Days of Disillusionment
By Samuel Strauss
SAMUEL STRAUSS (born in Des Moines, Ia., in 1870), was publisher of the Des Moines Leader from 1895 to 1904, and became publisher of the New York Globe in 1904. Since 1912 he has been associated with the management of the New York Times. Mr. Strauss has taken an active and effective interest in many worthy movements for Jewish betterment. He is a member of the Graduate Advisory Menorah Committee and of the Menorah College of Lecturers. His impressive and stimulating talks have given him marked popularity with the Menorah Societies.
WE are at present witnessing an instance of the truth that a great crisis is always a test for genuineness. Since August 1st a number of things seemingly vital have come tumbling to the ground as mere inflated delusions or comparative trifles formerly viewed out of all perspective. Men are beginning to realize that they have been deceiving themselves, and the immediate effect is disappointment.
What profit will be derived from it all is as yet merely a matter for speculation. Not yet have men been able to think of the conflict in other than negative terms, to see in it other than despair, crippled industry, a fall from civilization, all that belongs on the debit side of the ledger. But there is also a credit side: and to realize that the effects of war are positive as well as negative is by no means to condone war, but only to accept it as a fact.
History teaches us to expect that the positive result of this struggle will be in the nature of a physic—a dissolving away of delusions, and simultaneously a bringing into relief of some essential facts. This clearing of the ground will not wait until the war is over; it has already begun, though men are yet but half-conscious of it, and then only in the guise of profitless disillusionment. This state of mind is understandable enough. The spectacle of thousands going out by trainload to settle differences through slaughter has been a terrible shock. Individuals, having progressed beyond that stage, had assumed that collectively, too, men must share the same aversion to so illogical a method as murder for the solution of differences. This assumption has had root in a justifiable belief in the world's attainment to a higher plane of civilization. The quality of to-day's culture may not be so fine as that of Judæa, of Greece, or Rome, or of the Renaissance, but surely in no period of history has its extent been so great. Never had the entire world been nearer denationalization, never had the economic interdependence of nations been more complete. Jingoism has seemed obsolete, cosmopolitanism had seemed the ideal, as the horizon of an increasing number of individuals broadened out, and prejudice gave way before enlightenment. But now this assumption is suddenly discovered to be mere delusion, and at once much scorn is heaped upon "our alleged civilization." How much justification there is for disappointment over the failure of culture to influence action is difficult to determine. There is much confusion of thought on this point. To conclude that because nations go to war, individuals have therefore made practically no advance from the original state of barbarism is absurd. What should be clear is the danger of generalizations from the individual to groups of the individual—two psychologically different entities. It may be that even as communities we have progressed more than we believe, as some future reaction to this war may indicate, but what is brought to the surface now is the old fact that the progress of groups of men is at snail's pace, however men may forge ahead as individuals.
This refreshed realization is by no means of negative value. It is rather a positive benefit, and should be fixed in the minds of all men who are striving collectively for various ends. For political parties, socialists, suffragists, all and sundry reformers, this realization should be the starting point from which to readjust programs when the cataclysm is over.