It is generally believed that some kind of an agreement between some, at least, of the different governments of the world, for the better regulation of their mutual relations, must follow the close of the present wars in order most effectively to promote permanent peace. Such an agreement would naturally take the form of a treaty. It is not too soon for all peoples to consider what should be its essential nature. From a state of peace to a state of war is a short step. From a state of war to a state of peace is a long one. Official overtures of a more or less informal character must come first. A preliminary protocol of some kind must then be framed, either with or without a suspension of hostilities. One or more peace conferences naturally follow, to make more definite and permanent arrangements, and their work must practically be ratified by the legislatures of the Powers concerned. Meanwhile public opinion in each of these countries must be considered and clarified. All this takes time, and the most enduring peace is apt to be one that has not been hurried to a conclusion.

It required more than seven years of negotiation to put an end to the Thirty Years’ War. Three were spent in feeble and sporadic attempts at a settlement. Four followed which laid, by the Peace of Westphalia, the foundation of modern political history. Meanwhile fighting continued, and with the bitterness which has always characterized wars of religion. The very men who finally agreed on terms of peace met in separate congresses, one Protestant and the other Catholic, one in Münster and the other in Osnabrück.

The conception of a permanent neutrality for Switzerland sharply differentiates itself from the various phases of neutralization created chiefly after the Congress of Vienna in Europe and elsewhere in the important respect that in the case of Switzerland the Powers did no more than attempt to crystallize in diplomatic and lasting form a political condition which had, as we have heretofore seen, characterized the country during nearly three centuries. The Powers, consequently, merely recognized an existing status and one deemed essential as well to the peace of Europe as to the welfare of Switzerland itself. But at Vienna it was clearly seen that recognition would prove valueless were it not supported by an international guarantee, and one, moreover, which would not only necessarily take the shape of an international protection of Switzerland against outside aggression, but also conserve a unitary and harmonious federal administration within the Swiss boundaries. We are not surprised, accordingly, to find the conception of such a guarantee appearing in the various diplomatic documents heretofore noted which create or attest Swiss neutrality, as in the Treaty of Lunéville, February 9, 1801, and the identical treaties concluded at Paris, May 30,1814, known as the First Peace of Paris (noted in Part I of this series, April, 1918, Journal, p. 241, at p. 246), in which Swiss independence and self-government are expressly recognized: “La Suisse, indépendante, continuera de se gouverner par elle-même.” (Art. VI)

Perhaps no part of international law gives rise to more uncertainty and disagreement than the law which determines the resulting rights and duties of states and individuals upon a change of sovereignty, — the so-called law of succession. One group of writers holds that the. new sovereign succeeds to all the rights and obligations of the former sovereign with respect to the territory ceded. The new sovereign, it is said, like the Roman heir, is “universal successor” to the obligations as well as to the rights of the former sovereign. Grotius suggests the analogy of the Roman heir when he says: “Heredis personam, quoad dominii tam publici quam privati continuationem, pro eadem censeri cum defuncti persona, certi est juris” (Book II, Chap. IX, sec. 12). Again, he says: “Potest imperium victoria acquiti, ut est in rege alio imperante, et tune in ejus jus succeditur” (Book III, Chap. VIII, sec. 2). This analogy, suggested by Grotius when international law was in the making, has had a remarkably strong influence upon the development of the rules of international law governing a change of sovereignty. Many writers of authority, following in the footsteps of Grotius, have laid it down that the new sovereign succeeds to all the obligations as well as to the rights of the former sovereign.

A Thousand peace proposals doubtless could be accounted for in the last five hundred years. Some of them for one reason or another are famous. Dubois, Crucé, Podebrad, Henry IV, Rousseau, Kant, Bentham, Penn, Ladd, are names in this connection quickly recalled to memory.

Now why did all these proposals fail to be heeded by war-weary humanity? Two reasons may be given: first, for the most part they were paper proposals; there was not sufficient driving power behind them; they were written out, the ink dried, and the task was done. No more can a peace proposal organize itself on paper than can a corporation manufacture steel billets with a red-ribboned charter. There must be responsible and powerful initiative, and this initiative must come from a state. Of course, every paper proposal helps to fertilize the ground against the time when nature in its blind way is ready with a favorable wind to implant the germinal substance of a harvest, be it only of thistles or ragweed.

A romantic view of life has it that law grows, that it can not be created. Another similarly romantic allied notion is that man is a product of the earth like a plant. We would not deny the element of truth in these views which flourish or have flourished in the shadow of great names. But is not there something of one-sidedness in this; is not there some exaggeration? Does not destiny hold out some encouragement in the achievement of metaphysical purpose, of final ends, to the use of man’s creative intelligence as a part of the process? It is fortunate for these reflections that on this philosophical jousting-ground, the beliefs, the practices, habits, and experiences of most men are often — or seem to be — favorable to effort.

In an exchange of notes of November 2, 1917, between Secretary of State Lansing and Viscount Ishii, Special Ambassador of Japan, occurs the following paragraph:

That states are more interested in the immediate neighborhood of their frontiers than in remote parts of the world, and are apt to carry on a disproportionate commerce and intercourse or even to expand in such regions, are facts familiar to all students of history and diplomacy; but that geographical position should create special legal capacities is a doctrine perhaps more unfamiliar and seemingly in conflict with certain traditionally repeated maxims, such as the equality of states. If peculiar geographic relationship gives rise to peculiar legal privileges and responsibilities, an absolute equality of states can not be assumed, although equality before the law or equal protection of the law might still be recognized. The fact is unquestionable that on frequent occasions the geographic position of territory. has been offered and accepted as a justification for exceptional proceedings, admitted, in some cases, to be otherwise contrary to the requirements of international law.

Having examined the question of the casus foederìs of the Treaty of Alliance between Greece and Serbia, we shall now inquire whether the use of Greek territory by the Entente Powers for the purpose of carrying on military and naval operations against their enemies and the other forcible measures resorted to against Greece were justified either by reason of rights resulting from treaties, or on account of unneutral acts or omissions of the Government of Constantine.

Before discussing the points at issue, it will be necessary to summarize seriatim the facts connected with each.

It should be remembered that from the very beginning of the present war the Entente Powers have utilized the territorial waters of some islands in the Ægean Sea which were either under the military occupation of Greece or form part of her territory, and which the Allies subsequently occupied in order to further their military enterprises against Turkey. Thus, during the autumn of the year 1914, shortly after the entrance (November 5th) of the latter Power into the war as an ally of Germany and Austria, the fleets of the Entente Powers utilized the harbors and territory of some of the islands in the vicinity of the Straits of the Dardanelles as bases for their naval and, subsequently, military operations. The islands thus used for the prosecution of the war were Tenedos, Imbros, and Lemnos, and particularly the latter, on account of its convenient and safe harbor.