With the stately rhythm of two pachyderms learning to waltz the U. S. State Department and the Council of the League of Nations edged around and around the Sino-Japanese crisis (see p. 20), vastly pleased to discover last week that they can waltz together without treading on each other’s big white diplomatic toes.
Statesman Stimson hesitated to ask Mother League to dance. His first idea was that she alone should soothe howling China and spank obstreperous Japan. In his note to Geneva fortnight ago Stag Stimson firmly put his white-gloved hands behind his back with these words: “It is most desirable that the League in no way relax its vigilance and in no way fail to assert all the pressure and authority within its competence toward regulating the action of China and Japan” (TIME, Oct. 19).
Boiling Crisis-Met the League Council last week, expressly summoned for no other purpose than to deal with China & Japan. It was Spain’s turn to preside, but there was Heaven to pay in Spain (see p. 19). Spanish Foreign Minister Alejandro Lerroux could not leave the boiling religious crisis at Madrid to go to Geneva. Thus it became M. Aristide Briand’s turn to chairman the Council.
M. Briand, famed “Master Parliamentarian of Europe,” knew well enough that what Mr. Stimson had called “all the pressure and authority” of the League is not enough to coerce a Great Power like Japan. Also, the Japanese Cabinet was already showing fury at Mr. Stimson’s use of the noun “pressure” and the verb “regulate.” There was only one smart thing for M. Briand to do: stall. But how? As the Frenchman wracked his agile brain in Geneva, Mr. Stimson provided the thing needed.
He rang up the U. S. Consulate at Geneva. Ruminating over the radio telephone with Consul General Prentiss Gilbert, he authorized him to attend Council sessions on the Sino-Japanese crisis, if invited. That was enough for the Master Parliamentarian.
Within a few hours Brer Briand, abetted by British Foreign Secretary the Marquess of Reading, had transformed the issue before the League into: Shall the U. S., which has always refused League membership, have a temporary Council seat? To U. S. observers this question proved roughly eight times as interesting as what happened to China or Japan. Despatches speculating on whether President Hoover (a onetime Democrat) was “trying to enter the League by the back door” were slapped under front page headlines three columns wide. Despatches datelined Tokyo, Nanking, Shanghai and Mukden were boiled down to second-page squibs. Even the Papal daily edited by a Papal count wisecracked: “The United States, a nonLeague member, refuses to enter the door. Why not try the window?”
“Unanimously, Except!” In Japan the
Cabinet, the Army and Foreign Minister Baron Shidehara saw only two things: first, Mr. Stimson had coupled “pressure”‘ and “regulate” with the sovereign name of Japan; second, he had betrayed surprising eagerness to sit in on the Council just this once, presumably to help coerce Japan.
With dignity and logic, stogie-smoking Japanese Delegate Kenkichi Yoshizawa told the League Council that Japan would welcome permanent seating of the U. S. on the Council (i. e. acceptance by the U. S. of membership in the League); but that Japan would unalterably oppose the seating of the U. S. just once, clearly to the detriment of Japan.
From the Council chair, shaggy old Brer Briand overruled Mr. Yoshizawa when the Japanese invoked the Council unanimity rule which holds for all major League acts in matters of principle. The act of inviting the U. S., M. Briand ruled, was a mere matter of League procedure, required only a simple majority. After three and a half hours of wrangling about this, the Master Parliamentarian observed:
“If there is no objection, we are agreed to send an invitation to the United States.”
Mr. Yoshizawa: “I still object!”
Chairman Briand: “Decided unanimously, excepting for one vote.”
Puff, Puff, Puff. Since the U. S. and Japan were officially on friendly terms last week, Statesman Stimson might have soothed wounded Japanese amour propre by declining a Council seat, leaving the U. S. represented at Geneva as heretofore by an “observer.” Thus he might have avoided a storm of accusations (sure to burst in Congress) that President Hoover was smuggling the U. S. into the League. But Statesman Stimson had authorized Consul General Prentiss Gilbert over the radio telephone to sit in Council if invited. That was final, the State Department said.
Consul Gilbert, earnest, moonfaced, phlegmatic, proceeded to sit at two deadly secret Council sessions from which Japan and China were excluded. Between the two sittings Japan’s tiny Delegate Yoshizawa, puffing his huge cigar, rushed up to portly Mr. Gilbert, warmly grasped and pumped his hand. “Nothing personal, you know, my dear Mr. Gilbert,” grinned Mr. Yoshizawa from ear to Japanese ear. “Eh, heh, my objection was on purely technical grounds!” (Puff, puff, puff.)
At the second secret Council sitting, the League took its first and only action last week respecting China & Japan: the Council resolved that its members should cable their governments asking the latter to cable to China and Japan a reminder that as signers of the Briand-Kellogg Pact they have renounced-war-as-an-instrument-of-national-policy.
Up to last week Statesman Stimson, custodian of the Pact by tacit world consent, had been accustomed to invoke it himself—as he did in the Sino-Russian crisis and was rebuffed by Russia (TIME. July 29, 1929). Last week Mr. Stimson duly received a cable from his own Consul Gilbert in Geneva asking him in the League’s name to do what he would otherwise have done anyway: wire China and Japan invoking the Pact. In cheerful mood Statesman Stimson assured correspondents that he would do as the League asked, mentioned his “satisfaction.”
Orient Reacts-Official China, pleased by U. S. Council sitting, rejoiced at League invocation of the Pact.
At the Japanese War Office fiery General Minami openly roared: “The League has exposed its weakness by inviting America, and America has provoked the Japanese people by attending the League!”
At the Japanese Foreign Office sturdy, Rooseveltian Baron Shidehara revealed that the League Council had secretly despatched to him a “forecast” of ten recommendations which the Council rather thought they might make. One of these was that Japan promise to withdraw her troops from the occupied Manchurian zone within three weeks.
Promptly Baron Shidehara cabled Mr. Yoshizawa to inform M. Briand (which he did at 1 a. m., routing the old Frenchman out of his bed) that Japan:
1) Will reject the Council’s ten recommendations if they are ever made.
2) Will continue to contest the “principle” of U. S. Council sitting as “illegal” (Sitter Prentiss Gilbert was rumored in Geneva to have said, while sitting last week, not one word).
3) “The Government of Japan,” cabled Baron Shidehara, “is firmly convinced that the present situation is not one to be considered as of a nature to cause the danger of war between Japan and China.”
In Washington, Japanese Ambassador Katsuji Debuchi called on Secretary Stimson and changed the emphasis on Baron Shidehara’s second point. He said that Japan, while reserving the right to object to procedure questions before the Council, had waived all objection to the presence of the U. S. delegate.
More Must-Reads from TIME
- Donald Trump Is TIME's 2024 Person of the Year
- Why We Chose Trump as Person of the Year
- Is Intermittent Fasting Good or Bad for You?
- The 100 Must-Read Books of 2024
- The 20 Best Christmas TV Episodes
- Column: If Optimism Feels Ridiculous Now, Try Hope
- The Future of Climate Action Is Trade Policy
- Merle Bombardieri Is Helping People Make the Baby Decision
Contact us at letters@time.com