"No, Thanks, I Know These Princes of Yours Too Well."
On November 5, 1916, Poland was "restored" by Germany and Austria-Hungary
to her old place as an independent member of the
family of nations. High hopes were aroused in the hearts of
the Poles. They had suffered for over a hundred years, and in
this war of liberation, which was to form the Society of Nations, the Austro-German
proclamation was the first recognition of their aspirations.
The Entente Powers had committed the serious blunder of refusing to
encourage the Poles for fear of offending Czarist Russia. But very
soon the Poles realized that the Central Empires were playing them false.
The "independence" was for to-morrow and not for to-day, and even for
to-morrow it was contingent upon "being good."
At the beginning of 1917, which was the year of national rebirth, hatred of Russia and resentment against the policy of expediency of France and Great Britain, as well as the necessity to accept the de facto Austro-German occupation, influenced most of the Poles to trust—in defiance of history and experience,—the good faith of Germany and Austria-Hungary. At the beginning of 1918, they had learned the lesson Raemaekers' pencil eloquently depicts—not to put their trust in German princes. At Brest-Litovsk, "independent" Poland was refused a place in the peace negotiations. Answering President Wilson and Premier Lloyd George, Chancellor von Hertling impudently asserted that the future status of Poland concerned only her conquerors.
The cartoon, drawn to illustrate the scepticism of the Poles, should drive home a truth to the Americans. We must realize that camouflage is not confined to military operations. Its use to deceive armies is not so dangerous as its use to deceive the nations behind armies. From bitter experience the Poles are learning that behind the prince put forward as ruler is hidden German militarism and German imperialism.
This form of political camouflage is as dangerous for the United States as for Poland. Peace proposals may come to us—they will come to us—in plausible and appealing form. They will have the appearance of fairness and justice. What is behind them? What inspires them?
Our mission in this war is sanctified by its goal. To attain that goal we have consented to make sacrifices unprecedented in the history of our nation. From a purely military standpoint, no camouflage can possibly obscure the path to the goal, and the method of reaching the goal. The German armies, as yet unconquered, stand in front of us, defending the loot of German imperialism, won by German militarism. We must dispossess these armies of their loot, and punish them for having looted. But—alas!—diplomacy is at work in 1918 to attempt to save by wile what cannot indefinitely continue to be held by force. Every means of diplomatic camouflage will be used by our enemies. Our inspiration, our determination to pursue the struggle to the bitter end, will be kept alive only if we see, through various forms of camouflage, the spiked helmet hidden behind them. To make peace with Germany wearing the spiked helmet would mean to consecrate the success of her imperialistic policy.
HERBERT ADAMS GIBBONS.
