Present status and prospects of the Peace Movement

by Bertha von Suttner

The progress of the war in the Transvaal has shown, forcibly and terribly, what a false relation the possible advantages of war bear to its positive disadvantages. Fifty thousand of her youth, healthy and vigorous youth, has England lost in the past ten months; sixty-one million pounds sterling of her national wealth have been wasted; the respect and sympathy of the world have been recklessly sacrificed; the character of the nation has been brutalized by the passions aroused, and freedom, the pride of the British people, freedom of speech, as well as freedom of the individual, has been imperilled, for even now the spectre of conscription is raising its head. The fruits of half a century of national education have been destroyed in this one attack of war-fever. And in place of the great, submarine Channel-tunnel already planned, the fortification of Dover has been begun. India is devastated by a famine, and the money wasted in South Africa for the destruction of human life might have saved the famished ones.

And the end, the “bitter end,” of this campaign is not yet. There are no more decisive battles fought nowadays, even where one side has overwhelming force. There is nothing now save mutual extermination of the troops in the field, devastation of the land in which the combat takes place, cessation of commerce, danger of further complications and the carrying of infectious diseases into other lands.

The reports of Mr. Burdett-Coutts in the House of Commons in reference to the horrible condition of the sick and wounded in South Africa are a confirmation of what the advocates of peace have constantly voiced, namely, that, with our present means of destruction and our present methods of warfare, sanitation is an illusion.

And then came the news of the insurrection of the Boxers and the massacres of the missionaries in China. This, too, is the harvest of seed sown in Europe in these latter years. Apart from the fact that hatred of strangers is a barbarism, concerning which we lack the right to grow indignant so long as the story of anti-Semitic riots and expulsion of foreigners has a place upon European annals, everything was done by Europeans in China to arouse a righteous hatred of foreigners there. Dogmas and wares have been thrust upon the Chinese; there has been contemptuous treatment, appropriation of territory, open declarations as to the partition of China, backed by plans for the building of fleets. And running side by side with these things, in constant confirmation of mercenary greed and of militarism, with an inherent, blind tendency to expansion, the peaceable, non-military Empire was supplied with guns and cannons from our own factories and with instructors from our barracks.

Well, what matters it? No one cares to bother with the intricately interwoven network of origins and causes back of it all. Here were we faced by facts—a country in wild uproar, the government overthrown or in league with the rebels against foreigners, the legations bombarded, Ketteler murdered—such facts require action.

Here the opponents of the peace movement seem to be in the right. Surely, it is impossible to quietly look on while such things are happening; there is no opportunity for arbitration. What is there left but war? Is not that in some cases the only resource, the “ultima ratio?” Now, are ye convinced, ye dreamers, that conditions may at any time arise which will force upon men a resort to arms? Therefore there must be no cessation of armaments, no relaxation in the cultivation of a warlike spirit. Confess that you are beaten, that you have no answer.

Nay, but we do answer. As a well-ordered State maintains a police force to execute the decrees of its judges, to secure robbers and maniacs, to overpower mobs that throw stones and apply torches, to protect those who are persecuted by violence, so would an alliance of Culture-States, such as we contemplate, require an armed force to serve international right as an executive power. Power in the service of the right differs essentially from the power which pronounces all its decisions and purposes to be right. The individuals of a community are not as yet so virtuous, so rational, and so reliable as to render unnecessary every kind of protection and punishment. It is the same with nations. The nations of the earth are not as yet so cultured and so peaceable that a union of nations could exist without a tribunal or an armed force.

What has come to pass before our eyes? Spontaneously, without previous agreement, all nations decided to hurry their ships and troops to the relief of those whose lives were in danger; to punish the criminals, to restore order in the convulsed Empire of China; to re-establish organized government there. And since such an enterprise can succeed only when it is undertaken unanimously, there was suddenly formed a “world army,” a confraternity of previously antagonistic nations, to battle side by side in the name of civilization against an outburst of barbarism. Thus has the impulse of events begun the realization of that fundamental requirement urged by the advocates of the peace movement from the very first—unanimity among the Culture-States, a comradeship of co-operation, a setting aside of conflicting individual rights in the service of a higher solidarity of interest.

This solidarity of interest has now been recognized in the face of the Chinese danger. We recognized it long ago in the face of the danger of militarism. The threatened world-war, the ruin that impended, seemed to us such an abomination of barbarism, and the prevention of that calamity so imperative a duty of civilization, that conflicts of interest and all little bickerings and minor contentions might well be set aside.

A campaign carried on with a common mind and for a common purpose, such as that undertaken in China, would not have been prevented if it had been preceded by a cessation of further armaments, as suggested by Russia at The Hague, or even by a decided reduction of the standing armies. For—let my readers note carefully this fact—the “Culture-Army,” the police of international civilization, needs but be composed of a small but representative section of the various nations. The entire available force of Europe, America and Japan could not be sent to China at present, at any rate. When arms are used in the service of right only, the power of such police, or, instead of police—for the word has an unpleasant sound—let us say of such a knighthood of culture, would be overwhelming. For crime—within the limits of a civilized community this holds true as well—is usually committed by single individuals or small bands. It is the same among nations. If questions of common morals arose, whose validity is recognized as of interest to all, every single disturber of the peace, every single tyrant, every single land-grabber would be resisted in the execution of his purpose and would be punished by all. Had all civilized nations hastened to the aid of the Armenians,[^[1]] had they all advised Spain to relinquish Cuba, or hindered America in its desire to subjugate the Philippines; had they all insisted that England must listen to Krüger’s proposals for arbitration, the cruelties and conflicts of the latest slaughters of multitudes could have been avoided. Different nations can advance with united purpose against a common danger, and they can do so by means of the very elements that otherwise support and foster antagonism, namely, by means of their armies. Twice has this been demonstrated; once not long ago in Crete, and now in China. The German Kaiser could command the troops he sent to Eastern Asia to fight shoulder to shoulder with Frenchmen, Russians and Japanese. And it has been possible to appoint one general for this international army.