Welsh Journals

TEN YEARS AGO-AND NOW by Prof. A.A. Bowman. ON the day of the Armistice I emerged from captivity with one thought in my mind. The peace had come (for in this instance armistice connoted peace), and with the peace a great opportunity-the opportunity to render peace secure. To be quite honest, 1 felt no sense of elation for to any thinking man it was only too evident that the thing that remained to be done was a far greater thing (and a far more diffi- cult) than what had already been achieved. The war had been fought to an end-or at least to what the Germans call a Stillstand; but one felt uncomfortably that the last had not been heard of the war. The Armistice left one with a feeling of something unfinished, something inconclusive; and it was difficult to look forward to the future with confidence. In 1914 the issue had seemed so clear and unambiguous, so unmistakably ethical; but every year of conflict had rendered it more obscure. The record of the Allies, bearing wit- ness on every page to the heroism and unselfish- ness of plain men and women, was beclouded with the policies of cabinets and the rivalries of factions. Rumours of contention in high places were abroad. Contrary to our hopes and expecta- tions, the war had produced no great leader of men (unless indeed President Wilson should yet prove to be such) to whom we could look up as to one who might guide our footsteps through the tangle of a situation which our own diplom- acy had created. In our desperation we had built up a combination of associated powers upon prom- ises which now fell to be redeemed and it was a question whether our commitments were mutu- ally reconcilable and capable of being discharged together. Not that all of this was clear to us at the time. But a suspicion that the situation was more than we could cope with was vaguely pres- ent to the mind. Generally speaking, the prospect was dark and foreboding. On the other hand, looking back upon captivity I discovered much that was encouraging. My seven months of enforced residence in Germany had been a revelation of the inherent power and goodness of human nature. In that brief space of time my fellow-prisoners had created for them- selves a little civilization from the ground up- ward. Under the most trying conditions they had learned the lesson of discipline afresh they had learned to conduct the business of the prison camp in a spirit of mutual considerateness and of toleration touched with firmness. After the first few weeks we had worked out a system of self- government and had come to a modus vivendi with our German captors. The evolution of our relations with the enemy is one of the most pleas- ing and surprising episodes in my life. Beginning with mutual suspicion and hatred we had gradu- ally come to respect and to trust the men who were responsible for our custody. Between them and ourselves there had grown up an understand- ing that was little short of amicable; and when on the day of our departure the steamer that bore us homewards drew out from the quay at Cologne and the German Commandant and his staff stood respectfully at attention, while we cheered to the echo, we felt that so far at least as we wrere con- cerned the war was indeed a thing of the past. Thus my feelings as a prisoner just released by the Armistice were mixed. The war was over; and yet it was not over. I no longer feared the German army I feared the politicians and dip- lomatists, on both sides, who were about to take over the situation where the soldiers had left it. The old diplomacy, working in secret, was dis- credited. But was there anything to take its place? Could the peace negotiations be conduct- ed, as President Wilson demanded, in an atmos- phere of complete frankness and publicity? And if so, would not the very attempt be fraught with a new kind of danger? By what possibility could the settlement be made to combine the conflicting national aspirations of so many peoples? Could the parties to the peace be induced to call the same thing Justice? These were disturbing questions and they were not rendered less so by the consciousness, rein- forced by my experience as a prisoner of war, that the great mass of mankind, ranged on one side or another as friend or foe, are at bottom humane and well disposed. The truth is that the inherent goodness of human nature, the natural idealism of common people, has never yet been made avail- able as the decisive factor in the larger affairs of history, and there was no reason to expect that it would be made available in the exceptionally diffi- cult circumstances of a post-war settlement. Ten years have passed since that first Armistice day and what is the situation that has evolved from that preliminary move in the direction of peace? Without hesitation I reply that in its pol- itical or international aspect the situation is bet- ter than we had any reason to expect. True, the world has not yet been made safe either for demo- cracy or for peace. True, the settlement has not been accepted by the principal parties to it as satisfactory. Some of them in their hearts are presumably still unable to regard it as final. Fur- thermore the history of these ten years has been