The War After the War Part 6

You must not get the impression from this long list of American business calamity that all our endeavour has failed in France. Those few great American corporations who have planted the flag of our commercial enterprise wherever the trade winds blow, have long and successfully held up their end throughout the Republic. So, too, with some individuals. The story of what one New Yorker did is an inspiring and perhaps helpful lesson in the right way to do business in France.

This man is resolute and resourceful: he speaks French fluently and he was familiar with the foreign trade field. With the outbreak of war he did not lose his head and try to get business indiscriminately. Instead, he made a careful survey of the field; he did not listen to the optimist who said it would be a short war: his instinct told him, on the contrary, that it would be a long one. "What will France need more than anything else?" he asked himself.

He realised that most of all France would need machine tools. He got the cables busy a.s.sembling goods, and by every known route he brought them to France. When he had a warehouse full of material, he began to sell.

He not only had what the French were hungering for, but he had them to deliver overnight. While his colleagues were frantically trying to get their stuff in, he was getting all the business. The French like the man who makes good.

This man met their expectations and to-day he stands at the top of the selling heap.

More than this, he is building a factory on the outskirts of Paris where he will make and a.s.semble his product. Ask him the reason why he is doing this, and he will tell you:

"First, it means good will; second, we will get the benefit of native and cheap labour; third, we will be able to replace parts at once; and, fourth, we will get inside the wall of the Economic Alliance."

IV--_The New France_

No matter how we heed the example of the few progressive Americans who have successfully planted their business interests in France, we will face a new handicap when the war ends. As in England, we will be bang up against an industrial awakening that will mark an epoch. Coupled with this revival will be an efficiency born of the war needs that will act as a tremendous speeder-up.

In France this galvanised industrial life will be stimulated by a brilliant imagination wholly lacking in the English temperament. It will go a long way toward opening up fresh fields of labour and distribution.

Self-sufficiency will be the keynote. The automobile is a striking instance. We had established a very promising motor market (and especially with moderate-and low-priced cars) among the French. When the Government a.s.sumed control of the French automobile factories and changed their output to war munitions, the two great automobile syndicates protested that the cutting off of the French motor supply would mean an immense loss of good will. First came a 70 per cent duty on practically all American cars and this was followed up by an almost complete restriction of all American cars.

This prohibition will have the same effect as the English exclusion in that it will stimulate the demand for the native French cars. Here we get to one of the striking phases of the new industrial development of immense concern to us. France has her eye on quant.i.ty output. Many signs point to it.

When the war broke out, a certain young French engineer saw great opportunity in sh.e.l.l making. He was immuned from military service, he had a little capital of his own, and with Government aid he set to work.

Within four months he had built an enormous plant on the banks of the Seine almost within the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. In six months he had enlarged his capacity so that he was producing 15,000 sh.e.l.ls a day. Last summer he sent for the agent of a large American machinery company: "I am going to make automobiles in series after the war." "In series" is the French way of expressing quant.i.ty output.

"All right," said the American. "What can I do for you?"

"Simply this," said the Frenchman. "I wish to order sufficient automatics to meet the demand when peace comes."

This is the spirit of the awakened French industry. I know of half a dozen automobile and other producing establishments who are making plans to manufacture popular-priced cars when the war is over. This output will not only affect the sale of American cars in France, but will also interfere with the market for our cheap machines in South America.

Already France is making every effort to increase her Latin-American trade. She has immense sums of money invested in Brazil and she will follow up this advantage keenly.

It is important for us to remember that France like England will have a well oiled productive machine after the war. It will not only be better but bigger than ever before. The German ill wind that devastated the northern section will blow good in the end. Hundreds of factories operated by hand labour before the war will now be equipped with American labour-saving machinery. The products of these machines operated by cheap labour will be in compet.i.tion with our own commodities manufactured by more expensive labour in many of the markets of the world.

Formerly the French artisan could produce an article almost from raw material to finished product: now he has learned to stand at an automatic and labour at a single part. In short, he is becoming a specialist which makes him a cog in the machine of quant.i.ty output.

What is true of machines and men is also true of money. The old wariness of the French banker in underwriting industry is pa.s.sing away. He is thinking in terms of large figures and vast projects.

I could cite many examples of the new Gospel of French Self-Supply.

Before the war France manufactured lathes that were beautiful examples of art and precision. The firms that made them were old and solid and took infinite pride in their product. Now they realise that output must dominate. A simple type of machine has been chosen as model and will henceforth be made in large quant.i.ties.

Then there is the sewing machine. Before the war two groups--Anglo-American and German--controlled the French market. By the ingenious use of export premiums, the Germans had the best of it.

"Why always pay tribute to strangers?" now asks the French housewife. So far as Germany is concerned, this question is already settled. But the American sewing machine will have to struggle for its existence hereafter in France, for plans have been made for at least three huge factories for its production.

Striking evidence of the growing French industrial independence of Germany is her advance in crucible making. For years Sevres vied with Limoges for ceramic honours. To-day the vast plant which once produced the most exquisite and delicate ware in the world is now producing the less lovely but more serviceable crucibles, condensers and retorts necessary for the distillation of the powerful acid used in modern high explosives. Previous to the war, the Central Empire had a monopoly on this market. Indeed, much of the pottery and gla.s.sware used in laboratories and chemical factories was made in Bohemia and marketed by Germany. Now the Sevres plant is shipping these goods to England and Russia.

So, too, with dye stuffs. A whole new French colouring industry is being created. A Societe d'Etude has been formed to make a scientific survey and this will be replaced by a National Company to undertake the manufacture of all coal tar products.

The use of a certain number of new war factories has been guaranteed to the company by the Minister of War. Typical of the purpose which will animate the enterprise is one of the articles of the National Company which provides that the Director of the Dye Stuff Industry must be of French birth. An agreement has also been made with England and Italy to protect the colour output of the three countries with a high tariff after the war. Here you find one tangible evidence of the working out of the Paris Economic Pact.

Even while the invader's hand still lies heavy upon the land, France looks ahead to reconstruction. Last summer Paris flocked to a graphic exhibition of how to rebuild a destroyed city. It was called La Cite Reconst.i.tue, and was held in the Tuileries Garden. Here you could see the modern way of making a Phoenix rise quickly out of the ashes. There were model schoolhouses, churches, factories, and cottages, all with standardised parts which could be thrown together in an almost incredibly short time.

With Self-Sufficiency has come a desire for new business knowledge. Not long ago an American business man who has lived in Paris for many years, received a letter from a young French friend in the trenches at Verdun.

The soldier wrote:

"I realise that when this war is over we must be better equipped than ever before to meet world business compet.i.tion. I want to be a better salesman. Please send me some books on American salesmanship and also some of the American trade papers. I have begun the study of Spanish because I believe we are going to have our part in the Latin-American trade." Here was a young Frenchman risking his life every moment in one of the greatest battles the world has ever known: yet in the midst of death he was looking forward to a new business life.

The whole att.i.tude of the Frenchman toward life has undergone a change, first under the stress of ruthless war, and under the spur of his kindling desire for rehabilitation. Formerly, for example, the French loathed to travel. When he knew he was going away on a journey, he spent a month telling his relatives good-bye. Now he packs his bag and is off in an hour to Lyon, Ma.r.s.eilles, Bordeaux, or any other place where business might dictate.

The new and efficient French industrial machine is not the only factor that American business in France must reckon with after the war. The French woman is fast becoming a force, thus setting up an altogether unequal and almost unfair compet.i.tion, because to shrewd wit and resource is added the power of s.e.x and beauty.

In France, as most people know, the woman exerts an enormous influence, regardless of her social cla.s.s. In all regulated bourgeois families the wife holds the purse strings; in the small shops she keeps the cash and runs things generally. No average Frenchman would think of embarking on any sort of enterprise without first talking it over with his _femme_, who is also his partner. This team work lies at the root of all French thrift.

The woman of the lower cla.s.s has met the grim emergency of war with sacrifice and courage. Not only has she faced the loss of those most dear with uncomplaining lips, but she has taken her man's place everywhere. You can see her standing Amazon-like in leather ap.r.o.n pouring molten metal in the sh.e.l.l factory; she drives you in a cab or a taxi; she runs the train and takes the tickets in the Underground: in short, she has become a whole new a.s.set in the human wealth of the nation and as such she will help to make up for the inevitable shortage of men.

Her sister of the upper cla.s.s, at once the most practical and most feminine of her s.e.x, is also doing her bit. She is the lovely thorn in the path of the American business promoter in France.

Before the war, it was rare to find this type of woman competing with men in outside business affairs, although her influence has always counted immensely in official life where she pulls the strings to get husband or lover Government preferment or concession.

Since the war, however, necessity has sharply developed her latent business qualities. Now it is not unusual to find her in direct compet.i.tion, using all those delightful charms with which Nature has endowed her. This is especially true of widows and women whose husbands are at the front. They often rely more upon persuasion than upon any technical or practical knowledge. One reason why they succeed is their almost uncanny knowledge of men. And this often enables them to grasp swiftly the clue that business opportunity offers.

One night at dinner a Colonel's widow, a gracious and beguiling lady, heard that the French Government was in the market for 50,000 head of cattle. The next morning she sent half a dozen cables to South America, got options, and in three days her formal bid was at the War Office.

Within a week she had the contract.

I know of a case of the wife of a Colonel at the front, who heard one day at lunch that the War Office needed 50,000 sacks of flour for the army at Saloniki. That same day she put the matter before some American brokers in Paris, who wired to their New York firm and received the usual American reply: "Am not interested in the French trade now. Will wait until after the war."

With the utmost difficulty the woman was able to secure 10,000 sacks by way of Italy and Switzerland. She is not likely to seek American sources of supply soon again.

An American got a tip one day that a certain contract for machine tools was available. He had an appointment for lunch, so he said to himself: "Why hurry? These French people are slow. I'll get busy this afternoon or to-morrow."

When he went to the establishment in question the next day, he found that an exquisitely gowned woman had just preceded him; indeed, the fragrance of the perfume she used still hovered about the outer office.

The man cooled his heels for half an hour when the lovely feminine vision flashed by him going out. He started to make his selling talk to the Purchasing Agent, who said, at the first opening:

"I am extremely sorry, Monsieur, but we have just closed the contract with Madam Blank who left a few moments ago."

The New France has brought forth a New Woman!

Through all the organised approach to Self-Sufficiency and Economic Rehabilitation, France has not lost sight of her grudge against the Germans. Indeed, no phase of her business life to-day is more picturesque than the campaign now in full swing not only against Teutonic trade, but against any resumption of commercial relation with the hated enemy across the Rhine. Right here you get a striking difference between English and French methods. While Britain takes out some of her enmity against German trade in eloquent conversation, France has gone about it in a practical way, shot through with all the colour and imagination that only the French could employ upon such procedure.

Preliminary to this campaign was a characteristic episode. Almost with the flareup of war, the French mind turned sentimentally to those fateful early Seventies when Germany in the flush of her great victory seized the fruits of that triumph. Some of those fruits were embodied in the famous Treaty of Frankfort in which the Teuton clamped the mailed fist down on every favoured French trade relation.

The war automatically annulled this treaty, and although the nation was in the first throes of a struggle that threatened existence, it celebrated the revocation in characteristic fashion. Millions of copies of the Frankfort Treaty were printed and sold on the streets of Paris and elsewhere. The excited Frenchman rushed up and down brandishing his copy and saying: "Now we will ram this treaty down the throat of the Boche!"

This emotional prelude was now followed by a definite crusade for the elimination of German goods. Anti-German societies were formed all over the country. Backing these up are dozens of other formidable organisations, such as Chambers of Commerce and Business Clubs. Typical of the campaign is the formation of a Buyers' League which is intended to a.s.semble all persons who will take a resolution never to buy a German product and be satisfied for the remainder of their lives with the French manufactured article.