So far as I can judge, the specific problems characteristic of the war neuroses are to be found in connection with two broad groups of mental processes. One of these relates to the question of war adapttation considered above, the other to that of fear. The latter is hardly to be regarded as a sub-group of the former, inasmuch as there is no readjustment or transvaluation of values concerned, as there typically is with the former. The moral attitude towards fear, and the conflicts arising in connection with it, remain the same in war as in peace. In both cases it is considered a moral weakness to display or be influenced by fear, and especially to give in to it at the cost of not doing one’s duty. The soldier who would like to escape from shell fire is, so far as moral values are concerned, in the same position as a man in peace-time who will not venture his life to save a drowning child. Indeed, the conflict cannot be as sharp in the case of the soldier, for he would find very widespread and thorough sympathy for his quite comprehensible desire, and there would be much less social blame or guilt attaching to him than to the man in the other situation mentioned. So that the problem of fear, which we all agree plays a central part in connection with the typical war neuroses, seems to be apart from that of war adaptation in general as expounded above.
Before discussing the problem of fear, however, I should like at this point to review the position and see how far we have got in the attempt to approximate the facts of war neuroses to the psycho-analytical theory. This theory of the neuroses is a very elaborate one, including many problems of unconscious mechanisms, distinctions between the predispositions and mechanisms characteristic of the different neuroses, and so on, but it is possible to formulate the main principles of it along fairly simple lines, and I now propose to do this in a series of statements.
(1) The first principle in Freud’s theory of neurotic symptoms is that they are of volitional origin. This principle, long suspected by both the medical and the lay public, and the real reason why in the past they have been so confounded with malingering, would be at once evident were it not for the fact that it is not true of volition in the ordinary sense of conscious deliberate voluntary purpose. In other words, it is not true of the will as a whole, but only of a part of it—namely, a part that the patient is not aware of. Thus, neuroses are not diseases or accidents that happen to a person, as the French school of psychopathology maintains, but are phenomena produced and brought about by some tendency in the person’s mind, and for specific purposes. Freud distinguishes three classes of motives that operate in this way, one essential, the other two not. The indispensable one is an unconscious desire to obtain pleasure by gratifying in the imagination some repressed and dissociated impulse, a motive, therefore, arising in the part of the mind that is not in harmony with the ego-ideal. A second motive is to achieve some end in the outer world; for instance sympathy from an unkind husband, which the person finds easier to do by means of a neurosis than in other ways. The third set of motives has the same purpose as the last, but may be distinguished from it in that they concern the making use of an already existing neurosis rather than the helping to bring one about. Both the latter sets are usually, but not always, unconscious: more strictly, they are preconscious—that is, they do not relate to deeply buried tendencies, and so are correspondingly easy to reveal; Freud terms them the primary and secondary “gain of illness” respectively. Now I take it that this principle of volitional origin is no longer very widely questioned by modern psychopathologists, and in the case of war neuroses the main motives are visible and comprehensible enough—namely, the desire to find some good reason for escaping from the horrors of warfare.
(2) The second principle is that all neurotic symptoms are the product of an intrapsychical conflict which the person has failed satisfactorily to resolve, and that they constitute a compromise formation between the two conflicting forces. Here, again, I think that those who have been investigating the psychology of war neuroses will agree with this principle. MacCurdy,[12] in particular, has described in great detail the conflict that arises in soldiers between, on the one hand, the motives actuating to continuance at duty and concealment of growing sense of incapacity and apprehension, and, on the other, the awful sense of failure accompanying the sometimes almost overwhelming desire to escape from the horrors of their position. The neurosis offers a way out of this dilemma, the only way that the particular person is able to find, and the actual symptoms, which are often grossly incapacitating, such as blindness, represent the fulfilment of the desire against which the man has been fighting. We reach, therefore, the wish-fulfilment part of Freud’s theory.
(3) The third principle is that the operative wish that leads to the creation of the neurosis is an unconscious one. Freud means this in the full sense of the word, and in this sense the principle has not yet been confirmed from the experience of the war neuroses. There are, however, different degrees of unconsciousness of a mental process, and the important point to Freud is not so much the degree of the unawareness in itself—this being largely an index of the repression—as the repression or dissociation that has led to the unawareness. What he maintains is that the wish producing the neurosis is one that is not in harmony with the ego-ideal, and which is therefore kept at as great a distance as possible from it. Anyone who has read the touching accounts given by MacCurdy or Rivers[13] of the shame that soldiers feel at their increasing sense of fear, and the efforts they make to fight against it, to conceal it from others, and if possible from themselves, will recognise that the wish in question is one alien to the ego-ideal and is well on in the first stages of repression, even if it is half-avowed.
(4) The fourth principle is that current repressed wishes cannot directly produce a neurosis, but do so only by reviving and reinforcing the wishes that have been repressed in older unresolved conflicts. According to Freud, a pathogenetic disappointment or difficulty in readjustment leads first to an introversion or turning inwards of feeling, and the wish that has been baulked seeks some other mode of gratification. It tends to regress back to an older period of life, and thus to become associated with similarly baulked and repressed wishes belonging to older conflicts. It is the combination of these two, the present and the old, that is the characteristic mark of the pathogenesis of neurotic disorders as distinct from other modes of reaction to the difficulties of life.
Freud considers that there are probably always three factors in the causation of any neurosis: a specific hereditary predisposition, secondly an unresolved infantile conflict which means that the person has not satisfactorily developed past a given stage of individual evolution—in other words, that he has been subjected to what is called an “infantile fixation” at a given point in development, and thirdly the current difficulty. There is a reciprocal relationship between these three factors, so that if any one is especially pronounced the others may be correspondingly less important. For instance, if the hereditary factor is very pronounced then a person may become neurotic from the quite ordinary experiences of childhood and adult life, for he is incapable of dealing adequately with them. In the case of war neuroses it is evident that the current factor is of the greatest importance, being, indeed, the only one that so far has attracted attention. The only traces of infantile factors I have seen noted have been the instances where the localisation of hysterical symptoms seems to have been determined in part by the site of old injuries, and in a general way the many traits of childhood, such as sensitiveness to slights, self-centredment, and desire to be guarded, protected, and helped, which are sometimes very evident in the cases of war neurosis.
We thus see that only one half of the psycho-analytical theory has so far been confirmed by the observations of war neuroses. According to this theory, there are typically two sets of wishes concerned in the production of any neurosis. One of these, the “primary gain of illness”, a current one, alien to the conscious ego ideal, and therefore half repressed and only half conscious—if that—has not only been demonstrated by a number of observers, but has been shewn to be of tremendous importance, and certainly the effects of treatment largely turn on the way in which it is dealt with. The other factor, the infantile and altogether repressed and unconscious one, which, according to psycho-analysis, is also essential to the production of a neurosis, has not been systematically sought for, though I have found it in the few cases of which I have been able to make a full study. Its presence or absence is a matter of greater theoretical importance than might perhaps appear, even though its practical importance may often not be great. For my own part I have the utmost difficulty in believing that a current wish, however strong that is half conscious and sometimes fully conscious can ever in itself produce a neurosis, for it contradicts all one’s knowledge concerning the nature of neuroses, as well as my experience, such as it is, of war neuroses themselves. I would therefore urge that no conclusion is possible on the matter one way or the other until adequate investigations have been carried out. That it has its practical side also will be pointed out when we come to consider the chronic cases where war neuroses pass over into peace ones.
(5) The principle of the psycho-analytical theory that has aroused the strongest opposition is that the primary repressed wish ultimately responsible for the neurosis is always of a sexual nature, so that the conflict is between the two groups of instincts that go to make up the whole personality, those concerned respectively with preservation of the self and of the species. Dr. MacCurdy has suggested to me that this is so only because, apart from war, there is no instinct that comes into such strong conflict with the ego-ideal as does the sexual one, but that in war the conflict between the instinct for self-preservation and the ego-ideal is enough to lead to a neurosis. This may seem very plausible, but I shall be surprised if it is confirmed by future research. That a neurosis, which after all is a disorder of the unconscious imagination, should arise from a conflict between two states of mind that are fully in contact with reality would be something entirely contradictory of our past experience, as would also a neurosis arising from a conflict between two tendencies both belonging to the ego. I shall venture to put forward an alternative hypothesis presently when discussing the subject of fear, which we have next to consider.