If we ask ourselves what it was that secured to the world since the time of the Reformation a fair measure of peace and security, the answer will surely lie in the fact that a firm conviction pervaded all minds of the sacredness and sanctity of territory. It was not a reasoned conviction: no conviction based on reason is of compelling force. Its force lay in the fact that an invasion of territory deprived the invaded party of reason: it was a touch on a nerve, which would provoke an automatic violent reaction: its consequences were incalculable. It is these irrational urges which lie at the base of all our reasoning and assumptions. In this case, it was not so much that an invaded state would feel stung to resist the invader, however hopelessly; it was rather that an invaded state could not but resist—had no idea of not resisting.

The outstanding accomplishment of the Lima Conference was without doubt the Declaration of the Principles of the Solidarity of America, known more briefly as the Declaration of Lima. Its formulation was not brought about by discussions in the committee to which problems relating to the “Organization of Peace” were entrusted, but was rather the outcome of informal and in part confidential conversations among the heads of the several delegations. Numerous drafts were submitted in the process of reconciling conflicting views. Compromises were made by delegates with more advanced views in order to secure the assent of those taking a more conservative position. The requisite of unanimity not only delayed the final adoption of an acceptable text, but of necessity introduced elements of confusion in the logical order of the Declaration and of inconsistency in the relations of its several parts. Nevertheless the final result was a document of far-reaching importance in the progress of international law within the western hemisphere; and the agreement which it embodies must for the time rank as the most significant statement of principles and pledge of concerted action in the history of Latin American conferences.

Undoubtedly the generally recognized rules governing the exertion of military force at any given period are the outcome of social and economic conditions as well as of the development of new modes of attack upon life and property. Yet many believe that new forms of the exertion of military strength may be restrained by international agreement made in time of peace and in the name of humanity. Although such agreements have been made in the past, such as the Hague agreements of 1899 and 1907, not all have been viable. It is doubtful if effective ways of striking down the enemy will be limited by the bare plea of “humanity”. Restraint on the exercise of belligerent force for the sole reason that the sufferings of war are great and cruel is instinctive but not logical, for war is death and injury of persons and destruction of property by which the enemy is forced to submit. As to this matter Oppenheim says in his International Law:

During the year 1938, the seventeenth year of its existence, the Permanent Court of International Justice was in active session for a total of 69 days—from April 29 to June 30; on July 13 and 14; and from November 28 to December 1. This compares with 107 days of active session in 1937, 143 days in 1936, and 107 days in 1935.

The Inter-American Committee of Experts for the Codification of International Law, created by resolution of the Seventh Conference of American States at Montevideo in 1933, met, for the second time, at Lima, Peru, from November 24 to December 21, 1938, after a preliminary exchange of views by mail. Of the seven members of the Committee, a quorum of four was present.

War, as a social phenomenon, has been defined as “a fight between human societies, in primitive conditions between savage tribes, in the civilized world between states.” Ever since history has recorded the activities of organized groups, war has been one of its principal topics. Since it appears to be a fundamental element in their life, its explanation has been sought in the basic conditions of their existence. Thus, it is said, the law of growth and expansion, innate as a natural tendency in the individual being as well as in organized societies, compels them with irresistible force to assert their rights and to seek “security” by combating others. War, it seems, is ordained by nature and is an inevitable result of competition.

The steady decline during the last half-century in the degree of effective control wielded by China over the borderlands of her great empire has been accompanied by widespread confusion concerning the international position of these areas. Obscured through the establishment by foreign nations of numerous special concessions, spheres of influence, and protectorates, the exact legal relationship existing between the central authority of China and the governors of these territories has been a cause for frequent and vigorous debate. Those groups which have sought to advance the claims of their governments to wider concessions in these regions, and those publicists who have made unsubstantiated statements about the imperialistic aims of various states in these areas, have profited by this confusion. This condition of uncertainty regarding legal status, which exists in some degree with regard to each of the four Chinese dependencies, is markedly present in the case of Outer Mongolia, a region of growing importance in Far Eastern affairs.

In his world broadcast on September 27, 1938, immediately after his conversations at Godesberg with Chancellor Hitler, Prime Minister Chamberlain pointed out that he had gained the Czech Government’s consent to the Berchtesgaden proposals which “gave the substance of what Herr Hitler wanted,” and that he “was taken completely by surprise” when at Godesberg he “found that he [Hitler] insisted that the territory should be handed over to him immediately, and immediately occupied by German troops without previous arrangement for safeguarding the people within the territory who were not Germans or did not want to join the German Reich.” This attitude he found “unreasonable” but added that in spite of sympathy “with a small nation confronted by a big and powerful neighbor we can not in all circumstances undertake to involve the whole British Empire in war simply on her account. If we have to fight it must be on a larger issue than that. I am myself a man of peace . . . but if I were convinced that any nation had made up its mind to dominate the world by fear of its force, I should feel that it must be resisted.”

Among the problems recurrently agitating European chancelleries and military strategists is that of the status of the Aaland Islands. Located between Sweden and Finland athwart the entrances to the Gulfs of Bothnia and Finland, these islands long have played a role of importance in North European affairs which bids fair to increase in significance in the immediate future. The islands have a direct bearing upon the military and naval strategy of all countries bordering upon the Baltic Sea, and their status must be of concern to all nations having shipping interests in this region. The so-called Aaland Islands Question is now a complex of questions regarding sovereignty and title to the islands, as well as their neutralization and militarization.

The familiar and confusing distinction between de facto and de jure recognition is made even more confusing in a recent British decision, The Arantzazu Mendi. The failure to understand the distinction between de facto recognition of a new state or government and de jure recognition, has been in part caused by a careless use of terms. “The subject has been unduly complicated,” writes Borchard, “by the chameleonic uses of the term de facto, which has been applied promiscuously to de facto authorities in the field, to governments not established by constitutional methods, and as an adjective to qualify recognition. …” Raestad notes that although “de jure recognition” is more or less equivalent to “recognition,” and a “dejure government” to “government,” the term de facto is used differently. What is the difference between (1) de facto recognition of a government, (2) recognition of a de facto government, and (3) recognition as a (or the) de facto government?

In the conduct of foreign policy and the participation of the United States in international affairs, the relation between the Navy and the Foreign Service is of vital importance, but often misunderstood. The relationship encompasses the very wide range of coördination and coöperation which should and must exist between the two interdependent government agencies in peace, during times of national emergency, and, finally, when the country is engaged in actual warfare. The relationship involves, as well, the larger problem of national defense, and this cannot be ignored if the United States is to maintain its proper position in world affairs.

Perhaps no other problem of international law plays at the present time such an important rôle as the problem of revision, or, as it is now called with a new and rather ambiguous term, “peaceful change.” This is in itself a change. For whereas advanced municipal laws naturally contain provisions for the change of the positive law by legislation or by constitutional amendments, the problem was, up to a short time ago, nearly wholly neglected in international law, both practically and theoretically. International law was primarily static, as indeed are all primitive juridical orders. Not only were the great peace treaties since 1648 meant to be perpetual, but even proposals de lege ferenda were purely static.

The terms of Annex Three of the Anglo-Italian Agreement signed at Rome on April 16, 1938, focus attention, inter alia, upon the legal status of a vast area adjoining the British Crown Colony of Aden. Not only does this part of the agreement bring to the fore many questions relative to the Arabian Peninsula and the Red Sea region, but recent political developments in India as well have resulted in a change in legal status of Aden together with the Aden hinterland. These changes under the British Crown are important in a discussion of British jurisdiction in this area.

Professor A. L. Goodhart, of Oxford, in a paper on “The Nature of International Law” indicates a field of research which has hitherto been somewhat neglected by international lawyers. He suggests that “some of the most distinguished writers on international law have not sufficiently emphasised in their definitions of international law the essential part played by the community.” This criticism does not, in our opinion, apply only to the definition of international law. None of its main issues, such as recognition, state responsibility, protection of nationals and property abroad, extradition, neutrality, intervention, or the rules of warfare, can be seen in their proper perspective if we disregard this background and the fundamental changes now taking place in the social environment which Professor Goodhart calls the “community.”

The question of the admissibility of reservations to multilateral treaties continues to present problems of great theoretical and practical interest. In particular, there is still considerable uncertainty regarding the procedure which should be followed where a signatory or adhering state desires to formulate reservations in the act of ratification or adherence. This question is of special interest to international organizations such as the Pan American Union and the League of Nations. As depositaries of treaties and of instruments of ratification and adherence, the procedural aspect of this problem is a matter of every day concern.

At a time when the subject of arms embargoes and arms export control is arousing considerable interest both at home and abroad, it is not untimely to examine the system of control which has developed in one of the chief arms producing and exporting countries of the world—Great Britain. Much attention has been devoted to the alleged evils of the international traffic in arms, and to the desirability of an effective government control over all armaments exports. Little consideration, on the other hand, has been given by writers to the question of how such control should be administered by a government, and what measures are actually involved. Taking the experience of Great Britain as a case study, the writer proposes in the following pages to trace the development of arms export control in that country, to examine the ways in which it has been administered, and to point out some of the difficulties which have been encountered. The present article may be looked upon, therefore, as a case study in the broader subject of national controls over the export of war materials.