The peril of British war councils in the past has always been (and maybe still is) the tendency of ingenious argument to get the better of sound judgment. In the very opposite of this lies safety. We find the true type of high policy, as well as of successful campaigning, in the cool and patient inflexibility of Wellington, holding fast by one main idea, forcing his way over one obstacle after another which had been pronounced invincible—through walled cities; into the deep valleys of the Pyrenees; across the Bidassoa—till from the crests of the Great Rhune and the Little his soldiers looked down at last upon the plains of France.
Our most urgent problem with regard to the present war, is how we may win it most thoroughly; but, in addition to this, there are two questions which have recently engaged a good deal of public attention. There is a Political question—what sort of European settlement is to take place after the war? And there is also a Criminal question—what sort of punishment shall be meted out, if crimes, contrary to the practice of war among civilised and humane states, have been committed by our antagonists?
I have not attempted to deal with either of these. They do not seem to be of extreme urgency; for unless, and until, we win the war it is somewhat idle to discuss the ultimate fate of Europe or the penalty of evil deeds. You cannot restore stolen property until you have recovered it, and you cannot punish a malefactor, nor is it very convenient even to try him, while he is still at large. If that be true, which was said of old by a great king—I do not make peace with barbarians but dictate the terms of their surrender—we are still a long way from that.
I have not occupied myself therefore with what are termed 'German atrocities.' So far as this matter is concerned, I am satisfied to let it rest for the present upon the German statement of intentions before war began,[[1]] and upon the proclamations which have been issued subsequently, with the object of justifying their mode of operations by sea and land. The case against Germany on her own admission, is quite strong enough without opening a further inquisition under this heading.[[2]]
WHAT WE ARE FIGHTING ABOUT
It is essential, however, to realise the falsities and perversities upon which the great fabric of German policy is founded; for otherwise we shall never understand either the nature of the enemy with whom we are at present engaged, or the full extent of the danger by which, not only we, but civilisation itself is now threatened. It is essential that the whole British race should understand the nature of the evils against which they are fighting—the ambitions of Germany—the ruthless despotism of the Prussian system—the new theories of right and wrong which have been evolved by thinkers who have been paid, promoted, and inspired by the State, in order to sanctify the imperial policy of spoliation.
It is also essential for us to realise the nature of those things for which we are fighting—what we shall save and secure for our posterity in case of victory; what we stand to lose in event of defeat. The preservation or ruin of our inheritance, spiritual and material—the maintenance or overthrow of our institutions, traditions, and ideas—the triumph, of these, or the supplanting of them by a wholly different order, which to our eyes wears the appearance of a vast machine under the control of savages—are the main issues of the present war. And when now at last, we face them squarely, we begin to wonder, why of late years, we have been wont to treat problems of national defence and imperial security with so much levity and indifference.
It is profitable to turn our eyes from the contemplation of German shortcomings inwards upon our own. If we have been guilty as a people during recent times of weakness, blindness, indolence, or cowardice, we should face these facts squarely, otherwise there is but a poor chance of arriving at better conditions. If we have refused to listen to unpleasant truths, and to exchange a drowsy and dangerous comfort against sacrifices which were necessary for security, it is foolish to lay the whole blame upon this or that public man, this or that government. For, after all, both public men and governments were our own creation; we chose them because we liked them; because it gave us pleasure and consolation to listen to their sayings; because their doings and their non-doings, their un-doings and their mis-doings were regarded with approval or indifference by the great bulk of our people.
It would be wise also to take to heart the lesson, plainly written across the record of the last nine months, that the present confusion of our political system is responsible, as much as anything—perhaps more than anything—for the depreciated currency of public character. The need is obvious for a Parliament and a Government chosen by the Empire, responsible to the Empire, and charged with the security of the Empire, and with no other task.