Stop Tiptoeing Around Russia
It Is Time to End Washington’s Decades of Deference to Moscow
FIVE peace treaties were signed at Paris on February 10, 1947. These treaties -- with Italy, Rumania, Bulgaria, Hungary and Finland -- have aroused no strong opposition, and no noticeable enthusiasm, in the United States. The Senate ratified the Italian treaty by 79 votes to 10 and the others without a recorded vote. They were regarded as a necessary step in putting an end to armistice régimes and the military occupation of former enemy states. But the terms themselves and the manner of their negotiation seemed a far cry from the firm basis of an enduring peace for which the United States had hoped and planned during the war. Former Secretary Byrnes, who negotiated the treaties, ran no risk of contradiction when he called them "not perfect;" he defended them as the best we could get in the long, hard process of bargaining with our Allies. President Truman, on signing the instruments of ratification, stated that the terms were "not in full accord with our desires," and held out the possibility of later revision within the framework of the United Nations.
When we think of a peace settlement, we think first of all of boundaries. We want to know what the new Europe looks like on the map. And, as Dr. Isaiah Bowman recently pointed out in these pages, it is not just a question of lines and colors on the map, for territorial settlements touch deeply-rooted sentiments of individuals and groups and involve "all the complexities of civilization." [i] History has taught the American people to be concerned with the boundary disputes of Europe. Such disputes have been the occasion of the outbreak of two world wars into which we have been drawn. The territorial settlement of 1947, or rather of 1944-1947, deserves our attention. How was it made and how does it conform to American ideas of justice and American hopes for a peaceful Europe?
America, which had taken a leading part in tracing the frontiers of 1919-1920, only to withdraw from Europe and decline all responsibility for upholding them, bore its share of blame for the breakdown which occurred in 1938 and after. President Roosevelt and the State Department, in planning an active American rôle in making and maintaining the peace which would follow victory in the Second World War, recognized as of key importance: 1, an international organization both strong enough to preserve the peace against aggressors and flexible enough to relax pressures on boundaries by an orderly process of peaceful change; and 2, a territorial settlement which would of itself minimize friction and contribute to peace and stability. Whereas the American preparation for the Peace Conference of 1919 was done by the "Inquiry," a group of scholars working outside the State Department under the direction of Colonel House, the similar territorial studies undertaken between 1942 and 1945 were in the hands of a special committee headed by Secretary Hull and Under Secretary Welles, and composed of State Department officials and a few prominent outside experts. With this committee, in later stages of the planning, there met several Senators and Representatives of both parties.[ii] It was served by a group of State Department experts drawn largely from the universities but containing a sprinkling of experienced Foreign Service officers. The subcommittees of this Committee examined alternatives and recommended, in most cases, solutions deemed preferable from the point of view of long-term interests of the United States. In 1944 the Department's Committee on Postwar Programs approved a tentative position on each of the thirty-odd European boundary disputes.
Dr. Bowman, who was chief American territorial expert at Paris in 1919 and served as chairman of the State Department's subcommittee on territorial problems in 1942 and 1943, has pointed, in the article already cited, to the "principle of fairness" as the measuring stick which the United States must apply in working for a peace of justice buttressed by coöperative will and enterprise. This was one of the general criteria which determined the tentative American views arrived at during the war. Suggested solutions were weighed in terms of their probable contribution to peaceful and good-neighborly relations between the nations concerned. Economic, political, psychological and other aspects of each problem came into consideration in the application of the general principles. There was no thought of extensive changes or of an entirely new settlement. After all, the war was being fought against those who had violated the legal boundaries and had presumed to redraw the map of Europe to suit their own purposes. As a matter of principle, in the American view, the territorial changes made by Hitler and his allies must be nullified. On the other hand, the prewar frontiers were not regarded as sacred. Demands for their revision would be considered, as far as possible, on their merits.
Some territorial cessions, according to the tentative American views, would certainly be required of Italy, which had obtained territory beyond its ethnic frontiers after the First World War, subjected its Austrian and Jugoslav minorities to discrimination and persecution, and pursued a policy of aggression against its neighbors. As for the many territorial disputes of Danubian and Balkan Europe, the American plans envisaged only a few changes. Where two enemy states were involved, the purpose was to find the fairest and most stable solution. When it came to disputes between Allied and enemy states, the problem was admittedly more difficult for political reasons. Two enemy states, Hungary and Bulgaria, had their territory pruned after the previous war rather beyond what was called for by the language statistics or, some felt, by the dictates of justice; partly for this reason no reconciliation between them and the "satisfied" neighboring nations had taken place in the inter-war period. In the Second World War they again chose the wrong side, but the distinction between Allied and enemy nations in the Balkans was not always so clear as the Allied governments-in-exile would have had the world believe. All of them were victims of Hitler; all were divided internally; all (though admittedly in different degrees) had their collaborators and their resistance movements. If long-term stability in this region was the American purpose, there was something to be said for avoiding, in territorial disputes, the ideas of rewarding our allies and penalizing our enemies. This would mean, for example, opposing the Greek claim to parts of Bulgaria. It might mean, to take another case, favoring Hungary's claim to the solidly Magyar-populated territory just across the frontier in Czechoslovakia. No firm decision was ever taken in Washington on this point. To suggest to Allied states that they give up territory was too high a political hurdle to jump -- especially while the war was on. The immediate disadvantages were apparent; the long-term benefits were intangible. The United States would, of course, support any boundary changes which the parties immediately concerned might work out between themselves, but it was expecting a good deal of the governments which would make their appearance after the war to count on them to find constructive solutions, through direct negotiations, to frontier disputes that had kept these nations at odds for generations.
It was realized in Washington that this matter of trimming frontiers here and there in order to "improve" on the work of the Paris Peace Conference was not the central problem of the coming territorial settlement. The central problems were two -- Germany and Russia. Our preliminary position on Germany, once the idea of partition was rejected, was to strip the Reich of all its gains made under Hitler, leave the frontier intact in the west (except for possible minor adjustments), and revise the frontier with Poland in the east. Danzig and a part of Upper Silesia would go to Poland. The "free city" solution for Danzig had been tried and had failed. German Upper Silesia had a large Polish population, and reunion of its industrial area with that of Polish Silesia would bring real economic benefits to Poland and perhaps to all of central and eastern Europe. East Prussia was a more puzzling item. If some solution, such as emigration, could be found for the problem of its German population, cession of East Prussia to Poland would happily eliminate the insoluble question of corridors and sub-corridors. Adding Danzig and East Prussia to Poland would not square with the Atlantic Charter, but the Germans were not to have the benefit of the Charter on this particular issue, over which they had thrown Europe into war in 1939. Two of our major Allies, France and Russia, had drastic plans for Germany's frontiers which paid even less heed to the Charter's provision against territorial changes "that do not accord with the freely expressed wishes of the peoples concerned."
More difficult even than the German frontiers were the territorial problems raised by Russia. Here the United States was dealing not with terms to be imposed on an enemy but with the appetite of an ally which was bearing the main burden of the war in Europe and was likely to be in a position to take by force the territories to which it laid claim. In the American view all territorial changes since Hitler's seizure of Austria, including Russia's gains in the period of partnership with Hitler, ought to be subject to review at the peace settlement. The State Department did not consider the Soviet-Finnish frontier of 1940, which deprived Finland of its second city and its best land and industries, as a solution likely to bring stability in the future. It did not condone Soviet seizure of the three Baltic states and hoped that they might again become independent, with Soviet security needs met by special arrangements for bases or other facilities. It saw the need of a shift of Poland's prewar eastern boundary, but not as far as the Ribbentrop-Molotov line of 1939 or the Curzon line, both of which would leave outside Poland as many as four million Poles and the Polish cities of Lw6w and Vilna. It had no strong objection to the acquisition of Bessarabia and northern Bukovina by the U.S.S.R. but wished to keep open the possibility of changes, since the frontier which had been forced on Rumania in 1940 was by no means the ethnic line between Rumanians and Ukrainians.
The Soviet Government did not regard its western frontier, as it existed on June 22, 1941, as subject to discussion on the part of its allies or of any future peace conference. The United States was therefore faced with a difficult political decision. It could have made an attempt, when the German armies were still deep in Russia, to work out among the Big Three compromise solutions aimed at meeting Soviet security needs without incorporating into the Soviet Union, against their will, large numbers of Finns, Baltic peoples, Poles and Rumanians. An effort might have been made to use the machinery of the European Advisory Commission, established by the Moscow Conference of 1943 and meeting in London, to seek such solutions or at least to reach agreement on the principles which would guide the coming territorial settlement and on procedures for the occupation and administration of disputed areas pending final decisions on boundaries. Such an approach probably would have failed. That it was not attempted was as much due to Soviet reluctance as to American or British procrastination; but the result was to strengthen the Soviet conviction that the United States either had no real interest in the matter or could be outmanœuvred. The United States announced instead a policy of postponement of territorial questions till the peace settlement.
Within the Government various reasons were given for delay. But delay was not a policy which had unanimous approval by all concerned. Some advocated delay to give scope to a "cooling-off" process supposed to be desirable. Others urged action only to find that two of our Allies had opinions of their own as to timing and peacemaking. All recognized that the last phases of the war might have conclusive effects upon territorial solutions. It is difficult to dislodge a victor who has paid a high price in blood for territory essential to victory.
Our Soviet allies experienced no such division of opinion. As the Red Army swept westward into central Europe in 1944 and 1945, the Soviet Union was able to establish complete control of the region which contained the great majority of Europe's territorial disputes. It set its western frontier where it wished, even beyond the line of June 1941, adding to the territory held then the Petsamo district in Finland, the northern part of East Prussia and, by a direct agreement with Czechoslovakia, the province of Subcarpathian Ruthenia; on the Polish frontier the Russians made a slight concession, substituting a modified Curzon line for the partition line of 1939. Beyond the newly established border of the U.S.S.R., in the countries under Soviet occupation or control, the Soviets made such changes as they found it in their political interest to make.
The United States had a choice only between approving the frontiers set by the Russians, by silence or by express consent, and protesting against them. President Roosevelt has been condemned for choosing the former course. It is difficult to see how, with the war in progress, he could have done anything else. It was his purpose to hasten military victory and to maintain coöperation with the Russians as an essential element in building a new international security organization after the war. Should he have jeopardized this purpose by provoking a break with Russia over the latter's territorial demands on Finland and Rumania, countries which had joined Hitler and ravaged Soviet territory, when those demands were not as extreme as they might have been and were coupled with assurances that Finland and Rumania would retain their independence? As to Poland, the Curzon line, which Roosevelt accepted at Yalta, was not the fairest frontier but it was a reasonable one in many respects; it marked the eastward limit of the solidly Polish-populated area.
The return to Rumania of Transylvania "or the greater part thereof," as it was phrased in the armistice of September 1944, to which the United States was a party, was again a not unreasonable decision, since Rumania had held the province before the war. The United States would have liked to leave this question out of the armistice terms altogether, leaving the frontier settlement open, but the Russians were more concerned with immediate political and military advantage. Transylvania was the bait to hasten Rumania's surrender and to open the way into central Europe to the Red Army. The U. S. Joint Chiefs of Staff stressed the military importance of getting Rumania out of the war and hoped that political considerations would not delay Allied agreement on surrender terms. The State Department, which wanted neither to delay the surrender nor to break Allied unity, accepted the clause on Transylvania with the additional phrase "subject to confirmation at the peace settlement" suggested by Churchill, thus salvaging something of the policy of postponement.
A more important territorial change brought about by the Russians, and accepted by the United States, was the moving of Poland's western frontier to the Oder-Neisse line. The Yalta agreement had spoken of compensation to Poland in the west to balance the losses in the east, but nothing so drastic as this had been contemplated by the Americans. Such a solution not only created tremendous and immediate economic and social problems for the Allied administration of Germany; it also promised to be a source of trouble between Poland and Germany for the indefinite future. It may have served Russia's political ends, but it certainly did not serve the interests of Europe, of America, or even of Poland, which got more territory than it could digest and which it could hold only by leaning on Russia. Yet President Truman accepted this de facto frontier at Potsdam, when military necessity could no longer be given as a reason for such concessions. The Russians at Potsdam said that the area had already been turned over to the Poles, that the German population had fled, and that no other solution was possible. The Americans, in a poor bargaining position since they were unwilling to let the conference fail, settled for the additional provision that "the final delimitation of the western frontier of Poland should await the peace settlement." This the Russians, as in the case of Transylvania, interpreted to mean that the peace treaty would give formal sanction to the decision already taken, not that the question would be reopened. Their view seemed confirmed by subsequent American approval of the transfer to Germany of the Germans in the area taken over by Poland.
The preparations undertaken by the United States for the territorial settlements to be made after this war necessarily followed a different approach from those we made before the Peace Conference of 1919. The peacemakers after the First World War developed ethnic and historic arguments and modified them for reasons of strategy that looked toward security or general freedom of trade and access to the sea. Differences of opinion existed among the Allied and Associated Powers; but there was an underlying determination to make peace as quickly as possible, and it was politically feasible to accomplish the purpose. The United States after the Second World War had available the preferred solutions of the territorial subcommittee of the Department of State as approved by the Policy Committee of the Department. What it lacked was timely agreement on principles with other Powers. When the peace treaty negotiations finally began, in September 1945, no general approach to a European territorial settlement had been agreed upon by the major Allies. There were, in fact, few boundary questions left to decide. There was a line running through Europe dividing the Soviet sphere from that of the western Powers. As the treaty negotiations turned out to be a phase of the contest between east and west for power and influence, the most hotly contested territorial issues were those which involved the location of that line: the dispute over Venezia Giulia and the controversies involving the northern frontier of Greece. In the treatment of these issues, considerations of strategy, power and prestige were paramount. East of the dividing line the United States showed little inclination to tilt at windmills by pressing for "ethnic lines" and "fair solutions." In the west, too, where the few outstanding boundary disputes had been held over for the peace settlement, political opportunism marked American as well as Soviet policy.
The negotiation of a peace treaty for Italy, the first item on the agenda of the Council of Foreign Ministers, presented three territorial disputes. Two were already familiar, having plagued the Peace Conference of 1919 and remained acute ever since: Venezia Giulia and South Tyrol. The French added the third by demanding changes in the Franco-Italian frontier.
Even in Italy, where the Soviet armies were not in the picture, it did not prove easy to keep claimant states from taking what they wanted first and negotiating later. French troops crossed the Alps after the German collapse to occupy the Val d'Aosta and other districts in which France was interested; they were withdrawn only after repeated requests by the Allied Mediterranean Command. Venezia Giulia, where the United States had hoped to see Allied Military Government established under the terms of the Italian surrender, Tito's Partisans regarded as Jugoslav national territory. Prior to the German surrender the Americans and British saw that, if they were to avoid being faced with a fait accompli, they would have to occupy Venezia Giulia before Tito or else make a deal with him to share the occupation. They chose the latter course. In negotiating with Tito in February 1945, Field Marshal Alexander, anxious for operational military reasons to make sure of getting control of Trieste and the routes to Austria, compromised on the principle of holding the whole disputed area under AMG until the final territorial settlement.
But the area assigned to Jugoslav occupation, except the city of Fiume, was overwhelmingly Jugoslav in population and its ultimate disposition not seriously in dispute.
When the military break came at the end of April, the Jugoslavs not only occupied the area assigned to them but, proclaiming Jugoslavia's right to the whole of Venezia Giulia, raced for Trieste. The race ended in a tie when New Zealand troops and Tito's forces arrived at Trieste at about the same time. The western Powers decided to hold firm. The State Department announced its conviction that no territorial problem could be solved "by proclamations issued in the wake of an army on the march." Given a virtual ultimatum to get out of Trieste, Tito withdrew. But he managed to hold most of the rest of Venezia Giulia. The so-called Morgan line, which was agreed upon as the dividing line between the zone under AMG and the zone of Jugoslav occupation, left the Istrian Peninsula in Jugoslav hands. The Allies held only a narrow and much smaller area though it included the more important cities: Trieste, Gorizia and, in an isolated enclave, the port of Pola. As an interim régime pending the final territorial settlement, this de facto partition gave promise only of making that settlement difficult if not impossible. The situation called for a rapid decision on a permanent frontier, but this was a decision which the Council of Foreign Ministers, reflecting the Great Power rivalry behind the local dispute, found itself unable to make.
The American delegation came to London in September 1945, with a series of recommendations covering the territorial clauses of the Italian treaty. They reflected two currents of American policy. The first was the search for equitable solutions based on the will of the population concerned and on the factors making for long-term stability. The second, by this time much more noticeable than when territorial problems were under study during the war, was the desire to keep Italy in the American orbit. After the Balkans fell into Soviet hands and the Yalta agreements calling for a joint approach in eastern Europe broke down, Italy took on added significance as a part of the western democratic grouping. A harsh peace treaty which would play into the hands of Italian extremists might have a disastrous effect on the Anglo-American position in Italy and the Mediterranean. The United States wanted a treaty which a democratic Italy could accept. The American proposals put forward at London, accordingly, would have left Italy's frontiers with France and Austria intact, except for possible "minor rectifications," and would have placed the northeastern frontier in the neighborhood of the Wilson line of 1919.
The Franco-Italian frontier, the least important of the three disputes, took many months to settle and was allowed to exacerbate relations between France and Italy and among the Great Powers. The French, after entertaining more ambitious ideas, put in detailed demands in February 1946 for minor rectifications, in accordance with a Council decision which had accepted the American proposal on this point. The demands were, indeed, modest. Only mountain peaks and bits of pasture land were involved in claims to Petit Saint Bernard, Mont Cenis, Mont Thabor and Chaberton. The Mont Cenis claim was for strategic territory on the Italian site of the crest of the Alps. At Mont Thabor the French object was a road connection between Briançon and Modane; at Chaberton it was to deprive Italy of a fortified position dominating Briançon. Only the demand for the Alpine towns of Briga and Tenda involved a resident population, some 5,000. It was unfortunate that the claims were made at all, as these areas had little importance and this had been a stable frontier since its establishment in 1861. The French apparently felt that they had to have something to show for being on the winning side; and this was the area where Fascist Italy, after setting up a clamor for Nice and Savoy, had delivered the "stab in the back" in 1940.
The matter could have been settled fairly quickly, but the western Powers, disturbed by the outcry it evoked in Italy and fearful of the cumulative effect on Italian opinion of territorial losses, military and naval limitations, and severe economic clauses, held up their approval to the cession of Briga and Tenda; Washington hoped that France might see the light and give up the claim or come to a direct compromise agreement with Italy. The Soviet Union also withheld its consent, trying to induce France to pay a price in the form of support of the Soviet position on other clauses. At the first Paris meeting of the Council of Foreign Ministers, in April and May 1946, the approach of general elections in both France and Italy was another factor making for postponement; none of the Powers wanted to provide its opponents with a campaign issue. Meanwhile the Council decided to apply some of the techniques of the 1919 peace settlement. It sent a commission on a flying visit to Briga and Tenda to ascertain the wishes of the population and to look into the question of the use of the hydroelectric power generated in the area.
The commission's report stated that the people spoke a dialect akin to those on both sides of the frontier and were not strongly or unanimously in favor either of France or of Italy; they seemed most interested in being able to trade with both. The Council's hydroelectric experts then worked out a scheme whereby the area's power would continue to be available to Italy in the event of its cession to France. By the time the Council met in its second Paris session on June 15, the United States and Britain were ready to agree to the French claim so long as the treaty safeguarded Italy's interest in power generated in former Italian plants and the use by Italy of water from rivers flowing toward Italy from the ceded territory. Mr. Molotov held off until the end of June, then agreed. The long delay had served to exasperate the French and to stir up a good deal of bad feeling on all sides. In the end, the United States got no credit in France for an understanding attitude and certainly got none in Italy by approving the demands after holding out hope that they might be modified or rejected.
In contrast to the attention given to ascertaining the wishes of the population of Briga and Tenda and to the economic aspects of that transfer, the Council's treatment of the more important question of South Tyrol was casual in the extreme. In the State Department there had been a difference of opinion between those who favored the Austrian claim and those who felt that the greater importance of Italy for the American position in Europe was the decisive consideration. At the time of the London meeting of the Council in September 1945, this latter view held the ascendancy. The official American proposal stated that there should be no change in the prewar frontier, "subject to hearing any case Austria may present for minor rectifications in her favor." This proposal was accepted by the three other Powers without any discussion at all, a rather strange procedure in view of the history and importance of this problem, the justice of the Austrian case on ethnic grounds, and the fact that the phrase "minor rectifications," in this Alpine country where the frontiers ran along mountain crests and the entire population lived in three main valleys, obviously required interpretation.
This September decision haunted all subsequent treatment of the subject. The British and, to a lesser extent, the Americans began to feel that the Austrian case had been too summarily disposed of, although in shifting the province of Bolzano from AMG to Italian administration they seemed to regard the frontier question as closed. The Austrian Government never ceased reminding them that the return of South Tyrol would boost tremendously Austria's will and ability to survive as an independent nation. According to AMG figures for 1945, the area was still predominantly German-speaking despite the influx of Italians since 1919 and the departure of 75,000 to 100,000 Germans following the Hitler-Mussolini agreement of 1939 on option and transfer; some of these had returned and others were waiting to return. The Russians, for their part, saw no reason to do anything for Austria, especially after the election of November 1945 in which the Communists were badly defeated. The Soviet delegates on the Council stated, time and again, that the Austrian claim was not for a minor rectification, and refused to discuss it. Since it encompassed the whole of the province of Bolzano and a bit more, going even beyond the linguistic frontier which was roughly the boundary of that province, it was plainly not "minor." But it was hardly fair to rule out all discussion of the South Tyrol simply because the Austrians, unaware of the September decision, had claimed a large area instead of a small one. The Soviet refusal to let the Council inform Vienna of the September decision or to discuss the possibility of defining what, on the map, would be a minor rectification held up all discussion on the subject for months.
Finally, between the May and June sessions of the Council, Foreign Minister Gruber was invited to appear before the Deputies to present Austria's claim to minor rectifications. Without waiving the claim to all South Tyrol, he urged cession of the Brenner Pass and the Pusterthal, pointing to Austria's need of a direct connection, by this route, between north Tyrol and east Tyrol. He offered to guarantee to Italy special rights in the control and use of the power installations in the claimed area. The Council then put its hydroelectric experts to work again. Their report stressed the importance to Italy of the power plants, especially the big station at Bressanone, and resources. Mr. Bevin, indicating that he was impressed with these economic factors, cast his vote against any change in the frontier. The United States quickly agreed. The Russians had never favored a change, and the French were indifferent. Thus the decision was taken, in June 1946, to leave to Italy the Brenner Pass, the power station and the German-speaking population of South Tyrol.
The Foreign Ministers inserted in the draft treaty a clause providing for freedom of transit for Austria on the Pusterthal route. They did nothing about providing minority rights for the German-speaking inhabitants of South Tyrol. If the Great Powers did not realize that that was the main problem, Austria and Italy did. Gruber and de Gasperi negotiated a bilateral agreement which assured to the German-speaking inhabitants of Bolzano province and of the neighboring bilingual communes of Trento province "complete equality of rights with the Italian-speaking inhabitants, within the framework of special provisions to safeguard (their) ethnic character and (their) cultural and economic development." This agreement, which also promised an autonomous local legislature, was hailed by the British and American Governments as a great act of statesmanship, perhaps because they had a bad conscience over their own failure to meet the problem in drafting the Italian treaty. Their proposal that it be incorporated in the treaty was adopted at the Paris Conference, over the objections of Russia and her satellites, and was finally accepted by the Russians at the later meeting of the Big Four in New York.
One reason why the United States favored Italy over Austria in the South Tyrol question lay in the knowledge that Italy would find it hard to swallow its new frontier with Jugoslavia. Austria had no powerful defender among the Big Four. Jugoslavia did. Soviet support of Jugoslav claims to the whole of Venezia Giulia made it most unlikely that Italy could get as favorable a frontier as the Wilson line, which the Italy of 1919 had scorned. Much of the Council's discussion on Venezia Giulia was in terms of the "ethnic line." The Council decided in September 1945 that the frontier should follow the ethnic line "in the main," and that Trieste should have an international free port régime. But neither side in the controversy, in view of the decisions on the South Tyrol and other territories in which no heed was paid to the ethnic principle, was justified in taking a high moral stand on this argument. In practice the term proved its elasticity. The Jugoslavs and Russians found an ethnic line which from the Austro-Italian frontier at Pontebba ran southward to the sea at the mouth of the Isonzo; some half million Italians living to the east of that line were mere "ethnic islands." The Americans drew their ethnic line in the neighborhood of the old Wilson line, somewhat more favorable to Jugoslavia in the north and to Italy in the south; it would have left three to four times as many Jugoslavs in Italy as Italians in Jugoslavia.
The commission of experts, which visited the disputed area in March and April of 1946, based its findings on the last reliable census, that taken by Austria in 1910, and on its own observations and interviews in five cities and twenty-seven towns and villages. It was hardly expected that the experts would be able to agree on a recommendation for the final frontier. The investigation did nothing to bring the opposing views closer together. It is to the credit of the American member, however, that he obtained Soviet agreement to the factual report, which tended to support the American, British and French recommendations and showed up the Soviet recommendation as a glaring departure from the London decision. The Soviet line, even using 1910 figures, would have left 460,000 Italians in Jugoslavia and no Jugoslavs in Italy. The American line, which now ran well to the west of the Wilson line except at the extreme southern end where the Arsa coal mines were left on the Italian side, stretched a point or two in Italy's favor; east of it the Jugoslavs would outnumber the Italians 300,000 to 52,000 (including those in Fiume and Zara), and west of it the Italians would outnumber the Jugoslavs 383,000 to 191,000. Population figures compiled by AMG in 1945 indicated a much higher proportion of Italians west of the line: 492,000 to 143,000. The British line, which split Istria into roughly equal western and eastern parts, and the French line, which curved southwest to the sea below Trieste, divided the two minorities more evenly without changing substantially the number which would be left under alien rule. The French line left 115,000 Jugoslavs in Italy and 130,000 Italians in Jugoslavia (1910 figures).
Secretary Byrnes, at the first Paris meeting of the Council, defended the American line, then indicated his willingness to accept the British or French lines as a compromise. He thus put the United States on more solid ground with respect to the London decision of the previous September. Lines roughly similar to those proposed by the British and French had in fact been given serious consideration in Washington as possible compromises even before the London meeting; but there was never any idea of conceding anything further to Jugoslavia, or of depriving Italy of Trieste. Mr. Molotov, however, did not concern himself either with the London decision or with the facts reported by the commission. He supported the Jugoslav claim on the grounds that Venezia Giulia was an indivisible body which could not be cut in two; its general ethnic character was Jugoslav, therefore it should go to the heroic ally, Jugoslavia, not to the defeated enemy which had used it as a base for aggression. In an attempt to break the deadlock Mr. Byrnes, apparently on the advice of Senator Vandenberg, came forward with a proposal for a plebiscite in the area between the American and Soviet lines. This was the one occasion when this Wilsonian device was proposed by one of the Big Four in connection with the European territorial settlement. It would have been hard to find an area where it would be more difficult to apply and more unlikely to lead to an agreed solution. Conditions in Venezia Giulia were already conducive to unrest and violence. A campaign and plebiscite would have invited more intense feelings and increased violence. Probably it would have been more difficult to agree on how to hold a plebiscite and how to draw a frontier on the basis of its results than to agree on an ethnic line without benefit of the voice of the people. When the other delegations received the proposal with skepticism, it was quietly dropped.
By the end of the first Paris session of the Council, Trieste had become the leading international issue between east and west. Much was made in the press of the strategic factor and of the respective fears that in Jugoslav hands Trieste would be a Russian outpost on the Adriatic, in Italian hands an Anglo-American base for intervention in central Europe and the Balkans. This was probably less important as an obstacle to agreement than the factor of prestige. The Soviet Union had promised Trieste to Tito. If it failed to make good on its promise, its position, and that of the Communists throughout Europe, would suffer. The western Powers had decided, at Trieste, to call a halt to the expansion of Soviet power. Should they give in, their influence in western Europe, in France as well as Italy, would be gravely weakened. Neither side was willing to let the other have Trieste. The only possible solution, unless the treaty negotiations were to be abandoned and the Morgan line retained indefinitely, was one which would deny Trieste to both sides. Out of this situation came the Free Territory of Trieste.
When the Council reconvened in mid-June 1946, M. Bidault cautiously put forward the idea of an internationalized Trieste. Mr. Molotov took it up and circulated a map showing an international city entirely surrounded by Jugoslav territory. When this was instantly rejected, he fell back rapidly to a line including some of the suburbs, then to the Morgan line, with no greater success. M. Bidault, possibly in accordance with a prearranged plan, at this point suggested the compromise which eventually found its way into the treaty: the French line would be the western frontier of Jugoslavia; from the Austrian border to a point north of the coastal village of Duino it would also be the frontier of Italy; from the latter point to its southern terminus it would bound the new free territory of Trieste, which would have a narrow territorial link with Italy. The Russians, in accepting, let Tarvisio, Gorizia and Monfalcone go to Italy and gave up the Jugoslav claim to Trieste. The western Powers let all but a corner of Istria, with its considerable Italian population in the coastal towns, go to Jugoslavia, and they failed to save Trieste for Italy.
Italy and Jugoslavia both regarded this settlement as a national disaster. Many of the smaller nations called to the Paris Conference to discuss the draft treaties did not like it either. The Soviet satellites backed the original Jugoslav claim to Trieste; some of the other nations proposed enlarging the Free Territory to include a greater part of Istria. The Big Four themselves did not like the solution they had adopted, but they knew they could agree on no other. Knowing that also, the smaller nations at the Paris Conference saw the futility of trying to change it. Even Jugoslavia and Italy, after swearing to high heaven that they could never accept it, signed when the time came.
It would be unwise to condemn the Trieste settlement too hastily, unfair and unworkable as it appears to be. A fairer settlement might have proved equally unworkable. In Trieste, which depends on traffic to and from central Europe for its prosperity, a free port régime was established by the treaty in accordance with the London decision, but the city may well be doomed to decay no matter what the treaty provisions say. The settlement is also open to criticism in that it denies self-determination to the Italians of Trieste. It does, however, give the Free Territory a measure of self-government under the Statute. The Italians left in the area ceded to Jugoslavia, and Jugoslavs in Italy, are given the right to opt for Italian and Jugoslav citizenship respectively, and are guaranteed specified human rights if they are permitted to remain. Probably no boundary settlement between Italy and Jugoslavia, in the existing state of relations between those nations and among the Great Powers, would have any assurance of stability. If the Powers wish to make it work, they can do so. The history of the treaty negotiations offers little ground for optimism.
The Rumanian treaty, first of the Balkan treaties to be taken up by the Council, presented no such critical problems as Trieste. Rumania's boundaries were settled before the negotiations began, though the frontier with Hungary was "subject to confirmation." The only question raised concerning southern Dobruja was whether its cession to Bulgaria, which took place in 1940 on Hitler's instigation and to the accompaniment of applause from Moscow, should be confirmed by the peace treaty. Rumania itself made no demand for its return. Bessarabia and northern Bukovina, having been handed over to the Soviet Union under the armistice terms, represented another historic territorial dispute which the Rumanian Government, now under the Soviet thumb, chose not to raise. From the prewar ethnic maps which Rumania submitted in order to show the Rumanian character of Transylvania, these lost provinces had been carefully expunged lest someone be reminded of the Rumanian character of the greater part of Bessarabia, now the Moldavian S.S.R.
Curious tactics on the part of the Soviet delegation raised American and British suspicions that the Soviet Union might be preparing to go beyond the line of 1940. Tsarist Russia, a century before, had followed its conquest of Bessarabia by taking over the mouths of the Danube. Soviet Russia, after seizing Bessarabia in 1940, had occupied several islands in the river over Rumania's protest. In 1945 there were rumors that the Soviets had established frontier posts across the Danube, on the Rumanian side. The possibility that the Soviet Union wanted sovereign control over the only navigable (Sulina) branch of the Danube mouth and might eventually seek a territorial union with Bulgaria across the narrow Dobruja territory was not overlooked. The Soviet chairman of the Allied Control Commission in Bucharest had refused permission to the American member, General Schuyler, to visit the area, on the ground that it was under the jurisdiction not of the Commission but of the Soviet High Command. Meanwhile, in the Council of Foreign Ministers, the Soviet delegation dropped its former proposal that the restoration of the 1940 boundary should be mentioned in the peace treaty and resisted the demand of the western Powers that Rumania's frontiers be precisely defined in the treaty, either descriptively or on an annexed map. The British and Americans said that they were not challenging the frontier; they just wanted to know where it was. The so-called "agreement" of June 28, 1940, which had been published only in the form of the text of the Soviet ultimatum and a small-scale map in Izvestia, was anything but precise. Whatever the intentions of the Soviet leaders may have been, they finally gave in and produced a map to be annexed to the treaty. The line on the map followed the historic frontier of Bessarabia: the Prut, the Danube, and the northern arm of the Danube mouth. The western Powers thus succeeded in nailing the Russians down to recognition of a specific line. They might overstep it later, of course, but not without a violation, or agreed revision, of the peace treaty.
The only real territorial dispute in the Rumanian treaty concerned Transylvania. The Soviets came out flatly for the confirmation of Rumania's title to the entire province. They had installed a docile régime in Bucharest and presented to it, with great fanfare, the northern part of Transylvania which had been "awarded" to Hungary by Hitler and Mussolini in 1940, conquered by Soviet and Rumanian forces in the autumn of 1944, and placed under Soviet military government from then until March 1945. Soviet representatives in Budapest did not hesitate to talk of the possibility of doing something to meet Hungary's desires, but at London and Paris the Soviet delegation never changed its position of full support for Rumania. The fact that Rumania's Communist-dominated Government needed a popular national issue such as this to win support, while a failure to get any satisfaction on Transylvania would weaken the majority Smallholders Party in Hungary, was reason enough for the Soviet attitude. Should the political situation in the two countries change at some later date, that attitude might be changed accordingly. The Russians, like Hitler, were in a position to use the Transylvanian question as a means of keeping both Hungary and Rumania in line.
Study of the Transylvanian problem in Washington during the war led to the conclusion that it was insoluble so long as extreme nationalism guided the conduct of governments and national minorities in the Danubian area. No boundary change would help matters much, since the largest Hungarian bloc, some 450,000 Szeklers, lived in the eastern corner of Transylvania far from the Hungarian border. A territorial change might divide the respective minorities more evenly between Hungary and Rumania. That had already been tried under Hitler's Vienna Award, which had returned almost one million Magyars to Hungary but had transferred an even greater number of Rumanians along with them; it had proved anything but a fair and stable solution. A large-scale compulsory exchange of populations might create an ethnic line where none existed before, but it might also create more problems than it solved. The United States was not prepared to advocate a drastic solution of this sort, nor did it see much practical value in the idea of an independent Transylvania.
Without pretending to advocate a fundamental solution of the Transylvanian problem, the United States took the position that comparatively modest changes in the prewar boundary, returning to Hungary some solidly Magyar-populated cities and districts, might provide a basis for better relations between the two countries. At London in September 1945 Mr. Byrnes suggested that this possibility be studied. Neither the Soviets nor the British showed any enthusiasm. The latter felt that a change in the frontier would only exasperate Rumania without really satisfying Hungary and would harm rather than benefit Britain's position in eastern Europe. The United States had then to decide whether to press for revision or to let the matter drop. Since the population statistics indicated that a line drawn with the purpose of transferring a maximum of Magyars and a minimum of Rumanians to Hungary, without regard to geographic and economic considerations, would not reduce the number under alien rule by more than 150,000, it was decided to accept the old boundary if the treaty contained a further provision pledging the signatories "to recognize any rectification which might subsequently be mutually agreed between Hungary and Rumania and which would substantially reduce the number of persons living under alien rule." The idea was to indicate recognition of the fact that restoration of the Trianon frontier was not the final answer to the Transylvanian problem. When the question came before the Council of Foreign Ministers in May 1946, Mr. Byrnes dropped even this proviso. With so many clauses in the four treaties in dispute between the United States and the Soviet Union, this one did not seem worth arguing about any longer. Unfortunately, the decision to restore all of Transylvania to Rumania was taken without even giving Hungary a hearing, a circumstance which added to the resentment and disappointment felt in that country.
Both Hungarians and Rumanians came to the Paris Conference in July armed with maps, statistics and historical arguments, but the decision of the Council of Foreign Ministers had already settled the question. The Great Powers were committed to support that decision at the conference and did so, although the American delegation took the opportunity to point out how it had been reached and was pleased to see the Australians propose that the conference really look into the facts and see if a fairer ethnic frontier might be found. The Hungarians, invited to present their views, first claimed a wide belt of territory, about 7,700 square miles, containing more Rumanians than Hungarians, then reduced their demands to smaller areas on the border including the largely Hungarian cities of Szatmár (Satu-Mare), Nagyvárad (Oradea Mare), and Arad. But even here the population of roughly 500,000 was less than two-thirds Hungarian, and the economic arguments were mostly on the Rumanian side. The Australian proposal evoked very little support, and the conference, in plenary session, finally accepted the prewar frontier without a dissenting vote.
Hungary's other major territorial dispute, with Czechoslovakia, was not discussed by the Council of Foreign Ministers prior to the Paris Conference. Being a defeated enemy, Hungary was hardly in a position to make territorial claims on an Allied state, but the Czechs themselves opened up the question by demanding five Hungarian towns opposite Bratislava to enlarge their bridgehead on the right bank of the Danube, and by seeking international sanction for their plan to transfer 200,000 of their Magyar minority to Hungary. About 100,000 others were expected to be exchanged on a voluntary basis in accordance with a bilateral agreement signed the preceding February, and the remainder (approximately 200,000 by Czechoslovak and 350,000 by Hungarian estimates) would be "re-Slovakized." Once Czechoslovakia began to talk about getting rid of its Hungarian population, in order to make Czechoslovakia a homogeneous national state, Hungarian spokesmen took the occasion to point out that the easiest way to dispose of the Hungarian minority was to dispose also of the land on which it lived.
The American delegation at Paris was not at all in sympathy with the Czechoslovak desire to uproot and expel 200,000 persons but was willing to consider it in connection with a possible general settlement of Czechoslovak-Hungarian differences. In meetings of the Deputies of the Big Four, held at the time of the Paris Conference, American representatives urged that the Great Powers jointly help the Czechs and Hungarians to work out a settlement based on mutual concessions on which stable and friendly relations could be built. An exchange of territory satisfying Czechoslovakia's desire for additional territory opposite Bratislava and giving Hungary a portion of the overwhelmingly Hungarian-populated territory adjacent to the frontier would reduce the scope of the population transfer. Even a token gain of territory would enable Hungary to accept more easily the forced migration of thousands of Hungarians from Czechoslovakia. A statesmanlike solution of the problem was possible if the Great Powers could have agreed on its essentials. Hungary, naturally, was eager to make such a deal, but, without the coöperation of the Soviet Union, American or British suggestions to Czechoslovakia could have no effect. The Czechs, sensing the situation, chose to have their claims heard and judged by the conference rather than to make a backstage bargain with Hungary involving the cession of Czechoslovak territory. Understandably, they resented the idea of treating Hungary as an equal. "Who won this war," asked Jan Masaryk in one of his speeches to the conference, "the United Nations or Hungary?"
When the conference took up the Czechoslovak demands for the Bratislava bridgehead and for the transfer of 200,000 Hungarians, American efforts were devoted to a search for compromise solutions. The final decisions, accepted by Czechoslovakia and unanimously adopted by the conference, represented a reduction of the territorial claim and a postponement of the question of population transfer. Czechoslovakia was given three villages opposite Bratislava instead of five, and Hungary was obliged to enter into negotiations with Czechoslovakia to "solve the problem" of the latter's inhabitants of Magyar origin. The United States regarded direct negotiations, on the model of those undertaken by Austria and Italy on the South Tyrol, as a fruitful approach to more equitable and durable settlements of the outstanding differences between Hungary and her neighbors over territorial and minority questions. In a sense it was an evasion of responsibility for the Powers charged with negotiating peace treaties to turn over the tough problems to the parties least likely to agree on solutions. There was little possibility that Hungary and Czechoslovakia would reach a settlement. Yet if they did, it would have greater prospect of permanence than a decision imposed on one or both of them. The treaty clause, as finally drafted, took account of the likelihood of failure. Should no agreement be reached within six months of the coming into force of the treaty, Czechoslovakia has the right to bring the question before the Council of Foreign Ministers and request its assistance in effecting a final solution.
The Hungarian delegates at the Paris Conference, who represented a government which included Communists but had not yet been brought under Communist control, wanted a peace treaty which would give Hungary some chance to maintain political and economic independence. They tried desperately to get western support for territorial gains and for provisions protecting the rights of Magyar minorities in surrounding states. In their view a treaty without some satisfaction on these points would be a national disaster "worse than Trianon," which the pro-western, democratic elements which then had a majority in the government could not be expected to survive. The American delegation, aware of that situation, did what it could to hold open the possibility of frontier rectifications where purely Hungarian towns and districts were involved; it sympathized with the Hungarian concern over the persecution of Magyars in neighboring countries, but believed that this was a matter for the United Nations to deal with under agreements for the protection of human rights, not for the peace treaties; the old minorities treaties had not proved a conspicuous success, as the Hungarians themselves had had occasion to learn. In general, the United States sought fair terms for Hungary, but it did not want to place itself in the position of Hungary's champion against Allied nations. American relations with Czechoslovakia had to be considered. Furthermore, Hungary's record as a junior partner of the Axis, both before and during the war, hardly entitled her to over-sympathetic treatment at the peace settlement. That was the main reason why the Hungarians, despite the validity of many of the arguments they presented, found so few friends at Paris, even among the democratic nations outside the Soviet bloc.
The draft treaty for Bulgaria submitted to the Paris Conference, like that for Hungary, contained one territorial clause on which the Great Powers had reached a tentative agreement to maintain the existing frontier but indicated a willingness to consider the views of the interested states, Greece and Bulgaria. This was more than an old and bitter Balkan boundary dispute. It involved the frontier between the eastern and western blocs.
Greece, which still had the large appetite for territory it had displayed in 1919, claimed a broad band of territory in southern Bulgaria as necessary to protect its northern provinces, invaded three times within a generation. As a companion claim, the Greeks demanded northern Epirus from Albania and would have liked to round out a new strategic frontier by adding Jugoslav territory as well but did not think it wise to put forward claims against another Allied state. Bulgaria countered by asking for western Thrace, the area between the Mesta and Maritza rivers, on the grounds that this outlet to the Aegean had been wrongfully taken from Bulgaria in the past. This claim by an enemy state to territory occupied with Hitler's help during the war certainly would not have been made without Soviet prompting. The Jugoslav delegation completed the picture by introducing the Macedonian question in its new form, affirming the right of the new Macedonian Peoples Republic, a part of Jugoslavia, to Greek Macedonia and the port of Saloniki.
There was little or no justification for any of these claims on ethnic grounds. There were virtually no Greeks among the 380,000 inhabitants of the area claimed from Bulgaria and no more than 40,000, by impartial estimates, in northern Epirus. Greek Macedonia and western Thrace, since the exchanges of population in the 1920's, were overwhelmingly Greek. The most sensible solution would have been to throw out all the claims and retain the existing frontiers. The atmosphere at Paris did not favor a sensible solution. The Soviets and their supporters bitterly assailed the Greek Government and came out with statements that the Bulgarian claim was justified, while Britain proposed to back the Greeks in order to strengthen the Greek Government against attacks from the left. The American delegation, because of the tense situation in Greece and the importance of keeping that country out of the Soviet orbit, was reluctant to let the Greeks down even though it regarded the acquisition of a few mountain passes and a large indigestible bloc of alien population as a poor way to seek security. A certain amount of pressure from Greek-American and Philhellene groups in the United States made it more difficult to dismiss the Greek demands out of hand. On the day the Paris Conference opened the United States Senate, with a lordly disregard for the merits of the case, had passed unanimously a resolution supporting the Greek claims to northern Epirus.
One by one, however, the conference disposed of the claims and counterclaims. The Greek case against Albania was not discussed, since the conference had met only to deal with the five peace treaties. The Council of Foreign Ministers, whose original terms of reference included "territorial questions outstanding on the termination of the war in Europe," could have taken it up, but Molotov had already vetoed discussion of it there. When the oratory was over, the Bulgarian claim to western Thrace was then quietly dropped by the Russians, an indication that they would settle for agreement on the prewar Greek-Bulgarian frontier. The Jugoslavs said nothing further about their rights to Greek Macedonia. The United States, after having given the Greeks a good deal of encouragement without any definite commitments, came out against any territorial change and proposed as a substitute, to satisfy the Greek desire for security, the demilitarization of the Bulgarian side of the border. This latter proposal was adopted, over Soviet objection, but in a surprising revolt the British Dominions and smaller western nations refused to accept the view that Greece should get no territory. Twelve nations out of 21 abstained when it came to a vote. Greece, in their eyes, had played a heroic part in the war. The repeated insulting attacks by Soviet spokesmen had had the effect of rallying them to her support. Though not voting in favor of the Greek claims, they refused to vote against them. Thus the question went back to the Council of Foreign Ministers without a recommendation by the conference.
Mr. Bevin, at the subsequent meeting of the Council in New York, made a last attempt to save something of the original Greek claim. He proposed a few small modifications of the frontier which would improve Greece's defensive position. Mr. Byrnes gave him no support and Mr. Molotov remained firm; the latter did, however, agree to the non-fortification of the Bulgarian side of the frontier. The final treaty left Greece and Bulgaria facing each other across their prewar boundary, to the Greeks a symbol of insecurity, to the Bulgarians a symbol of their thwarted desire for an outlet to the Aegean Sea.
Bulgaria's frontier with Jugoslavia was left intact. Here there was no controversy, merely a spate of talk about brotherly relations between the two Slav nations. If anything is to be done about the Macedonian issue, which troubled Serb-Bulgarian and Jugoslav-Bulgarian relations for so many years, it will be done under Soviet auspices, possibly through the union of Bulgarian with Jugoslav Macedonia as a step in the making of a South Slav union "from Villach to Varna."
With the conclusion of the five minor peace treaties, the postwar map of Europe is nearly completed. Germany and Austria still cannot be shown within their final treaty frontiers, but no great changes are likely. The French proposal for separating the Rhineland and the Ruhr from Germany, opposed by the United States, Britain and Russia, has no chance of acceptance. The American attempt to supplant the Oder-Neisse line drawn at Potsdam with a permanent frontier further to the east has little chance of success so long as the Poles stand their ground and the Russians back them up. The Jugoslav claim to Carinthia, the one territorial problem of the Austrian treaty, has been supported only by the Soviets, who in this case are not in a position to hand over the disputed area to their clients. Little reason exists for changing a frontier which was fixed after a plebiscite in Carinthia in 1920 and which runs along a high mountain barrier. Austria, moreover, can scarcely be expected to exist as an independent state if confined to an area even smaller than that which it had before the Anschluss.
The new territorial settlement is open to serious criticism. It leaves intact many of the 1919 frontiers which, on the basis of experience, should have been changed, and it establishes others which go far beyond any of the more cynical decisions of 1919. The Paris Peace Conference produced nothing like the Potsdam decision on eastern Germany and its corollary of the mass expulsion of some 9,000,000 Germans from their homes. Perhaps American statesmanship and diplomacy did not adequately meet the challenge which these problems posed. But no diplomacy could alter the fact that the Soviet Union had become the strongest power on the Continent. In eastern Europe it was able to fix the frontiers where it liked. Elsewhere, as at Trieste, it was able to force the acceptance of unsatisfactory compromises. The United States had to accept these solutions or else give up the quest for peace through agreement among the major Powers.
The rôle of the Soviet Union in the peace settlement is what makes the picture so profoundly different from that of 1919. Territorial disputes have been important issues only in relation to the conflict between two great constellations of power. In eastern Europe the crucial question was not where the western frontier of the Soviet Union was to be fixed, but how far into Europe the zone of Soviet control would extend. Inside that zone it was of little importance whether the boundary between two Communist-dominated states followed the ethnic line or any other line. On the edge of the zone, it mattered little whether the frontiers fixed were equitable as between the states immediately concerned, so long as the main problem remained that of the expansion of Soviet power and the Anglo-American attempt to contain it. The decision on the Greek frontier was a reasonable one as between the claims and interests of Greece and Bulgaria, but since pressure on Greece continues, with the aim of capturing that country for the Soviet bloc or of pinching off its northern provinces, it remains the most unstable and dangerous frontier in the world. Of what value is any agreement on Trieste if the Russians and Jugoslavs do not accept it in good faith? Or again, of what importance is the location of Germany's eastern frontier if Germany itself is to remain split at the Elbe?
Although it had hopes, the United States really had no chance of bringing about, by diplomacy, the creation of a Europe such as American wartime planning envisaged, a Europe of relatively independent states coöperating under the higher law of a general international organization. The only settlement that proved possible was one which recognized the existing distribution of power. Mr. Byrnes had to accept compromises on territorial and other issues which did not conform to American hopes and American principles. But the Soviet leaders also were forced to make concessions. Mr. Byrnes negotiated a settlement which kept the way open to a general agreement with Russia, and at the same time he stood firm against Russian expansion into western Europe and the Mediterranean. Those were the crucial issues. Dissatisfaction over some of the territorial decisions is legitimate, but these decisions should be seen in their proper perspective. If Europe ever does attain stability, if some way is found to reconcile Soviet and American interests, if the United Nations organization develops into a going concern, then it should be possible for the world's statesmen to look again at the map of Europe and to make changes which are called for by the interests of the European peoples themselves.
[i] Isaiah Bowman, "The Strategy of Territorial Decisions," FOREIGN AFFAIRS, January 1946.
[ii]Cf. "Report to the President on the Results of the San Francisco Conference," Department of State Publication 2340, p. 20-31; also Hamilton Fish Armstrong, "Foreign Policy and Party Politics," Atlantic Monthly, April 1947, p. 56-64.