Memoir and Letters of Francis W. Newman

by I. Giberne Sieveking

After all, this is not, as Francis Newman insists, a new departure in any way. He points to other countries to show that as a fact, centralization has been gradually establishing itself in England, though in other times decentralization was a very potent force in our midst, and a success.

In 1875, Newman quotes the following countries as regards their local legislatures: "Look … at Switzerland. Environed by ambitious neighbours far superior in power, her institutions have well stood the severe trial of time. She has her Central Diet and Ministry, vigorous enough; but also in her several cantons she has local legislatures, each with well-trained soldiers, simply because every man is bound to learn the use of arms, as Englishmen used to be; therefore they need no standing army…. Italy also has local legislatures which belonged to independent States—Sicily, Naples, Piedmont, Tuscany, and so on—besides her National Parliament…. In Hungary notoriously the national spirit has been maintained for three centuries and a half … solely by the independent energy of the local institutions…. The seven united provinces of Holland similarly prove the vitality of freedom and good order when free local power is combined with a strong centre…. And on a far greater scale we have… an illustrious example in the United States—a mighty monarchy and a mighty republic…. The American Union started in that advanced stage. It is a cluster of some thirty-seven States, each with its own legislature, for all which, and for the outlying territories, the Federal Parliament also legislates. Contrast their condition with ours. Only of late has their population outrun ours. They have thirty-eight legislative systems: we have one only. Surely our system is a barbarous simplicity. France … goes beyond us. Nay, our Indian centralization is worse still. No virtue, no wisdom in rulers can make up when the defect of organs lays on them enormous duties."

Finally, Newman urges for provincial chambers that they should be on the "scale of petty kingdoms," and not of mere town populations. "All parts and ranks of the local community are then forced to take interest in local concerns. Each province becomes a normal school for Parliament, and a ladder by which all high talent of poor men may rise."

SHOULD NOT THE CONSENT OF THE NATION BE OBTAINED BEFORE MAKING WAR?

This was a question constantly in Newman's mind. That, and the answer.

Everyone is doubtless aware that he wrote a very great deal upon the subject, and spoke a great deal also. In the third volume of the Miscellanies he has four or five articles on this great question. The first was printed in 1859, the second in 1860, the third 1871, and the fourth 1877. Then in "Europe of the Near Future" (1871) he treats it at greater scope, chiefly in regard to the Franco-German War. In "Deliberations before War" (1859) Newman takes the two points of view from which the question of war is as a rule regarded—the Moral and the International. The first considers if a war is a just one or no, and considers the prosecutor of an unjust war as neither more nor less than a robber. The International (or second) "looks only to the ostensible marks which make a war 'lawful'—that is to say, 'regular.'" As Newman very rightly says, however, there is a third point of view, which he calls the "National." I shall quote his words regarding this third view. "Inasmuch as the whole nation is implicated in a war, when once it is undertaken— inasmuch as we all have the same national disgrace if it is unjust, the same suffering if it is tedious, the same loss if it is expensive—it is an obvious principle of justice … that every side of the nation should be heard to plead against it by its legitimate representatives."

I cannot forbear saying that at the present moment of writing this last is impossible, for those who often suffer most from a war—at any rate longest—are the women, and there is no legitimate representation for this large body of the community. Thus, even if the men of the nation could "plead against" a war, the women would have no voice.

Newman urges that there are many among us who firmly believe that a time is coming when no destructive weapons will be made, and "universal peace shall reign." He believes himself, he says, that "a time will come when men will look back in wonder and pity on our present barbarism, a time at which to begin a war—unless previously justified by the verdict of an impartial tribunal, bound in honour to overlook what is partially expedient to their own nation or party—will be esteemed a high and dreadful crime." These are strong words, but they are not too strong, for, looked at by any thoughtful man or woman, war is an anomaly. It proves nothing by reason; it simply acts by brute force, and by sheer superior strength the victor, at the sword's point, drives defeat down the throat of the defeated. But the arbitrary destruction of thousands of men on each side who slay each other at the word of command (often for no reason that concerns their own welfare, but only on account of some political quarrel), is, from the point of view of civilization, of morality, of humanity, without reasonable defence. It throws civilization, land development, education back incalculably. Indeed, when one regards the matter au fond, one sees that nothing could hinder the true civilization, the true humanity, more than does war. It is barbaric; there is no other word for it. It is the great flaw that runs throughout the whole garment of humanity.

Newman reminds us that it is only within very recent years "that the atrocious system of paying head money to soldiers and sailors for the numbers they kill, was abolished by us."

John Stuart Mill very rightly said "that our force ought to be as strong as possible for defence and as weak as might be for offence," only that it is so very difficult sometimes to tell which is which.