THE DUTY TO MAKE WAR
Prince Bismarck repeatedly declared before the German Reichstag that no
one should ever take upon himself the immense responsibility of
intentionally bringing about a war. It could not, he said, be foreseen
what unexpected events might occur, which altered the whole situation,
and made a war, with its attendant dangers and horrors, superfluous. In
his "Thoughts and Reminiscences" he expresses himself to this effect:
"Even victorious wars can only be justified when they are forced upon a
nation, and we cannot see the cards held by Providence so closely as to
anticipate the historical development by personal calculation." [A]
[Footnote A: "Gedanken und Erinnerungen," vol. ii., p. 93.]
We need not discuss whether Prince Bismarck wished this dictum to be
regarded as a universally applicable principle, or whether he uttered it
as a supplementary explanation of the peace policy which he carried out
for so long. It is difficult to gauge its true import. The notion of
forcing a war upon a nation bears various interpretations. We must not
think merely of external foes who compel us to fight. A war may seem to
be forced upon a statesman by the state of home affairs, or by the
pressure of the whole political situation.
Prince Bismarck did not, however, always act according to the strict
letter of that speech; it is his special claim to greatness that at the
decisive moment he did not lack the boldness to begin a war on his own
initiative. The thought which he expresses in his later utterances
cannot, in my opinion, be shown to be a universally applicable principle
of political conduct. If we wish to regard it as such, we shall not only
run counter to the ideas of our greatest German Prince, but we exclude
from politics that independence of action which is the true motive
force.
The greatness of true statesmanship consists in a knowledge of the
natural trend of affairs, and in a just appreciation of the value of the
controlling forces, which it uses and guides in its own interest. It
does not shrink from the conflicts, which under the given conditions are
unavoidable, but decides them resolutely by war when a favourable
position affords prospect of a successful issue. In this way statecraft
becomes a tool of Providence, which employs the human will to attain its
ends. "Men make history," [B] as Bismarck's actions clearly show.
[Footnote B: Treitschke, "Deutsche Geschichte," i., p. 28.]
No doubt the most strained political situation may unexpectedly admit of
a peaceful solution. The death of some one man, the setting of some
great ambition, the removal of some master-will, may be enough to change
it fundamentally. But the great disputes in the life of a nation cannot
be settled so simply. The man who wished to bring the question to a
decisive issue may disappear, and the political crisis pass for the
moment; the disputed points still exist, and lead once more to quarrels,
and finally to war, if they are due to really great and irreconcilable
interests. With the death of King Edward VII. of England the policy of
isolation, which he introduced with much adroit statesmanship against
Germany, has broken down. The antagonism of Germany and England, based
on the conflict of the interests and claims of the two nations, still
persists, although the diplomacy which smoothes down, not always
profitably, all causes of difference has succeeded in slackening the
tension for the moment, not without sacrifices on the side of Germany.
It is clearly an untenable proposition that political action should
depend on indefinite possibilities. A completely vague factor would be
thus arbitrarily introduced into politics, which have already many
unknown quantities to reckon with; they would thus be made more or less
dependent on chance.
It may be, then, assumed as obvious that the great practical politician
Bismarck did not wish that his words on the political application of war
should be interpreted in the sense which has nowadays so frequently been
attributed to them, in order to lend the authority of the great man to a
weak cause. Only those conditions which can be ascertained and estimated
should determine political action.
For the moral justification of the political decision we must not look
to its possible consequences, but to its aim and its motives, to the
conditions assumed by the agent, and to the trustworthiness, honour, and
sincerity of the considerations which led to action. Its practical value
is determined by an accurate grasp of the whole situation, by a correct
estimate of the resources of the two parties, by a clear anticipation of
the probable results--in short, by statesmanlike insight and promptness
of decision.
If the statesman acts in this spirit, he will have an acknowledged
right, under certain circumstances, to begin a war, regarded as
necessary, at the most favourable moment, and to secure for his country
the proud privilege of such initiative. If a war, on which a Minister
cannot willingly decide, is bound to be fought later under possibly far
more unfavourable conditions, a heavy responsibility for the greater
sacrifices that must then be made will rest on those whose strength and
courage for decisive political action failed at the favourable moment.
In the face of such considerations a theory by which a war ought never
to be brought about falls to the ground. And yet this theory has in our
day found many supporters, especially in Germany.
Even statesmen who consider that the complete abolition of war is
impossible, and do not believe that the _ultima ratio_ can be banished
from the life of nations, hold the opinion that its advent should be
postponed so long as possible.[C]
[Footnote C: Speech of the Imperial Chancellor, v. Bethmann-Hollweg, on
March 30, 1911. In his speech of November 9, 1911, the Imperial
Chancellor referred to the above-quoted words of Prince Bismarck
in order to obtain a peaceful solution of the Morocco question.]
Those who favour this view take up approximately the same attitude as
the supporters of the Peace idea, so far as regarding war exclusively as
a curse, and ignoring or underestimating its creative and civilizing
importance. According to this view, a war recognized as inevitable must
be postponed so long as possible, and no statesman is entitled to use
exceptionally favourable conditions in order to realize necessary and
justifiable aspirations by force of arms.
Such theories only too easily disseminate the false and ruinous notion
that the maintenance of peace is the ultimate object, or at least the
chief duty, of any policy.
To such views, the offspring of a false humanity, the clear and definite
answer must be made that, under certain circumstances, it is not only
the right, but the moral and political duty of the statesman to bring
about a war.
Wherever we open the pages of history we find proofs of the fact that
wars, begun at the right moment with manly resolution, have effected the
happiest results, both politically and socially. A feeble policy has
always worked harm, since the statesman lacked the requisite firmness to
take the risk of a necessary war, since he tried by diplomatic tact to
adjust the differences of irreconcilable foes, and deceived himself as
to the gravity of the situation and the real importance of the matter.
Our own recent history in its vicissitudes supplies us with the most
striking examples of this.
The Great Elector laid the foundations of Prussia's power by successful
and deliberately incurred wars. Frederick the Great followed in the
steps of his glorious ancestor. "He noticed how his state occupied an
untenable middle position between the petty states and the great Powers,
and showed his determination to give a definite character (_décider cet
être_) to this anomalous existence; it had become essential to enlarge
the territory of the State and _corriger la figure de la Prusse_, if
Prussia wished to be independent and to bear with honour the great name
of 'Kingdom.'" [D] The King made allowance for this political necessity,
and took the bold determination of challenging Austria to fight. None of
the wars which he fought had been forced upon him; none of them did he
postpone as long as possible. He had always determined to be the
aggressor, to anticipate his opponents, and to secure for himself
favourable prospects of success. We all know what he achieved. The whole
history of the growth of the European nations and of mankind generally
would have been changed had the King lacked that heroic power of
decision which he showed.
[Footnote D Treitschke, "Deutsche Geschichte," i., p. 51.]
We see a quite different development under the reign of Frederick
William III., beginning with the year of weakness 1805, of which our
nation cannot be too often reminded.
It was manifest that war with Napoleon could not permanently be avoided.
Nevertheless, in spite of the French breach of neutrality, the Prussian
Government could not make up its mind to hurry to the help of the allied
Russians and Austrians, but tried to maintain peace, though at a great
moral cost. According to all human calculation, the participation of
Prussia in the war of 1805 would have given the Allies a decisive
superiority. The adherence to neutrality led to the crash of 1806, and
would have meant the final overthrow of Prussia as a State had not the
moral qualities still existed there which Frederick the Great had
ingrained on her by his wars. At the darkest moment of defeat they shone
most brightly. In spite of the political downfall, the effects of
Frederick's victories kept that spirit alive with which he had inspired
his State and his people. This is clearly seen in the quite different
attitude of the Prussian people and the other Germans under the
degrading yoke of the Napoleonic tyranny. The power which had been
acquired by the Prussians through long and glorious wars showed itself
more valuable than all the material blessings which peace created; it
was not to be broken down by the defeat of 1806, and rendered possible
the heroic revival of 1813.
The German wars of Unification also belong to the category of wars
which, in spite of a thousand sacrifices, bring forth a rich harvest.
The instability and political weakness which the Prussian Government
showed in 1848, culminating in the disgrace of Olmütz in 1850, had
deeply shaken the political and national importance of Prussia. On the
other hand, the calm conscious strength with which she faced once more
her duties as a nation, when King William I. and Bismarck were at the
helm, was soon abundantly manifest. Bismarck, by bringing about our
wars of Unification in order to improve radically an untenable position
and secure to our people healthy conditions of life, fulfilled the
long-felt wish of the German people, and raised Germany to the
undisputed rank of a first-class European Power. The military successes
and the political position won by the sword laid the foundation for an
unparalleled material prosperity. It is difficult to imagine how
pitiable the progress of the German people would have been had not these
wars been brought about by a deliberate policy.
The most recent history tells the same story. If we judge the Japanese
standpoint with an unbiased mind we shall find the resolution to fight
Russia was not only heroic, but politically wise and morally
justifiable. It was immensely daring to challenge the Russian giant, but
the purely military conditions were favourable, and the Japanese nation,
which had rapidly risen to a high stage of civilization, needed an
extended sphere of influence to complete her development, and to open
new channels for her superabundant activities. Japan, from her own point
of view, was entitled to claim to be the predominant civilized power in
Eastern Asia, and to repudiate the rivalry of Russia. The Japanese
statesmen were justified by the result. The victorious campaign created
wider conditions of life for the Japanese people and State, and at one
blow raised it to be a determining co-factor in international politics,
and gave it a political importance which must undeniably lead to great
material advancement. If this war had been avoided from weakness or
philanthropic illusions, it is reasonable to assume that matters would
have taken a very different turn. The growing power of Russia in the
Amur district and in Korea would have repelled or at least hindered the
Japanese rival from rising to such a height of power as was attained
through this war, glorious alike for military prowess and political
foresight.
The appropriate and conscious employment of war as a political means has
always led to happy results. Even an unsuccessfully waged war may
sometimes be more beneficial to a people than the surrender of vital
interests without a blow. We find an example of this in the recent
heroic struggle of the small Boer States against the British Empire. In
this struggle they were inevitably defeated. It was easy to foresee that
an armed peasantry could not permanently resist the combined forces of
England and her colonies, and that the peasant armies generally could
not bear heavy losses. But yet--if all indications are not
misleading--the blood shed by the Boer people will yield a free and
prosperous future. In spite of much weakness, the resistance was heroic;
men like President Stein, Botha, and De Wett, with their gallant
followers, performed many great military feats. The whole nation
combined and rose unanimously to fight for the freedom of which Byron
sings:
"For freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won."
Inestimable moral gains, which can never be lost in any later
developments, have been won by this struggle. The Boers have maintained
their place as a nation; in a certain sense they have shown themselves
superior to the English. It was only after many glorious victories that
they yielded to a crushingly superior force. They accumulated a store of
fame and national consciousness which makes them, though conquered, a
power to be reckoned with. The result of this development is that the
Boers are now the foremost people in South Africa, and that England
preferred to grant them self-government than to be faced by their
continual hostility. This laid the foundation for the United Free States
of South Africa.[E]
[Footnote E: "War and the Arme Blanche," by Erskine Childers: "The truth
came like a flash ... that all along we had been conquering the
country, not the race; winning positions, not battles" (p. 215).
"To ... aim at so cowing the Boer national spirit, as to gain a
permanent political ascendancy for ourselves, was an object beyond
our power to achieve. Peaceable political fusion under our own flag
was the utmost we could secure. That means a conditional surrender,
or a promise of future autonomy" (pp. 227-228). Lord Roberts wrote
a very appreciative introduction to this book without any protest
against the opinions expressed in it.]
President Kruger, who decided on this most justifiable war, and not
Cecil Rhodes, will, in spite of the tragic ending to the war itself, be
known in all ages as the great far-sighted statesman of South Africa,
who, despite the unfavourable material conditions, knew how to value the
inestimable moral qualities according to their real importance.
The lessons of history thus confirm the view that wars which have been
deliberately provoked by far-seeing statesmen have had the happiest
results. War, nevertheless, must always be a violent form of political
agent, which not only contains in itself the danger of defeat, but in
every case calls for great sacrifices, and entails incalculable misery.
He who determines upon war accepts a great responsibility.
It is therefore obvious that no one can come to such a decision except
from the most weighty reasons, more especially under the existing
conditions which have created national armies. Absolute clearness of
vision is needed to decide how and when such a resolution can be taken,
and what political aims justify the use of armed force.
This question therefore needs careful consideration, and a satisfactory
answer can only be derived from an examination of the essential duty of
the State.
If this duty consists in giving scope to the highest intellectual and
moral development of the citizens, and in co-operating in the moral
education of the human race, then the State's own acts must necessarily
conform to the moral laws. But the acts of the State cannot be judged by
the standard of individual morality. If the State wished to conform to
this standard it would often find itself at variance with its own
particular duties. The morality of the State must be developed out of
its own peculiar essence, just as individual morality is rooted in the
personality of the man and his duties towards society. The morality of
the State must be judged by the nature and _raison d'être_ of the State,
and not of the individual citizen. But the end-all and be-all of a State
is power, and "he who is not man enough to look this truth in the face
should not meddle in politics." [F]
[Footnote F: Treitschke, "Politik," i., p 3, and ii., p 28.]
Machiavelli was the first to declare that the keynote of every policy
was the advancement of power. This term, however, has acquired, since
the German Reformation, a meaning other than that of the shrewd
Florentine. To him power was desirable in itself; for us "the State is
not physical power as an end in itself, it is power to protect and
promote the higher interests"; "power must justify itself by being
applied for the greatest good of mankind." [G]
[Footnote G: Treitschke, "Politik," i., p 3, and ii., p 28.]
The criterion of the personal morality of the individual "rests in the
last resort on the question whether he has recognized and developed his
own nature to the highest attainable degree of perfection." [H] If the
same standard is applied to the State, then "its highest moral duty is
to increase its power. The individual must sacrifice himself for the
higher community of which he is a member; but the State is itself the
highest conception in the wider community of man, and therefore the duty
of self-annihilation does not enter into the case. The Christian duty of
sacrifice for something higher does not exist for the State, for there
is nothing higher than it in the world's history; consequently it cannot
sacrifice itself to something higher. When a State sees its downfall
staring it in the face, we applaud if it succumbs sword in hand. A
sacrifice made to an alien nation not only is immoral, but contradicts
the idea of self-preservation, which is the highest ideal of a
State." [I]
[Footnote H: _Ibid._]
[Footnote I: _Ibid_., i., p 3.]
I have thought it impossible to explain the foundations of political
morality better than in the words of our great national historian. But
we can reach the same conclusions by another road. The individual is
responsible only for himself. If, either from weakness or from moral
reasons, he neglects his own advantage, he only injures himself, the
consequences of his actions recoil only on him. The situation is quite
different in the case of a State. It represents the ramifying and often
conflicting interests of a community. Should it from any reason neglect
the interests, it not only to some extent prejudices itself as a legal
personality, but it injures also the body of private interests
which it represents. This incalculably far-reaching detriment affects
not merely one individual responsible merely to himself, but a mass of
individuals and the community. Accordingly it is a moral duty of the
State to remain loyal to its own peculiar function as guardian and
promoter of all higher interests. This duty it cannot fulfil unless it
possesses the needful power.
The increase of this power is thus from this standpoint also the first
and foremost duty of the State. This aspect of the question supplies a
fair standard by which the morality of the actions of the State can be
estimated. The crucial question is, How far has the State performed this
duty, and thus served the interests of the community? And this not
merely in the material sense, but in the higher meaning that material
interests are justifiable only so far as they promote the power of the
State, and thus indirectly its higher aims.
It is obvious, in view of the complexity of social conditions, that
numerous private interests must be sacrificed to the interest of the
community, and, from the limitations of human discernment, it is only
natural that the view taken of interests of the community may be
erroneous. Nevertheless the advancement of the power of the State must
be first and foremost the object that guides the statesman's policy.
"Among all political sins, the sin of feebleness is the most
contemptible; it is the political sin against the Holy Ghost." [J] This
argument of political morality is open to the objection that it leads
logically to the Jesuitic principle, that the end justifies the means;
that, according to it, to increase the power of the State all measures
are permissible.
[Footnote J: Treitschke, "Politik," i., p 3.]
A most difficult problem is raised by the question how far, for
political objects moral in themselves, means may be employed which must
be regarded as reprehensible in the life of the individual. So far as I
know, no satisfactory solution has yet been obtained, and I do not feel
bound to attempt one at this point. War, with which I am dealing at
present, is no reprehensible means in itself, but it may become so if it
pursues unmoral or frivolous aims, which bear no comparison with the
seriousness of warlike measures. I must deviate here a little from my
main theme, and discuss shortly some points which touch the question of
political morality.
The gulf between political and individual morality is not so wide as is
generally assumed. The power of the State does not rest exclusively on
the factors that make up material power--territory, population, wealth,
and a large army and navy: it rests to a high degree on moral elements,
which are reciprocally related to the material. The energy with which a
State promotes its own interests and represents the rights of its
citizens in foreign States, the determination which it displays to
support them on occasion by force of arms, constitute a real factor of
strength, as compared with all such countries as cannot bring themselves
to let things come to a crisis in a like case. Similarly a reliable and
honourable policy forms an element of strength in dealings with allies
as well as with foes. A statesman is thus under no obligation to deceive
deliberately. He can from the political standpoint avoid all
negotiations which compromise his personal integrity, and he will
thereby serve the reputation and power of his State no less than when he
holds aloof from political menaces, to which no acts correspond, and
renounces all political formulas and phrases.
In antiquity the murder of a tyrant was thought a moral action, and the
Jesuits have tried to justify regicide.[K] At the present day political
murder is universally condemned from the standpoint of political
morality. The same holds good of preconcerted political deception. A
State which employed deceitful methods would soon sink into disrepute.
The man who pursues moral ends with unmoral means is involved in a
contradiction of motives, and nullifies the object at which he aims,
since he denies it by his actions. It is not, of course, necessary that
a man communicate all his intentions and ultimate objects to an
opponent; the latter can be left to form his own opinion on this point.
But it is not necessary to lie deliberately or to practise crafty
deceptions. A fine frankness has everywhere been the characteristic of
great statesmen. Subterfuges and duplicity mark the petty spirit of
diplomacy.
[Footnote K: Mariana, "De rege et regis institutione." Toledo, 1598.]
Finally, the relations between two States must often be termed a latent
war, which is provisionally being waged in peaceful rivalry. Such a
position justifies the employment of hostile methods, cunning, and
deception, just as war itself does, since in such a case both parties
are determined to employ them. I believe after all that a conflict
between personal and political morality may be avoided by wise and
prudent diplomacy, if there is no concealment of the desired end, and it
is recognized that the means employed must correspond to the ultimately
moral nature of that end.
Recognized rights are, of course, often violated by political action.
But these, as we have already shown, are never absolute rights; they are
of human origin, and therefore imperfect and variable. There are
conditions under which they do not correspond to the actual truth of
things; in this case the _summum jus summa injuria_ holds good, and the
infringement of the right appears morally justified. York's decision to
conclude the convention of Tauroggen was indisputably a violation of
right, but it was a moral act, for the Franco-Prussian alliance was made
under compulsion, and was antagonistic to all the vital interests of the
Prussian State; it was essentially untrue and immoral. Now it is always
justifiable to terminate an immoral situation.
As regards the employment of war as a political means, our argument
shows that it becomes the duty of a State to make use of the _ultima
ratio_ not only when it is attacked, but when by the policy of other
States the power of the particular State is threatened, and peaceful
methods are insufficient to secure its integrity. This power, as we saw,
rests on a material basis, but finds expression in ethical values. War
therefore seems imperative when, although the material basis of power is
not threatened, the moral influence of the State (and this is the
ultimate point at issue) seems to be prejudiced. Thus apparently
trifling causes may under certain circumstances constitute a fully
justifiable _casus belli_ if the honour of the State, and consequently
its moral prestige, are endangered. This prestige is an essential part
of its power. An antagonist must never be allowed to believe that there
is any lack of determination to assert this prestige, even if the sword
must be drawn to do so.
In deciding for war or peace, the next important consideration is
whether the question under discussion is sufficiently vital for the
power of the State to justify the determination to fight; whether the
inevitable dangers and miseries of a war do not threaten to inflict
greater injury on the interests of the State than the disadvantages
which, according to human calculation, must result if war is not
declared. A further point to be considered is whether the general
position of affairs affords some reasonable prospect of military
success. With these considerations of expediency certain other weighty
aspects of the question must also be faced.
It must always be kept in mind that a State is not justified in looking
only to the present, and merely consulting the immediate advantage of
the existing generation. Such policy would be opposed to all that
constitutes the essential nature of the State. Its conduct must be
guided by the moral duties incumbent on it, which, as one step is
gained, point to the next higher, and prepare the present for the
future. "The true greatness of the State is that it links the past with
the present and the future; consequently the individual has no right to
regard the State as a means for attaining his own ambitions in life." [L]
[Footnote L: Treitschke, "Politik," i., p 3.]
The law of development thus becomes a leading factor in politics, and in
the decision for war this consideration must weigh more heavily than the
sacrifices necessarily to be borne in the present. "I cannot conceive,"
Zelter once wrote to Goethe, "how any right deed can be performed
without sacrifice; all worthless actions must lead to the very opposite
of what is desirable."
A second point of view which must not be neglected is precisely that
which Zelter rightly emphasizes. A great end cannot be attained except
by staking large intellectual and material resources, and no certainty
of success can ever be anticipated. Every undertaking implies a greater
or less venture. The daily intercourse of civic life teaches us this
lesson; and it cannot be otherwise in politics where account must be
taken of most powerful antagonists whose strength can only be vaguely
estimated. In questions of comparatively trifling importance much may be
done by agreements and compromises, and mutual concessions may produce a
satisfactory status. The solution of such problems is the sphere of
diplomatic activity. The state of things is quite different when vital
questions are at issue, or when the opponent demands concession, but
will guarantee none, and is clearly bent on humiliating the other party.
Then is the time for diplomatists to be silent and for great statesmen
to act. Men must be resolved to stake everything, and cannot shun the
solemn decision of war. In such questions any reluctance to face the
opponent, every abandonment of important interests, and every attempt at
a temporizing settlement, means not only a momentary loss of political
prestige, and frequently of real power, which may possibly be made good
in another place, but a permanent injury to the interests of the State,
the full gravity of which is only felt by future generations.
Not that a rupture of pacific relations must always result in such a
case. The mere threat of war and the clearly proclaimed intention to
wage it, if necessary, will often cause the opponent to give way. This
intention must, however, be made perfectly plain, for "negotiations
without arms are like music-books without instruments," as Frederick the
Great said. It is ultimately the actual strength of a nation to which
the opponent's purpose yields. When, therefore, the threat of war is
insufficient to call attention to its own claims the concert must begin;
the obligation is unconditional, and the _right_ to fight becomes the
_duty_ to make war, incumbent on the nation and statesman alike.
Finally, there is a third point to be considered. Cases may occur where
war must be made simply as a point of honour, although there is no
prospect of success. The responsibility of this has also to be borne. So
at least Frederick the Great thought. His brother Henry, after the
battle of Kolin, had advised him to throw himself at the feet of the
Marquise de Pompadour in order to purchase a peace with France. Again,
after the battle of Kunersdorf his position seemed quite hopeless, but
the King absolutely refused to abandon the struggle. He knew better what
suited the honour and the moral value of his country, and preferred to
die sword in hand than to conclude a degrading peace. President
Roosevelt, in his message to the Congress of the United States of
America on December 4, 1906, gave expression to a similar thought. "It
must ever be kept in mind," so the manly and inspiriting words ran,
"that war is not merely justifiable, but imperative, upon honourable men
and upon an honourable nation when peace is only to be obtained by the
sacrifice of conscientious conviction or of national welfare. A just war
is in the long-run far better for a nation's soul than the most
prosperous peace obtained by an acquiescence in wrong or injustice....
It must be remembered that even to be defeated in war may be better than
not to have fought at all."
To sum up these various views, we may say that expediency in the higher
sense must be conclusive in deciding whether to undertake a war in
itself morally justifiable. Such decision is rendered more easy by the
consideration that the prospects of success are always the greatest when
the moment for declaring war can be settled to suit the political and
military situation.
It must further be remembered that every success in foreign policy,
especially if obtained by a demonstration of military strength, not only
heightens the power of the State in foreign affairs, but adds to the
reputation of the Government at home, and thus enables it better to
fulfil its moral aims and civilizing duties.
No one will thus dispute the assumption that, under certain
circumstances, it is the moral and political duty of the State to employ
war as a political means. So long as all human progress and all natural
development are based on the law of conflict, it is necessary to engage
in such conflict under the most favourable conditions possible.
When a State is confronted by the material impossibility of supporting
any longer the warlike preparations which the power of its enemies has
forced upon it, when it is clear that the rival States must gradually
acquire from natural reasons a lead that cannot be won back, when there
are indications of an offensive alliance of stronger enemies who only
await the favourable moment to strike--the moral duty of the State
towards its citizens is to begin the struggle while the prospects of
success and the political circumstances are still tolerably favourable.
When, on the other hand, the hostile States are weakened or hampered by
affairs at home and abroad, but its own warlike strength shows elements
of superiority, it is imperative to use the favourable circumstances to
promote its own political aims. The danger of a war may be faced the
more readily if there is good prospect that great results may be
obtained with comparatively small sacrifices.
These obligations can only be met by a vigorous, resolute, active
policy, which follows definite ideas, and understands how to arouse and
concentrate all the living forces of the State, conscious of the truth
of Schiller's lines:
"The chance that once thou hast refused
Will never through the centuries recur."
The verdict of history will condemn the statesman who was unable to take
the responsibility of a bold decision, and sacrificed the hopes of the
future to the present need of peace.
It is obvious that under these circumstances it is extremely difficult
to answer the question whether in any special case conditions exist
which justify the determination to make war. The difficulty is all the
greater because the historical significance of the act must be
considered, and the immediate result is not the final criterion of its
justification.
War is not always the final judgment of Heaven. There are successes
which are transitory while the national life is reckoned by centuries.
The ultimate verdict can only be obtained by the survey of long
epochs.[M]
[Footnote M: Treitschke, "Politik," i., p 2.]
54
The man whose high and responsible lot is to steer the fortunes of a
great State must be able to disregard the verdict of his contemporaries;
but he must be all the clearer as to the motives of his own policy, and
keep before his eyes, with the full weight of the categorical
imperative, the teaching of Kant: "Act so that the maxim of thy will can
at the same time hold good as a principle of universal legislation." [N]
[Footnote N: Kant, "Kritik der praktischen Vernuft," p. 30.]
He must have a clear conception of the nature and purpose of the State,
and grasp this from the highest moral standpoint. He can in no other way
settle the rules of his policy and recognize clearly the laws of
political morality.
He must also form a clear conception of the special duties to be
fulfilled by the nation, the guidance of whose fortunes rests in his
hands. He must clearly and definitely formulate these duties as the
fixed goal of statesmanship. When he is absolutely clear upon this point
he can judge in each particular case what corresponds to the true
interests of the State; then only can he act systematically in the
definite prospect of smoothing the paths of politics, and securing
favourable conditions for the inevitable conflicts; then only, when the
hour for combat strikes and the decision to fight faces him, can he rise
with a free spirit and a calm breast to that standpoint which Luther
once described in blunt, bold language: "It is very true that men write
and say often what a curse war is. But they ought to consider how much
greater is that curse which is averted by war. Briefly, in the business
of war men must not regard the massacres, the burnings, the battles, and
the marches, etc.--that is what the petty and simple do who only look
with the eyes of children at the surgeon, how he cuts off the hand or
saws off the leg, but do not see or notice that he does it in order to
save the whole body. Thus we must look at the business of war or the
sword with the eyes of men, asking, Why these murders and horrors? It
will be shown that it is a business, divine in itself, and as needful
and necessary to the world as eating or drinking, or any other work."[O]
[Footnote O: Luther, "Whether soldiers can be in a state of salvation."]
Thus in order to decide what paths German policy must take in order to
further the interests of the German people, and what possibilities of
war are involved, we must first try to estimate the problems of State
and of civilization which are to be solved, and discover what political
purposes correspond to these problems.