CHAPTER XII

WAS RESISTANCE JUSTIFIABLE?

A story is told of Queen Victoria that in her youthful days, when

studying constitutional history, she once asked Lord Melbourne whether

under any circumstances citizens were justified in resisting legal

authority; to which the old courtier replied: "When asked that question

by a Sovereign of the House of Hanover I feel bound to answer in the

affirmative." If one can imagine a similar question being asked of an

Ulsterman by Mr. Asquith, Mr. Lloyd George, or Sir Edward Grey, in 1912,

the reply would surely have been that such a question asked by a

statesman claiming to be a guardian of Liberal principles and of the

Whig tradition could only be answered in the affirmative. This, at all

events, was the view of the late Duke of Devonshire, who more than any

other statesman of our time could claim to be a representative in his

own person of the Whig tradition handed down from 1688.[41] Passive

obedience has, indeed, been preached as a political dogma in the course

of English history, but never by apostles of Liberalism. Forcible

resistance to legally constituted authority, even when it involved

repudiation of existing allegiance, has often, both in our own and in

foreign countries, won the approval and sympathy of English Liberals. A

long line of illustrious names, from Cromwell and Lord Halifax in

England to Kossuth and Mazzini on the Continent, might be quoted in

support of such a proposition if anyone were likely to challenge it.

When, then, Liberals professed to be unutterably shocked by Ulster's

declared intention to resist Home Rule both actively and passively, they

could not have based their attitude on the principle that under no

circumstances could such resistance be morally justified. Indeed, in

the case in question, there were circumstances that would have made the

condemnation of Ulster by the English Liberal Party not a little

hypocritical if referred to any general ethical principle. For that

party had itself been for a generation in the closest political alliance

with Irishmen whose leader had boasted that they were as much rebels as

their fathers were in 1798, and whose power in Ireland had been built up

by long-sustained and systematic defiance of the law. Yet the same

politicians who had excused, if they had not applauded, the "Plan of

Campaign," and the organised boycotting and cattle-driving which had for

years characterised the agitation for Home Rule, were unspeakably

shocked when Ulster formed a disciplined Volunteer force which never

committed an outrage, and prepared to set up a Provisional Government

rather than be ruled by an assembly of cattle-drivers in Dublin.

Moreover, many of Mr. Asquith's supporters, and one at least of his most

distinguished colleagues in the Cabinet of 1912, had themselves

organised resistance to an Education Act which they disliked but had

been unable to defeat in Parliament.

Nevertheless, it must, of course, be freely admitted that the question

as to what conditions justify resistance to the legal authority in the

State--or rebellion, if the more blunt expression be preferred--is an

exceedingly difficult one to answer. It would sound cynical to say,

though Carlyle hardly shrinks from maintaining, that success, and

success alone, redeems rebellion from wickedness and folly. Yet it would

be difficult to explain on any other principle why posterity has

applauded the Parliamentarians of 1643 and the Whigs of 1688, while

condemning Monmouth and Charles Edward; or why Mr. Gladstone sympathised

with Jefferson Davis when he looked like winning and withdrew that

sympathy when he had lost. But if success is not the test, what is? Is

it the aim of the men who resist? The aim that appears honourable and

heroic to one onlooker appears quite the opposite to another, and so the

test resolves itself into a matter of personal partisanship.

That is probably as near as one can get to a solution of the question.

Those who happen to agree with the purpose for which a rebellion takes

place think the rebels in the right; those who disagree think them in

the wrong. As Mr. Winston Churchill succinctly puts it when commenting

on the strictures passed on his father for "inciting" Ulster to resist

Home Rule, "Constitutional authorities will measure their censures

according to their political opinions." He reminds us, moreover, that

when Lord Randolph was denounced as a "rebel in the skin of a Tory," the

latter "was able to cite the authority of Lord Althorp, Sir Robert Peel,

Mr. Morley, and the Prime Minister (Gladstone) himself, in support of

the contention that circumstances might justify morally, if not

technically, violent resistance and even civil war."[42]

To this distinguished catalogue of authorities an Ulster apologist might

have added the name of the Chief Secretary for Ireland in Mr. Asquith's

own Cabinet, who admitted in 1912 that "if the religion of the

Protestants were oppressed or their property despoiled they would be

right to fight[43];" which meant that Mr. Birrell did not condemn

fighting in itself, provided he were allowed to decide when the occasion

for it had arisen. Greater authorities than Mr. Birrell held that the

Ulster case for resistance was a good and valid one as it stood. No

English statesman of the last half-century has deservedly enjoyed a

higher reputation for political probity, combined with sound common

sense, than the eighth Duke of Devonshire. As long ago as 1893, when

this same issue had already been raised in circumstances much less

favourable to Ulster than after the passing of the Parliament Act in

1911, the Duke of Devonshire said:

"The people of Ulster believe, rightly or wrongly, that under a

Government responsible to an Imperial Parliament they possess at

present the fullest security which they can possess of their

personal freedom, their liberties, and their right to transact

their own business in their own way. You have no right to offer

them any inferior security to that; and if, after weighing the

character of the Government which it is sought to impose upon them,

they resolve that they are no longer bound to obey a law which does

not give them equal and just protection with their fellow subjects,

who can say--how at all events can the descendants of those who

resisted King James II say, that they have not a right, if they

think fit, to resist, if they think they have the power, the

imposition of a Government put upon them by force?"[44]

All the same, there never was a community on the face of the earth to

whom "rebellion" in any real sense of the word was more hateful than to

the people of Ulster. They traditionally were the champions of "law and

order" in Ireland; they prided themselves above all things on their

"loyalty" to their King and to the British flag. And they never

entertained the idea that the movement which they started at Craigavon

in 1911, and to which they solemnly pledged themselves by their Covenant

in the following year, was in the slightest degree a departure from

their cherished "loyalty"--on the contrary, it was an emphatic assertion

of it. They held firmly, as Mr. Bonar Law and the whole Unionist party

in Great Britain held also, that Mr. Asquith and his Government were

forcing Home Rule upon them by unconstitutional methods. They did not

believe that loyalty in the best sense--loyalty to the Sovereign, to the

Empire, to the majesty of the law--required of them passive obedience to

an Act of Parliament placed by such means on the Statute-book, which

they were convinced, moreover, was wholly repugnant to the great

majority of the British people.

This aspect of the matter was admirably and soberly presented by _The

Times_ in one of the many weighty articles in which that great journal

gave undeviating support to the Ulster cause.

"A free community cannot justly, or even constitutionally, be

deprived of its privileges or its position in the realm by any

measure that is not stamped with the considered and unquestionable

approval of the great body of electors of the United Kingdom. Any

attempt so to deprive them is a fraud upon their fundamental

rights, which they are justified in resisting, as an act of

violence, by any means in their power. This is elementary doctrine,

borne out by the whole course of English history."[45]

That the position was paradoxical calls for no denial; but the pith of

the paradox lay in the fact that a movement denounced as "rebellious" by

its political opponents was warmly supported not only by large masses,

probably by the majority, of the people of this country, but by numbers

of individuals of the highest character, occupying stations of great

responsibility. Whatever may be thought of men engaged in actual

political conflict, whom some people appear to think capable of any

wickedness, no one can seriously suggest that men like Lord Macnaghten,

like the late and present Primates of Ireland, like the late Provost of

Trinity, like many other sober thinkers who supported Ulster, were men

who would lightly lend themselves to "rebellion," or any other wild and

irresponsible adventure. As _The Times_ very truly observed in a leading

article in 1912:

"We remember no precedent in our domestic history since the

Revolution of 1688 for a movement among citizens, law-abiding by

temperament and habit, which resembles the present movement of the

Ulster Protestants. It is no rabble who have undertaken it. It is

the work of orderly, prosperous, and deeply religious men."[46]

Nor did the paradox end there. If the Ulster Movement was "rebellious,"

its purpose was as paradoxical as its circumstances. It had in it no

subversive element. In this respect it stands (so far as the writer's

knowledge goes) without precedent, a solitary instance in the history of

mankind. The world has witnessed rebellions without number, designed to

bring about many different results--to emancipate a people from

oppression, to upset an obnoxious form of Government, to expel or to

restore a rival dynasty, to transfer allegiance from one Sovereign or

one State to another. But has there ever been a "rebellion" the object

of which was to maintain the _status quo_? Yet that was the sole purpose

of the Ulstermen in all they did from 1911 to 1914. That fact, which

distinguished their movement from every rebellion or revolution in

history, placed them on a far more solid ground of reasonable

justification than the excuse offered by Mr. Churchill for their

bellicose attitude in his father's day. Although he is no doubt right in

saying that "When men are sufficiently in earnest they will back their

words with more than votes," it is a plea that would cover alike the

conduct of Halifax and the other Whigs who resisted the legal authority

of James II, of the Jacobites who fought for his grandson, and of the

contrivers of many another bloody or bloodless Revolution. But there was

nothing revolutionary in the Ulster Movement. It was resistance to the

transfer of a people's allegiance without their consent; to their

forcible expulsion from a Constitution with which they were content and

their forcible inclusion in a Constitution which they detested. This was

the very antithesis of Revolution. English Radical writers and

politicians might argue that no "transfer of allegiance" was

contemplated; but Ulstermen thought they knew better, and the later

development of the Irish question proved how right they were. Even had

they been proved wrong instead of right in their conviction that the

true aim of Irish Nationalism (a term in which Sinn Fein is included)

was essentially separatist, they knew better than Englishmen how little

reality there was in the theory that under the proposed Home Rule their

allegiance would be unaffected and their political _status_ suffer no

degradation. They claimed to occupy a position similar to that of the

North in the American Civil War--with this difference, which, so far as

it went, told in their favour, that whereas Lincoln took up arms to

resist secession, they were prepared to do so to resist expulsion, the

purpose in both cases, however, being to preserve union. The practical

view of the question, as it would appear in the eyes of ordinary men,

was well expressed by Lord Curzon in the House of Lords, when he said:

"The people of this country will be very loth to condemn those

whose only disloyalty it will be to have been excessive in their

loyalty to the King. Do not suppose that the people of this country

will call those 'rebels' whose only form of rebellion is to insist

on remaining under the Imperial Parliament."[47]

Of course, men like Sir Edward Carson, Lord Londonderry, Mr. Thomas

Sinclair, and other Ulster leaders were too far-seeing not to realise

that the course they were taking would expose them to the accusation of

having set a bad example which others without the same grounds of

justification might follow in very different circumstances. But this was

a risk they had to shoulder, as have all who are not prepared to

subscribe to the dogma of Passive Obedience without limit. They accepted

it as the less of two evils. But there was something humorous in the

pretence put forward in 1916 and afterwards that the violence to which

the adherents of Sinn Fein had recourse was merely copying Ulster. As if

Irish Nationalism in its extreme form required precedent for

insurrection! Even the leader of "Constitutional Nationalism" himself

had traced his political pedigree to convicted rebels like Tone and

Emmet, and since the date of those heroes there had been at least two

armed risings in Ireland against the British Crown and Government. If

the taunt flung at Ulstermen had been that they had at last thrown

overboard law and order and had stolen the Nationalist policy of active

resistance, there would at least have been superficial plausibility in

it. But when it was suggested or implied that the Ulster example was

actually responsible in any degree whatever for violent outbreaks in the

other provinces, a supercilious smile was the only possible retort from

the lips of representatives of Ulster.

But what caused them some perplexity was the disposition manifested in

certain quarters in England to look upon the two parties in Ireland in

regard to "rebellion" as "six of one and half a dozen of the other." It

has always, unhappily, been characteristic of a certain type of

Englishman to see no difference between the friends and the enemies of

his country, and, if he has a preference at all, to give it to the

latter. Apart from all other circumstances which in the eyes of

Ulstermen justified them up to the hilt in the policy they pursued,

apart from everything that distinguished them historically and morally

from Irish "rebels," there was the patent and all-important fact that

the motive of their opponents was hostility to England, whereas their

own motive was friendliness and loyalty to England. In that respect they

never wavered. If the course of events had ever led to the employment of

British troops to crush the resistance of Ulster to Home Rule, the

extraordinary spectacle would have been presented to the wondering world

of the King's soldiers shooting down men marching under the British flag

and singing "God save the King."

It was no doubt because this was very generally understood in England

that the sympathies of large masses of law-loving people were never for

a moment alienated from the men of Ulster by all the striving of their

enemies to brand them as rebels. Constitutional authorities may, as Mr.

Churchill says, "measure their censures according to their political

opinions," but the generality of men, who are not constitutional

authorities, whose political opinions, if they have any, are

fluctuating, and who care little for "juridical niceties," will measure

their censures according to their instinctive sympathies. And the sound

instinct of Englishmen forbade them to blame men who, if rebels in law,

were their firm friends in fact, for taking exceptional and even illegal

measures, when all others failed, to preserve the full unity which they

regarded as the fruit of that friendship.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] See _Life of the Eighth Duke of Devonshire,_ by Bernard Holland,

ii, pp. 249-51.

[42] _Life of Lord Randolph Churchill_, vol. ii, p. 65.

[43] _Annual Register_, 1912, p. 82.

[44] Bernard Holland's _Life of the Eighth Duke of Devonshire_, ii, 250.

[45] _The Times_, July 14th, 1913.

[46] Ibid., August 22nd, 1912.

[47] _Parliamentary Debates_ (House of Lords), July 15th, 1913.

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