Naturalization procedure is a complex process involving a dozen different steps from the time the alien enters the country until he finally receives his order of admission from the court. In recent months, considerable attention has been given it in the hope that part of the red tape and resulting delay may be obviated. Criticism of red tape and useless steps in the procedure has been widespread. As a student of the administrative process, I tried, during my period of service in the Department of Justice, to devote as much time as possible to improvement and simplification of naturalization, and in this I was encouraged by the Attorney General and other officials of the Department. In my treatment of this subject, the analysis and recommendations are primarily the result of my own thinking and analysis, but it can also be said that on the general approach, all of us in the Department who were concerned with this problem saw eye to eye. In the study of administrative procedure and the determination upon improvements, we in Washington have been greatly assisted by the administrative studies of the National Council on Naturalization and Citizenship.

Before we can deal intelligently with administrative analyses and recommendations, we must make up our minds as to the results we are trying to achieve. I am one of those who think that administration cannot be intelligently considered apart from the social problems and objectives which it subserves; for if it is so considered, it is almost sure to fall wide of the mark. What kind of citizenship are we interested in producing? Some of the most important administrative determinations to be made depend upon the answer given to this question.

The area of small nations between the Baltic and the Mediterranean has always been exposed to the rivalries and pressures of the Great Powers, due to its strategic and commercial importance, and because of its location on crossroads of conflicting cultures, religions, political and economic systems. A like situation might again arise at the end of the present war when the peasant peoples of these regions find themselves faced with the growing strength of the Soviet socialism and an expanding Western capitalism, whose application of the principles of the Atlantic Charter and of the Four Freedoms might widely differ. The problem of reconstruction of this part of Europe should be examined, therefore, from the point of view of the possibility of reorganizing this zone of perennial friction and insecurity into a politically and economically balanced and stabilized unit, and into a constructive link between the two diverse worlds of ideas and of institutional practices.

The internal political difficulties of these countries, from Poland to Greece, have in the main resulted from the incompatibility of the feudal-like régimes with the growing political activation of the people. The states formed on the ruins of the Austro-Hungarian Empire inherited many of its feudal characteristics. In Poland, a military group, landed gentry, and state officials, supported by the Church hierarchy, ruled the country, while the parliament and the written constitution existed only nominally. In Hungary, the landed magnates and gentry were the actual ruling classes, and in Austria medieval scholasticism and clericalism were the ideological and political agents behind the authoritarian régime. Of all succession states, Czechoslovakia alone seemed superficially free of feudal remnants, because this industrially advanced country had an independent and liberal bourgeois class.

It is right that post-war planning should be made the subject of popular discussion. It is, on the whole, a healthy sign that so many books and articles are devoted to the winning of the peace, although some of them indubitably create a smoke screen of confusion. The same applies to committees and other organizations for the same purpose. These committees and their statements have two things in common: innumerable and inconclusive quotations from democratic leaders and illustrations drawn from the “success” of, or “failure” of, the League of Nations.

The “Four Freedoms,” the “Atlantic Charter,” the “Declaration of the United Nations,” as well as other speeches, articles, and statements of all sorts are vague and all-comprising. They give ample scope for divergent interpretations. It should also be remembered that President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill, important though their utterances are, speak for themselves. They cannot bind Congress or Parliament, although it is true that the British Parliament feels a strong loyalty to the leader of the nation.

These two characteristics of the declarations of program give great scope to the professors, diplomats, politicians, journalists, and other prophets who dream of the future. Those of the soberer cast of mind try not to indulge in the luxury of day dreams. They realize that the future must be built on the experience of the past. They ask searching questions about the League.

Canada has recently instituted a significant war-time fiscal plan. As a federal state, the Dominion has been plagued by the complicated problems of federal finance; and to meet the severe burdens of war finance, it has found it necessary to simplify the federal financial structure. This change has been accomplished by formal agreements between the Dominion and the provinces whereby the latter have agreed to retire from certain fields of taxation for the duration of the war.

The agreements do not require amendment of the British North America Act (1867), but they do necessitate abstinence of the provinces from exercising a portion of their authority under it. By the terms of that fundamental law, the provinces are authorized to levy “direct taxation within the province in order to the raising of a revenue for provincial purposes” and “shop, saloon, tavern, auctioneer, and other licenses in order to the raising of a revenue for provincial, local, or municipal purposes.” The Dominion, however, is granted the power to raise revenue by “any mode or system of taxation.” Under this distribution of tax authority, it was natural that various sources should eventually be taxed by both the Dominion and the provinces. By 1940, not only the provinces and the Dominion, but also in some instances municipalities, were levying income and corporate taxes. Inasmuch as the rates varied from province to province and from municipality to municipality, there was inequality of the tax burden throughout the Dominion. In order to secure a maximum of revenue for war purposes, the Dominion government deemed it necessary to tax corporations and incomes at the same rate throughout Canada; and for this reason, the government requested the provinces (and municipalities) to retire from these fields of taxation for the war period.

The future of South Eastern Asia and the Philippines is one of the most complicated problems with which the peace settlement will have to grapple. There is a certain broad similarity between the countries concerned which is likely to be a trap for the unwary. It seems so simple to set up free and democratic governments, to equip and train citizen armies to defend their independence, and to raise the standard of living. It also seems reasonable to assume that if the 145,000,000 people of South Eastern Asia and the Philippines could be federated, their combined resources would go a long way towards enabling them to maintain their independence.

Unfortunately, deep-seated differences based on race, religion, and history are the dominating influences, and overshadow the similarities of strategic and economic weakness and lack of independence. Disunion bids fair to increase as a result of the nationalism which is beginning to appear. The Burmese regard themselves as a master race, and have an inflated sense of their own power and superiority because of their former conquests in Thailand and Assam. The Thais have something of the same feelings towards the Malays and the Cambodians of Indo-China. One reason why the Malays asked the British to establish a protectorate over the peninsula was to safeguard their independence against Thai ambitions. This fear and hostility have been strengthened by Thai annexation in 1943 of four of the nine Malay States, and a claim to most of the others. The Malays, Indonesians, and Filipinos come from the same racial stock, but so far as the latter are concerned, centuries of divergent development have made the differences more important than the similarity in racial characteristics which is noticeable among the three peoples.