A Plateful

COMMONWEALTH

(British Commonwealth of Nations)

When the Scotch say that a man has his plate full, they mean that his capacity is taxed to the limit. James Ramsay MacDonald, Prime Minister and His Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, had his plate full last week.

It was common knowledge that the sluggish Anglo-Russian Conference (TiME, Apr. 28 et seq.) would one day be quickened into action and stir the world with "well, well's," or "I told you so's." First, news came that the negotiations had failed. The world said: "I told you so." Then Ramsay said: "This will never do." An understanding was patched up. The world said: "Well, well."

The reason for the collapse of negotiations was that the Russians were reported hostile to the surrendering of confiscated British property, while the British were just as hostile to the Russians' keeping it. At no time was it admitted, however, by the British Foreign Office that all hope was lost, a fact which suggested a little Scotch stratagem on the part of Premier MacDonald to force the hands of the Russians.

In truth, at this juncture, Premier MacDonald took the job of negotiating with the Russians away from his coadjutor, Undersecretary of State for Foreign Affairs Arthur Ponsonby, and looked after the matter himself, with the result that an agreement was reached on the day following that of the breach.

The agreement was contained in two treaties, a commercial treaty and a general treaty. The commercial treaty granted reciprocal most-favored-nation treatment; that is, that each country agreed to grant to the nationals of the other the same commercial privileges granted to any other nation. Diplomatic immunity was extended to cover consulates and trade commissions. One curious, self-contradictory clause was that the Soviet Government is to assume responsibility for the transactions of Soviet trade delegations which are to be subjected to British Law, but, "in view of the responsibility of these transactions, which is assumed by the Government of the union, neither it nor its representatives will be called upon to give security for complying with orders of courts."

The general treaty either annulled or confirmed all previous Anglo-Russian treaties; recognized the three-mile-limit of territorial waters; specified a fishing agreement; relegated to the stronghold of time all claims, counter-claims and debts relating to the period August, 1914, to February, 1924, when Soviet Russia was recognized by the British Government.

Two important articles in the general treaty need elucidation. The Soviet Government declined to withdraw its decree by which were repudiated the debts of Imperial Russia's Government, but it agreed to satisfy British bondholders in all cases where the Imperial Russian Government's guarantee had been given. The second question dealt with compensation to be awarded to British nationals. The Soviet Government promised to negotiate with British owners and incorporate the agreements reached into a treaty. The British Government then agreed to "recommend to Parliament to enable it to guarantee interest and sinking fund of a loan" to Soviet Russia.

Now, although Premier Ramsay is a political polyglot--that is, he can speak three political languages: Conservatism, Liberalism and Socialism--and is forced frequently to speak in a politically foreign tongue to quiet the so-called Tories or Liberals, he can at times speak with a 'decidedly Socialist accent. So, when ex-Premier George slashed the treaty as a thoroughly unbusinesslike agreement that left unsettled every single point in dispute between the two countries, the Prime Minister had to answer with a Socialist paraphrase of the Asquithian, "Wait and see."

But another storm arose--in fact, two storms. Some prying person discovered that the King's name was not mentioned in the treaties. Their legality was immediately questioned. Apparently, however, the legal advisers of the Foreign Office decided that this departure from precedent was justified by the fact that there is no head of Soviet Russia, and, therefore, to preserve balance in the treaties, King George was omitted. However, it seemed certain that the King must sign the treaties before they could become law. A writer in The Times, of London, said: "In any case, if even, by a further misfortune, these strange treaties should be ratified by Parliament, they would require ratification by the King before becoming law."

The other storm was when the House of Commons objected to allowing the Premier and his Under Secretary to sign a treaty without its sanction. To such presumptuousness Mr. MacDonald replied with spirit: "If one is engaged in very intricate negotiations, and then when they were finished it had to be 'Very well, good-day; nothing has been approved, nothing really has been settled,' nothing would be settled at all." He reminded the House that the treaties would be laid upon the table for 21 parliamentary days, and that the House would have an opportunity of amending them, passing them or rejecting them. "Is this not enough?" he inquired. The House thought so, and sustained the Premier against a motion for adjournment by 157 to 57 votes.

Ramsay MacDonald, now 58 years of age, is a curious man. His supporters say he has never changed, but he has. Once he used to wear a red necktie; he is not so fond of that color now.

He was a pacifist a tout outrance, as the French say. During the early days of the War he was the prime "conchie" (conscientious objector) of all Britain. His record during those days was anything but creditable, and he incurred the hatred of an enormous majority of his own class. But every man makes mistakes; no doubt Ramsay acknowledges his.

On the question of the Sudan, however, the Premier has shown that he has a fighting spirit. Recently, in the House, he warned the Egyptians that Britain would not tolerate any hostile action by Egypt or the Egyptians in the Sudan. Blunt words for a pacifist.

The King is a blunt man, too. He has a habit of pounding the table when he argues, and calling a spade a "b---- shovel," as the costers say. He once said, and allowed no secret to be made of it, that he would "rather talk to an intelligent navvy than to a dull duke."

He and Ramsay are the best of friends. Queen Mary is also very much attached to the Premier. Recently, at a State function, the King and Queen conversed with the Premier for so long that many guests were seen stifling their yawns.

Ramsay was for many years a close personal friend of the late Lord Morley (TIME, Oct. 1). Almost every Sunday that found MacDonald in "town" (London) also found him at Flowermead, Lord Morley's Wimbledon home. It is said that Ramsay acquired much of his political knowledge from "old John," as John Morley was known both before and after he accepted a Viscounty.

People distrusted MacDonald more because of his War record than anything else. But now the staunchest Conservatives have words of praise for him. Premier MacDonald is a great reader and a good writer. He has, by the way, the greatest private Socialist library in existence. He is also a not mediocre Art critic, into the bargain (TiME, July 21, ART). Iconoclast,* who is now known to be Mary Agnes Hamilton, has written a good biography of the Premier. Perhaps it is a little flattering, but not much.

The Labor Party's chances of existence seem rosy, thanks to the remarkable Premier. No longer is Gilbert and Sullivan's song true:

Every boy and every girl That's born into this world alive Is either a little Liberal Or else a little Conservative.

The Laborites have won their place in the sun.

*J. RAMSAY MACDONALD,THE MAN OF TOMORROW Q+conoclast --Thomas Seltzer ($2.50).