CHAPTER IX
THE CRUCIBLE OF WAR
If in the foregoing pages the Liberal party has come in for the larger share of criticism, the reason is, that during the ten critical years, while dangers were drawing to a head, a Liberal Government chanced to be in power. That things would have been managed better and more courageously had the Unionists been in power may be doubted; and certainly it is no part of my present task to champion any such theory.
The special type of politician whose influence has wrought so much evil of late is no peculiar product of the Liberal party. He is the product of the party system in its corrupt decadence. You find him in the ranks of the Opposition as well as in those of the Ministerialists, just as you find good and true men in both. In this last lies our hope. In our present trouble good and true men have a chance of taking things into their own hands, which has been denied to them for many generations.
This book has been written to establish the Need for National Service, in order that the British Empire may maintain itself securely in the present circumstances of the world. If this contention be true it is obvious that a corresponding Duty lies upon the whole nation to accept the burden of military service.
Neither need nor duty has ever been made clear to the British people by their leaders. Owing to the abuses of the party system, increasing steadily over a considerable period of years, a certain type of politician has been evolved, and has risen into great prominence—a type which does not trust the people, but only fears them. In order to maintain themselves and their parties in power, politicians of this type have darkened the eyes and drugged the spirit of the nation.
It is no part of the plan of this volume to offer criticisms upon the naval and military aspects of the present war, or upon the wisdom or unwisdom of the operations which have been undertaken by land and sea. All that need be said in this connection may be put into a very few words.
As we read and re-read British history we cannot but be impressed with the fact that our leading statesmen, misled by the very brilliancy of their intellectual endowments, have always been prone to two errors of policy, which the simpler mind of the soldier instinctively avoids. They have ever been too ready to conclude prematurely that a certain line of obstacles is so formidable that it cannot be forced; and they have also ever been too ready to accept the notion, that there must surely be some ingenious far way round, by which they may succeed in circumventing the infinite.
MAIN PRINCIPLE OF STRATEGY
The defect of brilliant brains is not necessarily a want of courage—daring there has usually been in plenty—but they are apt to lack fortitude. They are apt to abandon the assault upon positions which are not really invulnerable, and to go off, chasing after attractive butterflies, until they fall into quagmires. Dispersion of effort has always been the besetting sin of British statesmen and the curse of British policy. There is no clearer example of this than the case of William Pitt the Younger, who went on picking up sugar islands all over the world, when he ought to have been giving his whole strength to beating Napoleon.
Very few obstacles are really insurmountable, and it is usually the shortest and the safest course to stick to what has been already begun. Especially is this the case when your resources in trained soldiers and munitions of war are painfully restricted. At the one point, where you have decided to attack, the motto is push hard; and at all others, where you may be compelled to defend yourselves, the motto is hold fast.