It is early to hold inquest upon European civilization. But to attempt
to forecast the findings of the historian-crowners of the next period
of peace, is neither presumptuous nor premature. Experience has taught
us much of the evolution of the written record of a war. After our
Civil War we had two distinct historical traditions, Northern and
Southern. Nearest the event, personalities, deified and damned, loomed
portentously. “If Lincoln’s character had been different--if Jeff
Davis had been more forceful”--why, perhaps there might have been no
war, or its issue might have been other than it was. In a later stage,
Civil War history, though still sectional, accepted the obligation
to set forth and make plausible the motives animating either side.
Finally, sectionalism is fading from Civil War history, at least in
so far as the work of the trained writer is concerned. Whether we are
Northerners or Southerners, we see in the great war the natural outcome
of the irreconcilable conflict between two economic and social systems,
each seeking expansion to the detriment of the other. A particular
personality may have worked to bring some of the contending forces to a
focus; a particular political movement may have hastened, another may
have retarded, the final appeal to arms. Given, however, the underlying
social economic situation, given, too the existing limitations upon the
political intelligence, North and South, and the appeal to arms was
inevitable. Neither party, to be sure, can be absolved from the charge
of wrong-doing, or even of crime. But it is not now so important to
strike a balance of guilt as it is to determine the conditions that
made wrong seem right in the eyes of otherwise moral men.
When the present war is over there will be a flood of nationalistic
histories. The literary representatives of each party will endeavor to
roll the whole blame upon the enemy. Vast significance will be attached
to personalities; emperors and kings, statesmen, prelates, journalists,
will stand forth in light supernal or infernal, according to the point
of view. Were the Servian authorities in league with the assassins of
the Archduke? Did the German emperor dictate the terms of the Austrian
ultimatum? Was the Czar preparing war while pretending peace? Was Sir
Edward Grey watching for an opportunity to crush the German fleet? In
a later stage impersonal political forces will assert their claim to
the foreground of history: the expansive tendencies of Russia; the
fatal pride of armed Germany; the pretensions of England to the empire
of the seas. Ancient antagonisms of race and nationality, of culture
and religion, will aid in explaining what would otherwise remain
inexplicable.
No one will dispute the fact that certain individuals in positions of
power worked actively to bring on the present crisis, nor that acts
were committed that deserve the execration of mankind. It will not be
denied that ancient political and cultural antagonisms essentially
conditioned the present war; but for such antagonisms the peace would
have remained unbroken. Still, these forces are, in a sense, static,
and hence not adequate to explain change. The Russian is not more
aggressive, the German is not more arrogant, nor the Englishman more
intent upon naval dominance, than they were twenty years ago. Pride of
race and intolerance of religion have been with us always, and there
is no evidence of their recent intensification. What chiefly needs
explanation is that for a generation the consciousness of Europe has
been filling up with fighting concepts. The fact has been noted by all
serious students of European international relations. It is forcibly
demonstrated by the enthusiasm with which the several nations, each
with a reason of its own, has entered the present conflict. Desperate
efforts have been making, for years, to prepare for the struggle that
was regarded as inevitable.
Accordingly we can impute to the acts of particular persons little more
than the choice of time and occasion for the outbreak of hostilities.
The time may have been inauspicious; the occasion may have been one
that will not look well in history. For the underlying forces working
cumulatively toward an issue, we must, however, look elsewhere than to
personal volition.
The greed of the armament industries and the incessant playing upon
popular opinion by their subsidized organs have often been assigned
to a chief rôle in the drama of international discord. Competitive
military preparations, drawing to themselves an increasing share of the
intellectual energies of a nation, have long been regarded as a menace
to the peace of the world. Every organ seeks to exercise a function.
The Crown Prince of Germany, in his panegyric of militarism, expresses
poignant regret that all the splendid military forces of the Empire
should be expended futilely, in peaceful show. Professional warriors
want war, and will work to bring it about.
The future historian will doubtless give weight to the above mentioned
forces, as well as to many others that can not here be touched
upon. But he will assign vastly more importance than we of today,
to the national antipathies engendered by the scramble for colonial
possessions, and to the motives giving rise to it. It may be worth our
while, even now, to fix our attention upon this aspect of the question.
Not only for the light that may be thrown upon the fundamental causes
of the present conflict, but also for the grounds we may discern for
conjectures as to the international relations of the future.