THE recent intervention of the United States in the domestic politics of Nicaragua, and the recurrence of the periodical "crisis" in the relations between Washington and Mexico City, have loosed, as usual, the floodgates of criticism in the newspaper press of Europe and of South America. Not that Europe has vital political interests at stake in Mexico -- the present agrarian and labor Government of that country commands little sympathy in capitalistic Germany or France or England or Spain -- and still less is she concerned with the vagaries of factional chiefs in the republic of Nicaragua. But given the present unpopularity of Uncle Shylock among his European debtors, and the ever-present jealousy of expanding American trade and finance in the markets of Latin America, the European press hails with joy an opportunity to "put us in bad" with Europe's customers in the southern continent.

The case of the South American press is somewhat different. It reflects a dislike and suspicion of the United States among the peoples of Latin America that has existed for several generations. This has been for the most part a political distrust, engendered by episodes in the past diplomatic history of the western hemisphere, increased by the extraordinary growth of the United States in population, wealth and political prestige, and fostered by those European rivals who would like to see the preponderant influence of the great northern republic displaced by that of certain kindred trans-Atlantic peoples. And its strength has been in inverse ratio to the distance from the shores of the United States. In the more progressive states farthest south this sentiment as a fear of political absorption scarcely exists or is rapidly disappearing. But there remains a dread of the overwhelming economic power commanded by the United States, especially since the World War; for today Latin America comes to New York for its financing, and looks in the same direction for a large share of its imports. And with it is mingled a personal dislike of Americans, men and women, who in increasing numbers have been coming to reside in Latin America as the representatives of our industrial and financial enterprise.

The existence among our southern neighbors of a belief that the United States harbors imperialistic designs upon the entire hemisphere need not be surprising even to the provincial "Yankee" mind. The Monroe Doctrine itself, for the maintenance of which many Americans believe that the Latin republics owe them a debt of gratitude, is not regarded by these republics as an expression of international altruism, nor in fact was it from its inception ever intended so to be. That this principle of American policy has served at times to protect weaker states from European aggression is doubtless true; but the interpretations of the Doctrine in later practice have also given occasion for the charge that it is but a camouflage for the political and economic hegemony of the United States. Certain international events have lent force to such an interpretation. The cession by Mexico in 1848 of a third of her territory to the United States after a war for which Mexico was not solely responsible, the picaresque activities of Mr. Walker and other North American adventurers in Central America in the following decade, the imbecile "dollar diplomacy" of the United States in the War of the Pacific between Chile and Peru, the Panama "incident" of 1903, the establishment of protectorates during the past twenty-five years over new or incorrigible republics in the West Indies and Central America -- all have been used, and are used, by the hostile propagandist to inculcate fear or suspicion of the United States. In this pragmatic world there are of course two sides to every question; but it is just this that North Americans, including their statesmen, have often been prone to forget. There is also a Latin American side.

More recently, since the paramount interest of the United States in the Caribbean area necessitated by the building and maintenance of the Panama Canal has been acknowledged by the world at large, American statesmen in public addresses and in messages to Congress have with fair consistency endeavored to counteract the Latin's suspicion of the Anglo-Saxon. The visit to South America of Secretary of State Elihu Root in 1906, and the definition by President Wilson of that policy toward Latin America by some called the Wilson Doctrine, made a deep and lasting impression in many sections of the southern continent. There grew up an immense admiration and respect for Wilson, which was increased by his public statements during the World War and his rôle at the Conference of Versailles, an enthusiasm which persists to this day and is an element of no little significance in cementing the friendship between Latin and English America. This, too, in spite of his ill-advised expedition to Vera Cruz, and the military occupation of the island republics of Haiti and Santo Domingo. The disclaimers of imperialistic aims pronounced by Root and Wilson, and reiterated by succeeding presidents and secretaries of state, have had a calming effect upon South American opinion. They have served, together with the numerous inter-American congresses, political, scientific, financial, etc., of the past generation, to pave the way toward something like a genuine Pan Americanism.

In spite of such "fraternal formulas," however, and in spite of improving communications, cables and steamships, newspapers and "movies," or even perhaps because of them, an inherited distrust of the Yankee persists in South America. It does not apply to all South Americans -- the United States has many loyal friends and warm admirers in the southern continent -- but in the thoughtful part of the population there exist influential elements of opposition whose propaganda is very active, and which cannot with safety be ignored. It behooves us, therefore, to examine some of the sources of suspicion and misunderstanding. The barriers of "race," fear of economic domination, mistrust or misconstruing of the Monroe Doctrine and of Pan Americanism, United States policy in the Caribbean, the desire for a cultural and political union exclusively Latin in America, hostile propaganda of European origin whether political, commercial or intellectual -- these are perhaps the more apparent obstacles to the development of harmony and good will between North and South America.

The psychological barrier, the writer believes, is often exaggerated. It is exaggerated by those too stupid or lazy to make the effort to understand an alien point of view; it is overemphasized by individuals who have a special interest in widening the breach between the two racial groups. It is, moreover, more easily talked about than defined. Differences of race, it is true, exist, but they are often the consequence of environment or of historical circumstance, matters subject to correction by education and experience. The Latin American finds difficulty in understanding the "gringo" or Anglo-Saxon, and the latter seems to have as much difficulty in arriving at a sympathetic appreciation of the Latin. But part of this is due to an atavistic instinct to hate or suspect the foreigner, the legacy of a more primitive, tribal age; and part is "protective coloring," an exaggerated egotism and national pride -- inferiority complex, we call it today. The younger, pioneering peoples of the New World, whether in Latin or in Anglo-America, display these particular varieties of provincialism to a marked degree; they are familiar phenomena of the frontier.

The inferiority complex is a fact easily observed in Latin Americans, and requires little comment. It connotes a transitional stage in their national evolution, from the colonial status to that of intellectual as well as political freedom. Latin Americans hate, admire, envy and fear the United States at one and the same time. It is more apparent, perhaps, in tropical or sub-tropical countries, where European immigration has been slight, and where the bulk of the population are Indian or represent a mixture of the white race with the Indian or the negro. Yet there is nothing in the history of Latin America to prove the essential inferiority of the Mestizo. The whole matter of the mixture of unlike races has never been adequately studied, or approached in a scientific manner. Politically, the Anglo-Saxon has been more fortunate in his background. The Latin achieved independence without experience in popular government and without the public virtues which such experience engenders. The whole history of Latin America during the past hundred years, indeed, is a history of slow and often painful education in self-government. And considering the obstacles involved, in some countries the progress achieved has been remarkable.

Latin America is educating itself in ways other than political. The development of a general interest and participation in sports during the past decade has been extraordinary. Association football is now played in all the countries south of the equator, and the matches draw enormous crowds. International athletic meets are also held, golf has taken a strong hold upon Uruguay and Argentina, and in Peru the devotees of the bull-fight ruefully admit that that form of diversion is doomed to disappear -- the Sunday afternoon crowd prefers a football match. This new interest in athletics and the outdoor life is of more importance than might at first sight appear. The physical benefits to be derived therefrom are obvious, but as important are the social effects. Through games the Latin American is learning the meaning of fair play, of coöperation, and of subordination of the individual to the achievement of a common end. The lessons acquired on the athletic field will be carried into political and social life, and will tend to narrow greatly the chasm that supposedly separates the Latin "psychology" from that of the Anglo-American.

Secondary factors in the problem of Latin American dislike or distrust of the United States are difference of language, difference of religion, and the race or color prejudice of North Americans. Difference of language becomes less formidable with the general increase of education. The speaking of English is almost as common as that of French among cultivated Latin Americans today, and the well-nigh universal instruction in Spanish in the schools of the United States in recent years is a happy augury for the future. As Roman Catholicism is the creed of millions of citizens of the United States, it can scarcely be said that a religious barrier exists. Nevertheless the widespread activities of North American Protestant missionary agencies in a continent traditionally Roman Catholic makes the South American think of the United States as a Protestant country. Religious proselytism by North Americans he naturally resents, with its implication that his countrymen are heathen to be classed with the South Sea islanders and the tribes of inland Asia. The South American nations are Christian communities. It is a question if the results achieved in the way of religious conversion are at all commensurate with the effort and money expended.

The most important and beneficent aspect of North American missionary effort is educational. The Y. M. C. A. and the Y. W. C. A. are becoming solidly established in the principal South American cities. The Methodists have a number of excellent schools, and Mackenzie College, a Presbyterian institution of collegiate grade in São Paulo, has long been a source of local pride. The Colegio Internacional in Asunción, maintained by the Disciples of Christ, is one of the most progressive forces in the educational life of Paraguay. In most of these schools there is little or no Protestant propaganda, and to that extent they are successful in avoiding native hostility. But even in educational activities a tactful consideration of native susceptibilities is imperative. When at the Pan American Protestant Congress held at Montevideo in April, 1925, a campaign was announced to raise $2,345,000 for "educational, social welfare and health work in South America, designed to cement the friendly relations between the United States and Latin American nations," there was curious comment in some of the native newspapers. And it is always a question whether such patronizing does not serve rather to alienate than to conciliate.

The Anglo-Saxon prejudice against men of color is a constant factor of disturbance, and it works infinite harm to the cause of international fraternity. It is especially active against the citizens of countries like Brazil, which with a large negro or mulatto population draw no color line; against the Andean republics, which are mostly of Indian or Mestizo complexion; and against our more immediate neighbors about the Caribbean Sea. But even an Argentine or a Chilean occasionally suffers because of our inability to distinguish a white man from all the "other mulattos and half breeds" of which South America is supposed to consist.

The exhibition of a raw race prejudice in the presence of our Latin neighbors is as often as not the outward and visible sign of that inward and spiritual crudity displayed by so many Americans who travel or reside in foreign parts. As a matter of fact, Americans in South America do not as a whole represent the best that the United States has to offer in intelligence, breeding or personality. Perhaps it is not to be expected that they should. But as a class they are not liked by South Americans Argentines contend that Americans in their country do not measure up to the best in the British colony there. The same feeling seems to prevail in Uruguay and in Brazil. Americans are openly criticized for their loud manners, for their excessive drinking, sometimes for their aloofness from the natives, or their refusal to learn Spanish or Portuguese. There is frequently little more to be said for their wives, who have no real interests to engage their time and who find little in common with native women. The explanation is found in the fact that the United States differs from the older, more densely populated, or less prosperous, countries of Europe, in not having an exportable surplus of first class men and women to send to South America.

Our trade with South America has increased enormously during the past decade, as well as our capital investment in that continent. Our exports in 1925 amounted to over 399 million dollars, and imports to nearly 517 millions, a gain in total trade of 300 percent over that of the years immediately preceding the World War. With the cessation or decrease of the flow of capital from Europe, the governments of South America have also had to look chiefly to New York for their financing. In 1912 the total investments of the United States in South America were estimated at about 170 million dollars, of which less than 15 millions represented public securities. In 1924 they had increased to 1,229 millions, over half of which had been loaned to national, state or municipal governments.

Enlarged economic interest means increased responsibility. Fortunately the lax business methods formerly charged against American manufacturers and export commission houses have mostly disappeared, although some of the old complaints are still occasionally heard. In so far as European commercial rivalry is concerned, Americans are in the hands of their competitors, who lose no opportunity to advance their own goods and interests at the expense of those of the United States. There is no doubt considerable propaganda viva voce against American trade, and it occasionally crops up in the foreign language press. Sharp commercial practices are not unknown, but they are probably not more frequent or more heinous than seems to be normal in business everywhere, and responsibility is very likely about evenly divided. Americans, indeed, suffer less from the effects of unfair or questionable tactics than before or during the war, due to the large increase of their own commercial facilities, banks, cables, steamship lines and chambers of commerce.

A consideration of the practices of our European competitors in South American trade is of importance in so far as they influence the attitude of merchants and government officials toward American products and American methods, and incidentally color their political reaction to the United States as well. That the influence upon American commerce is very considerable seems doubtful. Vastly more important are the charges of economic exploitation and veiled political imperialism which are constantly made in South America against American "big business." They are aired in the native press, and they are openly or secretly encouraged by our European rivals. The intrusion of American capital into the continent, in the form of government loans or for the development of mines, oil wells and other industries, is the chief source of misgiving on the part of often well-meaning but generally ill-informed South Americans. The Caribbean countries are considered to be beyond hope of recovery, but farther south it is Peru and Bolivia which unscrupulous American capitalists are said to have by the throat. An anti-American article in La Razon of Buenos Aires stated that "it is notorious that the principal Peruvian enterprises are in the hands of the Yankees. The railroads, the tramways, the banks, even the school system, have been delivered by President Leguia to the North American capitalists." As a matter of fact, the railways of Peru are owned by British capital, the tramways by Italian capital, and of the twelve banks in Peru, one is American.

One may properly inquire why the enormous investments of British, French and German capital in South American countries do not cause similar concern. One answer is that occasionally they do. But Latin Americans have been accustomed to rest secure in the protection extended to them by the Monroe Doctrine, while as against the United States itself the Doctrine affords no protection but may even serve to conceal American encroachments upon their independence. The past record of the United States in the western hemisphere, its despoiling of Mexico and Colombia, and its interventions in Haiti, Santo Domingo and Central America, does not seem to them to be very reassuring. Whatever may be the present policy of the State Department at Washington, we suffer from the inheritance of an unfortunate reputation. And however free of blame may be the history of our financial penetration in the West Indies and adjacent regions, the development of something like a political hegemony in that area at the same time is a coincidence too striking to escape the attention of South American observers.

About the Monroe Doctrine there is as much confusion of thought and utterance in South America as there is in the United States. There is no question but that it is regarded by great numbers in these southern countries as a sinister menace to their national sovereignty and dignity. First promulgated as a warning against the extension of monarchical institutions and of further European colonization in the western hemisphere, they believe that it has come to imply paramount interest and hegemony. It has been unpopular among citizens of the stronger South American states because it seems to spell for them political inferiority. It is disliked in the weaker states because of our assumed responsibility for their good behavior. It has not been a force making for solidarity of sentiment in the two Americas.

Misunderstanding of the Monroe Doctrine is largely due to the fact that, in the words of Charles E. Hughes, "it has often been treated as though it were our sole policy in this hemisphere, and as though every action bearing upon our relation to our sister republics must be referred to it." Consequently there has been a mass of contradictory opinions in this country, official as well as private. Many, including senators and newspaper editors, seem to have the vaguest notion as to what the Doctrine really signifies, although they cling to it as to a fetish and can readily be led into a war with the cry that it is imperilled. In spite of Secretary Olney's famous declaration of thirty years ago, it is not an international gospel proclaiming the United States master in this hemisphere, with unlimited right of intervention in the domestic concerns of its neighbors. In view of certain "corollaries" of the Doctrine, however, and our interventions in the West Indies and Central America, it is not surprising that Latin Americans confuse it with "imperialism," "hegemony," "dollar diplomacy," and analogous concepts.There is a widespread belief that all the events that have determined the growth of this country at the expense of the independence or territorial integrity of other nations, from the annexation of Texas to the military occupation of Haiti, have their root in this American diplomatic principle. The rapprochement obvious among the Latin American peoples today, and natural and desirable from many points of view, too often has a basis in fear of the Colossus of the North. And the organization of something like a league of American nations, which is a general aspiration to the southward, to many seems more expedient as an Ibero-American league than as a Pan American league dominated by the United States. The Latin American mentality is disturbed by what it considers the disparity of criterions appearing in the United States regarding our foreign policy in general and the Monroe Doctrine in particular. It is therefore important that citizens of the United States know their own mind and come to some general agreement as to what the Doctrine means.

The watchword of those who labor in the cause of intercontinental solidarity is Pan Americanism. This expression, so often used, is rarely defined. It has been to some extent the substance of things hoped for, in a measure the evidence of things not seen. In the words of Alejandro Alvarez, it rests upon the conviction that "there are, among the nations of the New World, besides the continental solidarity implied in the Monroe Doctrine and its amplifications, common interests and problems, political and economic, derived from their situation on the same continent, which is different in its political and economic conditions from the continent of Europe."

But there are those, especially in Latin America, who deny that these primary and mutual interests exist, and who stress rather the barrier of language, and the differences of culture, race, and legal and intellectual traditions that keep north and south apart. Or they assert that these "common interests" are conjured up by the United States merely as a cloak for its political and economic ambitions in the western hemisphere, to cover a policy of paramount interest which is inconsistent with the basic Pan American principle of the equality of States. In short, our sincerity is impugned. There is also no agreement as to the kind or the degree of collaboration that is necessary or possible. Some ardent Pan Americanists desire a political league of American states, analogous to the League in Europe, and operating within or in harmony with the larger organization. Others are content with the strengthening of commercial bonds and with coöperation along social and intellectual lines.

Whether a genuine league of American nations is practical or not is perhaps open to question. It seems that either the United States, Argentina and the few other first class American powers must expect to find themselves overruled and outvoted by a majority of the smaller backward states, or be prepared themselves to dictate the policy of the league. The former alternative is unthinkable, especially in view of the fact that many of the smaller states are governed by dictators or irresponsible oligarchs; the latter would violate what has always been held to be a fundamental principle of Pan Americanism, the legal equality of nations. Experience has shown, as at the Fifth Pan American Conference held at Santiago in 1923, that the nine small republics of Central America and the West Indies, to which on occasion Mexico, Colombia and Venezuela may be joined -- i.e. the states lying within the zone of paramount interest of the United States -- are apt to form a bloc which in voting power can control a congress of American nations. Of course the problems of uniting the divergent interests and ambitions of large and small states in an international league is not absent from the organization centred at Geneva. It constitutes one of the major political problems of the twentieth century.

Unquestionably the chief obstacle to a happy coöperation between Latin and English America is just this question of our relations with the Caribbean republics. The less friendly South American newspapers watch our movements with the intensest jealousy. The protectorate over Cuba, benevolent though it may be, and our policing of the more erratic republics of Central America, expose us to endless criticism. The interventions of American marines and diplomatic agents in Nicaragua and Honduras are pictured as the cause rather than the consequence of the political inquietude -- "alterations of the public order" -- in these countries. And our interminable quarrel with the Mexican Government over the recent land and petroleum legislation of that republic is the occasion for bitter and often malicious attacks upon the United States. "Yankee imperialism" is accused of driving Mexico to the wall, of deliberately aiming to subvert the independence and integrity of our neighboring republic. Only a few of the more friendly and conservative newspapers express regret that certain Latin states should still recur to political methods discredited elsewhere, and while remarking the increased influence of the United States within such countries admit that under the circumstances it is inevitable and can be eliminated only by the social, political and economic progress of the peoples concerned.

For Pan Americanism its foes would substitute Pan Latin Americanism, or Pan Hispanism. They advocate a Latin American league, which would present a defensive barrier to our imperialistic democracy. Outside the vague and ill-defined "Pan American solidarity" exists a real identity of interests and aspirations among the peoples of Iberian origin. This is already partially realized in the annual Assemblies at Geneva where the delegates of the Latin American republics frequently vote alike in matters of world interest. As the United States insists that the Monroe Doctrine is purely unilateral, a policy exclusively Yankee, consulting only North American interests, and as it has opposed all efforts to give the Doctrine a collective character and convert it into an international formula, notably at Santiago in 1923, the other states must find a policy and an organization consonant with their own especial interests.

There can be no doubt but that the creation of a world league centred in Europe has influenced radically the relations of the United States with the Latin American republics. The latter accepted the League idea with great enthusiasm, as the harbinger of a new era of peace and international conciliation. Most of them joined the League, and some have taken an active part in its deliberations. They have furnished two presidents to the Assembly, and have had a considerable share in the work of its numerous commissions and committees. The article of the Covenant excluding from the League's jurisdiction regional understandings like the Monroe Doctrine is not popular with South Americans. States like Bolivia which would submit their international problems to the League for solution find their way blocked by the disinclination of the latter to incur Washington's displeasure by meddling in American affairs. The members of the League, moreover, in agreeing to sacrifice part of their "independence" by submitting their international disputes to the judgment of a World Court, have taken a long step toward compulsory arbitration, a principle which the United States has consistently refused to entertain. The League, therefore, in spite of its weakness, offers to South America a protection which the United States is unwilling to concede. And there is no doubt that those who fear the imperialism of the United States see in the League a possible support against the encroachments of the northern republic. If the Pan American movement is "an attempt to develop a Continental system based on coöperation and community of interest, a system from which fear of aggression has been eliminated and in which physical power is not the dominating influence,"[i] then why the American distrust of Geneva, and why the refusal of the United States to support the efforts to organize an American League at Santiago in 1923? The answer of the South American critics is that Washington clings to its policy of aggressive imperialism, and is therefore disinclined to submit its conduct to the judgment of the world.

On the other hand, the effects of our abstention from the League may easily be exaggerated. It is not altogether without significance that of the two largest South American powers, Brazil has stepped out of the League, and Argentina, although nominally a member, has taken no part in its deliberations since the first meeting of the Geneva Assembly in 1920. It will be interesting to observe whether, now that Brazil is out, Argentina will resume her seat in the League and seek the vacant rôle of spokesman for Latin America. Of the other South American governments, most of them seem to be interested largely because of the international standing in world affairs which membership implies, rather than because of any vital concern in the League's problems. Their real international interests are much nearer home, in the American continent. Moreover, anything like a genuine union of political ideas and purposes among the Latin American governments is still far from realization. Guatemala or Venezuela are far removed from Argentina or Chile in more ways than one, and when Portuguese Brazil sought to force the hand of the League and secure a permanent seat in the Council, the sister American republics, while recognizing the desirability or the necessity of permanent American representation, displayed no enthusiasm to delegate it exclusively to Brazil.

Propaganda against the United States in South America itself takes various forms, and is variously inspired. In part it is the expression of a commendable race pride, a desire to maintain and develop the heritage of Latin civilization bequeathed by Mediterranean Europe, a fear that unless Latin Americans bestir themselves they may be absorbed, if not politically, at least in a cultural sense, by the vigorous, expanding Anglo-Saxon power to the northward. Latin American intellectuals and men of letters have therefore been trying to draw together in a common effort and aspiration, by educational, literary and moral bonds to unite their peoples in defense of the collective patrimony.

Anti-American propaganda in part also derives its inspiration from Europe, especially from France and Spain. There is no doubt that Spain and the Spaniards constitute our bitterest and most relentless foe in Latin America. Spain is keenly desirous to recover her former ascendency among the younger American communities which she herself established four centuries ago. Her ambitions are political, to create a Pan-Hispanic entente in which she will be primus inter pares; they are also intellectual, social, and scientific, to develop an Hispanic cultural union which will compete with and supersede the Pan American Union in course of evolution today. Her ultimate goal is by these means to recover the position she once held as a great world power. But there also exists a Pan Latin ideal, for which France especially is sponsor. The literary and artistic standards of the more progressive South American nations have long ago been set by France, and her influence upon law and jurisprudence has been considerable. Every good South American, if he can, goes to Paris before he dies. France, too, therefore, would like to consolidate her position both political and economic in the world by drawing together the Latin peoples of America under her protecting wing. And the Pan Latins and the Pan Hispanists do not always see eye to eye. The latter resent the former's intrusion and charge them with trying to filch away the Hispanic birthright.

On top of all this is the propaganda emanating from Mexico, and to a lesser degree from others of our Latin neighbors which sometimes feel the heavy hand of Uncle Sam. In Mexico the Pan Hispanic seed falls upon fertile ground. And Mexico calls loudest for relief from the incubus of North American imperialistic ambition. During the Carranza administration diplomatic intrigue against the United States was very active. When General Obregón became President of Mexico this hostility somewhat abated, but the Calles government has shown an inclination to return to former ways. Mexican legations and consulates in South America regularly furnish copy to the local newspapers, dispatches which are generally dated from Mexico City and obviously inspired, and which often supply the text for editorial comment. And the Mexican minister or ambassador can generally be counted upon as a guest at meetings and banquets associated in any way with pro-Latin or anti-American purposes.

The United States thus faces a formidable array of hostile or competing European interests in South America. All of them act upon the belief that a sure basis for the extension of commercial and political influence lies in the establishment of cultural contacts or exchanges. To this end the French have created in Argentina an "Instituto de la Universidad de Paris en Buenos Aires," and the Spaniards an "Asociación Cultural Española." The Italians support an " Instituto Argentino de Cultura Itálica," and the Germans an "Institución Cultural Argentino-Alemana." At Rio de Janeiro there is likewise an "Instituto Franco-Brasileiro de Alta Cultura," and in due time doubtless similar organizations will be established at other strategic centres in the South American continent. Each of these associations brings distinguished lecturers from Europe each year, and all of them, so far as the writer is aware, have been established since the war.

If we are to retain or increase the friendship of South American peoples for the United States, we must carefully watch our step, not only in our relations with Mexico and the Caribbean countries, but in our conduct at Pan American conferences, whether they be political, economic or scientific, in our negotiation of international loans, and in our efforts at the mediation of South American disputes. American consular and diplomatic representatives must possess tact and understanding, and have a reasonable appreciation of the racial susceptibilities and cultural achievements of Latin American countries. Political appointments in the past have frequently been disastrous from the point of view of inter-American relations, and our representation today in some of the countries might conceivably be improved.

If the present cultural isolation of the United States from South America is an obstacle to the Pan American idea, as seems unquestionable, it behooves us to follow in the path blazed by our European competitors. Frequent exchanges of university professors; scholarships to North American universities such as those so abundantly provided for European students by the Commonwealth Fund and the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Foundation; more direct acquaintance with South American countries and their people by North American citizens of public prominence or intellectual distinction; American weeklies or monthlies in important South American cities, to which intelligent and friendly Latin Americans living in the United States might contribute -- such are the obvious ways of approach.

Whether or not opinion hostile to the United States is gaining ground in South America is perhaps a debatable question. Beneath the opposition to North American imperialism, or to Pan Americanism under the leadership of the United States, there is a sincere and widespread desire for harmony and cordial intercourse. There is, however, also a real fear that the northern republic, or at least an influential part of its citizens, does not reciprocate this friendly feeling, but is ever ready to sacrifice the independence or integrity of the Latin American nations to its own selfish and material ends. Yet despite the fact that past misdeeds seem to speak louder than an occasional gesture of friendship, despite our abstention from the League of Nations, the writer feels that confidence in the United States during the past decade has probably increased rather than diminished. As before remarked, this country has many warm and loyal admirers among South Americans -- even in an occasional Spaniard such as the distinguished writer, Ramiro de Maeztu. Given a reasoned and far-sighted diplomacy at Washington, an intelligent and organized propaganda can easily increase their number, and serve to persuade our southern neighbors that the imperialistic spirit is not a dominating one in this country, but rather a spirit of coöperation and community of interest.

[i] Dr. Leo S. Rowe at the Institute of Politics, Williamstown, Mass., August 6, 1925, as reported in the New York Times.

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