And just as in the matter of burning witches a change of behavior was the outcome of a change of opinion, in its turn the result of a more scientific investigation of the facts, so in the same way a change in the political conduct of Europe can only come about as the result of a change of thought; and that change of thought will not come about so long as the energies of men in this matter are centred only upon perfecting instruments of warfare. It is not merely that better ideas can only result from more attention being given to the real meaning of facts, but that the direct tendency of war preparation—with the suspicion it necessarily engenders and the ill-temper to which it almost always gives rise—is to create both mechanical and psychological checks to improvement of opinion and understanding. Here, for instance, is General von Bernhardi, who has just published his book in favor of war as the regenerator of nations, urging that Germany should attack certain of her enemies before they are ready to attack her. Suppose the others reply by increasing their military force? It suits Bernhardi entirely. For what is the effect of this increase on the minds of Germans possibly disposed to disagree with Bernhardi? It is to silence them and to strengthen Bernhardi's hands. His policy, originally wrong, has become relatively right, because his arguments have been answered by force. For the silence of his might-be critics will still further encourage those of other nations who deem themselves threatened by this kind of opinion in Germany to increase their armaments; and these increases will still further tend to strengthen Bernhardi's school, and still further silence his critics. The process by which force tends to crush reason is, unhappily, cumulative and progressive. The vicious circle can only be broken by the introduction somewhere of the factor of reason.
And this is precisely, my critics urge, why we need do nothing but concentrate on the instruments of force!
The all but invariable attitude adopted by the man in the street in this whole discussion is about as follows:
"What, as practical men, we have to do, is to be stronger than our enemy; the rest is theory, and does not matter."
Well, the inevitable outcome of such an attitude is catastrophe. It leads us not toward, but away from, solution.
In the first edition of this book I wrote:
Are we immediately to cease preparation for war, since our defeat cannot advantage our enemy nor do us in the long run much harm? No such conclusion results from a study of the considerations elaborated here. It is evident that so long as the misconception we are dealing with is all but universal in Europe, so long as the nations believe that in some way the military and political subjugation of others will bring with it a tangible material advantage to the conqueror, we all do, in fact, stand in danger from such aggression. Not his interest, but what he deems to be his interest, will furnish the real motive of our prospective enemy's action. And as the illusion with which we are dealing does, indeed, dominate all those minds most active in European politics, we (in England) must, while this remains the case, regard an aggression, even such as that which Mr. Harrison foresees, as within the bounds of practical politics. (What is not within the bounds of possibility is the extent of devastation which he foresees as the result of such attack, which, I think, the foregoing pages sufficiently demonstrate.)
On this ground alone I deem that England, or any other nation, is justified in taking means of self-defence to prevent such aggression. This is not, therefore, a plea for disarmament irrespective of the action of other nations. So long as current political philosophy in Europe remains what it is, I would not urge the reduction of the British war budget by a single sovereign.
I see no reason to alter a word of this. But if preparation of the machinery of war is to be the only form of energy in this matter—if national effort is to neglect all other factors whatsoever—more and more will sincere and patriotic men have doubts as to whether they are justified in co-operating in further piling up the armaments of any country. Of the two risks involved—the risk of attack arising from a possible superiority of armament on the part of a rival, and the risk of drifting into conflict because, concentrating all our energies on the mere instrument of combat, we have taken no adequate trouble to understand the facts of this case—it is at least an arguable proposition that the second risk is the greater. And I am prompted to this expression of opinion without surrendering one iota of a lifelong and passionate belief that a nation attacked should defend itself to the last penny and to the last man.
In this matter it seems fatally easy to secure either one of two kinds of action: that of the "practical man" who limits his energies to securing a policy which will perfect the machinery of war and disregard anything else; or that of the Pacifist, who, persuaded of the brutality or immorality of war, is apt to deprecate effort directed at self-defence. What is needed is the type of activity which will include both halves of the problem: provision for education, for a Political Reformation in this matter, as well as such means of defence as will meantime counterbalance the existing impulse to aggression. To concentrate on either half to the exclusion of the other half is to render the whole problem insoluble.
What must inevitably happen if the nations take the line of the "practical man," and limit their energies simply and purely to piling up armaments?