was no more than a geographical expression. Great Britain was the one
great Power. She alone had colonies and India. She as good as
monopolised the world's shipping and the world's trade. As compared with
other countries she was immeasurably rich and prosperous. Her population
during the long peace, interrupted only by the Crimean War and the
Indian Mutiny, had multiplied beyond men's wildest dreams. Her
manufacturers were amassing fortunes, her industry had no rival. The
Victorian age was thought of as the beginning of a wonderful new era, in
which, among the nations, England was first and the rest nowhere. The
temporary effort of the French to create a modern navy disturbed the
sense of security which existed and gave rise to the Volunteer movement,
which was felt to be a marvellous display of patriotism.
There were attempts to show that British self-complacency was not
altogether justified. The warnings of those who looked below the surface
were read and admired. Few writers were more popular than Carlyle,
Ruskin, and Matthew Arnold. But all three held aloof from the current of
public life which flowed in the traditional party channels. There was no
effort to revive the conception of the nation as the organised state to
which every citizen is bound, the source and centre of all men's duties.
Accordingly every man devoted himself to his own affairs, of which the
first was to make money and the second to enjoy life; those who were
rich enough finding their amusement in Parliament, which was regarded as
the most interesting club in London, and in its debates, of which the
charm, for those who take part in them, lies in the fact that for
success not knowledge of a subject, but fluency, readiness, and wit are
required.
The great events taking place in the world, the wars in Bohemia, in
France, and in Turkey, added a certain, interest to English life because
they furnished to the newspapers matter more exciting than any novelist
could produce, and in this way gratified the taste for sensation which
had been acquired both by rich and poor. That these events meant
anything in particular to the British nation was not likely to be
realised while that nation was, in fact, non-existent, and had resolved
itself into forty million individuals, each of them living for his own
ends, slightly enlarged to include his family, his literary or
scientific society, perhaps his cricket club, and on Sunday morning his
church or chapel. There was also a widespread interest in "politics," by
which was meant the particular fads cherished by one's own caucus to the
exclusion of the nation's affairs, it being more or less understood that
the army, the navy, and foreign policy were not to be made political
questions.
While forty million English people have thus been spending their lives
self-centred, content to make their living, to enjoy life, and to behave
kindly to their fellows, there has grown up in Germany a nation, a
people of sixty millions, who believe that they belong together, that
their country has the first call on them, whose children go to school
because the Government that represents the nation bids them, who go for
two years to the army or the navy to learn war, because they know that
if the nation has to fight it can do so only by their fighting for it.
Their Government thinks it is its business to be always improving the
organisation of its sixty millions for security, for knowledge, for
instruction, for agriculture, for industry, for navigation. Thus after
forty years of common effort for a common good Germany finds itself the
first nation in Europe, more than holding its own in every department of
life, and eagerly surveying the world in search of opportunities.
The Englishman, while he has been living his own life and, as I think,
improving in many respects, has at the same time been admiring the
British Empire, and discovering with pride that a number of new nations
have grown up in distant places, formed of people whose fathers or
grandfathers emigrated from Great Britain. He remembers from his school
lessons or reads in the newspapers of the greatness of England in past
centuries, and naturally feels that with such a past and with so great
an Empire existing to-day, his country should be a very great Power. But
as he discovers what the actual performance of Germany is, and becomes
acquainted with the results of her efforts in science, education, trade,
and industry, and the way in which the influence of the German
Government predominates in the affairs of Europe, he is puzzled and
indignant, and feels that in some way Great Britain has been surpassed
and outdone.
The state of the world which he thought existed, in which England was
the first nation and the rest nowhere, has completely changed while he
has been attending to his private business, his "politics," and his
cricket, and he finds the true state of the world to be that, while in
industry England has hard work to hold her own against her chief rival,
she has already been passed in education and in science, that her army,
good as it is, is so small as scarcely to count, and that even her navy
cannot keep its place without a great and unexpected effort.
Yet fifty years ago England had on her side all the advantages but one.
She was forgetting nationhood while Germany was reviving it. The British
people, instead of organising themselves as one body, the nation, have
organised themselves into two bodies, the two "political" parties.
England's one chance lies in recovering the unity that has been lost,
which she must do by restoring the nation to its due place in men's
hearts and lives. To find out how that is to be done we must once more
look at Europe and at England's relations to Europe.
IX.
NEW CONDITIONS
It has been seen how, as a result of the struggle with Napoleon,
England, from 1805 onwards, was the only sea power remaining in Europe,
and indeed, with the exception of the United States, the only sea power
in the world. One of the results was that she had for many years the
monopoly of the whole ocean, not merely for the purposes of war, but
also for the purposes of trade. The British mercantile marine continued
through the greater part of the nineteenth century to increase its
preponderance over all others, and this remarkable, and probably quite
exceptional, growth was greatly favoured by the Civil War in America,
during which the mercantile marine of the United States received from
the action of the Confederate cruisers a damage from which it has never
recovered.
In the years immediately following 1805, Great Britain in self-defence,
or as a means of continuing the war against France, in regard to which
her resources for operations on land were limited, had recourse to the
operations of blockade, by which the sea was closed, as far as possible,
to enemy merchantmen while Great Britain prohibited neutral ships from
carrying enemy goods. Napoleon replied by the attempt to exclude British
goods from the Continent altogether, and indeed the pressure produced by
Great Britain's blockades compelled Napoleon further to extend his
domination on the Continent. Thus the other continental States found
themselves between the devil and the deep sea. They had to submit to the
domination of Napoleon on land and to the complete ascendency of Great
Britain on the waters which surrounded their coasts. The British claims
to supremacy at sea were unanimously resented by all the continental
States, which all suffered from them, but in all cases the national
resentment against French invasion or French occupation of territory was
greater than the resentment against the invisible pressure exercised by
the British navy. In the wars of liberation, though Great Britain was
the welcome ally of all the States that were fighting against France,
the pressure of British sea power was none the less disagreeable and, in
the years of peace which followed, the British monopoly of sea power, of
sea-carriage, of manufacturing industry, and of international trade were
equally disliked by almost all the nations of Europe. Protective duties
were regarded as the means of fostering national industries and of
sheltering them against the overpowering competition of British
manufactures. The British claim to the dominion of the sea was regarded
as unfounded in right, and was in principle as strongly denounced as had
been the territorial domination of France. The mistress of the seas was
regarded as a tyrant, whom it would be desirable, if it were possible,
to depose, and there were many who thought that as the result of a
conflict in which the final success had been gained by the co-operation
of a number of States acting together, the gains of Great Britain which,
as time went on, were seen to be growing into a world-wide empire, had
been out of proportion to the services she had rendered to the common
cause.
Meantime during the century which has elapsed since the last great war,
there has been a complete change in the conditions of intercourse
between nations at sea and of maritime warfare. It has come about
gradually, almost imperceptibly, so that it could hardly be appreciated
before the close of the nineteenth century. But it is vital to Great
Britain that her people should understand the nature of the
transformation.
The first thing to be observed is that the British monopoly of shipping
and of oversea trade has disappeared. Great Britain still has by far the
largest mercantile marine and by far the greatest share in the world's
sea traffic, but she no longer stands alone. Germany, the United States,
France, Norway, Italy, and Japan all have great fleets of merchant
ships and do an enormous, some of them a rapidly increasing, seaborne
trade. A large number of the principal States import the raw material of
manufacture and carry on import and export on a large scale. The railway
system connects all the great manufacturing centres, even those which
lie far inland, with the great ports to and from which the lines of
steamers ply. The industrial life of every nation is more than ever
dependent upon its communications with and by the sea, and every nation
has become more sensitive than ever to any disturbance of its maritime
trade. The preponderance of the British navy is therefore a subject of
anxiety in every State which regards as possible a conflict of its own
interests with those of Great Britain. This is one of the reasons why
continental States have during the last quarter of a century been
disposed to increase their fleets and their naval expenditure.
In the Declaration of Paris, renewed and extended by the Declaration of
London, the maritime States have agreed that in any future war enemy
goods in a neutral ship are to be safe from capture unless the ship is
running a blockade, which must be effective. Whether Great Britain was
well or ill advised in accepting this rule is a question which it is now
useless to discuss, for the decision cannot be recalled, and the rule
must be regarded as established beyond controversy. Its effect is
greatly to diminish the pressure which a victorious navy can bring to
bear upon a hostile State. It deprives Great Britain of one of the most
potent weapons which she employed in the last great war. To-day it would
be impracticable even for a victorious navy to cut off a continental
State from seaborne traffic. The ports of that State might be blockaded
and its merchant ships would be liable to capture, but the victorious
navy could not interfere with the traffic carried by neutral ships to
neutral ports. Accordingly, Great Britain could not now, even in the
event of naval victory being hers, exercise upon an enemy the pressure
which she formerly exercised through the medium of the neutral States.
Any continental State, even if its coasts were effectively blockaded,
could still, with increased difficulty, obtain supplies both of raw
material and of food by the land routes through the territory of its
neutral neighbours. But Great Britain herself, as an insular State,
would not, in case of naval defeat, have this advantage. A decisive
defeat of the British navy might be followed by an attempt on the part
of the enemy to blockade the coasts of Great Britain, though that would
no doubt be difficult, for a very large force would be required to
maintain an effective blockade of the whole coast-line.
It is conceivable that an enemy might attempt in spite of the
Declaration of London to treat as contraband food destined for the
civil population and this course ought to be anticipated, but in the
military weakness of Great Britain an enemy whose navy had gained the
upper hand would almost certainly prefer to undertake the speedier
process of bringing the war to an end by landing an army in Great
Britain. A landing on a coast so extensive as that of this island can
with difficulty be prevented by forces on land, because troops cannot be
moved as quickly as ships.
The war in the Far East has shown how strong such an army might be, and
how great a military effort would be needed to crush it. The proper way
to render an island secure, is by a navy strong enough to obtain in war
the control of the surrounding sea, and a navy unable to perform that
function cannot be regarded as a guarantee of security.
The immediate effects of naval victory can hardly ever again be so
far-reaching as they were a century ago in the epoch of masts and sails.
At that time there were no foreign navies, except in European waters,
and in the Atlantic waters of the United States. When, therefore, the
British navy had crushed its European adversaries, its ships could act
without serious opposition upon any sea and any coast in the world.
To-day, the radius of action of a victorious fleet is restricted by the
necessity of a supply of coal, and therefore by the secure possession
of coaling-stations at suitable intervals along any route by which the
fleet proposes to move, or by the goodwill of neutrals in permitting it
to coal at their depots. To-day, moreover, there are navies established
even in distant seas. In the Pacific, for example, are the fleets of
Japan and of the United States, and these, in their home waters, will
probably be too strong to be opposed by European navies acting at a vast
distance from their bases.
It seems likely, therefore, that neither Great Britain nor any other
State will in future enjoy that monopoly of sea power which was granted
to Great Britain by the circumstances of her victories in the last great
war. What I have called the great prize has in fact ceased to exist, and
even if an adversary were to challenge the British navy, the reward of
his success would not be a naval supremacy of anything like the kind or
extent which peculiar conditions made it possible for Great Britain to
enjoy during the nineteenth century. It would be a supremacy limited and
reduced by the existence of the new navies that have sprung up.
From these considerations a very important conclusion must be drawn. In
the first place, enough victory at sea is in case of war as
indispensable to Great Britain as ever, for it remains the fundamental
condition of her security, yet its results can hardly in future be as
great as they were in the past, and in particular it may perhaps not
again enable her to exert upon continental States the same effective
pressure which it formerly rendered possible.
In order, therefore, to bring pressure upon a continental adversary,
Great Britain is more than ever in need of the co-operation of a
continental ally. A navy alone cannot produce the effect which it once
did upon the course of a land war, and its success will not suffice to
give confidence to the ally. Nothing but an army able to take its part
in a continental struggle will, in modern conditions, suffice to make
Great Britain the effective ally of a continental State, and in the
absence of such an army Great Britain will continue to be, as she is
to-day, without continental allies.
A second conclusion is that our people, while straining every nerve in
peace to ensure to their navy the best chances of victory in war, must
carefully avoid the conception of a dominion of the sea, although, in
fact, such a dominion actually existed during a great part of the
nineteenth century. The new conditions which have grown up during the
past thirty years have made this ideal as much a thing of the past as
the mediæval conception of a Roman Empire in Europe to whose titular
head all kings were subordinate.
X.
DYNAMICS--THE QUESTION OF MIGHT
If there is a chance of a conflict in which Great Britain is to be
engaged, her people must take thought in time how they may have on their
side both right and might. It is hard to see how otherwise they can
expect the contest to be decided in their favour.
As I have said before, in the quarrel you must be in the right and in
the fight you must win. The quarrel is the domain of policy, the fight
that of strategy or dynamics. Policy and strategy are in reality
inextricably interwoven one with another, for right and might resemble,
more than is commonly supposed, two aspects of the same thing. But it is
convenient in the attempt to understand any complicated subject to
examine its aspects separately.
I propose, therefore, in considering the present situation of Great
Britain and her relations to the rest of the world, to treat first of
the question of force, to assume that a quarrel may arise, and to
ascertain what are the conditions in which Great Britain can expect to
win, and then to enter into the question of right, in order to find out
what light can be thrown upon the necessary aims and methods of British
policy by the conclusions which will have been reached as to the use of
force.
The nationalisation of States, which is the fundamental fact of modern
history, affects both policy and strategy. If the State is a nation, the
population associated as one body, then the force which it can use in
case of conflict represents the sum of the energies of the whole
population, and this force cannot and will not be used except as the
expression of the will of the whole population. The policy of such a
State means its collective will, the consciousness of its whole
population of a purpose, mission, or duty which it must fulfil, with
which it is identified, and which, therefore, it cannot abandon. Only in
case this national purpose meets with resistance will a people organised
as a State enter into a quarrel, and if such a quarrel has to be fought
out the nation's resources will be expended upon it without limitation.
The chief fact in regard to the present condition of Europe appears to
be the very great excess in the military strength of Germany over that
of any other Power. It is due in part to the large population of the
German Empire, and in part to the splendid national organisation which
has been given to it. It cannot be asserted either that Germany was not
entitled to become united, or that she was not entitled to organise
herself as efficiently as possible both for peace and for war. But the
result is that Germany has a preponderance as great if not greater than
that of Spain in the time of Philip II., or of France either under Louis
XIV. or under Napoleon. Every nation, no doubt, has a right to make
itself as strong as it can, and to exercise as much influence as it can
on the affairs of the world. To do these things is the mission and
business of a nation. But the question arises, what are the limits to
the power of a single nation? The answer appears to be that the only
limits are those set by the power of other nations. This is the theory
of the balance of power of which the object is to preserve to Europe its
character of a community of independent States rather than that of a
single empire in which one State predominates.
Without attributing to Germany any wrong purpose or any design of
injustice it must be evident that her very great strength must give her
in case of dispute, always possible between independent States, a
corresponding advantage against any other Power whose views or whose
intentions should not coincide with hers. It is the obvious possibility
of such dispute that makes it incumbent upon Great Britain to prepare
herself in case of disagreement to enter into a discussion with Germany
upon equal terms.
Only upon such preparation can Great Britain base the hope either of
averting a quarrel with Germany, or in case a quarrel should arise and
cannot be made up by mutual agreement, of settling it by the arbitrament
of war upon terms accordant with the British conception of right. Great
Britain therefore must give herself a national organisation for war and
must make preparation for war the nation's first business until a
reasonable security has been attained.
The question is, what weapons are now available for Great Britain in
case of a disagreement with Germany leading to conflict? In the old
wars, as we have seen, she had three modes of action. She used her navy
to obtain control of the sea-ways, and then she used that control partly
to destroy the sea-borne trade of her enemies, and partly to send armies
across the sea to attack her enemies' armies. By the combination of
these three modes of operation she was strong enough to give valuable
help to other Powers, and therefore she had allies whose assistance was
as useful to her as hers to them. To-day, as we have seen, the same
conditions no longer exist. The British navy may indeed hope to obtain
control of the sea-ways, but the law of maritime war, as it has been
settled by the Declarations of Paris and of London, makes it
impracticable for Great Britain to use a naval victory, even if she wins
it, in such a way as to be able commercially to throttle a hostile
Power, while the British military forces available for employment on the
Continent are so small as hardly to count in the balance. The result is
that Great Britain's power of action against a possible enemy is greatly
reduced, partly in consequence of changes in the laws of war, but
perhaps still more in consequence of the fact that while other Powers
are organised for war as nations, England in regard to war is still in
the condition of the eighteenth century, relying upon a small standing
army, a purely professional navy, and a large half-trained force, called
Territorial, neither ready for war nor available outside the United
Kingdom.
There is a school of politicians who imagine that Great Britain's
weakness can be supplemented from other parts of the British Empire.
That is an idea which ought not to be received without the most careful
examination and in my judgment must, except within narrow limits, be
rejected.
In a war between Great Britain and a continental State or combination
the assistance which Great Britain could possibly receive from the
King's dominions beyond the sea is necessarily limited. Such a war must
in the first place be a naval contest, towards which the most that the
colonies can contribute consists in such additions to Great Britain's
naval strength as they may have given during the preceding period of
peace. What taken together they may do in this way would no doubt make
an appreciable difference in the balance of forces between the two
contending navies; but in the actual struggle the colonies would be
little more than spectators, except in so far as their ports would offer
a certain number of secure bases for the cruisers upon which Great
Britain must rely for the protection of her sea-borne trade. Even if all
the colonies possessed first-rate armies, the help which those armies
could give would not be equal to that obtainable from a single European
ally. For a war against a European adversary Great Britain must rely
upon her own resources, and upon such assistance as she might obtain if
it were felt by other Powers on the Continent not only that the cause in
which she was fighting was vital to them and therefore called for their
co-operation, but also that in the struggle Great Britain's assistance
would be likely to turn the scale in their favour.