An American View of Britain

As a businessman he heads Fairbanks International Limited devoted to commercial and industrial development projects and ventures on an international scale.

Prior to World War II he joined the U.S. Naval Reserve and is now a more-or-less retired Captain. His courage, ability and energy during the war not only earned him countless medals for service in seven major campaigns; decorations including the British D.S.C., the French Croix de Guerre with palm, the American Silver Star and Legion of Merit, but also recognition by top Allied commanders, as evidenced by the remark of one beleaguered Admiral who said, "The only way to get any peace on any project is to include Douglas in on it right from the start." He was the only U.S. officer to command a flotilla of amphibious raiding craft under Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten's Combined Operations Headquarters.

After the invasion of France he served on the headquarters of the Commander-in-Chief, U.S. Fleet as liaison between the Chiefs of Staff and the State Department. It was during this period we have the incident of Commander Fairbanks reviewing the rehearsal of a benefit staged by a U.S. Navy group. A special rendition of "Anchors Aweigh" has as a climax each man popping up and singing one word of the song in rapid succession. The Commander grumbled, "Very shabby performance! I got a glimpse of the sailor who stood up and sang 'Anchors' and he was a mess." His aide replied "He wasn't the worst. You should have seen the one that got 'Aweigh.' "

Mr. Fairbanks has received so many awards for amity that he has raised some unamiable brows. The British created him a Knight Commander of the British Empire and Knight of St. John of Jerusalem; the French awarded him the Legion of Honour and the rulers of Greece, the Netherlands, Belgium, Italy, Chile, Brazil and Korea have conferred their nation's highest orders upon him.

With spare time on his hands and spare vitamins in his system he either heads or is active in a variety of good works, chiefly international in character, including CARE of which he was national chairman as he was of American Relief for Korea. He was national Vice-President of the American Association for the United Nations, and is a director of the English-Speaking Union of the United States and the Cordell Hull Foundation. In Britain he is a Governor of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, president of a branch of the St. John's Ambulance Brigade, and a member of the Guild of St. Bride's Church in the City of London. His diplomatic assignments have included those of Presidential Envoy for President Roosevelt (Franklin that is); official missions for U.S. Navy and State Department and Consultant to Presidential Advisor under President Truman. Mr. Fairbanks is a constant commuter across the Atlantic and we are indeed fortunate in having him alight, however briefly, among us. I am honoured in presenting the enthusiastic Anglophile and ambassador to the court of good will, Mr. Douglas Fairbanks Jr.

MR. FAIRBANKS:

I am not insensitive to the honour you do me by including me in the list of distinguished guests who have addressed you in the past. In fact, I was so keenly aware of the high standard set by my predecessors that after the first flush of the flattery of the invitation had been weathered, I very nearly declined it. That I am now here does not mean my timidity or apprehension is any less but that my susceptibility to flattery, and my gratitude for your hospitality, is more--much more!

Col. Hilborn has for days been quietly smoothing my anxious feathers with honeyed reassurances of the members expected to fill this room today, together with the impressive list of honoured guests we now see at the head table. He made a kindly point of saying what fairly widespread interest this visit of mine had created in advance. Some confusion developed, however, on my arrival when during a large and delightful reception last evening, nearly everyone I met greeted me with, "Well, what on earth are you doing here?" If the answer is one of mistaken identity, or I'm here on the wrong day, or there is some other mix-up, I disclaim all responsibility.

As to subject matter, I felt that for an American to avoid talking about his own country would at least be a novelty. The U.S. inspires expressions of opinion in media ranging from speeches to articles to library burnings to lying about and blocking traffic. Canadians, too, get involved in their share of controversy (sometimes of their own making). I thought, therefore, that we would both get off the spot by my submitting for your possible interest the purely private view of an American, myself, of Britain today. This decision had the advantage of the subject being several thousand miles away. Furthermore, it is unlikely that Britain would be very much concerned with my views anyway.

I hope no one will think because I intend to talk about Britain that I claim to be an expert on the subject. An expert is usually one who knows a lot about a little. I, alas, am one of those who knows a little about a lot. Transatlantic commuting, even over a lifetime, may not lead to any profound analyses, but it obviously must create a number of impressions--particularly if one destination was a nation, with which, both your country and mine share a long and fascinating history.

It is doubtful if the British can, any more than anyone else, see themselves as others seem them. However, it is generally conceded that Canadians can see both Britain and the United States in clearer perspective than either can see the other. I cannot expect, therefore, to tell you anything you don't already know. All I can do is as I say, to offer a private view, and to hope that America's claim to being Britain's oldest child--a child once thought of as a prime example of national juvenile delinquency--will be sufficiently tolerated by her second oldest child, and still loyal partner, that my view on how the Britain of today looks to me, an

American, will not seem too gratuitous. I can also hope that Mum won't mind us talking about her behind her back.

It is admittedly dangerous to generalize about anything--particularly a nation like Britain which abounds in so many contradictions. British life, like British weather, is seldom extreme, but it is endlessly variable and precise observations are difficult to arrive at. But regardless of the status of Britain's fortunes, she has never ceased, for the past 400 years or so, to be important. Her management of her own affairs may have often seemed to others to be provocative, or even unfathomable, but she could never be ignored. When things have gone well for her, some thought an all-knowing, self-perpetuating Cabal was at work. When things have gone badly, observers wagged their heads and said she had lost her touch--she was through!

Policy: I don't believe Britain's "policy" as such, has ever been any different from that of any other nation's. The policy of every nation is an attempt to achieve a cycle of security for itself. First, economic security to safeguard social and political security, then military security to safeguard economic security, and so on. And each grows by what it feeds on. Britain has been historically conspicuous only because as a national freak, she is one of civilization's more spectacular success stories. I say "freak" because of the disparity between what she once was and what she eventually became. From a lovely green, but unimportant island in the North Sea of singularly few resources beyond a population of widely dissimilar tribes who, insulated by the channel from the debilitating struggles of the Continent, nonetheless kept blundering into adventures against great odds of both man and nature (and for which they were usually unprepared), she evolved a world-wide model system of freedom under law, while at the same time, and almost inadvertently, acquired the mastery of one-third of the globe. It might almost be called the story of "How To Succeed In History Without Really Trying."

That the largest empire in history, in its moment of greatest triumph, peacefully transformed itself into the modern Commonwealth is indeed a tribute to the virility of its component parts. But it is even more due, I submit, to the British talent for the practical at the expense of the logical. This talent long ago gave up seeking final solutions to any problems. Instead it reconciled itself to a belief that neither victory nor defeat, neither success nor failure, are ever final or irrevocable.

British resourcefulness, resiliency and, if I may discreetly add, her conceit, are not, I believe, the evidence of an extraordinary determination to land on top, and upright, so much as a stubborn inability to conceive any other outcome possible.

A good deal of British self-fancy has been inherited by their offspring. I would not venture to be so ill-mannered as to comment on the characteristics of my hosts, but it has been said that the main difference between the British and the Americans' is that whereas the British always thought the world normal but themselves superior, the Americans thought themselves normal but the rest of the world inferior!

Be that as it may, what the British do have, and in abundance, is character! Many of the facets of what we believed to be immutable about the British character nowa days appear to be undergoing a change of sorts. And, if true, no wonder! The vast expenditure of British blood and treasure in two great wars was the first installment of the price paid to preserve their kind of life. The second installment, now being paid is an adjustment to a world for which she no longer alone keeps the peace--a world requiring a basic alteration in philosophy and habits, yet in which, from a precarious, lesser position, she must still maintain worldwide obligations with the largest per capita defence expenditure in the Free World while struggling to live well within her depleted means.

Her thinly disguised nostalgia for the halcyon days are impossible to satisfy in a time when intercontinental Superpowers compete with huge and highly productive populations, drawing on immense reserves of natural resources. However developed British technocracy becomes, there are physical limits beyond which her 55 million people just cannot hope to go.

The Commonwealth has, to be sure, many virtues which are the envy and admiration of the world. Yet, this association, this international co-operative cannot and would not if it could, act as a single unit. The treaties and the balances of trade between individual members of this political miracle indicate that, except in time of great peril, there is a robust reluctance to subordinate the welfare of any one for any other. Even the theory of peaceful interdependence is subject to differing interpretations. Only in the common recognition of the Queen as its head is there a formal unity. But here again, there is the anachronism that the most progressive and liberal democracies within the Commonwealth are the constitutional monarchies, whereas the relatively restrictive or underdeveloped countries are generally the republics. Yet, the Commonwealth does function-illogically--as" an institution, and its intrinsic value to its members and to the world, is far more important than its actual strength--more important, probably, than its members themselves realize.

As self-reliance is one of the objectives of the Commonwealth, so Britain must rely on herself to deal with the vexations bedeviling her. One undisguisable frustration de rives from the overriding pressures brought upon her in various fields by the U.S., on whose friendship and strength she leans. Undoubtedly grateful for many great gestures of friendship and support in dangerous times, she is not unaware that we helped to urge her expedite her own demotion as an imperial power; that we assumed, however, reluctantly or tentatively, many of her former burdens of world leadership, and that by employing the most telling methods to win trade (most of which, I might add, we learned at Mother's knee), we have replaced her in many markets which are vital to her.

After creating some of the world's most scientifically-sophisticated engines, aircraft, weapons, drugs, medicines, electronic and nuclear devices, in spite of all her Jobean tribulations to the 20th Century, it must sometimes be both embittering and discouraging to give way to the competition not only of one's closest friends, but also to one's abjectly defeated but now prospering former enemies.

Is it any wonder then that, with this and that, Britain is today so obviously confused and undecided about where they are, what they are, where they are going, or, indeed, where they want to go? Is it any wonder that much of the old lion's growl sometimes sounds like a yap--or occasionally a whine? Standing on the threshold and looking in the door, we see this country of great, often whimsical contrasts exhibiting more of them than ever. We see, for example, a number but by no means all, of her key industries plagued either by outmoded equipment, inefficient management, limited labour forces guided by old-fashioned union leadership, ineffective labour-management relations, and unimaginative salesmanship. Contrarily, there are other industries as modern as next week, which are second to none in efficiency and productivity, with the most progressive management and resourceful workers, and setting new standards for ingenious marketing. We hear their desperate pleas for more exports, yet note that, as one example, their motor car industry, is, after America's, the largest in the world. We read that their balance of payments, or their trade gap, is intolerable and that their currency is in grave danger. Yet, the pound sterling is still the trading currency of half the world; London is still one of the two great banking centres of the world; rubber, tin, diamonds, gold, and even the fine arts still have their principle markets in London; British merchant shipping still girdles the earth and practically all insurance everywhere finds its way ultimately to London. We hear of new restrictive measures and belt-tightening, but we see a domestic well-being that looks to the eye better than any previously known. Theatres and shops are jammed, new roads, buildings and houses sprout like mushrooms, more expensive cars are seen in the streets than ever before, and fashion, for men and women, has regained its old influence. How confusing can a situation be?

The most significant changes are, it seems to me, the least visible ones. The British are good shopkeepers and do their window dressing very well. They sweep the trash under the rug or to the back of the house. Externally, much remains as before. The countryside is, of course, still a neat, green paradise; the villages, so many peaceful havens for the wearied soul, the ugliness of the industrial towns have become a bit less ugly than before and the beauty spots of the great cities are as beautiful as ever. Perhaps more so as they have been cleaned up.

The people continue to be, for the most part at least, simple, kindly, and polite, and the words "honest" and "decency" and "gallantry" are still spoken of out loud and without embarrassment as virtues to respect and emulate. Dignity and coziness still go hand in hand--most of the time. But, beneath all this, one is curiously aware of an undercurrent of discontent. It may well be that this is a form of thwarted vitality looking for a place to go and something to do. It sometimes may take the shape of youthful violence and petty crime, or a massive grumbling about petty or provincial matters, or hysterical shrieks of wounded national pride. Certainly the threads of tension are being woven into the usual pattern of calm. Splotches of deliberate scruffiness are discolouring the bold mural of casual elegance. The old melody of good-humour is occasionally thrown off-key by a discordant counter-melody of irritability, pique, and cynicism. Self-confidence gives ground to uncertainty, apology, and sensitivity. Behind all the shine and glitter of the new, wider, affluent society, there is a frustrated, indecisive quality of mind which for so long kept the world in balance, and intrudes that particular pride of responsibility, and that particular sense of mission which one could once almost smell in the salty air.

In a renaissance of exploding energy in the arts and sciences, in commerce and industry, at a time when life is fuller, gayer, more rewarding than ever, she mumbles despair under her breath--and many old faiths are suspect.

What then is the answer? What is to happen? No one, of course, can predict which way the world will wag. Britain's watery frontiers were ordained by nature, but the human frontiers have been narrowed by the developments of history and the over-resourcefulness of her people.

It is possible, in a practical sense, that a way will in time be found to reconcile her attachments to the commonwealth with amended qualifications for Common Market member ship or its equivalent. Meanwhile, pressures on sterling will probably continue from time to time, and its ability to regain its former potency is questionable. Yet, so much and so many depend on sterling that it would not surprise me--an admitted amateur and poorly informed economist--if, in time, a closer relationship were not devised with the dollar. The dollar and the pound mean a great deal to each other, and although a straight forward "marriage" may be politically impractical, they might just live openly together in sin, as it were--or in some more respectable form of intimacy. Many currency reforms are even now being proposed and studied.

I would not have the temerity or indeed the impertinence, to comment on medicine for the patient, especially as a diagnosis is still a matter of speculation. But no one of us in the U.S. or Canada can deny that our common special attachments to Britain justify our special interest in her future.

The brightest pages in Britain's history were never of her conquests, her arts or inventions--although these have been equal to any. Indeed, she has already been as decisive to civilization as have the Chinese, the Greeks or the Romans. Yet, she has never been able to command--even at the zenith of her power--the most of anything. Only the best of some things. No, her greatest natural resource has been her people--mystical, whimsical, at once dour and comic; stubborn and liberal and conservative; nonconformist to the point of eccentricity, so individualistic that, en masse, they form a recognizable pattern; peaceable but tough--and even, when the occasion demands, ruthless; insular and worldly, naive and sophisticated, timid and brave, cautious and adventurous; drab, plain, and glamorous; a people who, in the words of Lord Harlech, the retiring Ambassador to the U.S. "can only see the writing on the wall when their backs are to it."

These most expert legend-makers; these masters of make-believe and dramatic ceremony, these devout believers in the cohesive, inexplicit strength of symbols, these shy but vainglorious romanticists--these people, of whom Emerson said, over a hundred years ago, when pressed upon by "the transition of trade and competing populations--remember that they have seen dark days before ... indeed, seem to see better on a cloudy day," and in adversity seem to draw upon a "secret vigour" and have a "pulse like a cannon."

Britain, as we have noted, has a kind of perverse proclivity--or destiny for doing things the hard way. It would be foolhardy to assume that merely because she has always in the past managed to pluck the flower of prosperity from the nettle of disaster, she will do so again. Still, it is equally foolhardy ever to sell her short. This is because she is more accustomed than most to change and experiment and innovation--but only so long as it does not unduly ruffle the illusion of orderly continuity, and so long as only the inward facts and not the outward forms are changed. Only in the reminding of herself of her virile and romantic past, in her maintenance of tradition and ceremony, in her confidence in and devotion to proven institutions, does she find the spiritual reassurance and encouragement she needs to stay on her feet--and off her knees!

Perhaps what we are seeing is only a period of convalescence, or a "change of life," of one more transition in her long story, of restoring energies in order to stand up again, refreshed, and, in concert with the changed times and circumstances, to renew her claims on history.

There has always been much to praise about Britain, much to deplore, much to criticize, much to inspire, much to pity, much to laugh at, much to irritate. But it would be a poorer world in general--a poorer New World in particular--were she to fall back into the shadows of history. This, for some typically inexplicable reason--beyond sentiment or wishful thinking, is highly unlikely with so many statistics to contradict, or becloud the issues. With every contradicting statistic to answer, I respectfully submit that we can still today risk subscribing to John Milton's 17th Century view of "a noble and puissant nation, rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks--viewing her mightly young and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam."

Thanks

Thanks of this meeting were expressed by Mr. Alex. Stark, Q.C., a Past President of the Empire Club.