THE LEAGUE: Struggle for Peace

(See front cover) The sun went up at Geneva last week on the climax of a great career. A scant 20 years ago Samuel Hoare was merely the name of a British secret operative in Imperial Russia whose almost immediate knowledge of the assassination of Gregory (“Mad Monk”) Rasputin led to complications. These were unsnarled only when the British Ambassador personally assured excited Tsar Nicholas and his hysterical Tsarina that pro-German Rasputin had not been murdered as an act of War expediency by British Agent Hoare.

Still as keen and canny as he was in 1916, Sir Samuel Hoare now enjoys triple prestige. He made a great Air Minister (1922-24 & 1924-29), flying with Lady Hoare to inaugurate personally such new Empire air routes as the 5,566-mile span from London to New Delhi. More recently he has been the most prominent Secretary of State for India of this century, driving relentlessly through the House of Commons the longest bill it ever passed, and thus giving 350,000,000 Indians a new Constitution (TIME, June 17). The reward was Sir Samuel’s appointment as His Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, the star Cabinet portfolio. Last week a British Royal Air Force plane carried “Flying Sam” to Geneva where he at once dwarfed handsome young Captain Anthony Eden, His Majesty’s Minister for League of Nations Affairs. All the world knew that if any voice could halt Dictator Benito Mussolini’s prospective war of African conquest, that voice was Great Britain’s— the calm, chilling voice of Sir Samuel Hoare.

H. R. H, In & Out. A special train bearing Edward of Wales from the French Riviera drew into Geneva shortly before the Foreign Secretary was to address the League Assembly. Swiss burghers, startled out of their stolidity, spread exciting rumors that on this supreme occasion the British heir apparent, though precluded from taking an active part, would lend the weight of his presence to the Struggle for Peace. From the railway station H. R. H. was driven to one of the big hotels bordering the Lake of Geneva where he took a bath, ate a hearty breakfast, sallied forth with a group of swank friends to do a little shopping. Then the Prince vexed the peace devotees of Geneva by getting aboard his special train, chuffing off to Budapest.

Meanwhile the Assembly of the League of Nations, meeting under a circus-tent canopy of grey cloth erected to reduce the glare from a huge skylight, rushed through necessary preliminaries prior to hearing Sir Samuel Hoare. Elected President of the Assembly by an overwhelming majority was Dr. Eduard Benes, perpetual Foreign Minister of Czechoslovakia and “Europe’s Smartest Little Statesman,” who today covertly sides with Il Duce. With his accustomed dexterity, Assembly President Benes at once secured postponement until next year of two agenda items highly distasteful to Italy’s Dictator. The first urged League prohibition of the sale of war supplies and raw materials to a belligerent; the second proposed to amend the League Covenant, which sanctions war under certain conditions, so as to make it square with the Briand-Kellogg Peace Pact outlawing war “as an instrument of national policy.” A final tactical maneuver was to secure the defeat of Soviet Foreign Minister Maxim Maximovich Litvinoff, who ran for one of the Assembly’s vice-presidencies intending to sound off from this vantage point with one of his Communist attacks on Fascist Italy as a spearhead of Capitalism.

Thus the Geneva stage was set for the maiden speech before the League Assembly of new Foreign Secretary Sir Samuel Hoare.

Slap! Slap! Slap! The lean, lithe, greying Briton spoke with every ounce of emphasis he could muster, frequently repeating phrases and whole sentences to drive them home, but his tone was level, unemotional, deadly earnest.

“As the newest Foreign Minister in this gathering,” began Sir Samuel, “I would like to congratulate the eldest Foreign Minister. For Dr. Benes, although young in years and of vigorous aspect, has held his office longer than anyone else in this hall. He and I are old friends. . . .”

“I shall speak freely, avoiding rhetoric,” continued the Foreign Secretary. “It may be sometimes difficult for our foreign friends to follow the course of British policy. It is perhaps difficult for them to understand the workings of the British mind. Do we not seem even to our kinder critics a curious people? . . . It may have been imagined that, possessing territories over the whole world, we naturally are anxious to support an institution [the League of Nations] that might be used for keeping things as they were. . . . If these suspicions are still in anyone’s mind let him once and for all dispel them. . . . No selfish or imperialist motives enter into our minds at all.”

Proceeding in his even way, Sir Samuel took a polite slap at Il Duce: “The Spirit of War—of war, to quote the Pact, as ‘an instrument of national policy,’ even perhaps of war for war’s sake—has raised its head in more places than one. . . . The armaments of most countries, and, last of all, of my own country, are increasing. . . . A vicious circle of insecurity has been set up.”

Next came the Briton’s main point in slow, heavy verbal blows: “The obligations of the [League] Covenant remain. . . . If the burden is to be borne, it must be borne collectively. If risks for peace are to be run, they must be run by all. The security of the many cannot be insured solely by the efforts of the few, however powerful they may be. On behalf of the British Government I can say that they will be second to none in their intention to fulfill within the measure of their capacity the obligations which the Covenant lays upon them. The ideals enshrined in the Covenant, particularly the aspiration to establish the rule of law in international affairs, have appealed with growing force to the strong idealism which has its place in our national character and they have become a part of our national conscience.”

Though he never varied from his flat, toneless delivery, Sir Samuel at one point fairly electrified the Assembly when he raised his hand above his head and thrice slapped the tribune loudly as he repeated words and phrases, then struck a final slap for further emphasis. Said he: “Britain stands (slap!) for steady collective resistance (slap!) to all acts of unprovoked aggression (slap!). Steady collective resistance to all acts of unprovoked aggression (slap!).”

Main Bridge. With studied vagueness Sir Samuel spoke of possible action which the Great Powers might take to undercut the claims of nations which say they need colonies to supply them with raw materials. He threw out a hint that the chief colonial powers might pledge themselves perpetually never to refuse to sell to non-colonial powers whatever raw materials they may feel they need.

Finally the calm British Foreign Secretary pronounced what excited and wrathful Italians promptly called a “British blackmail threat to quit the League unless it takes action to restrain Il Duce.” As suavely phrased by Sir Samuel Hoare, this verbal climax had no harsh or menacing ring: “It is to the principles of the League and not to any particular manifestation that the British nation has demonstrated its adherence. . . . I cannot believe that it [Britain’s adherence] will be changed so long as the League remains an effective body and the main bridge between the United Kingdom and the Continent remains intact.”

Quaking Ethiopian. Sir Samuel was followed on the assembly rostrum by Ethiopian Chief Delegate Bedjirond Tecla Hawariate who visibly quaked with nervousness and seemed to fear that Great Britain’s august words would not avail much against Dictator Mussolini.

“I state at once,” began Mr. Hawariate, “that I shall say nothing calculated to annoy anybody whatsoever. . . . We are a Christian people. . . . We are animated by a feeling of the greatest respect, even with regard to those who have declared themselves our adversaries. We recognize the high values they represent. . . . On behalf of His Majesty, the Emperor, I state he is prepared to accept any reasonable suggestion in the spirit of high conciliation by which he is moved. He is prepared to make the largest allowance for the demands of modern civilization and the legitimate interests of all nations.”

Dexterous Auvergnat. This intrusion by Ethiopia with a plea for practical horse-trading went unnoticed by the world Press as editors ordered out their biggest headlines for the clash of British and Italian wills crystallized by Sir Samuel Hoare. He himself stepped to a Geneva microphone next night and surprisingly cried: “Let the air carry to Italy these words—that whatever bitter things may be said, they are the words of a real friend! . . . A settlement must be sought that will do justice alike to Ethiopia’s national rights and Italy’s claims for expansion.”

This settlement in draft form was being quietly worked on by the League Committee of Five which last week seemed about to recommend that Italy receive the sort of control over Ethiopia now held by Britain over the nominally “free and independent” Kingdom of Irak. Geneva realists, aware that the British National Government of Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin faces a general election before long, considered Sir Samuel’s speech in the nature of an electioneering harangue to British voters, 11,000,000 of whom have just signed a highly idealistic “peace ballot.” French voters also must be harangued, and soon that olive-skinned Auvergnat, dexterous Premier Pierre Laval, mounted the Assembly rostrum. Eight minutes later, when he stepped down, M. Laval drew his arm in most friendly fashion through that of Italian Chief Delegate Baron Pompoe Aloisi and they strolled down the aisle together while editors were getting out such banner heads as: LAVAL PUTS FRANCE BEHIND LEAGUE; UNITY WITH BRITAIN ISOLATES ITALY; ROME STUNNED, MAY LEAVE GENEVA.

The actual words of M. Laval were a dexterous triple flirtation with 1) French pro-League sentiment, 2) the British Government and 3) Benito Mussolini. First he safely trumpeted: “The doctrine of collective security . . . remains and will remain the doctrine of France! The [League] Covenant endures as our international law!” Then, in a little noted passage, he said: “On Jan. 7 last, Premier Benito Mussolini and I, not only in the interests of our two countries but also for the peace of Europe, definitely settled all those things which might be able to divide us. . . . I have neglected nothing to prevent any blow from being struck at the new policy happily inaugurated between France and Italy.”

This new policy was to give Italy a part interest in the strategic French railway penetrating the heart of Ethiopia. Signor Mussolini also received from M. Laval a “free hand” with respect to the dusky Empire (TIME, Jan. 21). In Paris the great passage in Premier Laval’s speech last week was considered that in which he adroitly inferred that Sir Samuel Hoare had, by implication, promised British support to France should Germany attack her or attempt to seize Austria. Cried the Frenchman with enthusiasm while the Briton looked faintly uncomfortable: “In an address elevated in its thought, where was found anew the liberal tradition of England and England’s sense of the uni versal, Sir Samuel Hoare told us of the determination of the United Kingdom to adhere without reservations to the system of collective security. . . . This declaration marks a date in the history of the League of Nations!” Since British voters do not want to be dragged into another great European war for Peace, but merely to feel that His Majesty’s Government are being noble about Ethiopia and severe toward a Big Bully, this French hint that the Big Bully may turn out to be Adolf Hitler would have been distinctly upsetting had not most British newsorgans loyally passed over that part of M. Laval’s speech.

Triumphant to London. Morning after Sir Samuel Hoare’s maiden League speech, New York Times Correspondent Ferdinand Kuhn Jr. cabled impartially from London: “If the free newspapers of this country were controlled and edited by a dictatorship they could hardly have been more unanimous in their approval.” Everyone agreed that the new Foreign Secretary had struck exactly the right note— the British note. “Without doubt,” pontificated the London Times, “he has succeeded in expressing the views not only of the government but of the country as a whole.”

Only in high Tory circles catered to by the London Morning Post was it frankly said that Benito Mussolini might have great difficulty in deciding what clever Sir Samuel actually meant. “It is possible to imagine Mussolini meditating various conclusions from the words used,” said the Post, adding with satisfaction, “there is nothing in the speech to suggest that in the last resort England would act alone to maintain the integrity of Ethiopia.” But Sir Samuel’s speech was not about an English solo but rather about a European concert on behalf of Ethiopia and “when I say collective responsibility, I mean collective responsibility.”

Foreign Minister’ Hoare flew to London a clean-cut hero to most British voters, his more enthusiastic friends even suggesting that if he keeps up the pace he set last week he should crown his career one day by realizing his great ambition to become Prime Minister.

No. 18 Cadogan Gardens. Home then went the Right Honorable Sir Samuel John Gurney Hoare, second Baronet of his line, Privy Councilor, Knight Grand Commander of the Star of India and Honorary Air Commodore of Great Britain, to one of London’s most amazing town houses, No. 18 Cadogan Gardens. As gracious Lady Maud Lygon Hoare, a daughter of the Sixth Earl of Beauchamp, has said, “It is full of odds & ends we have picked up,” many of them brought from distant lands by air.

From the stair pillars frown two enormous busts composed of seven kinds of marble and believed to represent unidentified Arabian characters. Another treasure is the largest piece of Dresden pottery in the world. Dazzling curtains from Baghdad, authentic 18th Century French and Turkish furniture, and a display of solid silver plate bought by Sir Samuel’s grandfather a century ago adorn a ménage which the Hoares find cozy.

Neatly sorted into files are newspaper stories and photographs of the Foreign Secretary which he constantly collects, aided by friends all over the world who snip and mail anything they see about “Flying Sam.” These remind 55-year-old Sir Samuel that he is an expert fancy skater, that he was Charles Augustus Lindbergh’s host in London after the Spirit of St. Louis flight, that he won a socialite tennis championship last year at Dinard, and that he painstakingly answered as Secretary of State for India over 15,000 questions asked him by the Joint Select Committee of the House of Lords and the House of Commons which finally produced the India Bill. Though every Indian party now opposes the new Constitution which was so largely of Sir Samuel Hoare’s making, he said of himself on becoming Foreign Secretary: “I think that scores of people will bear out my contention that, though many of them disagreed with my line of conduct, and felt that my proposals were unwise or ill-timed. I have ended my period with more personal friends, from Gandhi on the left to many Indian princes on the extreme right, than has any previous Secretary of State for India.” A great statesman, a great Englishman, and now a popular hero, Samuel John Gurney Hoare emerged in the brilliant Geneva dawn last week as quite possibly a future Prime Minister.

“Sum Total Forces!” At Rome the Cabinet in which Benito Mussolini holds eight portfolios met in frowning Palazzo Viminale and a communiqué was issued which was in fact the Dictator’s answer to Geneva. “The Hoare and Laval speeches,” declared Premier Mussolini’s communiqué, “could not be different from what they were because of the English and French positions with regard to the League Covenant. For this reason they have been received with the greatest calm by responsible Italian circles and by the masses of the people.” (Actually Italians who anxiously snatched up newspapers last week were visibly perturbed by M. Laval’s speech, most Italians having expected him to aid Il Duce with something more than weasel words.)

Continuing, the Dictator’s communiqué stressed M. Laval’s “cordial” reference to the Rome agreement, then harshly announced: “The [Italian] Cabinet examined in what circumstances Italy’s continued membership in the League would be rendered impossible. The Cabinet, after having learned that around the Italo-Ethiopian controversy are gathering all the forces of foreign antiFascism, feels it is its duty to reconfirm in the most explicit manner that the Italo-Ethiopian problem does not admit of compromise solution after the huge efforts and sacrifices made by Italy. . . . From a military viewpoint our preparations in East Africa proceed with greater intensity.”

On the final issue of whether Italy dare risk a showdown with the “collective responsibility” of League of Nations States, the Dictator rasped: “The sum total of our military forces on land and sea and in the air is such as to be able to respond to whatsoever menace, from whatsoever direction it may come.”

“Second to None.” With ”Flying Sam” in London, Premier Laval sped to Paris, and the League Assembly became in their august absence little more than a forum. Fidelity to the Covenant was pledged by Haiti whose black delegate declared: “The colored peoples of the world are watching. The period of colonial wars is closed.” Into line fell Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, the Irish Free State, the Little Entente (Czechoslovakia, Rumania, & Yugoslavia), Belgium, The Netherlands, Bulgaria, Turkey, Greece, Portugal, Panama, China, the Scandinavian & Baltic States, Poland and Soviet Russia whose roly-poly Foreign Commissar “Maxie” Litvinoff spoke in English and re-employed Sam Hoare’s words to say that in supporting the League Russia will be “second to none.” No nation offered to be first.

Comrade Litvinoff, always the stormiest petrel of Peace, succeeded in embroiling himself with stiff Col. Josef Beck, Polish Foreign Minister, in an exchange of diplomatic billingsgate over the German-Polish Treaty of Accord (TIME, Feb. 5, 1934). The Russian called this an arrow of anti-Communist aggression; the Pole sassed back that the Red was speaking with “obvious prejudice.” When Litvinoff got up to sass in return, Col. Beck and his Polish aides left the League Assembly in a body “to smoke a cigaret outside.”

This left the League Committee of Five still quietly preparing their recommendations, but the real scene of action had shifted to London. There French Ambassador Andre Charles Corbin daily pressed His Majesty’s Government to commit themselves to a written pledge that their attitude toward German aggression would be the same as Sir Samuel said it would be toward Italian aggression. Ever since the World War it has been the unceasing aim of French diplomacy to get Britain to sign on that dotted line. If Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin could be made to sign, the European balance of power, profoundly disturbed when Britain countersigned Germany’s rupture of the naval clauses of the Treaty of Versailles (TIME, June 24. et seq.). would abruptly be redressed on the basis of an Anglo-French entente and Dictator Mussolini would find himself on the hottest spot of his fiery career. As every Frenchman knows, Premier Laval only gave Mussolini a free hand in Ethiopia because London was flirting with Berlin.

This week the unusually well-informed London Correspondent Augur* insisted that at Geneva last week Sir Samuel Hoare told Premier Laval that “the British Government was ready to admit that the [Anglo-German] naval pact, or rather the method of its conclusion, had been regrettable and would prefer that it had not happened.” This extraordinary statement, though entirely undercut in British fashion by its qualifying clause, seemed to mark the first admission by His Majesty’s Government that in countersigning Adolf Hitler they may have historically blundered. The air having been cleared by this revelation, the British and French Governments, said Augur, “are now agreed that nothing done at Geneva can prevent Premier Mussolini’s war machine from being launched at the heart of Ethiopia. When this happens the League of Nations’ procedure must take a predestined course . . . culminating eventually in a decision to apply sanctions to the aggressor state. . . . The pressure to be applied shall be economic.”

Back again to Geneva hurried France’s Laval, conferred first with Italy’s Aloisi, then closeted himself with Britain’s Anthony Eden.

Meanwhile, in London, keeping its statistical eye on the vanishing chance of Peace, Lloyd’s announced that it would cancel the war risk clause now included in all open contracts, giving the ten-day notice required.

*His name is Vladimir Poliakoff.