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Title: Peace Theories and the Balkan War

Author: Norman Angell

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[Date last updated: Jan 29, 2006]

Language: English

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PEACE THEORIES AND THE BALKAN WAR


BY

NORMAN ANGELL


Author of "The Great Illusion"


1912




PEACE THEORIES AND THE BALKAN WAR

By NORMAN ANGELL,

Author of "The Great Illusion."

1912




THE TEXT OF THIS BOOK.


Whether we blame the belligerents or criticise the powers, or sit in
sackcloth and ashes ourselves is absolutely of no consequence at the
present moment....

We have sometimes been assured by persons who profess to know that
the danger of war has become an illusion.... Well, here is a war
which has broken out in spite of all that rulers and diplomatists
could do to prevent it, a war in which the Press has had no part, a
war which the whole force of the money power has been subtly and
steadfastly directed to prevent, which has come upon us, not through
the ignorance or credulity of the people, but, on the contrary,
through their knowledge of their history and their destiny, and
through their intense realisation of their wrongs and of their
duties, as they conceived them, a war which from all these causes
has burst upon us with all the force of a spontaneous explosion, and
which in strife and destruction has carried all before it. Face to
face with this manifestation, who is the man bold enough to say that
force is never a remedy? Who is the man who is foolish enough to say
that martial virtues do not play a vital part in the health and
honour of every people? (Cheers.) Who is the man who is vain enough
to suppose that the long antagonisms of history and of time can in
all circumstances be adjusted by the smooth and superficial
conventions of politicians and ambassadors?--MR. WINSTON CHURCHILL
at Sheffield.

Mr. Norman Angell's theory was one to enable the citizens of this
country to sleep quietly, and to lull into false security the
citizens of all great countries. That is undoubtedly the reason why
he met with so much success.... It was a very comfortable theory for
those nations which have grown rich and whose ideals and initiative
have been sapped by over much prosperity. But the great delusion of
Norman Angell, which led to the writing of "The Great Illusion," has
been dispelled for ever by the Balkan League. In this connection it
is of value to quote the words of Mr. Winston Churchill, which give
very adequately the reality as opposed to theory.--_The Review of
Reviews_, from an article on "The Débâcle of Norman Angell."

And an odd score of like pronouncements from newspapers and public men
since the outbreak of the Balkan War.

The interrogations they imply have been put definitely in the first
chapter of this book; the replies to those questions summarised in that
chapter and elaborated in the others.




_The "key" to this book and the summary of its arguments are contained
in Chapter I. (pp. 7-12)_




CONTENTS.


I. The Questions and their Answers

II. "Peace" and "War" in the Balkans

III. Economic Causes in the Balkan War

IV. Turkish Ideals in our Political Thought

V. Our Responsibility for Balkan Wars

VI. Pacifism, Defence, and the "Impossibility of War"

VII. "Theories" False and True; their Role in European Politics

VIII. What Shall we DO?




CHAPTER I.

THE QUESTIONS AND THEIR ANSWER.


CHAPTER II.

"PEACE" AND "WAR" IN THE BALKANS.

"Peace" in the Balkans under the Turkish System--The inadequacy of our
terms--The repulsion of the Turkish invasion--The Christian effort to
bring the reign of force and conquest to an end--The difference between
action designed to settle relationship on force and counter action
designed to prevent such settlement--The force of the policeman and the
force of the brigand--The failure of conquest as exemplified by the
Turk--Will the Balkan peoples prove Pacifist or Bellicist; adopt the
Turkish or the Christian System?


CHAPTER III.

ECONOMICS AND THE BALKAN WAR.

The "economic system" of the Turk--The Turkish "Trade of Conquest" as a
cause of this war--Racial and Religious hatred of primitive
societies--Industrialism as a solvent--Its operation in Europe--Balkans
geographically remote from main drift of European economic
development--The false economies of the Powers as a cause of their
jealousies and quarrels--- This has prevented settlement--What is the
"economic motive"?--Impossible to separate moral and
material--Nationality and the War System.


CHAPTER IV.

TURKISH IDEALS IN OUR POLITICAL THOUGHT.

This war and "the Turks of Britain and Prussia"--The Anglo-Saxon and
opposed ideals--Mr. C. Chesterton's case for "killing and being killed"
as the best method of settling differences--Its application to Civil
Conflicts--As in Spanish-America--The difference between Devonshire and
Venezuela--Will the Balkans adopt the Turco-Venezuelan political ideals
or the British?


CHAPTER V.

OUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR BALKAN WARS.

Mr. Winston Churchill on the "Responsibility" of Diplomacy--What does he
mean?--An easy (and popular) philosophy--Can we neglect past if we would
avoid future errors?--British temper and policy in the Crimean War--What
are its lessons?--Why we fought a war to sustain the "integrity and
independence of the Turkish dominion in Europe"--Supporting the Turk
against his Christian victims--From fear of Russian growth which we are
now aiding--The commentary of events--Shall we back the wrong horse
again?


CHAPTER VI.

PACIFISM, DEFENCE, AND "THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF WAR."

Did the Crimean War prove Bright and Cobden wrong?--Our curious
reasoning--Mr. Churchill on "illusions"--The danger of war is not the
illusion but its benefits--We are all Pacifists now since we all desire
Peace--Will more armaments alone secure it?--The experience of
mankind--War "the failure of human wisdom"--Therefore more wisdom is the
remedy--But the Militarists only want more arms--The German Lord
Roberts--The military campaign against political Rationalism--How to
make war certain.


CHAPTER VII.

"THEORIES" FALSE AND TRUE: THEIR ROLE IN EUROPEAN PROGRESS.

The improvement of ideas the foundation of all improvement--Shooting
straight and thinking straight; the one as important as the
other--Pacifism and the Millennium--How we got rid of wars of
religion--A few ideas have changed the face of the world--The simple
ideas the most important--The "theories" which have led to war--The work
of the reformer to destroy old and false theories--The intellectual
interdependence of nations--Europe at unity in this matter--New ideas
cannot be confined to one people--No fear of ourselves or any nation
being ahead of the rest.


CHAPTER VIII.

WHAT MUST WE _DO_?

We must have the right political faith--Then we must give effect to
it--Good intention not enough--The organization of the great forces of
modern life--Our indifference as to the foundations of the evil--The
only hope.




CHAPTER I.

THE QUESTIONS AND THEIR ANSWER.


What has Pacifism, Old or New, to say now?

Is War impossible?

Is it unlikely?

Is it futile?

Is not force a remedy, and at times the only remedy?

Could any remedy have been devised on the whole so conclusive and
complete as that used by the Balkan peoples?

Have not the Balkan peoples redeemed War from the charges too readily
brought against it as simply an instrument of barbarism?

Have questions of profit and loss, economic considerations, anything
whatever to do with this war?

Would the demonstration of its economic futility have kept the peace?

Are theories and logic of the slightest use, since force alone can
determine the issue?

Is not war therefore inevitable, and must we not prepare diligently for
it? I will answer all these questions quite simply and directly without
casuistry and logic-chopping, and honestly desiring to avoid paradox and
"cleverness." And these quite simple answers will not be in
contradiction with anything that I have written, nor will they
invalidate any of the principles I have attempted to explain.

And my answers may be summarised thus:--

(1) This war has justified both the Old Pacifism and the New. By
universal admission events have proved that the Pacifists who opposed
the Crimean War were right and their opponents wrong. Had public opinion
given more consideration to those Pacifist principles, this country
would not have "backed the wrong horse," and this war, two wars which
have preceded it, and many of the abominations of which the Balkan
peninsular has been the scene during the last 60 years might have been
avoided, and in any case Great Britain would not now carry upon her
shoulders the responsibility of having during half a century supported
the Turk against the Christian and of having tried uselessly to prevent
what has now taken place--the break-up of the Turk's rule in Europe.

(2) War is not impossible, and no responsible Pacifist ever said it was;
it is not the likelihood of war which is the illusion, but its benefits.

(3) It is likely or unlikely according as the parties to a dispute are
guided by wisdom or folly.

(4) It _is_ futile; and force is no remedy.

(5) Its futility is proven by the war waged daily by the Turks as
conquerors, during the last 400 years. And because the Balkan peoples
have chosen the less evil of two kinds of war, and will use their
victory to bring a system based on force and conquest to an end, we who
do not believe in force and conquest rejoice in their action, and
believe it will achieve immense benefits. But if instead of using their
victory to eliminate force, they in their turn pin their faith to it,
continue to use it the one against the other, exploiting by its means
the populations they rule, and become not the organisers of social
co-operation among the Balkan populations, but merely, like the Turks,
their conquerors and "owners," then they in their turn will share the
fate of the Turk.

(6) The fundamental causes of this war are economic in the narrower, as
well as in the larger sense of the term; in the first because conquest
was the Turk's only trade--he desired to live out of taxes wrung from a
conquered people, to exploit them as a means of livelihood, and this
conception was at the bottom of most of Turkish misgovernment. And in
the larger sense its cause is economic because in the Balkans, remote
geographically from the main drift of European economic development,
there has not grown up that interdependent social life, the innumerable
contacts which in the rest of Europe have done so much to attenuate
primitive religious and racial hatreds.

(7) A better understanding by the Turk of the real nature of civilised
government, of the economic futility of conquest of the fact that a
means of livelihood (an economic system), based upon having more force
than someone else and using it ruthlessly against him, is an impossible
form of human relationship bound to break down, _would_ have kept the
peace.

(Cool If European statecraft had not been animated by false conceptions,
largely economic in origin, based upon a belief in the necessary rivalry
of states, the advantages of preponderant force and conquest, the
Western nations could have composed their quarrels and ended the
abominations of the Balkan peninsula long ago--even in the opinion of
the _Times_. And it is our own false statecraft--that of Great
Britain--which has a large part of the responsibility for this failure
of European civilisation. It has caused us to sustain the Turk in
Europe, to fight a great and popular war with that aim, and led us into
treaties which had they been kept, would have obliged us to fight to-day
on the side of the Turk against the Balkan States.

(9) If by "theories" and "logic" is meant the discussion of and interest
in principles, the ideas that govern human relationship, they are the
only things that can prevent future wars, just as they were the only
things that brought religious wars to an end--a preponderant power
"imposing" peace playing no role therein. Just as it was false religious
theories which made the religious wars, so it is false political
theories which make the political wars.

(10) War is only inevitable in the sense that other forms of error and
passion--religious persecution for instance--are inevitable; they cease
with better understanding, as the attempt to impose religious belief by
force has ceased in Europe.

(11) We should not prepare for war; we should prepare to prevent war;
and though that preparation may include battleships and conscription,
those elements will quite obviously make the tension and danger greater
unless there is also a better European opinion.

These summarised replies need a little expansion.



CHAPTER II.

"PEACE" AND "WAR" IN THE BALKANS.

"Peace" in the Balkans under the Turkish System--The inadequacy of our
terms--The repulsion of the Turkish invasion--The Christian effort to
bring the reign of force and conquest to an end--The difference between
action designed to settle relationship on force and counter action
designed to prevent such settlement--The force of the policeman and the
force of the brigand--The failure of conquest as exemplified by the
Turk--Will the Balkan peoples prove Pacifist or Bellicist; adopt the
Turkish or the Christian System?


Had we thrashed out the question of war and peace as we must finally, it
would hardly be necessary to explain that the apparent paradox in Answer
No. 4 (that war is futile, and that this war will have immense benefits)
is due to the inadequacy of our language, which compels us to use the
same word for two opposed purposes, not to any real contradiction of
fact.

We called the condition of the Balkan peninsula "Peace" until the other
day, merely because the respective Ambassadors still happened to be
resident in the capitals to which they were accredited.

Let us see what "Peace" under Turkish rule really meant, and who is the
real invader in this war. Here is a very friendly and impartial
witness--Sir Charles Elliot--who paints for us the character of the
Turk as an "administrator":--

"The Turk in Europe has an overweening sense of his superiority,
and remains a nation apart, mixing little with the conquered
populations, whose customs and ideas he tolerates, but makes little
effort to understand. The expression indeed, 'Turkey in Europe'
means indeed no more than 'England in Asia,' if used as a
designation for India.... The Turks have done little to assimilate
the people whom they have conquered, and still less, been
assimilated by them. In the larger part of the Turkish dominions,
the Turks themselves are in a minority.... The Turks certainly
resent the dismemberment of their Empire, but not in the sense in
which the French resent the conquest of Alsace-Lorraine by Germany.
They would never use the word 'Turkey' or even its oriental
equivalent, 'The High Country' in ordinary conversation. They would
never say that Syria and Greece are parts of Turkey which have been
detached, but merely that they are tributaries which have become
independent, provinces once occupied by Turks where there are no
Turks now. As soon as a province passes under another Government,
the Turks find it the most natural thing in the world to leave it
and go somewhere else. In the same spirit the Turk talks quite
pleasantly of leaving Constantinople some day, he will go over to
Asia and found another capital. One can hardly imagine Englishmen
speaking like that of London, but they might conceivably speak so
of Calcutta.... The Turk is a conqueror and nothing else. The
history of the Turk is a catalogue of battles. His contributions to
art, literature, science and religion, are practically nil. Their
desire has not been to instruct, to improve, hardly even to govern,
but simply to conquer.... The Turk makes nothing at all; he takes
whatever he can get, as plunder or pillage. He lives in the houses
which he finds, or which he orders to be built for him. In
unfavourable circumstances he is a marauder. In favourable, a
_Grand Seigneur_ who thinks it his right to enjoy with grace and
dignity all that the world can hold, but who will not lower himself
by engaging in art, literature, trade or manufacture. Why should
he, when there are other people to do these things for him. Indeed,
it may be said that he takes from others even his religion,
clothes, language, customs; there is hardly anything which is
Turkish and not borrowed. The religion is Arabic; the language half
Arabic and Persian; the literature almost entirely imitative; the
art Persian or Byzantine; the costumes, in the Upper Classes and
Army mostly European. There is nothing characteristic in
manufacture or commerce, except an aversion to such pursuits. In
fact, all occupations, except agriculture and military service are
distasteful to the true Osmanli. He is not much of a merchant. He
may keep a stall in a bazaar, but his operations are rarely
undertaken on a scale which merits the name of commerce or finance.
It is strange to observe how, when trade becomes active in any
seaport, or upon the railway lines, the Osmanli retires and
disappears, while Greeks, Armenians and Levantines thrive in his
place. Neither does he much affect law, medicine or the learned
professions. Such callings are followed by Moslims but they are apt
to be of non-Turkish race. But though he does none of these things
... the Turk is a soldier. The moment a sword or rifle is put into
his hands, he instinctively knows how to use it with effect, and
feels at home in the ranks or on a horse. The Turkish Army is not
so much a profession or an institution necessitated by the fears
and aims of the Government as the quite normal state of the Turkish
nation.... Every Turk is a born soldier, and adopts other pursuits
chiefly because times are bad. When there is a question of
fighting, if only in a riot, the stolid peasant wakes up and shows
surprising power of finding organisation and expedients, and alas!
a surprising ferocity. The ordinary Turk is an honest and
good-humoured soul, kind to children and animals, and very patient;
but when the fighting spirit comes on him, he becomes like the
terrible warriors of the Huns or Henghis Khan, and slays, burns and
ravages without mercy or discrimination."[1]

Such is the verdict of an instructed, travelled and observant English
author and diplomatist, who lived among these people for many years, and
who learned to like them, who studied them and their history. It does
not differ, of course, appreciably, from what practically every student
of the Turk has discovered: the Turk is the typical conqueror. As a
nation, he has lived by the sword, and he is dying by the sword, because
the sword, the mere exercise of force by one man or group of men upon
another, conquest in other words, is an impossible form of human
relationship.

And in order to maintain this evil form of relationship--its evil and
futility is the whole basis of the principles I have attempted to
illustrate--he has not even observed the rough chivalry of the brigand.
The brigand, though he might knock men on the head, will refrain from
having his force take the form of butchering women and disembowelling
children. Not so the Turk. His attempt at Government will take the form
of the obscene torture of children, of a bestial ferocity which is not a
matter of dispute or exaggeration, but a thing to which scores,
hundreds, thousands even of credible European, witnesses have testified.
"The finest gentleman, sir, that ever butchered a woman or burned a
village," is the phrase that _Punch_ most justly puts into the mouth of
the defender of our traditional Turcophil policy.

And this condition is "Peace," and the act which would put a stop to it
is "War." It is the inexactitude and inadequacy of our language which
creates much of the confusion of thought in this matter; we have the
same term for action destined to achieve a given end and for a
counter-action destined to prevent it.

Yet we manage, in other than the international field, in civil matters,
to make the thing clear enough.

Once an American town was set light to by incendiaries, and was
threatened with destruction. In order to save at least a part of it, the
authorities deliberately burned down a block of buildings in the pathway
of the fire. Would those incendiaries be entitled to say that the town
authorities were incendiaries also, and "believed in setting light to
towns?" Yet this is precisely the point of view of those who tax
Pacifists with approving war because they approve the measure aimed at
bringing it to an end.

Put it another way. You do not believe that force should determine the
transfer of property or conformity to a creed, and I say to you: "Hand
me your purse and conform to my creed or I kill you." You say: "Because
I do not believe that force should settle these matters, I shall try and
prevent it settling them, and therefore if you attack I shall resist; if
I did not I should be allowing force to settle them." I attack; you
resist and disarm me and say: "My force having neutralised yours, and
the equilibrium being now established, I will hear any reasons you may
have to urge for my paying you money; or any argument in favour of your
creed. Reason, understanding, adjustment shall settle it." You would be
a Pacifist. Or, if you deem that that word connotes non-resistance,
though to the immense bulk of Pacifists it does not, you would be an
anti-Bellicist to use a dreadful word coined by M. Emile Faguet in the
discussion of this matter. If, however, you said: "Having disarmed you
and established the equilibrium, I shall now upset it in my favour by
taking your weapon and using it against you unless you hand me _your_
purse and subscribe to _my_ creed. I do this because force alone can
determine issues, and because it is a law of life that the strong should
eat up the weak." You would then be a Bellicist.

In the same way, when we prevent the brigand from carrying on his
trade--taking wealth by force--it is not because we believe in force as
a means of livelihood, but precisely because we do not. And if, in
preventing the brigand from knocking out brains, we are compelled to
knock out his brains, is it because we believe in knocking out people's
brains? Or would we urge that to do so is the way to carry on a trade,
or a nation, or a government, or make it the basis of human
relationship?

In every civilised country, the basis of the relationship on which the
community rests is this: no individual is allowed to settle his
differences with another by force. But does this mean that if one
threatens to take my purse, I am not allowed to use force to prevent it?
That if he threatens to kill me, I am not to defend myself, because "the
individual citizens are not allowed to settle their differences by
force?" It is _because_ of that, because the act of self-defence is an
attempt to prevent the settlement of a difference by force, that the law
justifies it.[2]

But the law would not justify me, if having disarmed my opponent, having
neutralised his force by my own, and re-established the social
equilibrium, I immediately proceeded to upset it, by asking him for his
purse on pain of murder. I should then be settling the matter by
force--I should then have ceased to be a Pacifist, and have become a
Bellicist.

For that is the difference between the two conceptions: the Bellicist
says: "Force alone can settle these matters; it is the final appeal;
therefore fight it out. Let the best man win. When you have preponderant
strength, impose your view; force the other man to your will; not
because it is right, but because you are able to do so." It is the
"excellent policy" which Lord Roberts attributes to Germany and
approves.

We anti-Bellicists take an exactly contrary view. We say: "To fight it
out settles nothing, since it is not a question of who is stronger, but
of whose view is best, and as that is not always easy to establish, it
is of the utmost importance in the interest of all parties, in the long
run, to keep force out of it."

The former is the policy of the Turks. They have been obsessed with the
idea that if only they had enough of physical force, ruthlessly
exercised, they could solve the whole question of government, of
existence for that matter, without troubling about social adjustment,
understanding, equity, law, commerce; "blood and iron" were all that was
needed. The success of that policy can now be judged.

And whether good or evil comes of the present war will depend upon
whether the Balkan States are on the whole guided by the Bellicist
principle or the opposed one. If having now momentarily eliminated force
as between themselves, they re-introduce it, if the strongest,
presumably Bulgaria, adopts Lord Roberts' "excellent policy" of striking
because she has the preponderant force, enters upon a career of conquest
of other members of the Balkan League, and the populations of the
conquered territories, using them for exploitation by military
force--why then there will be no settlement and this war will have
accomplished nothing save futile waste and slaughter. For they will have
taken under a new flag, the pathway of the Turk to savagery,
degeneration, death.

But if on the other hand they are guided more by the Pacifist principle,
if they believe that co-operation between States is better than conflict
between them, if they believe that the common interest of all in good
Government is greater than the special interest of any one in conquest,
that the understanding of human relationships, the capacity for the
organisation of society are the means by which men progress, and not the
imposition of force by one man or group upon another, why, they will
have taken the pathway to better civilisation. But then they will have
disregarded Lord Roberts' advice.

And this distinction between the two systems, far from being a matter of
abstract theory of metaphysics or logic chopping, is just the difference
which distinguishes the Briton from the Turk, which distinguishes
Britain from Turkey. The Turk has just as much physical vigour as the
Briton, is just as virile, manly and military. The Turk has the same raw
materials of Nature, soil and water. There is no difference in the
capacity for the exercise of physical force--or if there is, the
difference is in favour of the Turk. The real difference is a difference
of ideas, of mind and outlook on the part of the individuals composing
the respective societies; the Turk has one general conception of human
society and the code and principles upon which it is founded, mainly a
militarist one; and the Englishman has another, mainly a Pacifist one.
And whether the European society as a whole is to drift towards the
Turkish ideal or towards the English ideal will depend upon whether it
is animated mainly by the Pacifist or mainly by the Bellicist doctrine;
if the former, it will stagger blindly like the Turk along the path to
barbarism; if the latter, it will take a better road.

[Footnote 1: "Turkey in Europe," pp. 88-9 and 91-2.

It is significant, by the way, that the "born soldier" has now been
crushed by a non-military race whom he has always despised as having no
military tradition. Capt. F.W. von Herbert ("Bye Paths in the Balkans")
wrote (some years before the present war): "The Bulgars as Christian
subjects of Turkey exempt from military service, have tilled the ground
under stagnant and enfeebling peace conditions, and the profession of
arms is new to them."

"Stagnant and enfeebling peace conditions" is, in view of subsequent
events distinctly good.]

[Footnote 2: I dislike to weary the reader with such damnable iteration,
but when a Cabinet Minister is unable in this discussion to distinguish
between the folly of a thing and its possibility, one _must_ make the
fundamental point clear.]




CHAPTER III.

ECONOMICS AND THE BALKAN WAR.

The "economic system" of the Turk--The Turkish "Trade of Conquest" as a
cause of this war--Racial and Religious hatred of primitive
societies--Industrialism as a solvent--Its operation in Europe--Balkans
geographically remote from main drift of European economic
development--The false economies of the Powers as a cause of their
jealousies and quarrels--This has prevented settlement--What is the
"economic motive"?--Impossible to separate moral and
material--Nationality and the War System.


In dealing with answer No. 4 I have shown how the inadequacy of our
language leads us so much astray in our notions of the real role of
force in human relationships. But there is a curious phenomenon of
thought which explains perhaps still more how misconceptions grow up on
this subject, and that is the habit of thinking of a war which, of
course, must include two parties, in terms, solely of one party at a time.
Thus one critic[3] is quite sure that because the Balkan peoples "recked
nothing of financial disaster," economic considerations have had nothing
to do with their war--a conclusion which seems to be arrived at by the
process of judgment just indicated: to find the cause of condition
produced by two parties you shall rigorously ignore one. For there is a
great deal of internal evidence for believing that the writer of the
article in question would admit very readily that the efforts of the
Turk to wring taxes out of the conquered peoples--not in return for a
civilized administration but simply as the means of livelihood, of
turning conquest into a trade--had a very great deal to do in explaining
the Turk's presence there at all and the Christian's desire to get rid
of him; while the same article specifically states that the mutual
jealousies of the great powers, based on a desire to "grab" (an economic
motive), had a great deal to do with preventing a peaceful settlement of
the difficulties. Yet "economics" have nothing to do with it!

I have attempted elsewhere to make these two points--that it is on the
one hand the false economics of the Turks, and on the other hand the
false economics of the powers of Europe, colouring the policy and
Statecraft of both, which have played an enormous, in all human
probability, a determining role in the immediate provoking cause of the
war; and, of course, a further and more remote cause of the whole
difficulty is the fact that the Balkan peoples never having been
subjected to the discipline of that complex social life which arises
from trade and commerce have never grown out of (or to a less degree)
those primitive racial and religious hostilities which at one time in
Europe as a whole provoked conflicts like that now raging in the
Balkans. The following article which appeared[4] at the outbreak of the
war may summarise some of the points with which we have been dealing.

Polite and good-natured people think it rude to say "Balkans" if a
Pacifist be present. Yet I never understood why, and I understand now
less than ever. It carries the implication that because war has broken
out that fact disposes of all objection to it. The armies are at grips,
therefore peace is a mistake. Passion reigns on the Balkans, therefore
passion is preferable to reason.

I suppose cannibalism and infanticide, polygamy, judicial torture,
religious persecution, witchcraft, during all the years we did these
"inevitable" things, were defended in the same way, and those who
resented all criticism of them pointed in triumph to the cannibal feast,
the dead child, the maimed witness, the slain heretic, or the burned
witch. But the fact did not prove the wisdom of those habits, still less
their inevitability; for we have them no more.

We are all agreed as to the fundamental cause of the Balkan trouble: the
hate born of religious, racial, national, and language differences; the
attempt of an alien conqueror to live parasitically upon the conquered,
and the desire of conqueror and conquered alike to satisfy in massacre
and bloodshed the rancour of fanaticism and hatred.

Well, in these islands, not so very long ago, those things were causes
of bloodshed; indeed, they were a common feature of European life. But
if they are inevitable in human relationship, how comes it that Adana is
no longer duplicated by St. Bartholomew; the Bulgarian bands by the
vendetta of the Highlander and the Lowlander; the struggle of the Slav
and Turk, Serb and Bulgar, by that of Scots and English, and English and
Welsh? The fanaticism of the Moslem to-day is no intenser than that of
Catholic and heretic in Rome, Madrid, Paris, and Geneva at a time which
is only separated from us by the lives of three or four elderly men. The
heretic or infidel was then in Europe also a thing unclean and
horrifying, exciting in the mind of the orthodox a sincere and honest
hatred and a (very largely satisfied) desire to kill. The Catholic of
the 16th century was apt to tell you that he could not sit at table with
a heretic because the latter carried with him a distinctive and
overpoweringly repulsive odour. If you would measure the distance Europe
has travelled, think what this means: all the nations of Christendom
united in a war lasting 200 years for the capture of the Holy Sepulchre;
and yet, when in our day the representatives, seated round a table,
could have had it for the asking, they did not deem it worth the asking,
so little of the ancient passion was there left. The very nature of man
seemed to be transformed. For, wonderful though it be that orthodox
should cease killing heretic, infinitely more wonderful still is it that
he should cease wanting to kill him.

And just as most of us are certain that the underlying causes of this
conflict are "inevitable" and "inherent in unchanging human nature," so
are we certain that so _un_human a thing as economics can have no
bearing on it.

Well, I will suggest that the transformation of the heretic-hating and
heretic-killing European is due mainly to economic forces; that it is
because the drift of those forces has in such large part left the
Balkans, where until yesterday the people lived the life not much
different from that which they lived in the time of Abraham, to one side
that war is now raging; that economic factors of a more immediate kind
form a large part of the provoking cause of that war; and that a better
understanding mainly of certain economic facts of their international
relationship on the part of the great nations of Europe is essential
before much progress towards solution can be made.

But then, by "economics," of course, I mean not a merchant's profit or a
moneylender's interest, but the method by which men earn their bread,
which must also mean the kind of life they lead.

We generally think of the primitive life of man--that of the herdsman or
the tent liver--as something idyllic. The picture is as far as possible
from the truth. Those into whose lives economics do not enter, or enter
very little--that is to say, those who, like the Congo cannibal, or the
Red Indian, or the Bedouin, do not cultivate, or divide their labour, or
trade, or save, or look to the future, have shed little of the primitive
passions of other animals of prey, the tigers and the wolves, who have
no economics at all, and have no need to check an impulse or a hate.
But industry, even of the more primitive kind, means that men must
divide their labour, which means that they must put some sort of
reliance upon one another; the thing of prey becomes a partner, and the
attitude towards it changes. And as this life becomes more complex, as
the daily needs and desires push men to trade and barter, that means
building up a social organisation, rules and codes, and courts to
enforce them; as the interdependence widens and deepens it necessarily
means disregarding certain hostilities. If the neighbouring tribe wants
to trade with you they must not kill you; if you want the services of
the heretic you must not kill him, and you must keep your obligation
towards him, and mutual good faith is death to long-sustained hatreds.

You cannot separate the moral from the social and economic development
of a people, and the great service of a complex social and industrial
organisation, which is built up by the desire of men for better material
conditions, is not that it "pays" but that it makes a more
interdependent human society, and that it leads men to recognise what is
the best relationship between them. And the fact of recognising that
some act of aggression is causing stocks to fall is not important
because it may save Oppenheim's or Solomon's money but because it is a
demonstration that we are dependent upon some community on the other
side of the world, that their damage is our damage, and that we have an
interest in preventing it. It teaches us, as only some such simple and
mechanical means can teach, the lesson of human fellowship.

And it is by such means as this that Western Europe has in some measure,
within its respective political frontiers, learnt that lesson. Each has
learnt, within the confines of the nation at least, that wealth is made
by work, not robbery; that, indeed, general robbery is fatal to
prosperity; that government consists not merely in having the power of
the sword but in organising society--in "knowing how"; which means the
development of ideas; in maintaining courts; in making it possible to
run railways, post offices, and all the contrivances of a complex
society.

Now rulers did not create these things; it was the daily activities of
the people, born of their desires and made possible by the circumstances
in which they lived, by the trading and the mining and the shipping
which they carried on, that made them. But the Balkans have been
geographically outside the influence of European industrial and
commercial life. The Turk has hardly felt it at all. He has learnt none
of the social and moral lessons which interdependence and improved
communications have taught the Western European, and it is because he
has not learnt these lessons, because he is a soldier and a conqueror,
to an extent and completeness that other nations of Europe lost a
generation or two since, that the Balkanese are fighting and that war is
raging.

But not merely in this larger sense, but in the more immediate, narrower
sense, are the fundamental causes of this war economic.

This war arises, as the past wars against the Turkish conqueror have
arisen, by the desire of the Christian peoples on whom he lives to shake
off this burden. "To live upon their subjects is the Turks' only means
of livelihood," says one authority. The Turk is an economic parasite,
and the economic organism must end of rejecting him.

For the management of society, simple and primitive even as that of the
Balkan mountains, needs some effort and work and capacity for
administration, or even rudimentary economic life cannot be carried on.
And the Turkish system, founded on the sword and nothing else ("the
finest soldier in Europe"), cannot give that small modicum, of energy or
administrative capacity. The one thing he knows is brute force; but it
is not by the strength of his muscles that an engineer runs a machine,
but by knowing how. The Turk cannot build a road, or make a bridge, or
administer a post office, or found a court of law. And these things are
necessary. And he will not let them be done by the Christian, who,
because he did not belong to the conquering class, has had to work, and
has consequently become the class which possesses whatever capacity for
work and administration the country can show, because to do so would be
to threaten the Turk's only trade. If the Turk granted the Christians
equal political rights they would inevitably "run the country," And yet
the Turk himself cannot do it; and he will not let others do it, because
to do so would be to threaten his supremacy.

And the more the use of force fails, the more, of course, does he resort
to it, and that is why many of us who do not believe in force, and
desire to see it disappear in the relationship not merely of religious
but of political groups, might conceivably welcome this war of the
Balkan Christians, in so far as it is an attempt to resist the use of
force in those relationships. Of course, I do not try to estimate the
"balance of criminality." Right is not all on one side--it never is. But
the broad issue is clear and plain. And only those concerned with the
name rather than the thing, with nominal and verbal consistency rather
than realities, will see anything paradoxical or contradictory in
Pacifist approval of Christian resistance to the use of Turkish force.

It is the one fact which stands out incontrovertibly from the whole
weary muddle. It is quite clear that the inability to act in common
arises from the fact that in the international sphere the European is
still dominated by illusions which he has dropped when he deals with
home politics. The political faith of the Turk, which he would never
think of applying at home as between the individuals of his nation, he
applies pure and unalloyed when he comes to deal with foreigners as
nations. The economic conception--using the term in that wider sense
which I have indicated earlier in this article--which guides his
individual conduct is the antithesis of that which guides his national
conduct.

While the Christian does not believe in robbery inside the frontier, he
does without; while within the State he realises that greater advantage
lies on the side of each observing the general code, so that civilised
society can exist, instead of on the side of having society go to pieces
by each disregarding it; while within the State he realises that
government is a matter of administration, not the seizure of property;
that one town does not add to its wealth by "capturing" another, that
indeed one community cannot "own" another--while, I say, he believes all
these things in his daily life at home, he disregards them all when he
comes to the field of international relationship, _la haute politique_.
To annex some province by a cynical breach of treaty obligation (Austria
in Bosnia, Italy in Tripoli) is regarded as better politics than to act
loyally with the community of nations to enforce their common interest
in order and good government. In fact, we do not believe that there can
be a community of nations, because, in fact, we do not believe that
their interests are common, but rival; like the Turk, we believe that if
you do not exercise force upon your "rival" he will exercise it upon
you; that nations live upon one another, not by co-operation with one
another--and it is for this reason presumably that you must "own" as
much of your neighbours' as possible. It is the Turkish conception from
beginning to end.

And it is because these false beliefs prevent the nations of Christendom
acting loyally the one to the other, because each is playing for its own
hand, that the Turk, with hint of some sordid bribe, has been able to
play off each against the other.

This is the crux of the matter. When Europe can honestly act in common
on behalf of common interests some solution can be found. And the
capacity of Europe to act together will not be found so long as the
accepted doctrines of European statecraft remain unchanged, so long as
they are dominated by existing illusions.

* * * * *

In a paper read before the British Association of this year, I attempted
to show in more general terms this relation between economic impulse and
ideal motive. The following are relevant passages:--

A nation, a people, we are given to understand, have higher motives than
money, or "self-interest." What do we mean when we speak of the money of
a nation, or the self-interest of a community? We mean--and in such a
discussion as this can mean nothing else--better conditions for the
great mass of the people, the fullest possible lives, the abolition or
attenuation of poverty and of narrow circumstances, that the millions
shall be better housed and clothed and fed, capable of making provision
for sickness and old age, with lives prolonged and cheered--and not
merely this, but also that they shall be better educated, with character
disciplined by steady labour and a better use of leisure, a general
social atmosphere which shall make possible family affection, individual
dignity and courtesy and the graces of life, not alone among the few,
but among the many.

Now, do these things constitute as a national policy an inspiring
aim or not? Yet they are, speaking in terms of communities, pure
self-interest--all bound up with economic problems, with money. Does
Admiral Mahan mean us to take him at his word when he would attach to
such efforts the same discredit that one implies in talking of a
mercenary individual? Would he have us believe that the typical great
movements of our times--Socialism, Trades Unionism, Syndicalism,
Insurance Bills, Land Laws, Old Age Pensions, Charity Organisation,
Improved Education--bound up as they all are with economic problems--are
not the sort of objects which more and more are absorbing the best
activities of Christendom?

I have attempted to show that the activities which lie outside the range
of these things--the religious wars, movements like those which promoted
the Crusades, or the sort of tradition which we associate with the duel
(which has, in fact, disappeared from Anglo-Saxon society)--do not and
cannot any longer form part of the impulse creating the long-sustained
conflicts between large groups which a European war implies, partly
because such allied moral differences as now exist do not in any way
coincide with the political divisions, but intersect them, and partly
because in the changing character of men's ideals there is a distinct
narrowing of the gulf which is supposed to separate ideal and material
aims. Early ideals, whether in the field of politics or religion, are
generally dissociated from any aim of general well-being. In early
politics ideals are concerned simply with personal allegiance to some
dynastic chief, a feudal lord or a monarch. The well-being of a
community does not enter into the matter at all: it is the personal
allegiance which matters. Later the chief must embody in his person that
well-being, or he does not achieve the allegiance of a community of any
enlightenment; later, the well-being of the community becomes the end in
itself without being embodied in the person of an hereditary chief, so
that the community realise that their efforts, instead of being directed
to the protection of the personal interests of some chief, are as a
matter of fact directed to the protection of their own interests, and
their altruism has become self-interest, since self-sacrifice of a
community for the sake of the community is a contradiction in terms. In
the religious sphere a like development has been shown. Early religious
ideals have no relation to the material betterment of mankind. The early
Christian thought it meritorious to live a sterile life at the top of a
pillar, eaten by vermin, as the Hindoo saint to-day thinks it
meritorious to live an equally sterile life upon a bed of spikes. But as
the early Christian ideal progressed, sacrifices having no end connected
with the betterment of mankind lost their appeal. The Christian saint
who would allow the nails of his fingers to grow through the palms of
his clasped hands would excite, not our admiration, but our revolt. More
and more is religious effort being subjected to this test: does it make
for the improvement of society? If not, it stands condemned. Political
ideals will inevitably follow a like development, and will be more and
more subjected to a like test.

I am aware that very often at present they are not so subjected.
Dominated as our political thought is by Roman and feudal
imagery--hypnotised by symbols and analogies which the necessary
development of organised society has rendered obsolete--the ideals even
of democracies are still often pure abstractions, divorced from any aim
calculated to advance the moral or material betterment of mankind. The
craze for sheer size of territory, simple extent of administrative area,
is still deemed a thing deserving immense, incalculable sacrifices.

* * * * *

And yet even these ideals, firmly set as they are in our language and
tradition, are rapidly yielding to the necessary force of events. A
generation ago it would have been inconceivable that a people or a
monarch should calmly see part of its country secede and establish
itself as a separate political entity without attempting to prevent it
by force of arms. Yet this is what happened but a year or two since in
the Scandinavian peninsula. For forty years Germany has added to her own
difficulties and those of the European situation for the purpose of
including Alsace and Lorraine in its Federation, but even there, obeying
the tendency which is world-wide, an attempt has been made at the
creation of a constitutional and autonomous government. The history of
the British Empire for fifty years has been a process of undoing the
work of conquest. Colonies are now neither colonies nor possessions.
They are independent States. Great Britain, which for centuries has made
such sacrifices to retain Ireland, is now making great sacrifices in
order to make her secession workable. To all political arrangements, to
all political ideals, the final test will be applied: Does it or does it
not make for the widest interests of the mass of the people involved?...
And I would ask those who think that war must be a permanent element in
the settlement of the moral differences of men to think for one moment
of the factors which stood in the way of the abandonment of the use of
force by governments, and by one religious group against another in the
matter of religious belief. On the one hand you had authority with all
the prestige of historical right and the possession of physical power in
its most imposing form, the means of education still in their hands;
government authority extending to all sorts of details of life to which
it no longer extends; immense vested interests outside government; and
finally the case for the imposition of dogma by authority a strong one,
and still supported by popular passion: and on the other hand, you had
as yet poor and feeble instruments of mere opinion; the printed book
still a rarity; the Press non-existent, communication between men still
rudimentary, worse even than it had been two thousand years previously.
And yet, despite these immense handicaps upon the growth of opinion and
intellectual ferment as against physical force, it was impossible for a
new idea to find life in Geneva or Rome or Edinburgh or London without
quickly crossing and affecting all the other centres, and not merely
making headway against entrenched authority, but so quickly breaking up
the religious homogeneity of states, that not only were governments
obliged to abandon the use of force in religious matters as against
their subjects, but religious wars between nations became impossible for
the double reason that a nation no longer expressed a single religious
belief (you had the anomaly of a Protestant Sweden fighting in alliance
with a Catholic France), and that the power of opinion had become
stronger than the power of physical force--because, in other words, the
limits of military force were more and more receding.

But if the use of force was so ineffective against the spiritual
possessions of man when the arms to be used in their defence were so
poor and rudimentary, how could a government hope to crush out by force
to-day such things as a nation's language, law, literature, morals,
ideals, when it possesses such means of defence as are provided in
security of tenure of material possessions, a cheap literature, a
popular Press, a cheap and secret postal system, and all the other means
of rapid and perfected inter-communication?

You will notice that I have spoken throughout not of the _defence_ of a
national ideal by arms, but of its attack; if you have to defend your
ideal it is because someone attacks it, and without attack your defence
would not be called for.

If you are compelled to prevent someone using force as against your
nationality, it is because he believes that by the use of that force he
can destroy or change it. If he thought that the use of force would be
ineffective to that end he would not employ it.

I have attempted to show elsewhere that the abandonment of war for
material ends depends upon a general realisation of its futility for
accomplishing those ends. In like manner does the abandonment of war for
moral or ideal ends depend upon the general realisation of the growing
futility of such means for those ends also--and for the growing futility
of those ends if they could be accomplished.

We are sometimes told that it is the spirit of nationality--the desire
to be of your place and locality--that makes war. That is not so. It is
the desire of other men that you shall not be of your place and
locality, of your habits and traditions, but of theirs. Not the desire
of nationality, but the desire to destroy nationality is what makes the
wars of nationality. If the Germans did not think that the retention of
Polish or Alsatian nationality might hamper them in the art of war,
hamper them in the imposition of force on some other groups, there would
be no attempt to crush out this special possession of the Poles and
Alsatians. It is the belief in force and a preference for settling
things by force instead of by agreement that threatens or destroys
nationality. And I have given an indication of the fact that it is not
merely war, but the preparation for war, implying as it does great
homogeneity in states and centralised bureaucratic control, which is
to-day the great enemy of nationality. Before this tendency to
centralisation which military necessity sets up much that gives colour
and charm to European life is disappearing. And yet we are told that it
is the Pacifists who are the enemy of nationality, and we are led to
believe that in some way the war system in Europe stands for the
preservation of nationality!

[Footnote 3: Review of Reviews, November, 1912.]

[Footnote 4: In the "Daily Mail," to whose Editor I am indebted for
permission to reprint it.]
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CHAPTER IV.

TURKISH IDEALS IN OUR POLITICAL THOUGHT.

This war and "the Turks of Britain and Prussia"--The Anglo-Saxon and
opposed ideals--Mr. C. Chesterton's case for "killing and being killed"
as the best method of settling differences--Its application to Civil
Conflicts--As in Spanish-America--The difference between Devonshire and
Venezuela--Will the Balkans adopt the Turco-Venezuelan political ideals
or the British?


An English political writer remarked, on it becoming evident that the
Christian States were driving back the Turks: "This is a staggering blow
to _all_ the Turks--those of England and Prussia as well as those of
Turkey."

But, of course, the British and Prussian Turks will never see it--like
the Bourbons, they learn not. Here is a typically military system, the
work of "born fighters" which has gone down in welter before the
assaults of much less military States, the chief of which, indeed, has
grown up in what Captain von Herbert has called, with some contempt,
"stagnant and enfeebling peace conditions," formed by the people whom
the Turks regarded as quite unfit to be made into warriors; whom they
regarded much as some Europeans regard the Jews. It is the Christian
populations of the Balkans who were the traders and workers--those
brought most under economic influences; it was the Turks who escaped
those influences. A few years since, I wrote: "If the conqueror profits
much by his conquest, as the Romans in one sense did, it is the
conqueror who is threatened by the enervating effect of the soft and
luxurious life; while it is the conquered who are forced to labour for
the conqueror, and who learn in consequence those qualities of steady
industry which are certainly a better moral training than living upon
the fruits of others, upon labour extorted at the sword's point. It is
the conqueror who becomes effete, and it is the conquered who learn
discipline and the qualities making for a well-ordered State."

Could we ask a better illustration than the history of the Turk and his
Christian victims? I exemplified the matter thus: "If during long
periods a nation gives itself up to war, trade languishes, the
population loses the habit of steady industry, government and
administration become corrupt, abuses escape punishment, and the real
sources of a people's strength and expansion dwindle. What has caused
the relative failure and decline of Spanish, Portuguese, and French
expansion in Asia and the New World, and the relative success of English
expansion therein? Was it the mere hazards of war which gave to Great
Britain the domination of India and half of the New World? That is
surely a superficial reading of history. It was, rather, that the
methods and processes of Spain, Portugal, and France were military,
while those of the Anglo-Saxon world were commercial and peaceful. Is it
not a commonplace that in India, quite as much as in the New World, the
trader and the settler drove out the soldier and the conqueror? The
difference between the two methods was that one was a process of
conquest, and the other of colonizing, or non-military administration
for commercial purposes. The one embodied the sordid Cobdenite idea,
which so excites the scorn of the militarists, and the other the lofty
military ideal. The one was parasitism; the other co-operation....

"How may we sum up the whole case, keeping in mind every empire that
ever existed--the Assyrian, the Babylonian, the Mede and Persian, the
Macedonian, the Roman, the Frank, the Saxon, the Spanish, the
Portuguese, the Bourbon, the Napoleonic? In all and every one of them we
may see the same process, which is this: If it remains military it
decays; if it prospers and takes its share of the work of the world it
ceases to be military. There is no other reading of history."

But despite these very plain lessons, there are many amongst us who
regard physical conflict as the ideal form of human relationship;
"killing and being killed" as the best way to determine the settlement
of differences, and a society which drifts from these ideals as on the
high road to degeneration, and who deem those who set before themselves
the ideal of abolishing or attenuating poverty for the mass of men, "low
and sordid."

Thus Mr. Cecil Chesterton[5]:

In essence Mr. Angell's query is: "Should usurers go to war?"

I may say, in passing, that I am not clear that even on the
question thus raised Mr. Angell makes out his case. His case,
broadly stated, is that the net of "Finance"--or, to put it
plainer, Cosmopolitan Usury--which is at present spread over Europe
would be disastrously torn by any considerable war; and that in
consequence it is to the interest of the usurers to preserve peace.
But here, it seems to me, we must make a clear differentiation. It
may easily be to the interest of a particular usurer, or group of
usurers, to provoke war; that very financial crisis which Mr.
Angell anticipates may quite probably be a source of profit to
them. That it would not be to the interest of a nation of usurers
to fight is very probable. That such a nation would not fight, or,
if it did, would be exceedingly badly beaten, is certain. But that
only serves to raise the further question of whether it is to the
ultimate advantage of a nation to repose upon usury; and whether
the breaking of the net of usury which at present unquestionably
holds Europe in captivity would not be for the advantage, as it
would clearly be for the honour, of our race.... The sword is too
sacred a thing to be prostituted to such dirty purposes. But
whether he succeeds or fails in this attempt, it will make no
difference to the mass of plain men who, when they fight and risk
their lives, do not do so in the expectation of obtaining a certain
interest on their capital, but for quite other reasons.

Mr. Angell's latest appeal comes, I think, at an unfortunate
moment. It is not merely that the Balkan States have refused to be
convinced by Mr. Angell as to their chances of commercial profit
from the war. It is that if Mr. Angell had succeeded to the fullest
extent in convincing them that there was not a quarter per cent. to
be made out of the war, nay, that--horrible thought!--they would
actually be poorer at the end of the war than at the beginning,
they would have gone to war all the same.

Since Mr. Angell's argument clearly applies as much or more to
civil as to international conflicts, I may perhaps be allowed to
turn to civil conflicts to make clear my meaning. In this country
during the last three centuries one solid thing has been done. The
power of Parliament was pitted in battle against the power of the
Crown, and won. As a result, for good or evil, Parliament really is
stronger than the Crown to-day. The power of the mass of the
people to control Parliament has been given as far as mere
legislation could give it. We all know that it is a sham. And if
you ask what it is that makes the difference of reality between the
two cases, it is this: that men killed and were killed for the one
thing and not for the other.

I have no space to develop all that I should like to say about the
indirect effects of war. All I will say is this, that men do judge,
and always will judge, things by the ultimate test of how they
fight. The German victory of forty years ago has produced not only
an astonishing expansion, industrial as well as political of
Germany, but has (most disastrously, as I think) infected Europe
with German ideas, especially with the idea that you make a nation
strong by making its people behave like cattle. God send that I may
live to see the day when victorious armies from Gaul shall shatter
this illusion, burn up Prussianism with all its Police Regulations,
Insurance Acts, Poll Taxes, and insults to the poor, and reassert
the Republic. It will never be done in any other way.

If arbitration is ever to take the place of war, it must be backed
by a corresponding array of physical force. Now the question
immediately arises: Are we prepared to arm any International
Tribunal with any such powers? Personally, I am not.... Turn back
some fifty years to the great struggle for the emancipation of
Italy. Suppose that a Hague Tribunal had then been in existence,
armed with coercive powers. The dispute between Austria and
Sardinia must have been referred to that tribunal. That tribunal
must have been guided by existing treaties. The Treaty of Vienna
was perhaps the most authoritative ever entered into by European
Powers. By that treaty, Venice and Lombardy were unquestionably
assigned to Austria. A just tribunal administering international
law _must_ have decided in favour of Austria, and have used the
whole armed force of Europe to coerce Italy into submission. Are
those Pacifists, who try at the same time to be Democrats, prepared
to acquiesce in such a conclusion? Personally, I am not.

I replied as follows:

Mr. Cecil Chesterton says that the question which I have raised is
this: "Should usurers go to war?"

That, of course, is not true. I have never, even by implication,
put such a problem, and there is nothing in the article which he
criticises, nor in any other statement of my own, that justifies
it. What I have asked is whether peoples should go to war.

I should have thought it was pretty obvious that, whatever happens,
usurers do not go to war: the peoples go to war, and the peoples
pay, and the whole question is whether they should go on making war
and paying for it. Mr. Chesterton says that if they are wise they
will; I say that if they are wise they will not.

I have attempted to show that the prosperity of peoples--by which,
of course, one means the diminution of poverty, better houses, soap
and water, healthy children, lives prolonged, conditions
sufficiently good to ensure leisure and family affection, fuller
and completer lives generally--is not secured by fighting one
another, but by co-operation and labour, by a better organisation
of society, by improved human relationship, which, of course, can
only come of better understanding of the conditions of that
relationship, which better understanding means discussion,
adjustment, a desire and capacity to see the point of view of the
other man--of all of which war and its philosophy is the negation.

To all of this Mr. Chesterton replies: "That only concerns the Jews
and the moneylenders." Again, this is not true. It concerns all of
us, like all problems of our struggle with Nature. It is in part at
least an economic problem, and that part of it is best stated in
the more exact and precise terms that I have employed to deal with
it--the term's of the market-place. But to imply that the
conditions that there obtain are the affair merely of bankers and
financiers, to imply that these things do not touch the lives of
the mass, is simply to talk a nonsense the meaninglessness of which
only escapes some of us because in these matters we happen to be
very ignorant. It is not mainly usurers who suffer from bad finance
and bad economics (one may suggest that they are not quite so
simple); it is mainly the people as a whole.

Mr. Chesterton says that we should break this "net of usury" in
which the peoples are enmeshed. I agree heartily; but that net has
been woven mainly by war (and that diversion of energy and
attention from social management which war involves), and is, so
far as the debts of the European States are concerned (so large an
element of usury), almost solely the outcome of war. And if the
peoples go on piling up debt, as they must if they are to go on
piling up armaments (as Mr. Chesterton wants them to), giving the
best of their attention and emotion to sheer physical conflict,
instead of to organisation and understanding, they will merely
weave that web of debt and usury still closer; it will load us more
heavily and strangle us to a still greater extent. If usury is the
enemy, the remedy is to fight usury. Mr. Chesterton says the remedy
is for its victims to fight one another.

And you will not fight usury by hanging Rothschilds, for usury is
worst where that sort of thing is resorted to. Widespread debt is
the outcome of bad management and incompetence, economic or social,
and only better management will remedy it. Mr. Chesterton is sure
that better management is only arrived at by "killing and being
killed." He really does urge this method even in civil matters. (He
tells us that the power of Parliament over the Crown is real, and
that of the people over Parliament a sham, "because men killed and
were killed for the one, and not for the other.") It is the method
of Spanish America where it is applied more frankly and logically,
and where still, in many places, elections are a military affair,
the questions at issue being settled by killing and being killed,
instead of by the cowardly, pacifist methods current in Europe. The
result gives us the really military civilisations of Venezuela,
Colombia, Nicaragua, and Paraguay. And, although the English system
may have many defects--I think it has--those defects exist in a
still greater degree where force "settles" the matters in dispute,
where the bullet replaces the ballot, and where bayonets are
resorted to instead of brains. For Devonshire is better than
Nicaragua. Really it is. And it would get us out of none of our
troubles for one group to impose its views simply by preponderant
physical force, for Mr. Asquith, for instance, in the true Castro
or Zuyala manner, to announce that henceforth all critics of the
Insurance Act are to be shot, and that the present Cabinet will
hold office as long as it can depend upon the support of the Army.
For, even if the country rose in rebellion, and fought it out and
won, the successful party would (if they also believed in force) do
exactly the same thing to _their_ opponents; and so it would go on
never-endingly (as it has gone on during weary centuries throughout
the larger part of South America), until the two parties came once
more to their senses, and agreed not to use force when they
happened to be able to do so; which is our present condition. But
it is the condition of England merely because the English, as a
whole, have ceased to believe in Mr. Chesterton's principles; it is
not yet the condition of Venezuela because the Venezuelans have not
yet ceased to believe those principles, though even they are
beginning to.

Mr. Chesterton says: "Men do judge, and always will judge, by the
ultimate test of how they fight." The pirate who gives his blood
has a better right, therefore, to the ship than the merchant (who
may be a usurer!) who only gives his money. Well, that is the view
which was all but universal well into the period of what, for want
of a better word, we call civilisation. Not only was it the basis
of all such institutions as the ordeal and duel; not only did it
justify (and in the opinion of some still justifies) the wars of
religion and the use of force in religious matters generally; not
only was it the accepted national polity of such communities as the
Vikings, the Barbary States, and the Red Indians; but it is still,
unfortunately, the polity of certain European states. But the idea
is a survival and--and this is the important point--an admission of
failure to understand where right lies: to "fight it out" is the
remedy of the boy who for the life of him cannot see who is right
and who is wrong.

At ten years of age we are all quite sure that piracy is a finer
calling than trade, and the pirate a finer fellow than the Shylock
who owns the ship--which, indeed, he may well be. But as we grow up
(which some of the best of us never do) we realise that piracy is
not the best way to establish the ownership of cargoes, any more
than the ordeal is the way to settle cases at law, or the rack of
proving a dogma, or the Spanish American method the way to settle
differences between Liberals and Conservatives.

And just as civil adjustments are made most efficiently, as they
are in England (say), as distinct from South America, by a general
agreement not to resort to force, so it is the English method in
the international field which gives better results than that based
on force. The relationship of Great Britain to Canada or Australia
is preferable to the relationship of Russia to Finland or Poland,
or Germany to Alsace-Lorraine. The five nations of the British
Empire have, by agreement, abandoned the use of force as between
themselves. Australia may do us an injury--exclude our subjects,
English or Indian, and expose them to insult--but we know very well
that force will not be used against her. To withhold such force is
the basis of the relationship of these five nations; and, given a
corresponding development of ideas, might equally well be the basis
of the relationship of fifteen--about all the nations of the world
who could possibly fight. The difficulties Mr. Chesterton
imagines--an international tribunal deciding in favour of Austria
concerning the recession of Venice and Lombardy, and summoning the
forces of United Europe to coerce Italy into submission--are, of
course, based on the assumption that a United Europe, having
arrived at such understanding as to be able to sink its
differences, would be the same kind of Europe that it is now, or
was a generation ago. If European statecraft advances sufficiently
to surrender the use of force against neighbouring states, it will
have advanced sufficiently to surrender the use of force against
unwilling provinces, as in some measure British statesmanship has
already done. To raise the difficulty that Mr. Chesterton does is
much the same as assuming that a court of law in San Domingo or
Turkey will give the same results as a court of law in Great
Britain, because the form of the mechanism is the same. And does
Mr. Chesterton suggest that the war system settles these matters to
perfection? That it has worked satisfactorily in Ireland and
Finland, or, for the matter of that, in Albania or Macedonia?

For if Mr. Chesterton urges that killing and being killed is the
way to determine the best means of governing a country, it is his
business to defend the Turk, who has adopted that principle during
four hundred years, not the Christians, who want to bring that
method to an end and adopt another. And I would ask no better
example of the utter failure of the principles that I combat and
Mr. Chesterton defends than their failure in the Balkan Peninsula.

This war is due to the vile character of Turkish rule, and the
Turk's rule is vile because it is based on the sword. Like Mr.
Chesterton (and our pirate), the Turk believes in the right of
conquest, "the ultimate test of how they fight." "The history of
the Turks," says Sir Charles Elliott, "is almost exclusively a
catalogue of battles." He has lived (for the most gloriously
uneconomic person has to live, to follow a trade of some sort, even
if it be that of theft) on tribute exacted from the Christian
populations, and extorted, not in return for any work of
administration, but simply because he was the stronger. And that
has made his rule intolerable, and is the cause of this war.

Now, my whole thesis is that understanding, work, co-operation,
adjustment, must be the basis of human society; that conquest as a
means of achieving national advantage must fail; that to base your
prosperity or means of livelihood, your economic system, in short,
upon having more force than someone else, and exercising it against
him, is an impossible form of human relationship that is bound to
break down. And Mr. Chesterton says that the war in the Balkans
demolishes this thesis. I do not agree with him.

The present war in the Balkans is an attempt--and happily a
successful one--to bring this reign of force and conquest to an
end, and that is why those of us who do not believe in military
force rejoice.

The debater, more concerned with verbal consistency than realities
and the establishment of sound principles, will say that this means
the approval of war. It does not; it merely means the choice of the
less evil of two forms of war. War has been going on in the
Balkans, not for a month, but has been waged by the Turks daily
against these populations for 400 years.

The Balkan peoples have now brought to an end a system of rule
based simply upon the accident of force--"killing and being
killed." And whether good or ill comes of this war will depend upon
whether they set up a similar system or one more in consonance with
pacifist principles. I believe they will choose the latter course;
that is to say, they will continue to co-operate between themselves
instead of fighting between themselves; they will settle
differences by discussion, adjustment, not force. But if they are
guided by Mr. Chesterton's principle, if each one of the Balkan
nations is determined to impose its own especial point of view, to
refuse all settlement by co-operation and understanding, where it
can resort to force--why, in that case, the strongest (presumably
Bulgaria) will start conquering the rest, start imposing government
by force, and will listen to no discussion or argument; will
simply, in short, take the place of the Turk in the matter, and the
old weary contest will begin afresh, and we shall have the Turkish
system under a new name, until that in its turn is destroyed, and
the whole process begun again _da capo_. And if Mr. Chesterton says
that this is not his philosophy, and that he would recommend the
Balkan nations to come to an understanding, and co-operate
together, instead of fighting one another, why does he give
different counsels to the nations of Christendom as a whole? If it
is well for the Balkan peoples to abandon conflict as between
themselves in favour of co-operation against the common enemy, why
is it ill for the other Christian peoples to abandon such conflict
in favour of co-operation against their common enemy, which is wild
nature and human error, ignorance and passion.

[Footnote 5: From "Everyman" to whose Editor I am indebted for
permission to print my reply.]



CHAPTER V.

OUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR BALKAN WARS.

Mr. Winston Churchill on the "Responsibility" of Diplomacy--What does he
mean?--An easy (and popular) philosophy--Can we neglect past if we would
avoid future errors?--British temper and policy in the Crimean War--What
are its lessons?--Why we fought a war to sustain the "integrity and
independence of the Turkish dominion in Europe"--Supporting the Turk
against his Christian victims--From fear of Russian growth which we are
now aiding--The commentary of events--Shall we back the wrong horse
again?


Here was a war which had broken out in spite of all that rulers and
diplomatists could do to prevent it, a war in which the Press had
had no part, a war which the whole force of the money power had
been subtly and steadfastly directed to prevent, which had come
upon us not through the ignorance or credulity of the people; but,
on the contrary, through their knowledge of their history and their
destiny.... Who is the man who is vain enough to suppose that the
long antagonisms of history and of time can in all circumstances be
adjusted by the smooth and superficial conventions of politicians
and ambassadors?

Thus Mr. Churchill. It is a plea for the inevitability, not merely of
war, but of a people's "destiny."

What precisely does it mean? Does it mean that the European Powers have
in the past been entirely wise and honest, have never intrigued with
the Turk the one against the other, have always kept good faith, have
never been inspired by false political theories and tawdry and shoddy
ideals, have, in short, no responsibility for the abominations that have
gone on in the Balkan peninsula for a century? No one outside a lunatic
asylum would urge it. But, then, that means that diplomacy has _not_
done all it might to prevent this war. Why does Mr. Churchill say it
has?

And does the passage I have quoted mean that we--that English
diplomacy--has had no part in European diplomacy in the past? Have we
not, on the contrary, by universal admission played a predominant role
by backing the wrong horse?

But, then, that is not a popular thing to point out, and Mr. Churchill
is very careful not to point it out in any way that could give
justification to an unpopular view or discredit a popular one. He is,
however, far too able a Cabinet Minister to ignore obvious facts, and it
is interesting to note how he disposes of them. Observe the following
passage:

For the drama or tragedy which is moving to its climax in the
Balkans we all have our responsibilities, and none of us can escape
our share of them by blaming others or by blaming the Turk. If
there is any man here who, looking back over the last 35 years,
thinks he knows where to fix the sole responsibility for all the
procrastination and provocation, for all the jealousies and
rivalries, for all the religious and racial animosities, which have
worked together for this result, I do not envy him his
complacency.... Whether we blame the belligerents or criticise the
Powers or sit in sackcloth and ashes ourselves is absolutely of no
consequence at the present moment.

Now if for this tragedy we "all have our responsibility," then what
becomes of his first statement that the war is raging despite all that
rulers and diplomats could do to prevent it? If the war was
"inevitable," and rulers and diplomats have done all they could to
prevent it, neither they nor we have any responsibility for it. He
knows, of course, that it is impossible to deny that responsibility,
that our errors in the past _have_ been due not to any lack of readiness
to fight or quarrel with foreign nations, but precisely to the tendency
to do those things and our _in_disposition to set aside instinctive and
reasonless jealousies and rivalries in favour of a deeper sense of
responsibility and a somewhat longer vision.

But, again, this quite obvious moral, that if we have our
responsibility, if, in other words, we have _not_ done all that we might
and _have_ been led away by temper and passion, we should, in order to
avoid a repetition of such errors in the future, try and see where we
have erred in the past, is precisely the moral that Mr. Churchill does
_not_ draw. Again, it is not the popular line to show with any
definiteness that we have been wrong. An abstract proposition that "we
all have our responsibilities," is, while a formal admission of the
obvious fact also at the same time, an excuse, almost a justification.
You realise Mr. Churchill's method: Having made the necessary admission
of fact, you immediately prevent any unpleasant (or unpopular) practical
conclusion concerning our duty in the matter by talking of the
"complacency" of those who would fix any real and definite part of the
responsibility upon you. (Because, of course, no man, knows where lies,
and no one would ever attempt to fix, the "sole" responsibility).
Incidentally, one might point out to Mr. Churchill that the attempt to
see the errors of past conduct and to avoid them in the future is _not_
complacency, but that airily to dismiss our responsibility by saying
that it is of "no consequence whether we sit in sackcloth and ashes"
_is_ complacency.

Mr. Churchill's idea seems to be that men should forget their
errors--and commit them again. For that is what it amounts to. We
cannot, indeed, undo the past, that is true; but we can prevent it
being repeated. But we certainly shall not prevent such repetition if we
hug the easy doctrine that we have always been right--that it is not
worth while to see how our principles have worked out in practice, to
take stock of our experience, and to see what results the principles we
propose again to put into operation, have given.

The practical thing for us if we would avoid like errors in the future
is to see where _our_ responsibility lies--a thing which we shall never
do if we are governed by the net impression which disengages itself from
speeches like those of Mr. Churchill. For the net result of that speech,
the impression, despite a few shrewd qualifications which do not in
reality affect that net result but which may be useful later wherewith
to silence critics, is that war is inevitable, a matter of "destiny,"
that diplomacy--the policy pursued by the respective powers--can do
nothing to prevent it; that as brute force is the one and final appeal
the only practical policy is to have plenty of armaments and to show a
great readiness to fight; that it is futile to worry about past errors;
(especially as an examination of them would go a long way to discredit
the policy just indicated); that the troublesome and unpopular people
who in the past happen to have kept their heads during a prevailing
dementia--and whose policy happens to have been as right as that of the
popular side was wrong--can be dismissed with left-handed references to
"complacency," This sort of thing is popular enough, of course, but--

Well, I will take the risks of a tactic which is the exact contrary to
that adopted by Mr. Churchill and would urge upon those whose patriotism
is not of the order which is ready to see their country in the wrong and
who do feel some responsibility for its national policy, to ask
themselves these questions:

Is it true that the Powers could have prevented in large measure the
abominations which Turkey has practised in the Balkans for the last
half-century or so?

Has our own policy been a large factor in determining that of the
Powers?

Has our own policy directly prevented in the past the triumph of the
Christian populations which, despite that policy, has finally taken
place?

Was our own policy at fault when we were led into a war to ensure the
"integrity and independence of the Turkish dominions in Europe"?

Is the general conception of Statecraft on which that policy has been
based--the "Balance of Power" which presupposes the necessary rivalry of
nations and which in the past has led to oppose Russia as it is now
leading to oppose Germany--sound, and has it been justified in history?

Did we give due weight to the considerations urged by the public men of
the past who opposed such features of this policy as the Crimean War;
was the immense popularity of that war any test of its wisdom; were the
rancour, hatred and scorn poured upon those men just or deserved?

* * * * *

Now the first four of these questions have been answered by history and
are answered by every one to-day in an emphatic affirmative. This is not
the opinion of a Pacifist partisan. Even the _Times_ is constrained to
admit that "these futile conflicts might have ended years ago, if it had
not been for the quarrels of the Western nations."[6] And as to the
Crimean War, has not the greatest Conservative foreign minister of the
nineteenth century admitted that "we backed the wrong horse"--and, what
is far more to the point, have not events unmistakably demonstrated it?

Do we quite realise that if foreign policy had that continuity which
the political pundits pretend, we should now be fighting on the side of
the Turk against the Balkan States? That we have entered into solemn
treaty obligations, as part of our national policy, to guarantee for
ever the "integrity and independence of the Turkish dominions in
Europe," that we fought a great and popular war to prevent that triumph
of the Christian population which will arise as the result of the
present war? That but for this policy which caused us to maintain the
Turk in Europe the present war would certainly not be raging, and, what
is much more to the point, that but for our policy the abominations
which have provoked it and which it is its object to terminate, would so
far as human reason can judge at all have been brought to an end
generations since? Do we quite realise that _we_ are in large part
responsible, not merely for the war, but for the long agony of horror
which have provoked it and made it necessary; that when we talk of the
jealousies and rivalries of the Powers as playing so large a part in the
responsibility for these things, we represent, perhaps, the chief among
those jealousies and rivalries? That it is not mainly the Turk nor the
Russian nor the Austrian which has determined the course of history in
the Balkan peninsular since the middle of the 19th century, but we
Englishmen--the country gentleman obsessed by vague theories of the
Balance of Power and heaven knows what, reading his _Times_ and barking
out his preposterous politics over the dinner table? That this fatal
policy was dictated simply by fear of the growth of "Russian barbarism
and autocracy" and "the overshadowing of the Western nations by a
country whose institutions are inimical to our own"? That while we were
thus led into war by a phantom danger to our Indian possessions, we were
quite blind to the real danger which threatened them, which a year or
two later, in the Mutiny, nearly lost us them and which were not due to
the machinations of a rival power but to our own misgovernment; that
this very "barbaric growth" and expansion towards India which we fought
a war to check we are now actively promoting in Persia and elsewhere by
our (effective) alliance? That while as recently as fifteen years ago we
would have gone to war to prevent any move of Russia towards the Indian
frontier, we are to-day actually encouraging her to build a railway
there? And that it is now another nation which stands as the natural
barrier to Russian expansion to the West--Germany--whose power we are
challenging, and that all tendencies point to our backing again the
wrong horse, to our fighting _with_ the "semi-Asiatic barbarian" (as our
fathers used to call him) against the nation which has close racial and
cultural affinity to our own, just as half a century since the same
fatal obsession about the "Balance of Power" led us to fight with the
Mohammedan in order to bolster up for half a century his anti-Christian
rule.

The misreading of history in this matter is, unfortunately, not
possible. The point upon which in the Crimean war the negotiations with
Russia finally broke was the claim, based upon her reading of the Vienna
note, to stand as religious protector of the Greek Christians in the
Balkan peninsular. That was the pivot of the whole negotiations, and the
war was the outcome of our support of the Turkish view--or, rather, our
conduct of Turkish policy, for throughout the whole period England was
conducting the Turkish negotiations; indeed, as Bright said at the time,
she was carrying on the Turkish Government and ruling the Turkish Empire
through her ministers in Constantinople.

I will quote a speech of the period made in the House of Commons. It was
as follows:

Our opponents seem actuated by a frantic and bitter hostility to
Russia, and, without considering the calamities in which they might
involve this country, they have sought to urge it into a great war,
as they imagined, on behalf of European freedom, and in order to
cripple the resources of Russia....

The question is, whether the advantages both to Turkey and England
of avoiding war altogether, would have been less than those which
are likely to arise from the policy which the Government has
pursued? Now, if the noble Lord the Member for Tiverton is right in
saying that Turkey is a growing power, and that she has elements of
strength which unlearned persons like myself know nothing about;
surely no immediate, or sensible, or permanent mischief could have
arisen to her from the acceptance of the Vienna note, which all the
distinguished persons who agreed to it have declared to be
perfectly consistent with her honour and independence. If she had
been growing stronger and stronger of late years, surely she would
have grown still stronger in the future, and there might have been
a reasonable expectation that, whatever disadvantages she might
have suffered for a time from that note, her growing strength would
have enabled her to overcome them, while the peace of Europe might
have been preserved. But suppose that Turkey is not a growing
power, but that the Ottoman rule in Europe is tottering to its
fall, I come to the conclusion that, whatever advantages were
afforded to the Christian population of Turkey would have enabled
them to grow more rapidly in numbers, in industry, in wealth, in
intelligence, and in political power; and that, as they thus
increased in influence, they would have become more able, in case
any accident, which might not be far distant, occurred, to
supplant the Mahommedan rule, and to establish themselves in
Constantinople as a Christian State, which, I think, every man who
hears me will admit is infinitely more to be desired than that the
Mahommedan power should be permanently sustained by the bayonets of
France and the fleets of England. Europe would thus have been at
peace; for I do not think even the most bitter enemies of Russia
believe that the Emperor of Russia intended last year, if the
Vienna note or Prince Menchikoff's last and most moderate
proposition had been accepted, to have marched on Constantinople.
Indeed, he had pledged himself in the most distinct manner to
withdraw his troops at once from the Principalities, if the Vienna
note were accepted; and therefore in that case Turkey would have
been delivered from the presence of the foe; peace would for a time
have been secured for Europe; and the whole matter would have
drifted on to its natural solution--which is, that the Mahommedan
power in Europe should eventually succumb to the growing power of
the Christian population of the Turkish territories.

Now, looking back upon what has since happened, which view shows the
greater wisdom and prevision? That of the man who delivered this speech
(and he was John Bright) or those against whom he spoke? To which set of
principles has time given the greater justification?

Yet upon the men who resisted what we all admit, in this case at least,
to have been the false theories and who supported, what we equally admit
now, to have been the right principles, we poured the same sort of
ferocious contempt that we are apt now spasmodically to pour upon those
who, sixty years later, would prevent our drifting in the same blind
fashion into a war just as futile and bound to be infinitely more
disastrous--a war embodying the same "principles" supported by just the
same theories and just the same arguments which led us into this other
one.

I know full well the prejudice which the names I am about to cite is apt
to cause. We poured out upon the men who bore them a rancour, contempt
and hatred which few men in English public life have had to face.
Morley, in his life of Cobden, says of these two men--Cobden and Bright:

They had, as Lord Palmerston said, the whole world against them. It
was not merely the august personages of the Court, nor the
illustrious veterans in Government and diplomacy, nor the most
experienced politicians in Parliament, nor the powerful
journalists, nor the men versed in great affairs of business. It
was no light thing to confront even that solid mass of hostile
judgment. But besides all this, Cobden and Mr. Bright knew that the
country at large, even their trusty middle and industrial classes,
had turned their faces resolutely and angrily away from them. Their
own great instrument, the public meeting, was no longer theirs to
wield. The army of the Nonconformists, which has so seldom been
found fighting on the wrong side, was seriously divided.

Public opinion was bitterly and impatiently hostile and
intractable. Mr. Bright was burnt in effigy. Cobden, at a meeting
in his own constituency, after an energetic vindication of his
opinions, saw resolutions carried against him. Every morning they
were reviled in half the newspapers in the country as enemies of
the commonwealth. They were openly told that they were traitors,
and that it was a pity they could not be punished as traitors.

In the House, Lord Palmerston once began his reply by referring to
Mr. Bright as "the Honourable and Reverend gentleman," Cobden rose
to call him to order for this flippant and unbecoming phrase. Lord
Palmerston said he would not quarrel about words. Then went on to
say that he thought it right to tell Mr. Bright that his opinion
was a matter of entire difference, and that he treated his censure
with the most perfect indifference and contempt. On another
occasion he showed the same unmannerliness to Cobden himself.
Cobden had said that under certain circumstances he would fight, or
if he could not fight, he would work for the wounded in the
hospitals. "Well," said Lord Palmerston in reply, with the sarcasm
of a schoolboy's debating society, "there are many people in this
country who think that the party to which he belongs should go
immediately into a hospital of a different kind, and which I shall
not mention." This refined irony was a very gentle specimen of the
insult and contumely which was poured upon Cobden and Mr. Bright at
this time....

It is impossible not to regard the attitude of the two objects of
this vast unpopularity as one of the most truly honourable
spectacles in our political history. The moral fortitude, like the
political wisdom of these two strong men, begins to stand out with
a splendour that already recalls the great historic heights of
statesmanship and patriotism. Even now our heart-felt admiration
and gratitude goes out to them as it goes out to Burke for his
lofty and manful protests against the war with America and the
oppression of Ireland, and to Charles Fox for his bold and
strenuous resistance to the war with the French Republic.

Before indulging in the dementia which those names usually produce, will
the reader please note that it is not my business now to defend either
the general principles of Cobden and Bright or the political spirit
which they are supposed to represent. Let them be as sordid, mean,
unworthy, pusillanimous as you like--and as the best of us then said
they were ("a mean, vain, mischievous clique" even so good a man as Tom
Hughes could call them). We called them cowards--because practically
alone they faced a country which had become a howling mob; we called
their opponents "courageous" because with the whole country behind them
they habitually poured contempt upon the under dog.

And we thus hated these men because they did their best to dissuade us
from undertaking a certain war. Very good; we have had our war; we
carried our point, we prevented the break-up of the Turkish Empire;
those men were completely beaten. And they are dead. Cannot we afford
to set aside those old passions and see how far in one particular at
least they may have been right?

We admit, of course, if we are honest--happily everyone admits--that
these despised men were right and those who abused them were wrong. The
verdict of fact is there. Says Lord Morley:--

When we look back upon the affairs of that time, we see that there
were two policies open. Lord Palmerston's was one, Cobden and
Bright's the other. If we are to compare Lord Palmerston's
statesmanship and insight in the Eastern Question with that of his
two great adversaries, it is hard, in the light of all that has
happened since, to resist the conclusion that Cobden and Mr. Bright
were right, and Lord Palmerston was disastrously wrong. It is easy
to plead extenuating circumstances for the egregious mistakes in
Lord Palmerston's policy about the Eastern Question, the Suez Canal,
and some other important subjects; but the plea can only be allowed
after it has been frankly recognized that they really were mistakes,
and that these abused men exposed and avoided them. Lord Palmerston,
for instance, asked why the Czar could not be "satisfied, as we all
are, with the progressively liberal system of Turkey." Cobden, in
his pamphlet twenty years before, insisted that this progressively
liberal system of Turkey had no existence. Which of these two
propositions was true may be left to the decision of those who lent
to the Turk many millions of money on the strength of Lord
Palmerston's ignorant and delusive assurances. It was mainly owing
to Lord Palmerston, again, that the efforts of the war were
concentrated at Sebastopol. Sixty thousand English and French
troops, he said, with the co-operation of the fleets, would take
Sebastopol in six weeks. Cobden gave reasons for thinking very
differently, and urged that the destruction of Sebastopol, even when
it was achieved, would neither inflict a crushing blow to Russia,
nor prevent future attacks upon Turkey. Lord Palmerston's error may
have been intelligible and venial; nevertheless, as a fact, he was
in error and Cobden was not, and the error cost the nation one of
the most unfortunate, mortifying, and absolutely useless campaigns
in English history. Cobden held that if we were to defend Turkey
against Russia, the true policy was to use our navy, and not to send
a land force to the Crimea. Would any serious politician now be
found to deny it? We might prolong the list of propositions, general
and particular, which Lord Palmerston maintained and Cobden
traversed, from the beginning to the end of the Russian War. There
is not one of these propositions in which later events have not
shown that Cobden's knowledge was greater, his judgment cooler, his
insight more penetrating and comprehensive. The bankruptcy of the
Turkish Government, the further dismemberment of its Empire by the
Treaty of Berlin, the abrogation of the Black Sea Treaty, have
already done something to convince people that the two leaders saw
much further ahead in 1854 and 1855 than men who had passed all
their lives in foreign chanceries and the purlieus of Downing
Street.

It is startling to look back upon the bullying contempt which the
man who was blind permitted himself to show to the men who could
see. The truth is, that to Lord Palmerston it was still
incomprehensible and intolerable that a couple of manufacturers from
Lancashire should presume to teach him foreign policy. Still more
offensive to him was their introduction of morality into the
mysteries of the Foreign Office.[7]

What have peace theories to do with this war? asks the practical man,
who is the greatest mystic of all, contemptuously. Well, they have
everything to do with it. For if we had understood some peace theories a
little better a generation or two ago, if we had not allowed passion and
error and prejudice instead of reason to dominate our policy, the sum of
misery which these Balkan populations have known would have been
immeasurably less. It is quite true that we could not have prevented
this war by sending peace pamphlets to the Turk, or to the Balkanese,
for that matter, but we could have prevented it if we ourselves had read
them a generation or two since, just as our only means of preventing
future wars is by showing a little le