Ploughshare and Pruning-Hook: Ten Lectures on Social Subjects

by Laurence Housman

How it came about is really not difficult to explain. When primitive man began to develop the rudiments of society (the group, or the herd) he did so mainly for self-preservation. In the struggle for existence coordinated numbers gave him a better chance; and giving him a better chance of life, they gave him also a better chance of self-development and self-enjoyment. But into that early society man brought not only his social instincts but his predatory instincts as well. And while the group helped him to prey more effectively on those left outside, it did not prevent him from preying in a certain measure on those within. The exceptionally strong man had an exceptional value in his own tribe; and he exacted an exceptional price for it—in wives, or in slaves captured in war, or in the division of the spoil. It was the same, as society developed, with the exceptionally resourceful leader; brain began to count above muscle; and the men of exceptional ability acquired the wealth. And you know perfectly well, without my going further into detail, that out of the price exacted within the community (whose broad interests were in common) separate and conflicting interests arose; the interest which secured political control exacted from all the dependent interests an unfair price for its services; and wherever slavery was an established part of social development, man did not love his neighbour as himself, he only loved him as his chattel.

You may take a big jump through history, from primitive to feudal, from feudal to modern times; and you will still find the same interests strong in every state, using their inherited control of wealth, of organisation, and of law, to extract advantage to themselves from the weaker, and the less educated members of the community; and always doing it in the name of the commonwealth—the strength and stability of the State. Only the other day (in a State as advanced as any in its democratic faith and its doctrine of equality for all—the United States of America) the moment there was a temporary breakdown in the legal safeguards against child-labour—there was a great organised rush in certain States of conscripted child-labour into industry—conscripted not by the State but by capital, exploiting the increased need of the wage-earning classes brought about by the raised prices of war.

The men who do that kind of thing (and they are men of great power and influence in the State) still only love their neighbours as their chattels, and still take advantage of all forms of law, or absence of law, to keep established as far as they can the conditions of social slavery. You may say that a thing like that lies outside the law, or that it is an abuse which legislation has not yet overtaken and put an end to; but what is more important and more significant is that it is an abuse which public opinion in those States where it was done had not overtaken and put an end to, or not merely put an end to, but made impossible. It makes it impossible for a black man over there to marry a white woman; and if it can do the one it can do the other.

But what are those people doing? They are merely reflecting in their own personal affairs an ideal which lies engrained in every State which puts self-interest above the interest of the whole human race. And that, in our present transitional stage, is the standpoint of every country to-day. In our heart of hearts we still hold Nationalism more important than Internationalism. And “my country right or wrong” is still for some people the last word in morality; rather than admit their country to be in the wrong they will let morality go.

In that matter, indeed, the world to-day seems to be divided into two schools. There is one school which so exalts the idea of the State as to say that the State can do no wrong: that if morality and State-interest conflict morality must go under, or rather that morals only exist to subserve State-interests,—and being a State-product, the State has the right to limit their application. We are fighting to-day against a race which is charged with having taken up that attitude; and the pronouncements of some of its most distinguished writers, as well as certain methods which it has employed in war, seem to bear out the charge. But when it comes to war, that particular school of State-ethics gives itself away by protesting that the other States which are in hostile alliance against it are behaving very wrongly indeed—though by its own doctrine (States being above morals) they are incapable of wrong. It cannot stick to its own thesis.

But what are we to say if that other school, which admits that the State can do wrong; but is not going to allow the State to be punished for doing wrong if that State happens to be its own? It is not that this school does not believe in punishment; it believes in it enthusiastically, rapturously, so long as it is directed against the wrong-doing of some other State. Punishment is good for other States, when they do wrong; without punishment the justice of God would not be satisfied. But for their own particular State punishment is bad, and is no longer to be advocated. And so you may say—looking back in history—that your country was quite wrong in waging such and such a war; but patriotism forbids the wish in that case that right should have prevailed and the justice of God been satisfied.

Now that school was very vocal in England during the Boer War; and I daresay during the Opium War with China; and I daresay, also, during the American War of Independence—very loud that we were in the wrong; but not at all admitting, for that reason, that it would be good for us to be beaten. But I think it should be one of our proudest boasts that, in the long run (not immediately—not perhaps for a generation or two) the political and moral good sense of this country goes back upon the teaching of that school. I believe that on the whole we are glad that we were beaten in the war with America; and that we are glad we were beaten because we were in the wrong. And, perhaps, some day—not yet, for our fear of the Yellow Race is still greater than our fear of any white race you can name—but, perhaps, some day we may be sorry that we were not beaten to a standstill in our opium war with China. (I see, incidentally, that to-day we are addressing a sharp remonstrance to the Chinese Government, because it is now doing that very thing which we then compelled it to do at the point of the bayonet—permitting, namely, the opium trade to be revived. That remonstrance only came, however, after we had sold to China sufficient opium to last its medical needs for 140 years!)

Now those acts of our national past, which we now reprobate, were only bad prominent expressions of the fundamental idea on which the modern State runs its foreign policies—reflecting outwardly something which lives strongly engrained in our midst—the Will to Power. It is because that principle is more firmly established in the world of diplomacy than either the Will to Serve or the Will to Love, that our policies have been able to shape themselves. It was not because we wished to give the Heathen Chinee a good time that we forced our opium upon him; it was because we wanted to give our opium trade good returns. And that was merely a faithful reflection of what was going on at home. It was because we wanted—or because our ruling classes wanted—to give capital good returns, that the working classes were not allowed to combine, that child-labour, and sweated industries remained like institutions in our midst, that legislation in the interests of labour and of women and children fell hopelessly into arrears. Democracy, you may say, has done away with all that: well, with some of it. In proportion to the broadening of its power in the State, Democracy has looked after its own interests. But so long as the average human mind is bent upon securing advantage to the detriment of others, or upon securing for itself privileges not to be shared by others, that mind will inevitably be reflected in the way we work our State institutions, and the form we give to our foreign policies. And always, and in every instance, you will find, if you follow it out, that this inclination to secure advantage to the detriment of others always lands you in an ethical contradiction unless your ideal is entirely inhuman and non-social. It is inconsistent with that community of interest to which social order pretends. We set up laws for the good of the State; and we call them equal laws. And if they are good laws, and if we love our country, we must necessarily love the laws which are for the good of our country, and embrace them with equal fervour, whether they touch us or whether they touch our neighbours. But when a member of our own family commits a theft, or a forgery, we do everything we can to save him from the operation of that law which we think so good for others. And if we do; then our affection or respect for the law is entirely one-sided and impure. And the people who make laws and devise punishments upon those unequal premises are not at all likely to make their laws just, or their forms of punishment wise.