Zangwill's Prophetic Spirit in "The War God"

ISRAEL ZANGWILL knows the Jews, not as George Eliot did, through a process of philosophic induction, but at first hand, because he is a Jew by birth and breeding. He, unlike Heine, has never tried to conceal the fact that he is a Jew. In Israel Zangwill all the tenderness and sympathy, all the tenacity, the suppleness and adaptability, and it may be added, the baffling inconsistencies of his race appear.

Inconsistent he certainly is. He has been an ardent Zionist, and in his story "Transitional" (from They That Walk in Darkness) he seems to hold that assimilation will never solve the Jewish problem; yet in The Melting Pot he obviously regards assimilation as the inevitable and desirable end of Judaism.

In spite of his inconsistencies, Zangwill is one in whom the ancient ideals of Israel live again. It is in the spirit of the prophets that he wrote The War God (1912). This play, with all its faults as an acting drama, is nevertheless a remarkable document, voicing, as it does, on the very eve of the breaking down of European civilization, the old prophetic protest against the brutality and waste of war.

This protest dates back to at least the ninth century b.c. It may not be generally known that it was a Hebrew prophet who first advocated the humane treatment of prisoners of war. The story is told in the Second Book of Kings that when a band of marauding Syrians were corralled in Samaria, the "king of Israel said unto Elisha, when he saw them, 'My father, shall I smite them? Shall I smite them?' And he answered, 'Thou shalt not smite them: wouldst thou smite those whom thou has taken captive with thy sword and with thy bow? Set bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink, and go to their master.' And he prepared great provision for them: and when they had eaten and drunk, he sent them away, and they went to their master. So the bands of Syria came no more into the land of Israel" (2 Kings 6:1-23). Again, Amos, in the eighth century, in his arraignment of the sins of the nations, pronounces God's severest judgments upon Damascus, Edom, Ammon, and Moab for their cruelty in war. The charge against Edom, for example, is that "he did pursue his brother with the sword, and did cast off all pity, and his anger did tear perpetually, and he kept his wrath forever." And the later prophets' visions of the Messianic age include as the brightest feature of that wished-for time the prediction that then "the nations shall not learn war any more."

Of such a spirit Mr. Zangwill's play The War God is an expression. It is a satire upon militarism, but a satire without exaggeration. The arguments employed to justify the maintenance of a huge army and navy are not a whit more absurd than the fallacies which have been put forth for a generation by those who would justify the maintenance of armaments. These so-called arguments are presented by "the Chancellor" who represents Bismarck, and by the king of Gothia, in whom we may easily recognize the Russian Czar. "Dominance," roars the Chancellor,—

"There rings the password of the universe.
Who knows it, he is free of every camp.
Equality, your level, endless cornfield,
However fat and fair and golden-stalked,
Would set us pining for the snow-topped peaks
And barren glaciers. Life is fight, thank God!

Take war away and men would sink to molluscs,
Limpets that wait the tide to wash them food.
The nations would grow foul with lazy feeling.
What heaven loves is breeds with life a-tingle,
Swift-gliding, flashing, darting death at rivals,
Men fearing God and with no other fear.
Thus were the Albans, now the turn is ours
To be the chosen people of Jehovah."

And the King endorses such sentiments with the sage observation,

"No doubt we must protect our growing commerce."

In opposition to such militarists stands Count Frithiof, in whom we may easily see the lineaments of Tolstoi. His motto is, "Resist not evil, but reform yourself." In answer to the Chancellor's declaration, "To safeguard peace, we must prepare for war," he replies,