Spanish Government might put an embargo
on copper: that is to say, might prohibit its
export. There could be no better evidence that
the Spanish merchants were importing the copper
for their own trade, and that none of it would
get through to the enemy. I can therefore best
describe an embargo thus: It is action taken by
a neutral Government to protect those of its
merchants who do not desire to engage in trade
in contraband from the consequences which would
result from the action of those who do.
There is only one point in connexion with this
doctrine which requires attention. Is the action
thus taken by the neutral Government a breach of
its neutrality to the other belligerent? For, undoubtedly,
it does act favourably to the belligerent
who has declared the goods to be contraband. The
answer is simple. Once admit the strict logic of the
doctrine of ‘continuous voyages,’ it follows that
an embargo is a measure neither directed against
one belligerent nor imposed to favour the other.
It is simply a measure of self-defence, taken in
order to prevent the national industries from
suffering from the undoubted belligerent right of
detention at sea and possible seizure.
There are other occasions in which an embargo
may be resorted to, as in the case of the embargo
on rubber imported by Great Britain to which
reference has been made above.[20] That is purely
a municipal question with which international
law can have no concern.
And now I come to the last point of all, blockade,
which is the supreme manifestation of force at
sea for the purpose of crushing the enemy. Here
all minor considerations vanish. The artificial
distinction between absolute and conditional contraband
disappears; there is no longer any free
list; neutral as well as enemy cargoes are subject
to seizure, whether going to or coming from the
blockaded port. The humanitarian concession that
war is not made on the civil population finds no
place; indeed, blockade derives much of its
efficacy from the pressure which the strangling
process brings to bear on that population. It
has been described as a siege carried on at sea, but
under somewhat more elastic conditions than a
land siege. It is a convenient comparison, because
all the outcry against its inhumanity is silenced
by the recollection of Paris in 1870, and the vision
of what Paris would have been in 1914 if the German
plan had succeeded. It is rigorous, almost brutal,
but it is war, and war admits of no half-measures
which come within the code of civilisation; and
this measure, extreme though it be, has long been
recognised as legitimate warfare. Nor is there
any conventional limitation as to the time when
it may be resorted to. Coming as it naturally
does at the end of the discussion to which other
principles have led up, it might appear as if custom
had decreed that it should only be resorted to after
all other measures had failed. But there is nothing
to prevent a war starting with a blockade; nothing,
that is to say, in the theory of the subject, though
there are any number of practical reasons which
make it improbable. I presume, however, that
if a great maritime Power were at war with a State
which had only a miniature fleet, a blockade of
its coasts would be the speediest and, therefore, the
most humane way of bringing it to a conclusion.
Certainly there is no rule or custom which prevents
a Power at war from putting forth its full
strength at once.
The ascending scale is easier for purposes of
study; the mind grasps smaller things more
easily, and they prepare the way for the appreciation
of the greater things. But it is not by a
process of logical development that we reach
blockade after a study of contraband. Blockade
is treated last more conveniently because it involves
the greatest development of force against
the enemy; but it would have been more logical
to have begun at the other end of the scale, starting
with the greatest exhibition of force, and letting
the series of rules emerge in diminishing strength.
In view of what remains to be said, it is of great
importance to appreciate that the incarnation of
sea-power, blockade, which cuts the enemy off
absolutely from the outer world, lies at one end
of the scale of what one belligerent may do to
the other, and the seizure of contraband on a
neutral ship going to an enemy port, which cuts
the enemy off but partially, lies at the other end.
There can then be no difficulty in justifying what
comes in between.
But the most curious point is that it is only
when we come to the recognition of this extreme
manifestation of force that we meet with artificial
rules. A blockade must be ‘effective.’ Yet this
word, as to the meaning of which in its ordinary
use there can be no doubt, is given in treaties and
by the authorities a wholly artificial meaning.
Sometimes it includes the exact contrary to effectiveness,
as that ‘A blockade is not regarded as
raised if the blockading force is temporarily
withdrawn on account of stress of weather’[21]:
during which the adventurous skipper may run
in. It is not necessary to labour the point; but
it is necessary, when measures short of ‘blockade’
have been taken by England, that the full extent
of what blockade pressure upon neutral trade
means should be understood.
In order to determine what characterises a blockaded
port, that denomination is given only where there is, by
the disposition of the Power which attacks it with ships,
stationary or sufficiently near, an evident danger in
entering.[22]
A blockade [by cruising squadrons allotted to that
service, and duly competent to its execution] is valid
and legitimate, although there be no design to attack
or reduce by force the port or arsenal to which it is
applied, and that the fact of the blockade, with due notice
given to neutral Powers, shall affect not only vessels
actually intercepted in the attempt to enter the blockaded
port, but those also which shall be elsewhere met with
and shall be found to have been destined to such port,
with knowledge of the fact and notice of the blockade.[23]
These two quotations embody the principles of
the English prize law. Article 17 of the Declaration
of London contains a modification of them,
and provides that ‘neutral vessels may not be
captured for breach of blockade except within
the area of operations of the war-ships detailed
to render the blockade effective.’
I have come to the threshold of a subject of
gravest importance, the new policy of the British
Government adopted in answer to the ‘war-zone’
declaration of Germany, and I stop. To devote
to it merely the end of an already long article
would not be treating it with the consideration
which it deserves, and which the question demands.
Moreover, it would not be expedient for an ex-official
Englishman to discuss the subject controversially
at present. It is sufficient that the measure
has been adopted after full and mature consideration
by the Government, that the question is
political as well as legal, and for us it must be
taken to be within the legitimate powers of a belligerent.
Presently, to judge from what has already
happened, there certainly will be any amount of
nonsense talked and written about it; already the
term ‘paper-blockade’ has come in handily for the
making of a paragraph, and some bold spirit has
hit upon a brand-new term, ‘long-distance blockade.’
Also there has been some not very wise
talk about ‘Two wrongs not making a right.’
I would suggest to those who feel irresistibly
impelled to discuss the question that they should
omit the word ‘blockade,’ for, as we have seen, it
is a pernicketty term, and all sorts of legal niceties
spring up in its train. I have endeavoured to show
that ‘blockade’ is the extreme manifestation of
the force known as sea-power against the enemy,
that sea-power lies at the root of the authority
which has been given to the series of principles
governing belligerent interference with neutral
trade, and that these principles are not a mere
adventitious set of rules drawn up at odd times as
wars at sea occasioned them. The principles and
the rules have resulted from the play of natural
forces, exerted by the belligerents on the one side,
by the neutral merchant on the other. The rules
are not even a compromise. The clash of forces
has thrown off alternating sparks, rules recognising
now the right of the one, now the right of the
other. But in the supreme display of sea-power
known as ‘blockade’ we find that the right of
the belligerent does, as is inevitable, take the
upper hand, and the right of the neutral disappears.
And there are two French maxims worthy of note
just now: ‘Qui veut les fins veut les moyens,’ and
‘Qui peut plus peut moins.’
P.S.—I must briefly refer to two questions
which appear at first sight to conflict with the
principles advanced in this article—Foreign
Enlistment, and the King’s Proclamations of
Neutrality.
Before agreeing with the United States as to
the ‘Three Rules’ which, as I have pointed out,[24]
deal solely with ‘foreign enlistment,’ the British
Government declared that they could not assent
to the contention that those rules were a statement
of principles of international law in force
at the time when the Alabama claims arose. This
is expressly stated in Article 6 of the Treaty of
Washington. ‘Historicus,’ in one of his Letters,[25]
cites some American authorities which bear out
this view. Further, he explains the true inwardness
of the Foreign Enlistment Act:—
The Enlistment Act is directed, not against the animus
vendendi, but against the animus belligerendi.
It prohibits warlike enterprise, but it does not interfere
with commercial adventure. A subject of the Crown
may sell a ship of war, as he may sell a musket, to either
belligerent with impunity; nay, he may even despatch
it for sale to the belligerent port. But he may not take
part in the overt act of making war upon a people with
whom his Sovereign is at peace. The purview of the
Foreign Enlistment Act is to prohibit a breach of allegiance
on the part of the subject against his own Sovereign,
not to prevent transactions in contraband with the belligerent.
Its object is to prohibit private war, and not
to restrain private commerce.
It is only when it has become the subject of
agreement between two or more States that
‘foreign enlistment’ assumes an international as
well as a municipal character. I presume that this
municipal character has not been lost by the
inclusion of the duty to prevent the fitting out
or arming of vessels in Article 8 of the Hague
Convention, No. 13, of 1907, relating to the duties
of Neutral Powers in Maritime War.
As to the Proclamations of Neutrality, so
much as recites and reinforces the Foreign Enlistment
Act need not trouble us; the King’s loving
subjects are exhorted to comply therewith. The
rest of the Proclamations amounts to no more
than a warning to subjects not to do ‘any acts
in derogation of their duty as subjects of a
neutral Power in a war between other Powers,
or in violation or contravention of the law of
nations in that behalf’; but, as ‘Historicus’
says,[26] ‘The nature of the penalty is pointed out
with equal clearness and correctness—viz. the
withdrawal of the King’s protection from the
contraband on its road to the enemy, and an
abandonment of the subject to the operation of
belligerent rights.’ What those belligerent rights
are I have endeavoured to explain.