CORRESPONDENCE.
THE LESSON OF AMERICAN RECONSTRUCTION.
[TO THE EDITOR OP THE "SPECTATOR.']
Sru,—When a nation has to face a new problem it is natural to look about for a parallel, and in the successes or failures of others there is the material of political wisdom. And the more modern such a parallel is the more useful it becomes for
guidance. The one engrossing problem which Britain has to meet in the near future is the reorganisation of South Africa, and the proper treatment of the rebels in Cape Colony, and among the many cognate instances in history the re- construction of the United States after the Civil War is at once the most modern and the most helpful. On several points they had to face the same problem as ourselves. A certain part of the nation were in the posi- tion of conquered rebels. They had seceded, and had been brought back by force, and while they could not be denied the rights of citizens, such rights must be curtailed, at least for a time, on both penal and prudential grounds. I need not concern myself with the grave constitutional difficulties in effecting such a curtailment, which divided Northern statesmen for several years ; nor need I express any opinion on the morality of many of the transactions. But I can ask what steps were taken in this attempt at re- construction, and judge of their merits by their results. There was no serious difference of opinion in the Northern camp as to the ends to be attained. The South must be punished and secured, but such punishment must not be so severe as to engender permanent ill-feeling, and the security must leave room for the resumption of citizen rights. The Presidential plan, which Lincoln foreshadowed and President Johnson attempted to carry out, was to treat the South in exactly the same way as the loyal North, to give it complete control of its own affairs, and permit it to retain its old representatives in Congress. The fear which should temper mercy was apparently to be found in the punishment of the conspicuous leaders. But this policy was attacked, not on its merits, but on the question of undue power given to the Executive, by the Constitutional party, who insisted with Howard that some kind of tutelage, for five or ten or twenty years as it might be, was necessary before the South couM be trusted with full political power. Disfranchisement of certain classes for a time and some form of military occupation were necessary, unless the cause of the negroes was to be lost, and the North were to lose "by the ballot what they had won by arms." This Congressional policy was advocated at first partly on formal constitutional grounds, and partly from motives of revenge, and the attitude of a man like Thaddeus Stevens was far enough from statesmanship. But the view, as finally adopted and carried out by Grant, proved the best in the circumstances. It is difficult to see what other modus operandi could have been found. The war had been undertaken to establish two principles,—compulsory union and the abolition of slavery. It was the policy, not of the whole North, but of a party in the North,—the Republicans ; and if the status before the war had been restored and the old system of representation allowed, the South might well have joined hands with the left wing of the Democrats and defeated the ends of the triumphant party. I have no criticism to offer on the general scheme, but only on its later elaboration. Let us see how it worked out. The actual constitutional changes which the war produced were the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments, which abolished servitude, enfranchised the negroes, and at the same time made stringent provision against those who had actually been engaged in the rebellion holding office in the United States, unless Congress removed such disabilities by a vote of two-thirds of each House. The change took time; for example, the Fifteenth Amendment was not ratified till 1870 under the Presidency of Grant. But meantime the affairs of the South had to be administered, and in March, 1867, Congress passed an Act dividing the South into five military districts, where military rule was to be supreme. Military Tribunals superseded the civil Courts, and all civil authorities and State Governments were declared provisional and subject to the paramount authority of the United States. It was a despotism, to be sure, but a provisional and necessary one; the constitutional mechanism of the States was for the most part retained, and a way was left open for a gradual return to their old status. Nevertheless the system worked as badly as possible. The more respectable part of each community was disfranchised, and, since government must be carried on, political adventurers from the North appeared, who, with the aid of Northern bayonets and the residuum of the populace, inaugurated a hey- day of corruption. The reign of the Carpet-baggers began, as must always happen when the farce of constitutional govern- ment is kept up, and at the same time the larger part of a Ctate is disfranchised. "A grotesque parody of government, a hideous orgie of anarchy, violence, unrestrained corruption, undisguised, ostentatious, insulting robbery,"—such is the verdict of an impartial historian. A new type of political machinery arose called the Returning Boards. The Governor of a State would appoint a Commission, which filled its vacancies by co-optation, and rejected the votes of any district it pleased on the vague ground of intimidation. Such a Board had any election in its own hands, and it is easy to see how it became a formidable engine of misgovernment. The lesson for us is clear. The necessity of punishment is undoubted, but all schemes of elaborate confiscation and exaction of indemnities are apt to recoil upon the innocent in the shape of a lost trade and an impoverished country. It is clear, too, that the lesson only applies to one-half of our task,— our treatment of rebels, and not our pacification of enemies. The rebellion has been against the British Constitution, and the punishment should be a curtailment of political rights. But if America's experience counts for anything, it should teach us to avoid two dangers, or rather one danger with a double face. If we disfranchise let us disfranchise by district and not by class.. Let us select certain districts which have been notoriously disloyal, and let us deprive them of their share in South-African government for some limited number of years. There will be some minor injustice, but no punish- ment in this fallible world includes only the guilty. Meanwhile the government of such districts would be provided for by Im. penal officers, military or civilian, who when their work was done would go. Such government would be vigorous and impartial, and by its very remoteness from the common constitutional forms would reveal its temporary and penal character. Nor would it kill capacity for self-government, as a nervous constitu- tionalist might argue, for if history teaches one lesson it is that capacity for constitutional government is not only hard to kill, but is all the stronger for a short eclipse. Above all, such a government would be above suspicion of corruption, which is the most fatal flaw in a scheme of punishment. Let our disfranchisement, then, be by districts, for a limited period of time, and, within such limits of time and place, absolute; let it be clearly a temporary expedient, introduced from the out- side, and with no pretence to constitutional character. Other- wise, if a class only be disfranchised, and- a farce of popular government be kept up under a military' nis, there is the strongest likelihood of corruption, and a permanent legacy of race-bitterness. To parody a liberal government is far more dangerous than to abrogate it for a time, and such a method would be a travesty, as dangerous as the Carpet- baggers and the Returning Boards. The lesson from the United States, as we have seen, does not apply to the whole of our problem, but it suggests by very disastrous examples some methods to be avoided in the reconstruction of rebellious districts. Such treason is assumed to be of the negative and subordinate kind, for in the case of ringleaders and those whose disloyalty is clearly isolated we should have recourse to the ordinary Courts of Law. The general policy which the time demands is nowhere better set forth than in some words of Andrew Johnson, which, unfortunately, neither the Presi- dent himself nor his opponents cared to adhere to:—" Those," he said, "who through the dark and weary night of the Rebellion have maintained their allegiance will be honoured. The erring and misguided will be welcomed on their return. And while it may be necessary in vindicating the violated majesty of the law, and in reasserting its Imperial sway, to punish intelligent and conscious treason in high places, no merely retaliatory or vindictive policy will be adopted. To those especially who in a private, unofficial capacity have assumed an attitude of hostility to the Government, a full and complete amnesty for all past acts is offered upon the one condition of their again yielding themselves peaceful citizens to the just supremacy of the laws." This last sentence must, however, be qualified with a reservation,—that such an amnesty should in certain places and for a certain time exclude political rights—I am,
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