Washington and the Riddle of Peace

In Short

This book comprises twenty-nine journalistic papers documenting the 1921–1922 Washington Conference on the Limitation of Armament. Rather than providing a dry transcript, it offers a candid, firsthand account of the hopes and frustrations felt by an observer witnessing world leaders attempt to reorganize global relations. The work has endured because it captures the fundamental tension of modern diplomacy: the clash between narrow national interests and the desperate, urgent need for a unified, organized peace to prevent the total disintegration of civilization through economic and social ruin.

The Story

The narrative begins with a stark assessment of a world in crisis. The author views the Washington Conference not as a mere diplomatic gathering, but as a potential—though fragile—response to the encroaching threat of civilizational collapse. As the author traverses the halls of the conference, he observes the limitations of the delegates, who are often portrayed as human beings burdened by personal prestige, party politics, and the weight of their own nationalistic prejudices. The initial focus of the conference—the limitation of naval armaments—is dismissed as a "foregone futility" if not accompanied by a deeper settlement of international grievances.

The arc of the book moves from the specific to the universal. The author examines the "riddle" of Japan’s position in a world dominated by European influence, the tragic state of China trapped by foreign entanglements, and the looming instability of post-Versailles Europe. He argues that the Treaty of Versailles failed because it was driven by a vindictive desire to punish Germany rather than an effort to stabilize the world. Consequently, the Washington Conference is tasked with the monumental, often unacknowledged duty of revising those earlier errors.

As the conference progresses, the author’s tone shifts between optimism and skepticism. He finds hope in the "Association of Nations" concept, which he views as a more flexible, organic, and practical alternative to the rigid, failed structure of the League of Nations. He describes the American delegation, led by Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes, as possessing a refreshing, if amateurish, candor that disrupts the established habits of European diplomacy. However, he is acutely aware of the "ebb tide" at Washington—the moment when the initial momentum begins to fade as domestic political pressures and "wrecker journalists" at home threaten to undermine the progress made at the negotiating table.

The narrative reaches its conclusion by confronting the "dark background" of the global economic situation. The author warns that the reckless manufacture of paper money and the resulting decay of trust have pushed Europe toward a state of rural barbarism. He posits that the only way to avert this catastrophe is through a series of interlocking, open treaties that would bind nations together in a mutual, transparent security pact. The book ends on a note of determined idealism; the author acknowledges that the conference cannot decide the ultimate fate of the world, but it has at least set a precedent for future cooperation. He admits that he remains an "exile" working toward a world of his desire, balancing hope and bitterness as he observes the uncertain progress of human affairs.

How It Unfolds

The gathering of the delegates. The author arrives in Washington to witness a diverse assembly of leaders and experts who, despite their individual limitations and prejudices, must confront the reality that global civilization is currently sinking.

The failure of Versailles. Through critical analysis, the author establishes that the previous peace settlement was fundamentally flawed, having ignored the voices of the German and Russian peoples and prioritized French vengeance over global stability.

The Pacific pivot. The conference shifts its immediate attention to naval limitations and the role of Japan, forcing the participants to move beyond vague generalities and address the concrete, aggressive aims that necessitate such military build-ups.

The economic warning. The focus broadens to reveal that the real threat to humanity is not merely war, but the breakdown of money, trade, and organized city life, which risks returning entire regions to a state of primitive degradation.

The Association of Nations. The author explores the potential for a new, flexible system of international governance, arguing that an "Association" is a more viable, adaptive entity than the overly rigid League of Nations.

The final outlook. The author concludes that while the conference has established a hopeful precedent, the work of securing a peaceful world remains an ongoing, arduous project that depends entirely on the continued will of nations to prioritize global stability over isolated national glory.

The People

The book is populated by key figures and representative types who drive the political drama. President Harding is presented as the architect of a new, tentative "Association" approach, signaling a shift toward American engagement that contrasts with the earlier, more rigid idealism of President Wilson. Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes emerges as a central, proactive force who forces the conference to confront concrete realities through his bold naval proposals. M. Briand, the French representative, is portrayed as a tragic figure—a man who understands the necessity of reason and peace but is constantly held hostage by the "mad patriotism" of the French Senate and the fear of being branded a traitor to his own country. These individuals are not depicted as titans of history, but as "amateurs" and "human beings" struggling to navigate the immense pressures of their respective national interests and the looming disaster of a crumbling international order.

In Its Own Voice

"The ship of civilization is not going to sink in five years’ time or in fifty years’ time; it is sinking now."

The author uses this urgent observation to describe the rapid economic and social decay of post-war Europe.

"In the minds of these young and generous millions who are personified in the Unknown Soldier of the great war, in the minds of the Germans and Russians who fought so stoutly, quite as much as the Americans, British, French or Italians, the war was a war to end war."

This reflection underscores the author’s conviction that the common soldiers possessed a clarity of purpose that their diplomatist leaders lacked.

"Either to fight it out and establish the definite ascendancy of some one power or to form an alliance based on an explicit settlement, an alliance, indeed, sustaining a common executive commission to watch and maintain the observance of that settlement."

This statement encapsulates the author’s fundamental argument that peace requires a move toward an organic, international system of governance.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that the world faces a binary choice: either move toward an integrated, organized system of international governance, or accept the inevitable disintegration of civilization. The author contends that the "riddle of peace" cannot be solved by simply limiting weapons, as armaments are merely symptoms of the deeper, unresolved conflicts of interest and ambition. He argues that modern, mechanical civilization is too interdependent to survive the current system of competing, sovereign national "empires." Consequently, the book calls for a transition from an age of imperialistic, secret diplomacy to an era of open, binding treaties that prioritize the economic and social health of the entire global community over the narrow, short-sighted prestige of individual states.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of international relations or the evolution of global diplomacy will find this book particularly compelling. It captures the specific, anxious atmosphere of the early 1920s with a clarity that feels remarkably modern. The writing is warm and precise, though a reader must be prepared for the author’s occasional reliance on the period’s geopolitical vocabulary and his somewhat elevated, intellectualized tone.

What lingers after reading is the author’s profound sense of responsibility—his conviction that the "riddle" of peace is not a puzzle to be solved by politicians in a room, but a collective project that requires the active, persistent engagement of the global public. While he acknowledges the "impartial leisureliness" of politicians and the inevitable cynicism of journalists, he never abandons his belief that a better future is possible if we can only overcome our own tendency toward "trivial, selfish, evasive" thinking. This is not a book that provides a neat, historical summary; it is a vital, breathing piece of evidence from a moment when the world was trying, however imperfectly, to prevent its own undoing. It remains a sobering reminder of how difficult—and how necessary—it is to build a cooperative world.