Can Putin Survive?
The Lessons of the Soviet Collapse
IN earlier writings as well as in his latest book Charles A. Beard reads from (or into?) American history the lesson that "continentalism" represents the predestined course of our foreign policy. Jerome Frank, writing a chapter on "Disintegrated Europe and Integrated America," argues that the basic issue in Europe, and the cause of unfortunate developments in Germany and Italy, has been "the absence of continental integration." In America, he continues, we have continental integration, "and therefore the possibility of relative self-sufficiency." Stuart Chase embroiders still further Frank's theme of "disintegrated Europe, integrated America," collects figures to explore the possibilities of various "continental economic units," and, in the last sentence of his book, urges the United States to avoid economic and political entanglements in the affairs of other nations which, "in the nature of their geographical deficiencies, must quarrel, until some day they too achieve continental unity."[i]
The Western Hemisphere complex, so conspicuous in discussions of American foreign policy, has often been associated with ideas of "continental" unity and "continental" solidarity. A noteworthy instance occurred in a symposium at the meeting of the American Political Science Association a year ago where Clarence Streit's plan for Interdemocracy Federal Union was up for discussion. A distinguished political scientist -- a student of municipal government -- based his criticism on the view that the natural political and economic grouping is the "continental" one. He therefore favored solidarity with Latin American countries as against overseas countries.
There is, of course, a tremendous literature on the theme that "Europe" must unite. Coudenhove-Kalergi's Pan Europe; the efforts of practical statesmen like Briand, Herriot and others to promote European union; and more recently a new flood of books, articles, plans and speeches advocating a "United States of Europe" or some sort of European federation all carry a continental emphasis. Sometimes there is an explicit argument to explain why continents, as such, must be united. Thus, H. N. Brailsford writes, "Air power has made inevitable the unification of continents."[ii] More often than not, however, this point is simply taken for granted.
On the other hand, there are strong trends in current political action and thought, as well as existing economic and political connections, which cut directly across continental lines. Public opinion and official policy in the United States are today influenced very decidedly by the realization that our own ability to defend ourselves depends in no small measure on what happens in Europe and Asia. The British Commonwealth of Nations, so long as it stands, will continue to be a practical challenge to the thesis that continental units are the natural ones. The war emergency has publicized the fact that the economic affiliations of much of South America, as well as the cultural affiliations of Latin America in general, are with Europe -- distinctly un-continental. In the realm of thought about the future, particularly in the discussion of war and peace aims, continental lines are being as regularly disregarded by some as they are being emphasized by others. Proposals like "Union Now," and the more moderate proposals of those who, while doubting the feasibility of complete federal union, nevertheless envisage some kind of a permanent bond between the United States and other democratic nations, reject the continental principles in favor of an ocean-linked unity.
One general theme runs like a red thread through most of these discussions, by continentalists and non-continentalists alike. That is the conviction that the day of the small, completely independent, sovereign national state is past. There will be in the future -- and ought to be -- larger politico-economic units of some kind. This, in the view of the present writer, has to be accepted as unquestionably sound. But is the natural progression from small, sovereign states to continental groupings? There is reason for making an examination of this question now, for the words "continent" and "continental" seem to be acquiring strong emotional and symbolic values which may even affect policy. Is this a well-founded development, or have we here an instance of the fascination (not to say the tyranny) of certain words? What are the general characteristics that mark off continental from non-continental, overseas, or maritime groupings? What is to be said for permanent supra-national groupings of a continental sort as compared with non-continental, maritime, or oceanic groupings? With respect to the defense problem of the United States, what are the relative virtues of a policy which stresses "continental" defense lines (admitting aid to Britain largely because it buys time for preparation), as against a policy which allies us with overseas friends in all-out resistance to the totalitarian challenge and in joint maintenance of dominant world sea power?[iii]
There is only one universal characteristic which distinguishes continental from non-continental groupings -- the existence of land connections (or barriers) instead of sea connections (or barriers) between the members of the group. What political or economic consequences, if any, follow from this difference?
Distance has human significance only in terms of the barriers it interposes against the exchange of messages (communication), the movement of persons (travel), and the movement of goods (transport). How does over-land distance compare with over-water distance in these three respects?
Obviously, the answer depends on the character of the particular lands and seas involved (land areas differ more than sea areas in the obstacles they offer) and on the technology of the times. Nowadays, communication, which permits exchange of intelligence, impressions and feelings, takes place over water and over land with practically the same speed, cost and convenience. Radio waves and the air mail pay little attention to continental lines. So far as travel is concerned, surface travel on land today is swifter where there are good railway lines and highways than surface travel by ship, and it is hard to generalize about the differences in expense and convenience. But if one travels by air -- and that will surely be the standard method of long-distance travel in the future -- there is no important difference even today between over-land and over-water distance. Stratosphere flying will probably soon abolish what little difference does now exist. This leaves land and water distances about equally significant, in human terms, except for transportation of goods.
The transport of goods (freight) should certainly not be ranked below communication or travel in its fundamental importance for determining the "naturalness" of economic connections between different places. If freight can move easily and cheaply between two regions their economies are much more likely to become integrated, interdependent and complementary than if the movement of goods between them is difficult and costly. Now, it happens that for heavy, bulky goods, which are the staple items of inter-regional trade, water transport is much cheaper than land transport over equal distances. This has been true for centuries. It is one of the reasons why the great trading centers of the world are typically located on rivers, or lakes, or on the seacoast. It is still true today. Rumanian oil, in time of peace, moves to Germany by the long overseas route around Spain to Hamburg, instead of over the much closer "continental" connection. Italy, though linked by several railway lines to continental Europe, imported 20,000,000 tons of goods by sea in 1938 and only 4,000,000 tons by land. Coal from Germany moves overseas to Italy when there is no blockade. South American international trade, even to places on the same continent, is largely by sea.
Let us compare, in practical terms, the cost-distance from such a center as New York City to inland "continental" points and to overseas points. Using prewar rates in all cases (effective as of August 1, 1939), the "wheat-distance" between Kansas City and New York, expressed as the cost of shipping 100 pounds of wheat in carload lots, was 33½ cents to 42½ cents, while it was only 13 cents from New York to Liverpool. In mileage, Liverpool was three times as far as Kansas City; but Kansas City was nearly three times farther than Liverpool when it came to economic relations in wheat. The overseas route from Singapore to New York is more than twenty-five times longer, in miles, than the rail route from New York to Akron, Ohio. Yet the distance measured in freight cost for transporting a 240 pound bale or case of crude rubber was $1.50 from Singapore and $1.03 to Akron. In other words, Akron was two-thirds as far away from New York as Singapore, in "crude-rubber distance."[iv]
In summary, for two places a given number of miles apart it makes very little difference under modern conditions whether land or water stretches between them, so far as communication and travel are concerned. For the transportation of heavy goods, however, which is a major aspect of economic connections, the two places would be effectively closer to each other, measured in "cost-distance," if there were water between them than if there were land. Given the same separation in miles, there is less economic distance across water than across land.
But are not places on the same continent or in the same "hemisphere" closer to each other in miles than places on different continents or in different "hemispheres"? It is a temptation to suppose so. Ex-Governor Philip La Follette of Wisconsin warned his countrymen not long ago to beware lest we find ourselves fighting "not in this hemisphere where we can be supreme, but fighting with expeditionary forces four thousand miles away in Europe and six thousand miles away in Asia." Will the reader at this point be good enough to examine a globe?[v] Attach a string to a pin at Madison, Wisconsin -- Governor La Follette's home town -- and measure how far from home he might have to go if he were sent to defend important points "in this hemisphere where we can be supreme," as compared with other points on the supposedly distant continents of Europe and Asia. Note the following facts:
It is farther from Madison to Buenos Aires in a direct line ("great circle" distance) than from Madison to Bengasi. Ankara is about as far as Buenos Aires. Actually, by the regularly travelled routes, Buenos Aires is considerably farther away than either of these points in Africa or Asia, because of the "bulge" of Brazil.
No capital in Europe, including Moscow, is as far from Madison as is Buenos Aires, and only one European capital (Athens) is as far as Rio de Janeiro. Again, this is direct-line distance, and by actually travelled routes Europe is relatively closer.
Gibraltar is closer to Madison than is the capital of Bolivia, closer than Tacna or Arica, and closer than any major city in Brazil or any place at all in Argentina, Chile, Paraguay, or Uruguay.
Gibraltar, incidentally, is not merely closer to the entire South Atlantic coast of South America than is Madison, but is closer by sea than the nearest point in the United States (Miami). In the same way, advanced European bases at Dakar, Bathurst, and Freetown on the coast of Africa are nearer to southern South America than our most advanced Caribbean bases.
If the Nazis were to capture the British naval base at Scapa Flow in Scotland they would be closer to Madison than if they were established at Lima, Peru.
As for Asia, Manchukuo is closer to Madison than is Buenos Aires. For those to whom "continental" land connections seem especially important, it may be added that a Japanese flying over the shortest route from Manchukuo to Madison (a great circle via Bering Strait) need hardly lose sight of land.
Points on the same land-mass may be as far apart in miles as places on opposite sides of an ocean, and may be still farther apart in economic distance measured by transport costs. On the other hand, there is likely to be a greater continuity of human habitation between them than between the overseas points. How shall we weigh this characteristic in appraising the significance of continental as opposed to overseas politico-economic groupings? One might argue that the continuity permits conquest and culture to spread by easy stages, and hence that each land-mass could be expected to have more political and cultural unity, more history and tradition in common, than would exist between places on separate continents. Actually, every continent has natural barriers -- deserts, mountains, swamps, jungles -- which are almost uninhabited and which may be more difficult to cross than the ocean. The sea, especially in earlier centuries, has offered one of the main means of contact between peoples on the same continent, so that the peripheral areas often developed more traits in common with each other and with other continents than with land-locked regions. Thus, the political and economic system of the coastland states of Europe spread more effectively to relatively vacant areas like America and Australia than to parts of eastern and southern Europe.
It is no accident that early civilizations developed in river valleys and that the great center of ancient times is spoken of as "the Mediterranean world" and not the European or the African world. Nor is it without significance that Europe, having the most broken coastline, best adapted for sea-borne traffic, became the originator of modern world culture and world politics, while Africa, most "continental" of all land areas because of its smooth contours and difficulty of access by sea, remained the "Dark Continent."[vi] In short, land connections, which would appear to establish easy contact between peoples on the same continent, may be barriers as well as connections, while bodies of water, appearing superficially on the map as barriers, may actually be most important connecting links. Because this has been so distinctly true in the past, the existing patterns of culture, tradition, political affiliation, and economic interdependence which confront us in the world of today are as often oceanic as they are continental.
We in this country can give the "continental" doctrine an immediate and practical test by applying it to the grand strategy of United States defense. In general, the same people who talk about "continental integration" draw a line around the so-called Western Hemisphere and refuse to concede that the United States has any vital interest outside -- except that limited aid to Britain may be desirable in order to gain time for perfecting defenses within the "hemisphere." It should be noted, however, that our relations with the Western Hemisphere countries to the south of us are not really "continental" in any significant practical sense. A land connection is afforded by the Isthmus of Panama, but no one ever travels, or sends messages, or transports goods between North and South America overland. In fact, all Latin America, not merely South America, is overseas to us, with the partial exception of Mexico. Latin America is susceptible of defense by the United States only if the United States controls the sea routes, including routes which are problems of high-seas defense.
If the Western Hemisphere, then, is to be considered as one unit for defense purposes, or for other purposes, it provides an instance not of continental but of maritime solidarity. The practical issue today, in reality, is between two kinds of maritime solidarity. Some would make our area of maritime solidarity quasi-continental -- that is, confined to North and South America and their immediate vicinities -- while others would team up with Britain in a world-girdling maritime defense group.
Which grouping offers us the best line of defense? The technology of warfare and the nature of the enemy's strategy in attack have an important bearing on that question. Recent developments in warfare include far more than the efficient use of machines. The "extended strategy" of the Nazis -- to use their own term -- involves: (1) isolating the opponent by outmanœuvring him on the chessboard of international politics, placing him, without allies, in front of vastly superior economic and military force; (2) creating confusion and fomenting an uprising from within; (3) undermining the enemy's will to resist, by propaganda stressing the goodness of Nazi purposes, the hopelessness of resisting, and by fear -- the "war of nerves"; (4) last of all, outright military attack. Against this strategy there must likewise be an "extended defense"! What grouping is best for the purpose?
Certain basic facts about the problem of defending the Western Hemisphere are now fairly well known. The American people have realized with a shock that the Monroe Doctrine has rested in the past not merely on our own power, but on the existence and the friendliness of the British Navy. If the British Navy were to be captured, or sunk, or scattered, we would face a combined Axis naval superiority that might amount to two or three to one against us. The "two-ocean navy" our Congress has voted cannot be completed before 1946. Furthermore, can we assume that a victorious Axis would be unable to match our new vessels, or to outmatch them? The estimated annual shipbuilding capacity of countries now under Nazi rule (Germany, Norway, Denmark, Holland, Belgium, France), plus that of Japan, plus that of Italy, was about 3,200,000 gross tons at the outbreak of war. In the event of a Nazi conquest of the British Isles, additional equipment rated at an annual capacity of about 2,500,000 gross tons would be in the hands of the totalitarians. The grand total so amassed is 5,700,000 gross tons, as of September 1939. It seems reasonable to assume that since then new installations and destruction by bombing may have offset each other. Over against this annual capacity of nearly 6,000,000 gross tons the United States had an estimated shipbuilding capacity (including navy yards) of perhaps 800,000 gross tons at the outbreak of war, and this had been pushed up to 1,500,000 gross tons as of January 1, 1941. Experts hold that by building new yards we can probably increase this capacity at the rate of about 1,000,000 tons a year. If that is a good estimate, it would take us more than four years to overtake totalitarian shipbuilding capacity, supposing that they stood still. In the meantime, we should start with something like a 4 to 1 shipbuilding ratio against us. This must be a most disquieting fact if we hope to defend, single-handed, distant overseas areas like the South Atlantic coast of South America.
The power of a naval force decreases with the distance it must operate from its bases. Recall, then, what was pointed out above: that the sea-distance from the southeastern coast of South America (including important cities like Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires) is shorter to Gibraltar than to Miami, shorter to Dakar than to our most advanced Caribbean base at Trinidad. Furthermore, look on the globe at the British islands in the South Atlantic -- Ascension, St. Helena, Tristan da Cunha, the Falklands -- which might become Axis outposts in case Britain lost control of the seas around Europe.
But why plan to defend southern South America, since it is so far away? If Britain should be conquered, why not "write off" that part of the Western Hemisphere, let the Axis take it if they want it, and retire to a shortened defense line running across the continent at the equator or at the level of the "bulge"? We might actually have to give serious consideration to this scheme of "quarter-sphere" defense if Britain were defeated. But there are grave weaknesses in such a defense line.
First, the tradition that the Monroe Doctrine applies to the whole of both Americas is so strong that it might not be feasible to reconcile public opinion in the United States to such a policy.
Second, this retreat from our often-announced intention to keep trespassers off both the Americas would be a psychological defeat of the first magnitude, important in the war of nerves.
Third, we should be abandoning as potential allies the most developed and progressive countries in South America, the only ones capable of contributing largely to a common defense.
Fourth, these countries exercise important leadership throughout Latin America. By abandoning them we should forfeit whatever good will and friendly coöperation we might otherwise expect from Latin American countries closer home, and we should present the Axis with unexcelled political and cultural outposts for penetration into the vital Caribbean area, which everybody agrees we must defend at all costs. This is important, in view of the fact that the most effective "secret weapon" of the Nazis thus far has been internal dissension and fifth-column activities.
Fifth, strategic raw materials like Brazilian manganese and Bolivian tin lie south of such a "quarter-sphere" defense line, and this would be an important consideration if the world oceans were closed to us -- which we would have to expect, unless we yielded to Axis demands.
Sixth, and finally, if we allow the Axis to establish strong positions "below the bulge," connected to Europe by the sea-lanes of the South Atlantic which they would control, aviation bases could be pushed northwest across the continent to threaten directly the most vital and vulnerable link in our ability to defend North America -- the Panama Canal. Already, in fact, Axis-dominated "commercial" companies, according to a revealing article in the last issue of FOREIGN AFFAIRS, are pushing in this very direction, into remote areas that offer little commercial traffic, but might provide numbers of secret landing fields.[vii] Relatively small Axis forces, hopping over the jungles in the air, could conceivably establish such a serious menace to the Canal that we would be forced to send an expeditionary force to root them out. And what permanent security would this bring us, supposing we were successful, unless we were prepared to maintain forces throughout a large part of South America?
In sum, South America is overseas to us, and important parts of it are farther from our bases than from the bases of European powers. The problem of defending South America is a maritime, not a continental problem, and if command of the seas in the South Atlantic passes to hostile powers we could neither establish bases there ourselves nor prevent them from ensconcing themselves on the Continent. Once they were there, only a major expeditionary force could root them out or prevent them from gradually working northward by successive jumps overland. Those soporific calculations about the number of ships an invader would have to have in order to send an expeditionary force from Europe to the United States, and about the perils to which such a force would be exposed from land-based defenders, would apply to us in reverse, once command of the South Atlantic had passed to the Axis. For strategy of the Nazis could place us before the dilemma, either of trying to drive them out of South America, or of letting them work northward to the Canal. In fact, the Nazis would know how to create a situation, after taking over important Latin American countries by "consent," without using any military force at all, where we would have to be the attackers.
Colonel Lindbergh testified before the House Committee on Foreign Affairs that aviation has increased the vulnerability of any country to attack from forces on the same continent, but has decreased the vulnerability of a whole continent to attack from without -- that is, by way of the seas. Presumably, this was intended to support the isolationist thesis that the United States has little to fear regardless of who wins in Europe. The hollowness of the argument is exposed by the considerations advanced above. The advantage of land-based aviation against sea attack would be our advantage only if we can assume that the United States can count on getting and holding and supplying bases in that distant overseas territory on the east coast of South America, and that we can prevent the Axis from doing so. This is a most unlikely assumption, if control of the high seas, and especially of the South Atlantic, passes to the Axis by the defeat of Britain. In other words, once control of the high seas passed from our friends to our enemies we would eventually be exposed to land-based, continental attacks by relatively small units of the Luftwaffe on the Panama Canal region, which is vital to the naval power on which defense of our own coast depends. On our side, we could find a remedy only by a major effort involving probably the transport of troops a long distance overseas in an area where the advantage of established positions and nearness to bases might be all against us.
These doubts about the security of a defense system limited to the Western Hemisphere are strengthened by consideration of the economic problems of defending against totalitarian attack. The great bargaining weakness of a Western Hemisphere economic bloc as over against an Axis-dominated world would arise from the surpluses of products competitive with our own which are produced in Latin America, especially in the temperate climate of southern South America.[viii] In 1937 continental Europe and the United Kingdom absorbed considerably more than two billion dollars' worth of Western Hemisphere exports, principally petroleum, cotton, wheat, copper, meats, corn, tobacco and linseed. Important Latin American groups depend for their income on selling such goods abroad. It is easy to write glibly about diverting production to products needed in the United States, disposing of surpluses by hemisphere stamp plans, raising living standards throughout the hemisphere by fostering industrial development, and creating cartels to limit production and to barter with Hitler. These are the things we must try to do if Britain collapses and we have to make a stand on the line of hemisphere defense. Some of them are worth doing anyway. But rechanneling of production takes time, and it meets social and political resistances. Messrs. Bidwell and Upgren have rightly emphasized that by stimulating Bolivian tin-mining or Brazilian rubber production we would not automatically reëmploy the gauchos of the Argentine pampas, or the wheat farmers of Alberta and Saskatchewan, or the tobacco growers in Virginia and North Carolina.[ix]
It is not at all clear that the Latin American countries would feel inclined to undergo difficult economic readjustments for the sake of fitting into the defense plan of the United States and thereby antagonizing the Axis. Hitler, if he had defeated Britain, could probably offer them more than we could, while demanding less from them in the way of readjustment of established patterns of production, and he could also threaten them more effectively.
If Britain can be kept in the picture, on the other hand, even if Hitler manages to hold what he has in Europe (in some kind of a stalemate or truce), the economic problem of defending the Americas becomes much more manageable. The reason is that a large volume of foodstuffs and raw materials of a sort competitive with United States production, and which we therefore do not care to import, regularly flows from such countries as Argentina and Uruguay to Britain, to be paid for by goods and services which Britain furnishes to Empire countries and to others. Some of these countries in turn sell large export surpluses in the United States (for example, rubber and tin from the East Indies), and the United States sells more than it buys in Argentina. Britain is the pivot of this triangular and multi-angular trade on which the disposal of a considerable part of South American surpluses depends. Let Britain's economic life be destroyed, or let it come under the domination of Hitler's New Order, and the effect on the economic defense of the Americas is analogous to the effect the sinking or capture of the British fleet would have on the naval defense of the Americas.
A defense area limited to the Western Hemisphere has another important economic disadvantage as compared with a world-girdling defense area based on joint British and American sea power. We would be the blockaded party. The Nazis, controlling the overseas trade routes of the world, except those in the immediate vicinity of our bases, would have on their side the quiet, undramatic, but steady weight of advantage in economic power for defense or aggression conferred by the ability to draw upon the best and cheapest sources of materials in Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and the islands of the seas, and probably portions of South America. We, and not they, would have to waste part of our productive power making substitutes and adapting our industry to inferior materials. To be sure, the United States, together with the adjacent areas that our navy could protect, is better equipped than any other region to withstand a siege. But the engineers, mechanics, machine-tools, materials and inventors used to build synthetic rubber plants, or to establish our own tin smelters, or to develop Ersatz materials could not be used at the same time for producing planes and tanks, nor for producing civilian goods. The side which controls the world oceans, and which thus enjoys access by sea to allies and neutrals alike, has an inestimable long-run advantage in the scales of economic power.
Recently the editors of Fortune captioned a pair of world charts: "U.S.A. -- Compact, Easily Defended; British Empire -- Diffuse, Vulnerable." The theory implied in these captions has certain commonly accepted elements of truth. But in them may also lurk a dangerous fallacy -- particularly dangerous under new techniques of warfare used so skillfully by the totalitarian Powers. The "diffuse, vulnerable" area, if its communications can be maintained by dominant sea power, is in a position to unite its allies and divide its enemies. It can nip in the bud, so to speak, threats to its position which may arise from any one of many different quarters -- provided it acts resolutely and in time. The "compact, easily defended" area, on the other hand, may not be able to take action against the increasing power of a potential enemy until every ally has been "mopped up," until the enemy has gathered his forces without interference and has chosen the most advantageous moment for attack. The "diffuse-vulnerable" area, always supposing it holds command of the seas, can base its military effort on the economic resources of most of the world, including the materials and the industrial man-power of allied and non-belligerent countries far out of reach of the adversary. Finally, compactness may be no particular advantage, and even a great disadvantage, in the psychological phases of modern warfare. There is an important psychological as well as material difference between surrounding the enemy and being surrounded by the enemy. In the case of the United States, this is the difference between joining with allies from all the rest of the world to help keep Hitler caged in Europe and trying to resist a Hitler who controls all the world except our immediate neighborhood. "Compact -- easily defended; diffuse -- vulnerable" tacitly assumes that the land connects, that the sea divides. Such a slogan dramatizes inaccuracies of thinking that might prove as dangerous to us as the "Maginot mentality" proved to France, as little conducive to survival as the rigid strength of the mastodon in competition with the flexibility and adaptability of other animals and man.
Incidentally, if we were forced to defend the Western Hemisphere against attack by an Axis-dominated world, and if we were successful in fighting off the attack, what would be the next move for us? Would we ever again feel secure? Would we ever again be able to organize our life on anything but a military basis from top to bottom? Would we ever be able to devote less than a quarter or a third or a half of our national income to defense purposes, unless we were able to put the enemy back across the water, to reconquer the strategic strong-points commanding access to the seas of the world, and, in effect, to reconstitute the command of the world's oceans which we now have if we act together with Britain?
The Western Hemisphere defense plan is a static plan, and either the hemisphere or the "quarter-sphere" defense lines would, on the whole, be weak compared with the maritime defense line available to us so long as Britain survives. The United States should regard Western Hemisphere defense lines as distinctly secondary, to be prepared for emergency use if the first line breaks and we are forced to fall back for a last-ditch stand. It is less risky to stand now for all-out defense, together with Britain, of the seas and the strong-points commanding the seas of the whole world -- Singapore, Hawaii, Panama, Gibraltar, Suez, and Britain itself-- than to let Britain go down and then to try to defend the Western Hemisphere practically alone.
[i] Charles A. Beard, "A Foreign Policy for the United States" (New York: Knopf, 1940); Jerome Frank, "Save America First" (New York: Harper, 1938); Stuart Chase, "The New Western Front" (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1939).
[ii] H.N. Brailsford, "From England to America: A Message." New York: Whittlesey House, 1940.
[iii] Wherever "sea power" is mentioned in this article the term must be understood to include the necessary complement of air-power required under modern conditions in order to hold command of the surface of the seas and in order to defend the bases -- military and industrial -- on which sea power rests.
[iv] I am indebted to Mr. William M. Gavigan, of Funch, Edye and Company, steamship agents and ship brokers, for the rate data used in these comparisons.
[v] This is not a rhetorical request; it is meant seriously. Illusions persist in the minds of all of us from the old school-book device of flat maps which break the world into "hemispheres" that have no objective existence whatever in nature.
[vi] For each mile of coastline Europe has 289 square miles of surface, North America 407, Australia 534, South America 689, Asia 763, Africa 1420. (Derwent Whittlesey, "The Earth and the State: A Study of Political Geography." New York: Henry Holt, 1939, p. 308.)
[vii] Melvin Hall and Walter Peck, "Wings for the Trojan Horse," FOREIGN AFFAIRS, January 1941.
[viii] Cf. Alvin H. Hansen, "Hemisphere Solidarity," FOREIGN AFFAIRS, October 1940.
[ix] Percy W. Bidwell and Arthur R. Upgren, "A Trade Policy for National Defense," FOREIGN AFFAIRS, January 1941.