“Unless the presence of contradiction does not much rather prove that the passages in question cannot possibly be of Divine origin.” This answer trembled on my lips, but I suppressed it, in order not to change entirely the object of the discussion.
“Look here, reverend councillor,” said Frederick, now mingling in the conversation, “a chief captain of artillery in the seventeenth century has laid down much more forcibly than you have done the justifiability of the horrors of war by an appeal to the Bible. I extracted the passage and have read it to my wife, but she did not sympathise with the spirit expressed in it. I confess the thing seems to me—well, a little strong—and I should like to hear your view about it. If you will allow me I will fetch the paper.” So he took a sheet of paper out of a drawer, unfolded it, and read:—
War was invented by God Himself and taught to men. God posted the first soldier with a two-edged sword in front of Paradise, to keep out of it Adam, the first rebel. You may read in Deuteronomy how God, by means of Moses, gives people encouragement to victory and even gives them His priests for advanced guard.
The first stratagem was practised at the city of Ai. In this war of the Jews the sun had to stand and show light in the firmament for two whole days together in order that the war and the victory might be followed up, and many thousands put to the sword and their kings hung up. All the horrors of war are permitted by God, for the whole of Holy Writ is full of them, and proves satisfactorily that regular war is an invention of God Himself, and that therefore every man can with a clear conscience serve in it, and can live and die in it. He is permitted to burn his enemy, or brand him, flay him, shoot him down, or hack him to pieces. All this is just, let others judge as they please about it. God in these passages has forbidden nothing, but has permitted the most horrible ways of destroying men.
The prophetess Deborah nailed the head of Sisera, the leader in that war, to the earth. Gideon, chosen by God as the leader of the people, revenged himself on the princes of Succoth, who had refused him some provisions, like a soldier; sword and fire were too poor, they were thrashed and torn in pieces with thorns; and, as before, this was righteous in the sight of God. The royal prophet David, a man after God’s own heart, invented the most cruel tortures for the vanquished children of Ammon at Rabboth—he had them hewed with sabres, caused chariots to drive over them, cut them with knives, and dragged them through the places where they made the bricks, and so did he in all the towns of the children of Ammon. Besides this——
“That is horrible, abominable!” broke in the chief chaplain. “It could only be a rough soldier of the savage times of the Thirty Years’ War to whom it would appear natural to produce examples like these out of the Bible, in order to found thereon a justification for their cruelties against the enemy. We preach quite other doctrine now—nothing more is to be striven for in war than to make your adversary incapable of harm—even up to his death—but without any evil design against the life of any individual. If any such design enters in, or even any murderous desire or any cruelty against those who are defenceless, in such a case killing in war is exactly as immoral and as impermissible as in peace. No doubt in past centuries, when the adventurous delight in feud and quarrel prevailed, when leaders of Landsknechts and vagrant persons carried on war as a trade, in such times an artillery captain might write in that style; but in the present day armies are not put into the field for gold and booty, not without knowing for whom or for what, but for the highest ideal objects of mankind—for freedom, independence, nationality; for justice, faith, honour, purity and morality——”
“You, reverend consistorial councillor,” I interposed, “are at least milder and more humane than the artillery captain. And thus you have no proofs out of the Bible to allege for the lawfulness of cruelty, in which our forefathers of the middle ages, and presumably also the ancient Hebrews, took a pleasure; and yet it is the same book, and the same Jehovah, and He cannot have become milder—and everybody still gets from Him as much support as suits his views.”
On this I received a slight sermon of rebuke for my want of reverence for the Word of God, and for my want of judgment in reading it.
Still I succeeded in leading the conversation back again to our especial subject; and now the consistorial councillor launched out into a long dissertation, and one which this time was allowed to be uninterrupted, about the connection between the military and Christian spirits; he spoke of the religious devotion “which is indwelling in the oath to the standard, when the colours are carried solemnly, with the accompaniment of music, into the church, with the guard of honour of two officers with drawn swords; and there the recruit marches out for the first time in public with helmet and side-arms, and for the first time follows the colours of his company, unfolded now before the altar of the Lord torn as they are and stained with the honourable marks of the battles in which they have been carried”. He spoke of the prayer offered every Sunday in church: “Preserve the royal commander of the army, and all true servants of their king and country. Teach them as Christians to think of their end, and grant that their service may be blessed, to the honour and the good of the country.” “God with us,” he went on, “is, as you know, the motto on the belt-buckle with which the foot-soldier buckles on his side-arms, and this watchword should give him confidence. If God be with us, who can be against us? Then there are also the universal days of public prayer and humiliation which are ordered at the commencement of a war that the people may beg for God’s help in prayer, both in the comfortable hope of His support and in the confidence through that support of gaining a victorious termination. What devotion does there not lie in this for the departing warrior! How mightily does this exalt his delight in battle and in death! He can with comfort enter into the ranks of the warriors when his king calls for him, and can reckon on victory and blessing for the cause of right. God the Lord will no more deprive our people of this than His people Israel of old, if only it is with prayers to Him that we carry on the work of battle. The intimate alliance between prayer and victory, between piety and valour, easily follows—for what can more assure one of joy in the prospect of death than the confidence that if our last hour should strike in the confusion of the battle we shall find favour at the hands of the Judge in heaven? Fidelity and faith, in union with manliness and warlike virtue, belong to the oldest traditions of our people.”
He went on in this tone for a long time more—now with oily mildness, with sunken head, in the softest tones speaking of love, humility, “little children,” salvation, and “precious things”—now with military voice of command, with a proud, erect attitude, talking of strict morals and stern discipline—sharp and cutting—of sword and shield. The word “joy” was never used otherwise than in composition with death, battle, and dying. From the point of view of the army chaplain, to kill and to be killed seemed to be the most exquisite delights in life. Everything else is exhausting, sinful pleasure. Verses, too, were recited. First this of Körner:—