The psychology of Nations by G.E. Partridge - HTML preview

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CHAPTER III

INSTINCTS IN WAR: FEAR, HATE, THE AGGRESSIVE IMPULSE, MOTIVES OF

COMBAT AND DESTRUCTION, THE SOCIAL INSTINCT

We have found that the essential, and we might say, primary

psychological datum of war is a war-mood, that the central motive of

this war-mood is a general impulse which we called the intoxication

motive, and that this intoxication motive, considered generically, and

in regard to its specific meaning is a craving for power and for the

experience of exerting and feeling power. The war-mood is not a mere

collection of instincts; it is a new product, in which instincts and

emotions have a place. There are several reasons, practical and

theoretical, for regarding it as a highly important problem to

discover what the actual content of this war-mood is.

This mood, being

one of the greatest of all powers of good and evil, and one most in

need to-day of education and re-direction, it may be, it will probably

be controlled, if ever, upon the basis of a knowledge of what it means

as a whole, and of what its elements are which appear in the form of

fused, transformed, truncated, generalized and aborted instincts and

feelings.

_Primitive Tendencies_

First of all, the highly complex emotions, moods and impulses we find

in the social consciousness as expressed in the moods of war, do

contain and revert to instincts and feelings that are part of the

primitive equipment of organic life, and are usually identified as

nutritional and reproductive tendencies. The part played in war by

the migratory impulse, the predatory impulse and the like indicates

the connection of the war-moods with the nutritional tendencies; and

the display elements found already in primitive warfare and, as we

have already inferred, in all forms of ecstasy contain factors that

are at bottom sexual. We no longer eat our enemies, and we do not

bring home their heads to our women or practice wife stealing, but it

is easy to observe the remnants of these old feelings and instincts in

war. Trophy hunting continues, and we may suppose that even the moods

of primitive cannibalism have not entirely been lost.

The ready

habituation of soldiers to some of the scenes of the recent war seems

to suggest a lingering trace of this motive, while the looting impulse

which plays such a part in war, and some aspects of the destructive

impulses and the like that are displayed, are, with a high degree of

probability, closely related to instincts that were once specifically

practical and belong to the fundamental nutritional motives. Nor is it

a mere euphemism, perhaps, when we speak of the greed of nations, nor

solely analogical when we compare the ambitions of peoples with

certain adolescent phenomena in the life of the individual. Plainly

the social consciousness, as a collective mood, does not command the

specific reactions connected with sexuality and nutrition, but we may

observe the presence of these instinctive reactions in two phases of

war. We see them in the tendencies of various individuals, who under

the excitements of the war moods are controlled more or less

specifically by instinctive reactions. We see also fragments of

instinctive reactions and primitive feeling woven into the total

states of social consciousness. The hunger motive may, and probably

does, supply some of the elements of the fear and the aggressive moods

of war; just as the sex motive provides some of the elements of anger

and hatred, and some of the qualities of combat itself.

_The Aggressive Instinct_

A natural, but somewhat naïve explanation of war is that it is a

survival of the aggressive instinct that man has brought up with him

from animal life, in which he originated, and that very early in his

career was directed toward his fellow men. This aggressive instinct as

expressed in the modern spirit of war does not need, on this view, to

be thought of as something reverted to. It is still active throughout

the social life. Both the purposes and the methods of it remain. We

have referred to one aspect of this before, and to the objection that

can be made that the ancestry of man does not show us such an

aggressive instinct. The nearest relatives of man are mainly social

rather than aggressive in their habits. Even the habits of hunting

other animals and eating animal food appear to have been acquired

during man's career as man, and he never has had the aggressive temper

that some creatures have had. Man has acquired a very effectual and

very complex adjustment to his environment by piecing together, so to

speak, fragments of his original conduct, and developing mechanisms

that have been produced in the race as a means of satisfying

fundamental needs. Modes of reaction produced originally for one

purpose have apparently been utilized by other motives.

Of course the

more specific animal instincts are not wholly lacking, but it is also

true that man through his social life has produced habits that

resemble or are substitutes for primitive instincts. The love of

combat, especially as it is shown in play indicates the presence of

instinctive roots, but it does not show the existence of a definite

instinct of aggression. This play is in part an off-shoot of the

reproductive motive. These fighting plays of children are in part

sexual plays, and we see them clearly in their true light in some of

the higher mammals most closely related to man.

One aspect of the aggressive habit of man has been too much neglected.

It is highly probable that aggression in man has been far more closely

related to the emotion of fear than to any assumed predatory instinct.

It is a question whether the predatory habit of man, ending in

cannibalism and the hunting of animals for food, did not originate in

the time of the long battle man must have had with animals in which

the animals themselves for the most part played the part of

aggressors. It was not for nothing, at any rate, that our animal

ancestors took to the trees, and it is certain that the fear element

in human nature is very strong and very deeply ingrained. We see

throughout animal life fear expressed by aggressive movements, by the

show of anger, as well as by flight. This is seen especially clearly

in the birds. With all their equipment for the defensive strategy of

flight they express fear instinctively by attacking, and this is

apparently not a result merely of the habit of defending the young.

The great carnivora also attack from fear, and seem normally never to

attack such animals as they do not hunt for prey unless they are

frightened. The charge of the rhinoceros and other great ungulates is

probably always a fear reaction. They appear to have no other

aggressive impulses, certainly none connected with the nutritional

motives since they are herbivorous in habit.

The fear motive is probably much deeper in human nature, both in the

lower and the higher social reactions than is commonly supposed, the

concealment of fear being precisely a part of the strategy of defense.

Fear has created more history than it is usually given credit for. The

aggressive motive alone, in all probability, would never have made

history such a story of battles as it has been. Nations usually

attribute more aggressive intentions and motives to their neighbors

than their neighbors possess, and war is certainly often precipitated

by an accumulation of mutual distrust and suspicion.

Nations are

always watching one another for the least signs of aggression on the

part of their supposed enemies, an attitude which of course is

inspired only by apprehension.

Moods of fear and pessimism we say are deeply implanted in the

consciousness of man, and we must interpret both his optimism, and all

its expressions in philosophy and in religion, and also his aggressive

behavior as in large part the result of a conscious or an unconscious

effort to overcome his fear. The social consciousness is full of marks

of age-long dread and suspicion. Fear of fate, fear of losing identity

as a nation, fear of being overrun by an enemy, fear of internal

disruption, are strong motives in national life. Fear runs like a dark

thread through all the life of nations, and gives to it a quality of

mysticism, and a touch of sadness which is so characteristic of much

of the deepest patriotism of the world.

Fear is one of the most powerful motives of all aggressive warfare in

the world. We find it in every nation, even those which are naturally

most aggressive, and in them perhaps most of all. In the history and

in the war moods of Germany the fear motive is unmistakable. America

is not without it. Nations conceal their fears, presenting a bold

front to the foreigner; but beneath the display one can always detect

suspicion, dread and intense watchfulness. America has in the past

feared Germany, and America fears the Far East; we look furtively

toward Asia, the primeval home of all evils and pestilence, for

something that may arise and engulf us. Small countries fear; large

countries with their sense of distances, have their own characteristic

forms of apprehension. Fear is the motive of preventive wars. It makes

all nations desire to kill their enemies in the egg. It creates the

death wish toward all who thwart our interests or who may in the

future do so.

This fear motive runs through all history. Parsons says that men fight

not because they are warlike, but because they are fearful. Rohrbach

thinks that if Germany and England could each be sure the other would

not be aggressive there would be no war between them. It is this

aspect of the foreign as the unknown that especially plays upon the

motive of fear. This fear is like the child's dread of the dark; it is

not what is seen, but what is not seen that causes apprehension. It is

the stranger whose psychic nature we cannot penetrate, who causes

fear. In small countries having only land borders, this attitude of

suspicion and fear must become an integral part of the whole psychic

structure of the national consciousness. Fear becomes morbid; nations

have illusions and delusions based upon fear. There are reasons for

believing that all aggression contains a pessimistic motive, or

background, and that this pessimistic background is based upon the

emotion of fear. Countries that are most positively aggressive have

such a pessimistic strain. Pessimism is a shadow that lies across the

path of progress of modern Germany. This fear motive, the quality of

the animal that charges when at bay, is to be seen throughout all

German history. Germany's fear of Russia must certainly be blamed for

a great part of the pessimistic strain in the temperament of Germany,

and therefore as an important factor among the causes of the great

war. Every war appears to the people who conduct it as defensive,

precisely because every war is to some extent based upon fear, and

fear in national consciousness is a persistent sense of living by a

defensive strategy. It is existence that nations always think and talk

of fighting for; it is existence about which they have apprehensions.

Beneath all group life there is this sense of fear, since fear itself

was a large factor in creating that life. When people live together,

repress individual desires and participate in a common life we may

know that one of the strongest bonds of this social life is fear. The

need of defense is a more fundamental motive in national life than is

aggression. A "shudder runs through a nation about to go to battle."

The lusts of war are aroused later by the overcoming of fear.

Germany's inclination to preventive wars, her incessant plea of being

about to be attacked, can by no means be interpreted as pure

deception, or as an effort to make political capital.

Germany's army

_was_ primarily for defense, because a defensive strategy is the only

strategy that Germany with her position and her temperament can adopt.

Germany's great army was Germany's compensation, in consciousness, for

the insignificance of her territory. It was for defense.

It was also a

compensation for a feeling of inferiority, in Adler's sense.

Fanaticism, envy, depreciation of others, aggression, morbid and

excessive ambition were all fruits from the same stem.

The gloom which

many have found in German life, and the pessimism in German

philosophy, we may explain in part by the experiences of Germany as

the scene of so many devastating wars. Upon the background of fear, in

our interpretation of aggressive motives, is erected German autocracy,

German ambition and the conception of the absolute State, which may be

interpreted as almost a specific fear reaction. It comes in time to

have other meanings, and like many instinctive reactions, it may be

put to uses for which it was not originally produced, but there is

fear concealed in the heart of it. How action can be both defensive

and strongly aggressive, then, is no mystery if we see that aggression

may be a fear reaction, that even the most ardent imperialism is based

in part upon fear, upon the consciousness at some time of being weak

and inferior.

Fear and suspicion cause aggressive wars even when the fear may be, in

all reason, groundless. There is no more dangerous individual in the

community than the one having delusions of persecution, for his mania

is naturally homicidal. So with nations. Fear is a treacherous and

deceptive passion. We may see this fear, if we choose to look for it,

even in the ecstatic mood of war and the spiritual exaltation of

Germany during the first few weeks or months of the war.

This

exaltation was in part a reaction of fear--or a reaction from fear.

Germany was afraid, feared for her existence, and the exaltation was

in part a sense of taking a terrible plunge into the depths of fate.

Germany was afraid of Russia and afraid of England, and that fear had

to be overcome, because the presence of the fear itself was a matter

of life or death. But the exaltation did not merely succeed the fear.

It contained it. And why should Germany, even with all her

preparedness and her resources not be afraid? An inherited fear is not

so easily exorcised. Germany arrayed against all Russia and all the

British Empire, Germany no larger than our Texas experienced a state

of exaltation, overcoming fear. But it required something more than

courage to overcome the fear; and that other element was mysticism. To

the sense of throwing all into the hands of fate which, by all

physical signs must be adverse, was added, as a compensating element,

Germany's mystical belief in her security as a chosen nation. Fear, by

its intensity and depth may, like physical pain, become ecstatic and

thus be overcome.

_Hatred_

Hatred must be considered both as a cause of war, and as an element in

the war moods. Many authors have called hatred one of the deepest

roots of war. This hatred between nations even Freud says is

mysterious. But Pfister, referring to Adler's theory, says that war

must be understood precisely as we understand enmity among

individuals. A sense of inferiority is insulted, and thus aggressive

feelings are aroused. The nation, like the individual, is spurred on

to make good its claim to greatness. It is a feeling of jealousy based

upon a sense of inferiority that causes hatred. O'Ryan and Anderson

(5), military writers, say there are two causes of war: those based

upon an assumed necessity, and those based upon hatred.

Nusbaum (86)

also finds two causes of war, the expansion impulse and the egoism of

species, which leads to long enmities.

History shows that we must accept hatred as an underlying cause of

war. The reaction of deep anger which may be aroused by a variety of

situations that arise among nations, especially when it is, so to

speak, an outbreak of a long continued hatred, is a proximate cause of

wars. Hatred, the reaction of anger prolonged into a mood, differs as

national or group emotion from the anger of the individual in part by

being subject strongly to group suggestion, and in part because in the

group consciousness there is only rarely a means of expression, on the

part of the individuals of the group, of the feelings of hatred.

Enemies are far away and inaccessible. Therefore hatred may become

deep and chronic.

Hatred between nations is usually based upon a long series of

reprisals and a history of invasions. These invasions are primarily

physical invasions, but later invasions in the sphere of invisible

values, offenses to honor and the like are added. These ideal values

come to be regarded as more vital than material values.

Hatred between

groups becomes chronic and often seems to be groundless because the

values concerned have thus become intangible. The chronic moods of

hatred and dislike become explosive forces, ready to be excited to

action whenever any difference arises. Veblen (97) says wars never

occur except when questions of honor are involved, which is of course

equivalent to saying that the reaction of anger is always required as

an immediate cause of war. Veblen maintains also that emulation is

always involved in the patriotic spirit, that patriotism always

contains the idea of the defeat of an opponent, and is based upon

collective malevolence. The range of these occasions of crisis is so

great, and the feelings of hatred so persistent and volatile, that the

mechanism for the production of war is always present.

These causes

range all the way from violation of property to offense to the most

abstract ideas of national etiquette. Violation of international law,

of moral principles, we see now, may have very far-reaching effects as

infringing the sphere of honor of nations not directly concerned,

since the prestige of all nations as participants in creating law and

becoming upholders of it is affected.

If hatred and its crises are causes of war, they do not fit into the

moods in which warfare is generally conducted. Hatred belongs to the

periods of peace and of strained relations, when the cause of war is

present, but the means of retaliation are not at hand or not in

action. The prevalence and persistence of hatred in war is a sign of

imperfect morale. Hatred cannot remain in the war mood of a nation

acting with full confidence in its powers. Hatred always implies

inferiority or impotent superiority. Dide (20) says that the spirit of

hatred does not fit into the soldier's life. It goes with the desire

for revenge and is strongest among those who stay at home and can do

nothing. Hatred is a phase of apprehension. Hatred is a product of the

fear that cannot be taken up into the optimistic moods, and thus be

transformed. It remains as a foreign body and an inhibition. It arises

when obstacles appear to be too great, when there are reverses, and

the enemy shows signs of being able to maintain a long and stubborn

resistance, or flaunts again the original cause of the disagreement.

Scheler (77) says that revenge, which is a form of hate, is not a

justifiable war motive. We should say also that it is not a normal war

mood, that it has no sustaining force, but causes a rapid expenditure

of energy which may be effectual in brief actions, but is even there

wasteful and interferes with judgment and efficiency.

Morale based

upon hatred is insecure.

Hatred must have been a very early factor in the relations of groups

to one another, and presumably we should need to go back to animal

life and study antipathies there in order fully to understand the

nature of racial and national antagonisms, some of which may be based

upon physiological traits and primitive æsthetic qualities. The very

fact of the existence of groups, segregated and well bound together

for the purposes of offense and defense implies already a strong

contrast of feeling between that of individuals of the group toward

one another and that directed toward the outsider. This contrast

developed not merely as a reaction, but as a necessity, for groups in

the beginning must have had to contend against their own feeble social

cohesion, and existed only by reason of strong emotions of fear and

anger felt toward the stranger. Hatred toward all outside the group

must at one stage have been highly useful as a means of cementing the

bonds of the group and maintaining the necessary attitude of defense,

at a time when all outsiders were likely to be dangerous. Feelings of

friendliness toward strangers were dangerous to the life of the group,

and so hatred possessed survival value.

The main root of group antipathy is in all probability fear. Hatred is

an aspect of the aggressive defensive toward the stranger. Hatred is a

part of the aggressive reaction. As an expression of ferocity toward

all who are not known to be friendly, it belongs to the first line of

defense. Hatred is likely to be strong in the female because the

attitude of the female is universally defensive.

In the beginning, as MacCurdy (37) says, the contrasts between groups

were sharp, and these definitely separated groups must have felt

toward one another not only antagonism but a sense of being different

in kind. Intensity of feelings of opposition tends to magnify small

differences into specific differences. This sense of specific

difference is never lost, not even in the consciousness of enlightened

nations in regard to one another, and we may see it to-day displayed

as a mystic belief, on the part of many peoples, in their own

superiority. Nations are always outsiders to one another, and the

sense of strangeness perennially sustains defensive attitudes and

moods of hatred. The friendship of nations can never be very secure,

because the old idea of difference of kind is never quite abandoned.

Some degree of enmity seems always to be felt toward the foreigner;

that is, toward all who are not interested in the protective functions

of the group. MacCurdy thinks the intensity of suspicion and hatred of

peoples toward one another belongs to the pathological field, and that

one expression of this is the peculiarity of the mental processes by

which nations always justify their own cause in war.

This, however, is

perhaps an exaggeration, since we can trace these states of mind in

all the history of the race.

How deep-seated the enmities and the sense of strangeness among

nations may be is seen in the fact that national groups living in

close proximity to one another tend to become less friendly rather

than to become affiliated. These feelings gradually produce conceptual

entities, which stand for the reality of the foreign.

These concepts

are deposits, so to speak, from a great number of affective reactions,

and they always contain imaginative content based upon enmity and

suspicion. This underlying enmity between neighboring peoples is not

something rare in the world. All foreigners, even in the minds of the

most intelligent of peoples, are reconstructions, caricatures. These

feelings and attitudes are strong and deep and they preve