by Peter Krass
Certainly, the Endowment for International Peace had its work cut out; the European armament buildup appeared unstoppable. First, however, the men had to settle a conflict amongst themselves: some of the trustees were disturbed by the intrusion of private interests and money on Washington. Yes, there had always been campaign contributions and reciprocal favors, some not so legal, but never on this scale. The pact between Carnegie and Taft was an extremely dangerous precedent. Also, they feared that if it became known Carnegie was essentially funding Taft’s peace agenda, it would destroy Taft’s work. And a weak Taft would make for a weak Endowment for International Peace if they worked hand in hand. The trustees wanted to freely pursue their own course toward peace, without constriction that might hinder success, and Butler pushed for the organization to relocate in New York, where greater autonomy could be had. It remained in Washington; however, insiders took note when Taft’s name did not appear in the first annual report as the trustees moved to distance themselves somewhat from the administration.
For all the publicity and compliments Carnegie garnered from around the world, the public was curious—and rightly so—as to how such a prodigious endowment would be spent on such a cause. The usual cynics came forth, typified in a rancorous letter received by Trustee Jacob G. Schmidlapp, in which the author attacked Carnegie’s benefaction and raised the old robber baron tariff issue:
Your brother peacemaker Carnegie reminds me of a verse that I learned at an early period of my life: “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.” Carnegie seems to know no better what to do with his money than this old lady knew what to do with her children. . . . He gives you ten millions of dollars to promote peace, every penny of which was the Dead Sea fruit of a war tariff which he has himself admitted was unnecessary and therefore oppressive, and he selects forty of the most conspicuous men of his acquaintance in the country, pretty nearly everyone of whom is a stand pat protectionist, and a red-handed partisan of war upon every commercial nation, including our own, to spend millions for peace, without the suggestion of a single step they were to take to accomplish it.44
So how would the income from a $10 million endowment be expended in the name of peace?
The mission was “To promote a thorough and scientific investigation and study of the causes of war and of the practical methods to prevent and avoid it.” Other stated purposes included aiding the development of international law, diffusing information, cultivating friendly feelings among nations, and promoting peaceable methods to settle international disputes.45 But how would these goals manifest themselves specifically? Butler attempted to answer some of these questions in an essay he penned for Holt’s Independent. Part of the process for preventing war involved infusing a new attitude in governments and people, he said. The principle of nationalism had to have superimposed on it a new political structure of internationalism, which involved shaping the evolution of the highest institutions in the judicial, legislative, and executive branches from viewing war as an accepted means for settling international disputes to embracing judicial methods for settling them. “To accomplish these ends elaborate and prolonged studies, highly scientific in character, must be made and their results published to the world.”46
To begin such a noble crusade, the endowment secured the cooperation of some two hundred eminent international economists, historians, lawyers, and scholars to aid in the research and promotion of peace. In July 1912, for example, the trustees appointed a commission to study and dissect the economic, social, and political causes and effects of the Second Balkan War. It was hoped that by publishing the outrages committed during the war and clearly illustrating how it could have been avoided, future bloodshed would be averted. Published reports and the endowment’s activities were disseminated on every continent. The endowment paid for exchange lecturers to travel to various countries to promote mutual understanding and peace. Money was donated to peace societies and kindred institutions. Spending the money was not a problem, as it turned out; finding useful causes yielding concrete results remained the difficult part.
There was one prize Carnegie still yearned to capture: an arbitration treaty with Great Britain that would be akin to a race reunion, his dream since the early 1890s. By February 1911, Taft and Knox were moving forward on such a treaty, but an impatient Carnegie pushed for information on the progress, chiding one of Taft’s representatives that he wanted more than the mere updates he could read in the newspapers.47 Although a treaty was far from signed, there was a backlash from nationalist forces in the Roosevelt camp, who feared the treaty might evolve into a dreaded mutual defense pact. To alleviate any such concerns, Carnegie took to the newspapers, telling the United Press he was in almost daily communication with Taft, and he went so far as to write a model for the treaty with Great Britain, which he then forwarded to the president. He had crossed the line. By assuming the role of the secretary of state, he did more than step on toes; he greatly offended Taft, who instructed Knox to muzzle the endower of peace. “I confess,” Carnegie admitted to Knox, concerning the treaty work, “I thought it was like most extremely great things, quite easy, the right key to open the door having been found and exhibited by the President, a real open sesame; but after seeing you I may realize that much has yet to be done. So be it! I can be patient.”48
His patience didn’t last long. Within months, he again intruded on Knox’s territory, when a popular revolt against the Manchu dynasty swept through parts of China and Carnegie recognized the name of one of the leaders based in Shanghai. It was Wu Ting Fang, an acquaintance from years ago. He cabled Fang: “Our hearts go out to you. Success attend you.” Two days later, Fang replied: “Grateful good Wishes. We are fighting for liberty and good government. Kindly ask your government to recognize us.” There was no need to ask the government! Carnegie immediately cabled: “Our country certain among first to welcome heartily sister Republic.”49 Only afterward did he forward the cables to Taft’s office. Carnegie had wrongly come to believe that the deal with Taft entitled him to speak for the country, and his presumptuous enthusiasm threatened the broad arbitration treaties as much as Knox’s heavy-handedness or Roosevelt’s opposition.
In spite of his meddling, on May 19, 1911, an overjoyed Carnegie was finally able to congratulate Knox when it appeared arbitration treaties with Britain and France were to be a reality. “What a hit. Must strengthen you in the Senate . . . I imagine you, pen in hand, signing the greatest document in its influence upon the world ever signed. Your piloting superb. I am rejoicing that I live in these days.”50 The very next day, however, Roosevelt fired a vicious volley in his personal crusade against the arbitration treaties when an article he authored appeared in Outlook, attacking Taft’s foreign policy.51
When Roosevelt’s Outlook article made headlines, Carnegie immediately questioned him as to why now, at this pivotal point, was he so vehemently against arbitration? In a condescending and patronizing note, the former president replied, “You know that one reason why I hesitated long before writing that article was just because I hated to do anything that might seem distasteful to you. I finally came to the conclusion that it would be a weakness on my part not to write it. . . . If it had not been for the very unfortunate statement that we would arbitrate questions of honor, I do not think any trouble would have come about the treaty at all.”52 Despite the Roosevelt factor, Taft remained optimistic. “I am sorry that Theodore thought it necessary to come in advance of a definite knowledge of what we are planning to do,” he wrote Carnegie, but he didn’t believe Theodore’s invectives wouldn’t “interfere with the consummation of what you and I both desire.”53
The days dragged into another month as the sensitive diplomats word-smithed the documents into acceptable terms for their respective countries. Carnegie’s impatience was evident as the dickering continued; on June 24, Britain’s ambassador in Washington, James Bryce, perceptively cautioned tol-erance.54 Four days later, Bryce
assured Carnegie the end was in sight: “There is really very little between us & as the President is genuinely wishful to put the thing through now, this session we hope this may be achieved. The political situation in the Senate is so odd, & unprecedented, that one fears to prophesy, but I don’t see why they should refuse the Treaty; it doesn’t infringe what they think is their prerogative. In all our discussions over the wording of the Treaty, Knox has been very fair and reasonable; he is genuinely wishful that the thing should be done & done well.”55 Carnegie still had his suspicions about Knox, whom he had previously advised to ingratiate himself with the Senate to secure passage of the treaties.
At this critical juncture, there was an unexpected and magnificent display of support: the pope issued an autographed brief supporting Taft’s peace work. “It will be the duty of each priest to read this in public,” Taft’s secretary wrote Carnegie. “I understand that the brief praises the President for his part in this stroke of statesmanship, and commends you for the interest you have taken in the cause, and the substantial aid you have rendered it.”56 The operative words were most certainly “substantial aid”—money and propaganda.
On June 29, as the final drafts of the treaties with Britain and France were completed, Carnegie cabled his friend: “Shake friend Morley, Shake. I am the happiest mortal alive. Couldn’t call snakes snake this morning if naming created things.”57 The joyful but cryptic message flew right past Morley, who was baffled by it. Carnegie clarified: “Sorry my telegram not under-stood—thot you knew the celebrated American who being elected declared he felt so happy that he couldn’t libel snakes by calling them by their real name. I had just heard that the Race—our race had agreed to banish war— the greatest step upward ever taken by any race since history began. . . . Other nations will soon follow.”58 The glorious race reunion was at hand in the form of a treaty. All the effort in the name of peace, all the money, the $10 million pact with Taft was now justifiable.
On the eve of the family’s traditional July sojourn in the Highland lodge (now at newly constructed quarters called Aultnagar), a rejuvenated Carnegie again wrote Morley: “Skibo never so beautiful. I mourn our departure in many respects, but I am going to begin my memoirs [for the third time or so] up on the moors, opening with my retirement from business eleven years ago. I have a new life to describe, acquisition & distribution of surplus wealth, & as I have had to organize & gather sound men above the sordid love of gain & adhere myself to my vow never to make another dollar, it is an interesting development. At least it should be—I dout if any business man so far as I have known then could perform the task I’m going to try.”59
There appeared to be little concern of a Senate defeat when, on August 3, Taft signed the arbitration treaties with Britain and France. The Los Angeles Times considered the treaties the most praiseworthy presidential action since the Emancipation Proclamation, and the New York Times proclaimed them Taft’s crowning achievement. Only Roosevelt, mulling over the prospect of running for president, remained a thorn in Taft’s side: all personal communication between the two men had broken off. The Rough Rider continued his high-decibel attack against the “tomfool” treaties and “mollycoddles” who feared using force to protect the country.
Roosevelt was the lesser of Taft’s worries. Just as Carnegie feared, Knox had not consulted the Senate adequately—at least not adequately enough to soothe their egos—and the senators were now busy ripping apart the treaties. Knox, showing his lack of diplomacy, turned the ratification process into such a political disaster that he appeared to be sabotaging them. At the end of August, an unhappy Root informed Carnegie, “The trouble could have been averted easily if some of the Senate had been consulted before the treaty was signed.”60 While this was not a revelation to Carnegie, he was caught off guard by the strong opposition. “The disappointment is too great to cause annoyance, or wrath,” he wrote Ambassador Bryce. “It falls like a heavy dull load of disaster which we must slowly surmount. It is a serious struggle to get two thirds majority from a body that changes so slowly. I hope some compromise can be reached. Taft’s reelection, however, seems so certain by an overwhelming majority that he may win without changing form of treaty, but it seems more probable to me that some change can be arranged without sacrificing much.”61 While Carnegie and Taft were willing to compromise, Knox was so adamantly opposed to the idea that his loyalty to Taft was thrown into question.
Carnegie could take little comfort in the fact that in October Root and he were nominated separately for the Nobel Peace Prize. Root would win.
On his return to New York that October, Carnegie took to the soapbox in support of the treaties. He shuttled back and forth between his home and Washington, where he either cajoled Senate members, consulted with the president, or urged his Endowment for International Peace trustees to use all their resources in support of Taft. The endowment trustees were having a crisis of conscience, however, over their role as a propaganda machine. After a morning meeting with Carnegie on October 26, the trustees reconsidered their position in a battle that had mired the country in constitutional, legal, and political arguments. Did they want to be caught in the cross fire between Taft, Roosevelt, and the Senate? No. They wanted to step back and carry on their peace mission without being tainted by political malarkey. “After careful consideration of the opinion advanced at the morning session and of the attitude of Mr. Carnegie . . .,” the endowment’s secretary wrote in the minutes, “the committee agreed that the work of propaganda begun at the instance of Mr. Carnegie should cease.”62 The entry was later deleted, but Carnegie was now aware of the disenchantment.
Always willing to go it alone, he continued his campaign, speaking on behalf of the treaties before an audience at Carnegie Hall, the address marked by disturbances attributed to the “ignorant Irish Americans.”63 Carnegie still held his belief that publicity of one’s work was as important as the work. “Well do I remember my apprehension when you advocated keeping all you did quiet,” he would write Morley the next year. “No show. No advocacy. Only go on & do the work in a quiet way, when I knew that advertizing was essential for success, i.e. to spreading abroad what could be done. . . . Of course its disagreeable work & puts me forward as a vain trumpeter but one who isn’t willing to play this part for the good to be done, isn’t much of a man.”64 His high-profile involvement in the peace movement was becoming an impediment, however; Knox resented his intrusion, as did the Senate, which could vote against the treaties simply to spite him. As Knox had warned him earlier in the year, “exaggerated public discussion” might hinder the process. As Root later observed, “The thing which has made me feel very certain about the importance of keeping out of political matters is that what we do carries a certain prejudice; this is the Carnegie Endowment; Mr. Carnegie is still living, and active and prominent. The people of the country are exceedingly sensitive as to the employment of the money of rich men toward influencing public opinion. I think that is the great trouble.”65
Roosevelt complicated matters further by declaring his intention to run for president—“My hat is in the ring! The fight is on and I am stripped to the buff”—which served to fracture Taft’s Republican support in the Senate.66 Now Taft’s reelection, which Carnegie had predicted, was far from guaranteed.
Feeling betrayed and wounded, Carnegie wrote Roosevelt a long, rambling letter in an attempt to induce him to reconsider. He considered the Taft-Roosevelt relationship to be “idyllic,” and begged him to meet with the president “face to face and just let your hearts speak. It is not too late. You are both big enough to discard mean petty trifles and renew your idyllic relations before history records you as false or worse.” Carnegie closed the letter by reminding Roosevelt that Taft’s wife was ill, perhaps mortally so, suggesting the Rough Rider should not add to such a terrible burden and withdraw from the race.67 Guilt, a weapon Carnegie used repeatedly, had no effect.
Roosevelt’s reply was impenitent: “You oblige me to speak frankly by wh
at you say about Mr. Taft—I would not say this for publication. I have never been so bitterly disappointed in any man. I care not one whit as to his attitude toward me. But I care immensely as to his attitude toward the people. He has completely reversed the position he held when he was my lieutenant.”68 Unwilling to provoke further animosity, Carnegie replied, “No more of this. It will work out somehow. The republic is invulnerable.”69 He was not so strong in faith when he wrote Morley two days later: “I am mourning over the pitiable disagreement between Roosevelt & Taft. . . . Roosevelt wrong in not agreeing second term for President who has done so well—Roosevelt & Niagara. Quite true. Both uncontrollable.”70
It was now apparent the treaties with Britain and France, as they were, would not be ratified by the Senate, at least not until after the election. For Carnegie, the unconditional arbitration treaties were like dividends to Phipps in days past—just as they appeared on the horizon, they were gone again. Even though Henry Cabot Lodge, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee and the Senate’s opposition leader, hinted at compromise, Taft, like Roosevelt before him, felt humiliated by the Senate and wasn’t going to cave. Instead, he decided to incorporate the treaties directly into his reelection platform. “The people of the country have manifested a very general and unusual degree of interest in these treaties and I believe that the preponderance of public sentiment is overwhelmingly in their favor. . .,” he explained to Car-negie.71 The fight wasn’t over yet, and Carnegie would donate a whopping $100,000 to Taft’s reelection campaign.72
