And then came M. Briand’s speech, which caused the first Conference crisis. For days after that speech was made, I listened to people remake it, giving their idea of how he might have used the same matter and carried his audience with him, giving them the impression of a courageous people, as they really are, intent not only on the restoration of their tormented and suffering land but willing to do their part to restore the rest of the world. Instead, M. Briand gave an impression of a land in panic, its mind centered on possible dangers from a conquered enemy. It was _France Sanglante_ that he held in upraised arms before the Conference, a bleeding France at whom ravening German and Russian wolves were snapping and threatening. All his powerful oratory, his wealth of emotional gesture, upraised arms, tossed black locks, rolling head, tortured features—all these M. Briand brought into play in his efforts to arouse the Conference to share the fears of France. He could not do it. He was talking to people as well informed as himself on the actual facts of Europe, but people who are not interpreting those facts in the way that the French do. He was talking to people who view the situation of the present world as one to be corrected only by hard, steady sacrifice and work in a spirit of good will and mercy. Unhappily he gave them the impression that France thought only of herself and of what the world should do for her to pay her for her terrible sacrifices. In his picture of bleeding France he did not include bleeding Belgium, Italy, England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, all of whom sat at the table and all of whom had suffered losses and are staggering under debts, if not equal, at least comparable to those of France.
It was a mistake of emphasis, that brilliant journalist Simeon Strunsky said. He pointed out that the thing really relevant in M. Briand’s speech was practically concealed from the public, that France had disarmament plans on hand which soon would reduce her army one half and her term of military service from three years to eighteen months. M. Briand’s tragic picture of the danger of France so obscured this statement, so vitally important to the work of the Conference, that not a few people contended that no such statement was ever made. One has only to look at the text of the address to see that it was there, though so out of proportion to the bulk of the speech that it failed of its effect.