The Maccabaean

British Foreign Policy and the Zionist Outlook

THE study of foreign policies has been a concern of Zionism ever since the time—looking almost fantastically remote now—when Theodor Herzl, a Knight Errant invading courts and ministerial bureaus, imagined that Yildiz Kiosk was a place where a spade was ever called a spade. It is fortunate that the necessity of Zionist worries over Turkish inscrutabilities is gone forever—and doubly fortunate that the Zionism of 1919 faces the only foreign policy it must deal with—the British—on the quid-pro-quo, the something-for-something plan.

It is high time, I submit, to have done with the romantic notion—prevalent chiefly among American Zionists—which looks upon the Balfour Declaration as a sort of divinely inspired utterance, without any earthly foundation to stand upon. As a matter of plain, transparent common sense, the Balfour Declaration was an intelligent move of British statesmanship looking Eastward—a move prompted by two palpable facts:

TE Te First, by: the growing conviction, based in the main upon the Gallipoli incident and other evidences of the strength of Jewish national sentiment, that this sentiment is a sufficiently concrete factor to be treated as a party to a compact; and, secondly, by the highly important consideration, that the Jews are the only people on earth willing enough, capable enough and trustworthy enough to function in the triple role of wardens of the British passageway from Egypt to Mesopotamia, of Palestinian entrepreneurs and of sanctum-keepers for a score of religious persuasions, including, of course, their own.

If there be any among us to whom the Balfour Declaration appears as a spontaneous Act of Grace, which may be as spontaneously wiped out by some other Eastern doctrine, enunciated by another British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, they had better ponder, in a sober mood, the following questions:

Can Palestine, a British gateway of the first importance, be rescued from the war-ruin by any ethnic group of settlers except one that is sure in advance of a colossal outpouring of international good-will —a ceaseless flux of monetary aids and grants for at least one generation to come? And is there any ethnic group on earth certain of such a succor save the Jews?

Can any church or religion looking upon itself as the exclusive fountain of salvation be appointed custodian of the sacred places of a score of religious denominations without its own pale? And if not, who but the Jews are qualified to take hold?

During the war, the Arabs of Palestine fought with the British against Turkish oppression—as a matter of course. But the Jews under the sovereignty of a British ally fought with and not against their Russian oppressors—which is a miracle of loyalty rather than a matter of course. Which of the two ethnic groups is the more likely to be put by British statesmanship in charge of the Keys to the Orient?

Suggestive thoughts of Zionist concern, like the foregoing, crowded in on one's mind while examining the contents of the Hon. Arthur D. Elliot's "Traditions of British Statesmanship" [New York, Dodd, Mead & Co., 1919; 231 pp.]. This book, by a distinguished Englishman, outlines

the traditional foreign policy of the British Empire for the past one hundred years and longer. It tells how from one Prime Minister to another Great Britain has preserved certain fundamental principles in regard to her policy toward other nations. This book is particularly complete in discussing British foreign policy during the last ten years and contrasting it with the statesmanship on the part of the Berlin diplomats. The author also discusses in’the light of past events what English policy will probably be during the coming years of reconstruction. “Traditions of British Statesmanship” is written by a man who is an authority on the subject, in the sense of being one of the best available exponents of the Tory-view of past history and future vistas. The work is a treasure-trove of illuminating quotations from little-read diplomatic memoirs, half-forgotten ministerial speeches, sidelights upon Pitt, Palmerstone, Gladstone, Goschen, Sir Edward Grey, etc. It traces backward into the far-off past the more stable features of British foreign policy, such as maritime supremacy, the maintenance of the Balance of Power, the spirit and practice of compromise, and so on. In ‚view of what befell Mr. Wilson’s “Freedom of the Seas,” anno 1919, the following words of the Marquis of Halifax uttered, according to Mr. Elliot, anno 1694, are a curious testimony to the stability of British policies:

“The Importance of our being strong at Sea was ever very great, so in our present circumstances it is known to be much greater; because, as formerly our Force of Shipping contributed greatly to our Trade and safety, so now it is become indispensably necessary to our very Being. It may be said now to England ‘Martha, Martha, thou art busy about many things; but one thing is necessary.” To the Question what shall we do to be saved in this world? there is no other answer than this, Look to your Moate. The first article of an Englishman’s creed must be that he believeth in the Sea. Without that there needeth no General Council to pronounce him incapable of Salvation here.” Here we have a secular addition to the Athanasian Creed, rather more steadily present before the average British mind than most of the Thirty-Nine Articles. \

“With all their general concurrence,” Mr. Elliot reminds us, as to national fundamental principles of foreign policy, “our statesmen have, of course, often differed widely as to what are British objects and interests, and as to the direction from which danger to them threatened.” To be sure they have. But—to revert to the particular concerns of Zionism—there has never been any difference of opinion among British statesmen regarding the necessity of keeping safe every part of the highroad from Egypt to India, by land and sea—which means, translated into Zionist terms, that a flourishing Jewish commonwealth in Palestine, under British suzerainty, is just as important to permanent British statecraft as an Anglophile Kingdom of Hedjaz and a tractable Amirate of Afghanistan. This proposition cannot be affected by a change of ministry. If the British by-elections and other signs of the times do not mislead, a cabinet composed of men of the Henderson-Smillie type may soon continue the Judaeophile policy of the Coalition statesmen. Should such a change come about, then the Pittsburgh Program will be joyfully recognized by British Progressive Labor as a Jewish postscript to their own philosophy of statecraft and economics. Meantime, we shall all do well in looking up, with Mr. Elliot, the annals of British foreign policy and study therein the principles and methods of our potent business-partner of the future.