Woodrow Wilson and the World War | Page 4

truth to say that he is naturally suspicious of advisers unless he is certain that their basic point of view is the same as his own. This is quite different from saying that he wants only opinions that coincide with his own and that he immediately dispenses with advisers who disagree with him. Colonel House, for example, who for five years exerted constant influence on his policy, frequently advanced opinions quite at variance from those of the President, but such differences did not weaken House's influence inasmuch as Wilson felt that they were both starting from the same angle towards the same point. Prejudiced though he seemed to be against "financiers," Wilson took the opinions of Thomas W. Lamont at Paris, because the underlying object of both, the acquisition of a secure peace, was identical. It is true, however, that with the exception of Colonel House, Wilson's advisers have been in the main purveyors of facts rather than colleagues in the formation of policies. Wilson has generally been anxious to receive facts which might help him to build his policy, as will be attested by those who worked with him at Paris.[1] But he was less interested in the opinions of his advisers, especially when it came to principles and not details, for he decides principles for himself. In this sense his Cabinet was composed of subordinates rather than counselors. Such an attitude is, of course, characteristic of most modern executives and has been intensified by war conditions. The summary disregard of Lansing, shown by Wilson at Paris, was less striking than the snubbing of Balfour by Lloyd George, or the cold brutality with which Clemenceau treated the other French delegates.
[Footnote 1: Mr. Lamont says of the President at Paris: "I never saw a man more ready and anxious to consult than he.... President Wilson did not have a well-organized secretarial staff. He did far too much of the work himself, studying until late at night papers and documents that he should have largely delegated to some discreet aides. He was by all odds, the hardest worked man at the Conference; but the failure to delegate more of his work was not due to any inherent distrust that he had of men--and certainly not to any desire to 'run the whole show' himself--but simply to the lack of facility in knowing how to delegate work on a large scale. In execution we all have a blind spot in some part of our eye. President Wilson's was in his inability to use men; an inability, mind you, not a refusal. On the contrary, when any of us volunteered or insisted upon taking responsibility off his shoulders he was delighted."]
General conviction of Wilson's autocratic nature has been intensified by his choice of assistants, who have not as a rule enjoyed public confidence. He debarred himself from success in the matter of appointments, in the first place, by limiting his range of choice through unwillingness to have about him those who did not share his point of view. It is more epigrammatic than exact to say that he was the sole unit in the Government giving value to a row of ciphers, for his Cabinet, as a whole, was not composed of weak men. But the fact that the members of his Cabinet accepted implicitly his firm creed that the Cabinet ought to be an executive and not a political council, that it depended upon the President's policy, and that its main function should be merely to carry that policy into effect, gave to the public some justification for its belief that Wilson's was a "one-man" Government. This belief was further intensified by the President's extreme sensitiveness to hostile criticism, which more than anything else hindered frank interchange of opinion between himself and strong personalities. On more than one occasion he seemed to regard opposition as tantamount to personal hostility, an attitude which at times was not entirely unjustified. In the matter of minor appointments Wilson failed generally of success because he consistently refused to take a personal interest, leaving them to subordinates and admitting that political necessities must go far to determine the choice. Even in such an important problem as the appointment of the Peace Commission the President seems to have made his selection almost at haphazard. Many of his war appointments proved ultimately to be wise. But it is noteworthy that such men as Garfield, Baruch, and McCormick, who amply justified their choice, were appointed because Wilson knew personally their capacity and not because of previous success along special lines which would entitle them to public confidence.
The obstinacy of the President has become proverbial. The square chin, unconsciously protruded in argument, indicates definitely his capacity, as a British critic has put it, "to dig his toes in and hold on."