The part played by credit—as the sensory nerve of the economic organism—has, despite the appearances to the contrary in the early part of the War, confirmed those propositions that dealt with it. Credit—as the extension of the use of money—is society’s bookkeeping. The debauchery of the currencies means of course juggling with the promises to pay. The general relation of credit to a certain dependability upon the future has already been dealt with.[135] The object here is to call attention to the present admissions that the maintenance or re-creation of credit is in very truth an indispensable element in the recovery of Europe. Those admissions consist in the steps that are being taken internationally, the emphasis which the governments themselves are laying upon this factor. Yet ten years ago the ‘diplomatic expert’ positively resented the introduction of such a subject into the discussion of foreign affairs at all. Serious consideration of the subject was generally dismissed by the orthodox authority on international politics with some contemptuous reference to ‘cosmopolitan usury.’
Even now we seize every opportunity of disguising the truth to ourselves. In the midst of the chaos we may sometimes see flamboyant statements that England at any rate is greater and richer than before. (It is a statement, indeed, very apt to come from our European co-belligerents, worse off than ourselves.) It is true, of course, that we have extended our Empire; that we have to-day the same materials of wealth as—or more than—we had before the War; that we have improved technical knowledge. But we are learning that to turn all this to account there must be not only at home, but abroad, a widespread capacity for orderly co-operation; the diffusion throughout the world of a certain moral quality. And the war, for the time being, at least, has very greatly diminished that quality. Because Welsh miners have absorbed certain ideas and developed a certain temperament, the wealth of many millions who are not miners declines. The idea of a self-sufficing Empire that can disregard the chaos of the outside world recedes steadily into the background when we see the infection of certain ideas beginning the work of disintegration within the Empire. Our control over Egypt has almost vanished; that over India is endangered; our relations with Ireland affect those with America and even with some of our white colonies. Our Empire, too, depends upon the prevalence of certain ideas.
CHAPTER VII
COULD THE WAR HAVE BEEN PREVENTED?
‘BUT the real irrelevance of all this discussion,’ it will be said, ‘is that however complete our recognition of these truths might have been, that recognition would not have affected Germany’s action. We did not want territory, or colonies, or mines, or oil-wells, or phosphate islands, or railway concessions. We fought simply to resist aggression. The alternatives for us were sheer submission to aggression, or war, a war of self-defence.’
Let us see. Our danger came from Germany’s aggressiveness. What made her more aggressive than other nations, than those who later became our Allies—Russia, Rumania, Italy, Japan, France? Sheer original sin, apart from political or economic circumstance?
Now it was an extraordinary thing that those who were most clamant about the danger were for the most part quite ready to admit—even to urge and emphasise as part of their case—that Germany’s aggression was not due to inherent wickedness, but that any nation placed in her position would behave in just about the same way. That, indeed, was the view of very many pre-eminent before the War in their warnings of the German peril, of among others, Lord Roberts, Admiral Mahan, Mr Frederic Harrison, Mr Blatchford, Professor Wilkinson.
Let us recall, for instance, Mr Harrison’s case for German aggression—Germany’s ‘poor access to the sea and its expanding population’:—
‘A mighty nation of 65,000,000, with such superb resources both for peace and war, and such overweening pride in its own superiority and might, finds itself closed up in a ring-fence too narrow for its fecundity as for its pretensions, constructed more by history, geography, and circumstances than by design—a fence maintained by the fears rather than the hostility of its weaker neighbours. That is the rumbling subterranean volcano on which the European State system rests.
‘It is inevitable but that a nation with the magnificent resources of the German, hemmed in a territory so inadequate to their needs and pretensions, and dominated by a soldier, bureaucratic, and literary caste, all deeply imbued with the Bismarckian doctrine, should thirst to extend their dominions, and their power at any sacrifice—of life, of wealth, and of justice. One must take facts as they are, and it is idle to be blind to facts, or to rail against them. It is as silly to gloss over manifest perils as it is to preach moralities about them.... England, Europe, civilisation, is in imminent peril from German expansion.’[136]
Very well. We are to drop preaching moralities and look at the facts. Would successful war by us remove the economic and political causes which were part at least of the explanation of German aggression? Would her need for expansion become less? The preceding pages answer that question. Successful war by us would not dispose of the pressure of German population.