OF THE PRINCIPLES OF WAR AND DISSENTION.
"There are some circumstances in the lot of mankind," says Socrates, "that
show them to be destined to friendship and amity: Those are, their mutual
need of each other; their mutual compassion; their sense of mutual benefit;
and the pleasures arising in company. There are other circumstances which
prompt them to war and dissention; the admiration and the desire which they
entertain for the same subjects; their opposite pretensions; and the
provocations which they mutually offer in the course of their
competitions."
When we endeavour to apply the maxims of natural justice to the solution of
difficult questions, we find that some cases may be supposed, and actually
happen, where oppositions take place, and are lawful, prior to any
provocation, or act of injustice; that where the safety and preservation of
numbers are mutually inconsistent, one party may employ his right of
defence, before the other has begun an attack. And when we join with such
examples, the instances of mistake, and misunderstanding, to which mankind
are exposed, we may be satisfied that war does not always proceed from an
intention to injure; and that even the best qualities of men, their
candour, as well as their resolution, may operate in the midst of their
quarrels.
There is still more to be observed on this subject. Mankind not only find
in their condition the sources of variance and dissention; they appear to
have in their minds the seeds of animosity, and to embrace the occasions of
mutual opposition, with alacrity and pleasure. In the most pacific
situation, there are few who have not their enemies, as well as their
friends; and who are not pleased with opposing the proceedings of one, as
much as with favouring the designs of another. Small and simple tribes, who
in their domestic society have the firmest union, are in their state of
opposition as separate nations, frequently animated with the most
implacable hatred. Among the citizens of Rome, in the early ages of that
republic, the name of a foreigner, and that of an enemy, were the same.
Among the Greeks, the name of Barbarian, under which that people
comprehended every nation that was of a race, and spoke a language,
different from their own, became a term of indiscriminate contempt and
aversion. Even where no particular claim to superiority is formed, the
repugnance to union, the frequent wars, or rather the perpetual hostilities
which take place among rude nations and separate clans, discover how much
our species is disposed to opposition, as well as to concert.
Late discoveries have brought to our knowledge almost every situation in
which mankind are placed. We have found them spread over large and
extensive continents, where communications are open, and where national
confederacy might be easily formed. We have found them in narrower
districts, circumscribed by mountains, great rivers, and arms of the sea.
They have been found in small islands, where the inhabitants might be
easily assembled, and derive an advantage from their union. But in all
those situations, alike, they were broke into cantons, and affected a
distinction of name and community. The titles of _fellow citizen_ and
_countrymen_, unopposed to those of _alien_ and _foreigner_, to which
they refer, would fall into disuse, and lose their meaning. We love
individuals on account of personal qualities; but we love our country,
as it is a party in the divisions of mankind; and our zeal for its
interest, is a predilection in behalf of the side we maintain.
In the promiscuous concourse of men, it is sufficient that we have an
opportunity of selecting our company. We turn away from those who do not
engage us, and we fix our resort where the society is more to our mind. We
are fond of distinctions; we place ourselves in opposition, and quarrel
under the denominations of faction and party, without any material subject
of controversy. Aversion, like affection, is fostered by a continued
direction to its particular object. Separation and estrangement, as well as
opposition, widen a breach which did not owe its beginnings to any offence.
And it would seem, that till we have reduced mankind to the state of a
family, or found some external consideration to maintain their connection
in greater numbers, they will be for ever separated into bands, and form a
plurality of nations.
The sense of a common danger, and the assaults of an enemy, have been
frequently useful to nations, by uniting their members more firmly
together, and by preventing the secessions and actual separations in which
their civil discord might otherwise terminate. And this motive to union
which is offered from abroad, may be necessary, not only in the case of
large and extensive nations, where coalitions are weakened by distance, and
the distinction of provincial names; but even in the narrow society of the
smallest states. Rome itself was founded by a small party which took its
flight from Alba; her citizens were often in danger of separating; and if
the villages and cantons of the Volsci had been further removed from the
scene of their dissentions, the Mons Sacer might have received a new colony
before the mother country was ripe for such a discharge. She continued long
to feel the quarrels of her nobles and her people; and kept open the gates
of Janus, to remind those parties of the duties they owed to their country.
Societies, as well as individuals, being charged with the care of their own
preservation, and having separate interests, which give rise to jealousies
and competitions, we cannot be surprised to find hostilities arise from
this source. But were there no angry passions of a different sort, the
animosities which attend an opposition of interest, should bear a
proportion to the supposed value of the subject. "The Hottentot nations,"
says Kolben, "trespass on each other by thefts of cattle and of women; but
such injuries are seldom committed, except with a view to exasperate their
neighbours, and bring them to a war." Such depredations then, are not the
foundation of a war, but the effects of a hostile intention already
conceived. The nations of North America, who have no herds to preserve,
nor settlements to defend, are yet engaged in almost perpetual wars, for
which they can assign no reason, but the point of honour, and a desire
to continue the struggle their fathers maintained. They do not regard
the spoils of an enemy; and the warrior who has seized any booty, easily
parts with it to the first person who comes in his way. [Footnote: See
Charlevoix's History of Canada.]
But we need not cross the Atlantic to find proofs of animosity, and to
observe, in the collision of separate societies, the influence of angry
passions, that do not arise from an opposition of interest. Human nature
has no part of its character of which more flagrant examples are given on
this side of the globe. What is it that stirs in the breasts of ordinary
men when the enemies of their country are named? Whence are the prejudices
that subsist between different provinces, cantons, and villages, of the
same empire and territory? What is it that excites one half of the nations
of Europe against the other? The statesman may explain his conduct on
motives of national jealousy and caution, but the people have dislikes and
antipathies, for which they cannot account. Their mutual reproaches of
perfidy and injustice, like the Hottentot depredations, are but symptoms of
an animosity, and the language of a hostile disposition, already conceived.
The charge of cowardice and pusillanimity, qualities which the interested
and cautious enemy should, of all others, like best to find in his rival,
is urged with aversion, and made the ground of dislike. Hear the peasants
on different sides of the Alps, and the Pyrenees, the Rhine, or the British
channel, give vent to their prejudices and national passions; it is among
them that we find the materials of war and dissention laid without the
direction of government, and sparks ready to kindle into a flame, which the
statesman is frequently disposed to extinguish. The fire will not always
catch where his reasons of state would direct, nor stop where the
concurrence of interest has produced an alliance. "My father," said a
Spanish peasant, "would rise from his grave, if he could foresee a war with
France." What interest had he, or the bones of his father, in the quarrels
of princes?
These observations seem to arraign our species, and to give an unfavourable
picture of mankind; and yet the particulars we have mentioned are
consistent with the most amiable qualities of our nature, and often furnish
a scene for the exercise of our greatest abilities. They are sentiments of
generosity and self denial that animate the warrior in defence of his
country; and they are dispositions most favourable to mankind, that become
the principles of apparent hostility to men. Every animal is made to
delight in the exercise of his natural talents and forces. The lion and the
tyger sport with the paw; the horse delights to commit his mane to the
wind, and forgets his pasture to try his speed in the field; the bull even
before his brow is armed, and the lamb while yet an emblem of innocence,
have a disposition to strike with the forehead, and anticipate, in play,
the conflicts they are doomed to sustain. Man too is disposed to
opposition, and to employ the forces of his nature against an equal
antagonist; he loves to bring his reason, his eloquence, his courage, even
his bodily strength to the proof. His sports are frequently an image of
war; sweat and blood are freely expended in play; and fractures or death
are often made to terminate the pastime of idleness and festivity. He was
not made to live for ever, and even his love of amusement has opened a way
to the grave.
Without the rivalship of nations, and the practice of war, civil society
itself could scarcely have found an object, or a form. Mankind might have
traded without any formal convention, but they cannot be safe without a
national concert. The necessity of a public defence, has given rise to many
departments of state, and the intellectual talents of men have found their
busiest scene in wielding their national forces. To overawe, or intimidate,
or, when we cannot persuade with reason, to resist with fortitude, are the
occupations which give its most animating exercise, and its greatest
triumphs, to a vigorous mind; and he who has never struggled with his
fellow creatures, is a stranger to half the sentiments of mankind.
The quarrels of individuals, indeed, are frequently the operations of
unhappy and detestable passions, malice, hatred, and rage. If such passions
alone possess the breast, the scene of dissention becomes an object of
horror; but a common opposition maintained by numbers, is always allayed by
passions of another sort. Sentiments of affection and friendship mix with
animosity; the active and strenuous become the guardians of their society;
and violence itself is, in their case, an exertion of generosity, as well
as of courage. We applaud, as proceeding from a national or party spirit,
what we could not endure as the effect of a private dislike; and, amidst
the competitions of rival states, think we have found, for the patriot and
the warrior, in the practice of violence and stratagem, the most
illustrious career of human virtue. Even personal opposition here does not
divide our judgment on the merits of men. The rival names of Agesilaus and
Epaminondas, of Scipio and Hannibal, are repeated with equal praise; and
war itself, which in one view appears so fatal, in another is the exercise
of a liberal spirit; and in the very effects which we regret, is but one
distemper more, by which the Author of nature has appointed our exit from
human life.
These reflections may open our view into the state of mankind; but they
tend to reconcile us to the conduct of Providence, rather than to make us
change our own; where, from a regard to the welfare of our fellow
creatures, we endeavour to pacify their animosities, and unite them by the
ties of affection. In the pursuit of this amiable intention, we may hope,
in some instances, to disarm the angry passions of jealousy and envy; we
may hope to instil into the breasts of private men sentiments of candour
towards their fellow creatures, and a disposition to humanity and justice.
But it is vain to expect that we can give to the multitude of a people a
sense of union among themselves, without admitting hostility to those who
oppose them. Could we at once, in the case of any nation, extinguish the
emulation which is excited from abroad, we should probably break or weaken
the bands of society at home, and close the busiest scenes of national
occupations and virtues.