CHAPTER X[ToC]
POLITICAL AND HISTORICAL FACTORS
We think of political causes of war mainly as an aspect of the fact that nations desire always certain geographical objectives. These desires are represented in part by the policies of governments and leaders, but we must also think of nations as a whole as having desires, and as being moved by profound purposes. At once the question arises whether we shall think of these political objectives, and the wars the desires for them cause, as essentially the objects and the work of individuals. Do individuals in any real sense create history? This, of course, is a profound question and involves fundamental theories of history. Shall we accept the "great man" theory of history, and say that history is mainly the work of a few who are able to shape events with reference to policies of their own, or shall we think that forces that determine history reside rather in the instincts or desires of the common life of the people?
A psychological study of history inclines us to the belief that the forces that make history are mainly forces that do not exist as conscious purposes and are therefore not essentially political forces. One of the conditions of leadership seems to be that the leader shall seek his own personal ends and realize his own purposes for his country only within the field of the traditional and common objectives which are held by the people as a whole as their purpose in history. These are the materials with which the leader must work. Historically his work may seem decisive. Psychologically it is to be regarded as a complex effect of lawfully related social reactions. The motives of leader and people must have large common factors. The leader holds his power and his prestige by embodying in his own will and representing in his own conscious policies the will of the people and their idea of country as an historic entity. The leader is leader only in so far as he is recognized as representing the will of the "herd." As genius, this leader is manifestly creative, but the true genius in statesmanship is even rarer than genius elsewhere. The great leader is an artist. He must take certain vague or clear ambitions of the people, must accept the nation's historic objectives as the foundations of his policies, and working with these objects and desires make his own page of history. His glory and his prestige depend upon his fulfilling deep desires of his people. The forces with which he deals are plastic, but only within narrow limits. Leadership at best is a fragile thing. However autocratic the power, it is after all dependent upon the good will of the people, and the acceptance of the leader as one who is serving the interests of the people.
When we consider the nature and the objects of the ambitions and desires that the statesman or leader must fulfill, we see why the relations of ruler to people are difficult to understand. Nations do not know with clearness either what they desire or why at heart they desire the objectives that seem of most importance. People give economic and political reasons, but the consciousness of nations is subject to deep moods, and is influenced by remote events and traditions. Nations have generic desires as well as specific ones. They always crave empire; they all desire to have rank. They are always ambitious, jealous and watchful of one another. These general and more or less subconscious desires make their desires for specific objects intense, but they also make them peculiarly irrational. The heroic examples of history, hereditary emotions and the effects of specific events in the history of peoples complicate their politics, and often make rational politics impossible. Nations will not act in their own best interests, because they are governed by irrational motives. In this way certain disparities are often produced between the people and their practical statesmen, but history seems to show us that when these disparities exist in the region of fundamental desires and policies it is the leader who must yield. History seems to show us also that wars, coming in general out of the deeper motives of nations, do not belong to such an extent as is often supposed to the realm of politics. Political causes are often incidental causes and determine the time and place of wars but do not create them. Cramb (66) says that wars persist in spite of their unreason, because there is something transcendental that supports them, and this transcendental purpose is the desire for empire. Powers (75) says that nations fight for tangible things and also for intangible things. The tangible things are existence, commerce, independence, territory; nations also desire objects that are not useful, the worth of which consists in their satisfaction of taste. The ambition to own colonies, Powers thinks, is of this nature. Colonies are quite as much ornamental as they are useful. They convey the feeling and impression of power.
That these deep desires of nations as expressed in the ambition to reach certain geographical objectives are exceedingly strong, often if not always irrational, brutally arrogant and tenacious, the whole course of history teaches us. These desires are indeed the forces behind historical movements. They create politics and policies. War preexists in these irrational purposes. These purposes are charged with emotion, with prejudice, and tradition. It is with these motives that all practical politics must contend, and these motives are the forces that the statesman must use and make more rational.
The purposes of nations are usually if not always we say obscure and deep, existing in the form of ideals and tendencies, and likely to take the form of visions of empire wholly unrealizable. And yet there are always certain perfectly clear objectives upon which all the force of these half understood motives impinge. These objectives may or may not be economically rational or morally justifiable. We always know with certainty certain of these objectives for which any nation will if necessary fight. These objectives have often a long history behind them. They are surrounded by tradition, sincerely and even religiously sought. They are ideal objects which nations feel they have a right to possess. Every nation apparently believes itself the logical possessor of something it does not now hold (99). All peoples have their longings for these possessions, which are their vision of a greater self. These objects are often desired for reasons that are clear enough to all; but they are also often but the symbols of deeper desires. As such, nations act toward them with almost instinctive compulsion.