Public revulsion over the inhumane and ruthless use of submarines by our adversaries during the World War demanded that they be banished forever from the seas. With the passing of the years this demand has grown less and less insistent, but it is still heard; frequently in civilian circles, and even in the public press, the mere mention of submarines causes eyebrows to be raised in horror.
Why, then, do submarines continue to be built? Why have not these international outlaws been sent to a watery grave off soundings, and why have we not entered into a solemn pact never to lay another duct keel? The answer appears to be simple. Underneath the fervent protestations of humanism and altruism on the part of international diplomats there remains the basic knowledge that, after all, the submarine is a most effective instrument of warfare and, as such, not only has great value but can never be completely abolished.
The records of the naval conferences of the past fourteen years show that the consistent proponent of both the abolition and restriction of submersibles has always been Great Britain. While not intimating a lack of humanitarian motives (always uppermost in the debates on the subject) on the part of our Anglo-Saxon brothers, it is not amiss to recall that Britain knows full well the economic results of submarine warfare and keenly realizes that her geographical position renders her subject to the same rough treatment in any future wars. That her views are colored by this knowledge is probable.
Complete abolition of the submarine has never been attainable because of the consistent opposition of France. Realizing the impotency of her navy at the close of the World War, and taking to heart the lesson of the value of this weapon in a war on commerce, she plunged heavily in submarine construction as her best and cheapest means to a speedy recuperation of naval power. To France, fronting as she does on two seas, the sous-marin is much less of a threat than a promise.
The Japanese, too, have of recent years taken up the advocacy of the submarine and have ably backed up the French in their views on this subject. The reason for this is less apparent; Japan’s geographical position is closely analogous to Britain’s and it would seem that her insular status would place her at a great disadvantage in case of a strong submarine blockade. The only surmises which can be advanced by this writer are: (1) that having extended and consolidated her position on the Asiatic mainland, she expects, using her strong naval force, to keep open the Korean Straits, to be impervious to economic pressure from without; (2) that she desires a powerful submarine flotilla to break the necessarily long lines of maritime communication of any potential enemy.
While Italy has never taken a strong position on either side of this vital subject, she continues to build up a numerous and modern submarine force. In conjunction with a swift and powerful surface fleet and an effective air arm she is in a dominating position as regards control of the flow of shipping through close Mediterranean waters, and this fact is well understood by 11 Duce. That it proved of some concern to the British during the recent Ethiopian crisis is evident from press dispatches on the subject.
Reawakened Germany is, of course, fully alive to the value and the capabilities of the U-boat. Now that the Versailles Treaty has been, in part, safely abrogated she has already, according to recent advices, begun to rearm in considerable force with this weapon of proved worth. That the economic value of the submarine is understood by Germany goes without saying.
As regards our own stand, we have always energetically seconded the British proposals. With our long coast lines on two oceans and the Gulf, and with our many fine harbors and ports, we are undoubtedly more immune to the consequences of a submarine blockade than any other maritime power, so it would appear that our motives are honestly philanthropic and in keeping with our historical role of the Great Neutral in our advocacy of the freedom of the seas.
Considering the stand of the various powers for and against the submarine it appears that, primarily, and with the sole exception of the United States, their contentions have been dictated not by humanitarian motives alone but also by the susceptibility of each nation to the submarine as an economic weapon. It is, in other words, tacitly taken for granted that submarines will not be confined to their purely military r61es with purely military objectives, but will be used as in the late war to strike at the lifeblood of the enemy—his commerce.
Is such use of submarines legitimate? The obvious answer is yes, provided they conduct themselves in accordance with the recognized rules governing warfare. The London Treaty of 1930, with a view toward rendering this type of vessel more innocuous to commerce, considered this subject at length and made the obvious reply; the signatories (Great Britain, Japan, and ourselves) decided to circumscribe the activities of the submarine by requiring it to conform to all the rules governing surface vessels. This requirement was adopted without time limit and is hence just as binding today as it was prior to the expiration of the main part of the treaty. The wording is as follows:
Article XXII.—The following are accepted as established rules of international law:
(I) In their action with regard to merchant ships, submarines must conform to the rules of international law to which surface vessels are subject.
(II) In particular, except in case of persistent refusal to stop on being duly summoned, or of active resistance to visit or search, a warship, whether surface vessel or submarine boat, may not sink or render incapable of navigation a merchant vessel without having first placed passengers, crew, and ship’s papers in a place of safety. For this purpose the ship’s boats are not regarded as a place of safety unless the safety of the passengers and crew is assured, in the existing sea and weather conditions, by the proximity of land or the presence of another vessel which is in a position to take them on board.
The high contracting parties invite all other powers to express their assent to the above rules.
Theoretically these limitations on the use of submarines are sound and proper. Practically, however, they reduce the under-sea effectiveness against shipping to almost nil.
Consider the situation of a perplexed submarine captain on station in the enemy’s shipping lanes with orders to break up its sea-borne traffic, but to conform to the mandates of the London Treaty in doing it. A merchant ship is sighted hull down (only 5 or 6 miles away from the low bridge of a submarine) and standing toward him. His job is to stop the ship, board her, determine her enemy or neutral character and the nature and destination of her cargo. To begin with, how will he stop her? There is a strong possibility that she is enemy and is armed, so that she must be approached with caution. The captain knows only too well that most armed merchant vessels will outrange his own pea shooter, and he is likewise aware that one shell hole is a much more serious matter to a submarine than to a surface ship. If she be an enemy there is a big chance that he will first learn of this fact when he descries the flash of her guns. For there is no rule to protect the submarine, no rule to prevent the merchant ship from arming or even from concealing her guns, or from flying false colors; in fact, such practice is frequently condoned.
Should, then, the captain approach his quarry on the surface, or submerged? If he elects the former, and with a surface speed of 16 or more knots, he can at least be fairly certain that the usual cargo vessel will not run away from him. A flag signal, or a shot across her bows, would, if she were harmless, probably stop her; but her inability to blow him out of the water at short range would never be definitely determined until his boarding party was actually on her deck.
In case the captain believes discretion to be the better part of valor and decides to approach submerged he is confronted with still more difficulties. How will he summon her to stop? Flag hoists and guns are out of the question. Under-water signaling may eventually reach a state of perfection and come into sufficient general usage to be effective for this purpose, but that day appears to be far in the future. There is, however, the smoke bomb, and it is readily conceivable that a belligerent might, with propriety, promulgate due notice to the world’s shipping that a smoke bomb of a specified color would mean: “Stop for visit and search.” Suppose, then, that a smoke bomb was fired but that the merchant ship continued serenely on her course. The harassed submarine skipper makes ready his torpedo tubes but gives no order to fire, for the refusal to stop has not yet been persistent, as required by the rules. Just how many refusals make one persistent is nowhere stated, but even in the case of a minimum of two, considering the time necessary for the intentions of the ship to become evident to the submarine, the latter vessel, slow-moving under water, would probably have lost her attack position. Continuing our suppositions, suppose the merchant ship, enemy or neutral, decided to avoid the nuisance of visit and search, with the attendant possibility of being sent into port for further examination. This should be relatively simple. The smoke bomb has placed the position of the submarine with accuracy, so that all that is necessary is to turn tail to it and go at best speed toward the horizon; the submarine captain, faced with the necessity of surfacing, securing from the dive, and getting engines started and worked up to speed, will, unless he has a margin of several knots at his command, find himself hopelessly astern. Of course, by taking such action the cargo vessel is guilty of “active resistance to visit and search” and becomes a legal torpedo target, but the chance of a stern shot finding its mark is infinitesimal.
Now that the submarine captain has so easily stopped his prey and sent his boarding party on board, what then? If she proves to be either an enemy ship or a neutral carrying contraband or performing other unneutral service, she is subject to immediate capture and may even be destroyed, the lack of men for a prize crew being sufficient reason for such action. However, and herein lies the rub, the London Treaty does not permit this to be done without first placing passengers and crew in a place of safety. Unless in close proximity to land or another ship, and the sea is fairly calm, lifeboats are not considered as fulfilling the requirements. Our submarine commander must either crowd the narrow confines of his own craft and tax its meager larder with these unwanted guests or permit the ship to proceed unscathed; in the former case it is conceivable that the crew of not more than one small cargo vessel might be so accommodated, but even this would effectively put to an end the usefulness of the submarine on that particular cruise.
It is plain, then, that the London Treaty, while not so stating, prohibits to a great extent the use of this weapon against enemy commerce. Even were it not hampered by physical restrictions the submarine could not, with any safety to itself, comply with the provisions of the treaty and yet retain a modicum of effectiveness. It is apparent also, from the preliminary argument in this paper, that each of the great powers (our own country again excepted) looks at the submarine question largely from the point of view of its effectiveness against shipping. It is pertinent here again to note the strategical status of the three signatory powers to the treaty. Two of them are insular powers, dependent for existence upon foreign commerce and with traffic lanes converging in focal points; they are peculiarly susceptible to the threat of the submarine. The third, the United States, is geographically in a position to laugh at such a threat. It looks very much as if kind-hearted, unsuspecting, naive old Uncle Sam has again been taken for a buggy-ride and has sacrificed a good, solid advantage for the sake of an ethereal ideal.
Does the Treaty of London prevent the use of submarines against commerce? The writer thinks not. Even though the preamble to Art. XXII states that its contents “are accepted as established rules of international law,” it is not granted that the signing of a treaty by only three powers, regardless of their dominant positions, is sufficient to make international law, although it is freely agreed that its provisions are morally binding on the signatories in case of war upon each other. Even assuming that the submarine provisions of the treaty are accepted as international law and binding on all nations, it is most doubtful if we could expect them to be adhered to in time of stress. International law is indefinite; it is not codified and, except for those parts of it which have been established by general good practice, it is not generally acceded to. One of Britain’s most eminent international lawyers, William Edward Hall, makes the admission that “in the last resort almost the whole of the duties of states are subordinated to the right of self-preservation.”[1] That weapon which, in the summer of 1917, almost brought proud Albion to her knees is not to be cast lightly aside and—witness the modern flotillas of France and Japan—it has not been.
War brings with it new expedients and new excuses for by-passing such international laws as may prove a handicap. Retorsions and reprisals are readily justified. The World War saw an end to the old distinctions regarding contraband, the laws of blockade were given an entirely new and more strict interpretation, neutral vessels were sent into belligerent ports for examination when not liable to capture, and the doctrine of continuous voyage was extended almost to infinity. These were all flagrant violations of neutral rights, well established and hallowed by time. The international laws governing these subjects have not been changed since the war, but it is generally agreed that any future war involving commerce will see the same violations, this time based on precedent. Is there any doubt, then, that future wars will also see the use of submarines as in the last war rather than in accord with the Treaty of London—and based on German precedent?
The future use of submarines in economic warfare depends, as does the freedom of the seas in all wars, upon the relative strengths of the belligerents and the principal neutral power affected. In case the submarine-using belligerent is strong enough to afford such action, neutral commerce with his enemy will be driven from the sea. The procedure, in the opinion of this writer, will closely follow German precedent. A blockade of enemy ports will be declared, and will be made effective by submarines operating in the sea lanes at a safe distance from the hostile shores. Duly promulgated notices will warn all nations that certain sea areas, so located as not to interfere with commerce between neutral and neutral, are barred to all shipping, and that any merchant vessel found therein will be considered to be carrying contraband (there nowadays being scarcely such a thing as noncontraband) and subject to submarine attack. Exceptions might well be made in favor of neutral merchantmen accompanied by neutral men-of-war, the neutral power thus guaranteeing the innocence of the convoy. Ruthless and barbarous! Yes, and a cruel violation of so-called neutral rights as well. But the ruthlessness will apply only to an inanimate neutral trade which is aiding the enemy; there will be personal suffering and death only in case the neutral’s greed for commercial gain leads him to disregard the warnings. That neutrals must bear a share of the suffering in time of war is generally recognized as inevitable. In the words of another British authority, Coleman Phillipson,
When there is conflict between the fundamental rights of a belligerent to insure his safety and his very existence, and the rights of a neutral state to sail the high seas in pursuance of its commercial interests, the latter must, when exceptional circumstances arise, give way to the former.[2]
Let us, then, face the facts! As much as we believe in the sanctity of treaties they will continue to be broken when a nation is in peril, and excuses for so doing can always be found. As much as we would like to circumscribe its horrors, war cannot be made humane. New and frightful methods of destruction are to be expected until such time as Mars is driven from the heavens. Entire populations have become combatants and, as such, can expect but little mercy. Any future conflict involving two or more of the maritime powers will be a titanic struggle by all available means and will see the waging of war against commerce in a manner far from that contemplated by the London Treaty. As a final desperate measure it is even conceivable that our own United States would consider the preservation of the nation to come before treaty obligations. A weapon potent against our possible naval adversaries but to which we ourselves are largely immune is at hand; to so tie our hands with treaties that we are unable logically to prepare it or readily to grasp it would appear to verge on blind folly.
As the matter now stands the United States is bound for all time to uphold these provisions of the treaty. As it would certainly not be in accord with the national philosophy to initiate any action toward terminating our participation in them, such action cannot, and probably should not, be expected. The future, however, is bound to bring forth more conferences, and this subject, so vital to many, is sure to come up for further discussion. In this event, it is hoped that our statesmen, heedful of their naval advisers, will recognize that the submarine is certain to be used as an economic weapon and that, as such, it is peculiarly adapted to our needs, and that they will be governed thereby.
Whether I continue any Length of time in the Navy or not, depends on Circumstances, but whether I do or do not, I wish you prosperity and honour, the Source of which is attention to duty, fondness for the Ship and the general and particular Interest of the Service.—Captain Truxtun to Lieutenant Simon Gross, August 30, 1797.
[1] Hall’s International Law, 8th ed., 1924, p. 322.
[2] Coleman Phillipson, M.A., LL.D., Litt.D., International Law and The Great War, p. 382.