Advocate of Political Theory No. 2 says:—I deny that the excuse of justification which you give for your cruelty to others is a valid excuse or justification. Pacifism does not ask you to sacrifice your people, to betray the interest of your wards. You will serve their interests best by the policy we advocate. Your children will not be more assured of their sustenance by these conquests that attempt to render the feeding of foreign children more difficult; yours will be less secure. By co-operating with those others instead of using your energies against them, the resultant wealth....
Advocate No. 1:—Wealth! Interest! You introduce your wretched economic calculations of interest into a question of Patriotism. You have the soul of a bagman concerned only to restore ‘the blessed hour of tranquil money-getting,’ and Sir William Robertson Nicoll shall denounce you in the British Weekly!
And the discussion usually ends with this moral flourish and gestures of melodramatic indignation.
But are they honest gestures? Here are the upholders of a certain position who say:—‘In certain circumstances as when you are in a position of trustee, the only moral course, the only right course, is to be guided by the interests of your ward. Your duty then demands a calculation of advantage. You may not be generous at your ward’s expense. This is the justification of the “sacred egoism” of the poet.’
If in that case a critic says: ‘Very well. Let us consider what will be the best interests of your ward,’ is it really open to the first party to explain in a paroxysm of moral indignation: ‘You are making a shameful and disgraceful appeal to selfishness and avarice?’
This is not an attempt to answer one set of critics by quoting another set. The self-same people take those two attitudes. I have quoted above a passage of Admiral Mahan’s in which he declares that nations can never be expected to act from any other motive than that of interest (a generalisation, by the way, from which I should most emphatically dissent). He goes on to declare that Governments ‘must put first the rival interests of their own wards ... their own people,’ and are thus pushed to the acquisition of markets by means of military predominance.
Very well. The Great Illusion argued some of Admiral Mahan’s propositions in terms of interest and advantage. And then, when he desired to demolish that argument, he did not hesitate in a long article in the North American Review to write as follows:—
‘The purpose of armaments, in the minds of those maintaining them, is not primarily an economical advantage, in the sense of depriving a neighbour State of its own, or fear of such consequences to itself through the deliberate aggression of a rival having that particular end in view.... The fundamental proposition of the book is a mistake. Nations are under no illusion as to the unprofitableness of war in itself.... The entire conception of the work is itself an illusion, based upon a profound misreading of human action. To regard the world as governed by self-interest only is to live in a non-existent world, an ideal world, a world possessed by an idea much less worthy than those which mankind, to do it bare justice, persistently entertains.’[107]
Admiral Mahan was a writer of very great and deserved reputation, in the very first rank of those dealing with the relations of power to national politics, certainly incapable of any conscious dishonesty of opinion. Yet, as we have seen, his opinion on the most important fact of all about war—its ultimate purpose, and the reasons which justify it or provoke it—swings violently in absolute self-contradiction. And the flat contradiction here revealed shows—and this surely is the moral of such an incident—that he could never have put to himself detachedly, coldly, impartially the question: ‘What do I really believe about the motives of nations in War? To what do the facts as a whole really point?’ Had he done so, it might have been revealed to him that what really determined his opinion about the causes of war was a desire to justify the great profession of arms, to one side of which he had devoted his life and given years of earnest labour and study; to defend from some imputation of futility one of the most ancient of man’s activities that calls for some at least of the sublimest of human qualities. If a widened idealism clearly discredited that ancient institution, he was prepared to show that an ineradicable conflict of national interests rendered it inevitable. If it was shown that war was irrelevant to those conflicts, or ineffective as a means of protecting the interests concerned, he was prepared to show that the motives pushing to war were not those of interest at all.
It may be said that none the less the thesis under discussion substitutes one selfish argument for another; tries by appealing to self-interest (the self-interest of a group or nation) to turn selfishness from a destructive result to a more social result. Its basis is self. Even that is not really true. For, first, that argument ignores the question of trusteeship; and, secondly, it involves a confusion between the motive of a given policy and the criterion by which its goodness or badness shall be tested.