“Historical sentiment” is largely factitious.

But it is impossible to argue a priori from the presence of one or even several of these factors to the existence of a nationality: they may have been there for ages and kindled no response. And it is impossible to argue from one case to another: precisely the same group of factors may produce nationality here, and there have no effect. Great Britain is a nation by geography and tradition, though important Keltic-speaking sections of the population in Wales and the Highlands do not understand the predominant English language. Ireland is an island smaller still and more compact, and is further unified by the almost complete predominance of the same English language, for the Keltic speech is incomparably less vigorous here than in Wales; yet the absence of common tradition combines with religious differences to divide the country into two nationalities, at present sharply distinct from one another and none the less hostile because their national psychology is strikingly the same. Germany is divided by religion in precisely the same way as Ireland, her common tradition is hardly stronger, and her geographical boundaries quite vague: yet she has built up her present concentrated national feeling in three generations. Italy has geography, language and traditions to bind her together; and yet a more vivid tradition is able to separate the Ticinese from his neighbors, and bind him to people of alien speech and religion beyond a great mountain range. The Armenian nationality does not occupy a continuous territory, but lives by language and religion. The Jews speak the language of the country where they sojourn, but religion and tradition hold them together. The agnostic Jew accepts not only the language but all the other customs of his adopted countrymen, but tradition by itself is too strong for him: he remains a Jew and cannot be assimilated.

These instances taken at random show that each case must be judged on its own merits, and that no argument holds good except the ascertained wish of the living population actually concerned. Above all we must be on our guard against “historical sentiment,” that is, against arguments taken from conditions which once existed or were supposed to exist, but which are no longer real at the present moment. They are most easily illustrated by extreme examples. Italian newspapers have described the annexation of Tripoli as “recovering the soil of the Fatherland” because it was once a province of the Roman Empire; and the entire region of Macedonia is claimed by Greek chauvinists on the one hand, because it contains the site of Pella, the cradle of Alexander the Great in the fourth century B.C., and by Bulgarians on the other, because Ohhrida, in the opposite corner, was the capital of the Bulgarian Tzardom in the tenth century A.D., though the drift of time has buried the tradition of the latter almost as deep as the achievements of the “Emathian Conqueror,” on which the modern Greek nationalist insists so strongly.

We must understand nationalistic aims and diversities.

The national problems of Europe are numerous, and each one is beset by arguments good, bad, and indifferent, some no more specious than the above, some so elaborately staged that it requires the greatest discernment to expose them. Vast bodies of people, with brains and money at their disposal, have been interested in obscuring the truth, and have used every instrument in their power to do so. It is therefore essential for us in England to take up these hitherto remote and uninteresting national problems in earnest, to get as near to the truth as we possibly can, both as to what the respective wishes of the different populations are, and as to how far it is possible to reconcile them with each other and with Geography; and to come to the conference which will follow the war and is so much more important than the war itself, with a clear idea of the alternative solutions and a mature judgment upon their relative merits.

To accomplish this we need a coordination of knowledge on a large scale, knowledge of history, geography, religion, national psychology and public opinion....

Individuality and tolerance must be our international ideals.

With the growth of civilization the human and the territorial unit become less and less identical. In a primitive community the members are undifferentiated from one another: the true human unit is the total group, and not the individual, and the territory this group occupies is a unit too, self-sufficing and cut off from intercourse with the next valley. In modern Europe every sub-group and every individual has developed a “character” or “individuality” of its own which must have free play; while the growth of communications, elaboration of organization, and economic interdependence of the whole world have broken down the barriers between region and region. The minimum territorial block that can be organized efficiently as a separate political unit according to modern standards is constantly growing in size: the maximum human group which can hold together without serious internal divergence is as steadily diminishing.

This would look like an impasse, were it not corrected by the virtues of civilization itself. We started with the fact that the essence of civilization was “Forethought” and its ideal the “power of free choice”: the complementary side of this ideal, on the principle “Do as you would be done by,” is to allow free choice to others when they are in your power. It is a virtue with as many names as there are spheres of human life: “Forbearance,” “Toleration,” “Constitutionalism.”...

Arnold J. Toynbee, “Nationality and the War,” chap. I.