That war and religion have always been closely associated with one
another is one of the outstanding facts of history. This is true both
of primitive warfare and of warfare to-day. Yet we cannot say that
religion as such has been a cause of war. Religious wars are almost
invariably also political wars, and as soon as religion and politics
are separated, religion no longer appears to be a war motive. When
religion becomes associated with worldly ideas which it supports and
makes dynamic it may become a strong factor in the spirit of war, but
as a means of segregating men, and giving them unity of action
religion can no longer be regarded as a power, if it ever was. Any
motive that will not so segregate men and break up all other bonds
cannot be said to be a very fertile cause of war.
Religion as a cause
of war belongs to a day in which the spirit of nationalism was weak,
and when religious empire had a visible and political position in the
world. Nationalism, growing stronger, became the supreme force
dominating the motives and interests of men and governing the
formation of groups, or at least the actions of groups as interrelated
units. In the recent war we have seen how the sense of national unity
has been able to hold in check all other motives.
Neither religion nor
any class or clan or guild interests could trace the faintest line of
cleavage so long as the motive of war remained.
The mood of war always contains a religious element. Not only is this
shown in primitive wars, where the relations of religion, war and art
are indicated in such phenomena as the war dance, which is of the
nature of a magic weapon, but we see it also in the complex moods of
the present war spirit of the world. The idea and mood of valor have a
religious significance. Cramb says that we can trace in Germany before
the war, showing through the transient mists of industrialism and
socialism, the vision of the religion of valor which runs through all
German history. The craving for a valorous life, for reality, the
desire to lose one's own individuality--these moods of war are
religious or mystic whatever else they may be or contain. The
inseparable relation of war and death necessarily inspires a religious
consciousness. Without exalted moods which in some way contain
religious faith--faith on the part of the individual in the eternal
values which he represents and in his own security in the hands of
fate, and in the immortality of the country which he serves, war could
not exist.
The mood of war always contains a religious sanction, and every
important religion sanctions war. This explicit relation between
religion and war is seen very early. Wherever there is ghost worship,
and the warriors justify war and fortify themselves for it by
believing that their ancestors still participate in the combats of
their children, and that in waging war they are doing a duty in
keeping up the traditional feuds of their race there is found the root
of the relation between war and religion. Every war is a holy war; it
is but a change in degree from these primitive wars in which the ideas
of ghosts must have had almost the clearness of reality to our modern
wars with their deeper but more indefinite religious sanctions. Since
war always creates the need of moral justification, the war mood at
all times tends to seek religious sanctions.
Christianity, the
doctrine of peace and good will, very readily lends its support to
war, since wars are almost invariably regarded as defensive by all who
participate in them. War in the service of the weak and endangered
can always invoke the spirit of Christianity. The logical ground for
this has been laid for us by many writers; Drawbridge (19), one of the
most recent, finds no support in Christianity for the doctrines of
pacifism. All nations, when they fight, fight for God, for liberty and
the right, with the implied belief that their own country has a
mission in the world, supported by divine authority.
All governments have in them a strain of theocracy. We see this in
many degrees and forms, from the original totemistic belief in descent
from animals that are also gods to the vaguest remnants of the habit
of interpreting national interests as guarded by divine powers that we
often see in the language of practical statesmen. The doctrine of the
divine rights of kings of course had its origin in that of divine
descent. The most striking revelation of the place such theories may
have, even in modern times and in enlightened nations, is to be seen
in the revival and deliberate use of the doctrine of divine descent as
a fundamental principle of the government and theory of State in the
New Japan. All nations hold something of this philosophy; God and
State are always related and all wars, whatever else they may be, are
waged in the service of religion and with the sanction of it. This
spirit is not wanting even in the most modern democracy.
The
historians of Germany have shown us to what an extent the theory of
the divinity of state and its divine mission may be intermingled with
practical politics and have helped to bring to light the psychology of
this movement in history.
Several writers, but especially Le Bon (42), have written about the
relation of mysticism to war. Le Bon said indeed that the main causes
of war, including the most recent one, are mystical causes. By
mysticism he means unconscious factors which are religious in quality
and which contain a race ideal which is both powerful and irrational.
German mysticism appears to have attracted much attention during the
years of the war. Germany has presented the picture, we are told, of
a people becoming dangerous by couching national ambition and honor in
terms of religion. This mysticism of the German contains a powerful
belief in race superiority, and in the supremacy of the culture of
their own nation, beliefs which have the clear marks of mysticism
about them. The traces of the theory of divine origin still cling to
them. Boutroux (13) says the Prussian State is a synthesis of the
divine and the human. Another writer observes that the Germans believe
in the altogether unique and quasi-divine excellence of the German
race, and of Germanism, and that the Germans have a new religion which
they believe in spreading by the sword. Some see in Germany a serious
demand for the revival of the religion of Odin and Thor, the religion
of conflict of primeval forces, and of the triumph of might. Literary
expressions of this religion are certainly to be found, and it may
fairly be maintained that Germany has never become Christianized to
the extent that most modern nations have.
That mysticism has been a large factor in the war spirit of the
Germans in the late war can hardly be doubted, or at least that a
religious element of some kind has played a great part in it. The war
began as Germany's holy war. A cult of State and of self-worship are
involved in it. If not, innumerable expressions of Germany's cause
among German writers are simply literary exaggerations.
The Germans
have believed that they are God's chosen people, that they represent
God, and since the German civilization grew up in antagonism to the
Graeco-Roman civilization, God must have adopted the one and discarded
the other. One German writer says that we must eliminate from our
belief the last drop of faith in the idea of a progressive movement of
humanity as a whole. Reality is represented in one nation at a time,
and the chosen nation is the leader of all the rest.
While such mysticism as this (if it be mysticism) is most conspicuous
in aristocratic and imperialistic nations, we find it elsewhere. It is
a powerful force in imperialistic Japan and in Russia.
We find it
everywhere in history in some form. In France it is still the "saintly
figure" of France that inspires the soldier and induces a religious
mood. There is no longer a vision of an empire of the future, perhaps,
and this mysticism of France has not in recent history shown itself in
the form of aggression, but French mysticism clings to the ideal and
the hope of a glorious future for a deathless France soon to be
renewed. All peoples that have declined or suffered an adverse fate,
even the pathetic remnants of the American Indians, expect the return
of their lost power. Such mysticism is, we may think, the only
condition under which national life in many cases can continue. The
religious or the mystical mood of nations is created by the need of
making belief dynamic, of overcoming doubts and fears.
Hence the
exaggerated and irrational claims peoples make in regard to the value
of their culture and about their mission on earth. By their mysticism
nations justify their aggressive wars and fortify themselves in their
defensive wars. Thus nations acquire a feeling of security. They
believe in their star of destiny. They feel that their life which is
of supreme value to the world cannot perish. It is this spirit that
nations take with them into battle. It is a mystic force, and this
mystic force is, in great part, we may believe, one of the by-products
of the tragedy of history. Faith and hope have one of their roots at
least in fear and pessimism.
_Moral Motives and War_
That the attitude of nations toward one another is not, generally
speaking, an ethical attitude and that moral principles do not
motivate the conduct of peoples we have already suggested. Sumner (70)
says that the whole history of mankind is a series of acts open to
doubt, dispute and criticism as to their right and justice.
Differences end in force, and the defeated side always protests that
the results are unjust. And yet wars are always conducted with moral
justification and in the belief that moral principles are involved.
These moral principles, however, are not the points of difference upon
which the beginning of wars depends. Nations never go to war for
purely moral reasons. Moral feeling may coincide with the interests of
state, and a defensive war may of course be conducted in the spirit of
deep moral right and duty, but plainly it is never the sense of right
and duty alone that is the motive of defense. Perhaps after all this
question of the moral element in the causes of war is a futile one,
and leads to casuistry. There are always political and other practical
questions involved, whenever strain occurs between nations, so that
wholly moral issues can never arise.
If wars are not moral in the making they are always justified morally,
whatever the motives may have been that caused them.
Without this
moral sanction it is doubtful whether wars could be conducted at all,
although this moral sanction may be based upon very superficial
grounds. The higher patriotic feeling runs, says Veblen (97), the
thinner may be the moral sanction that satisfies the public
conscience. On the other hand moral sentiment may often be strong and
deep in the minds of the masses of people in a nation, and the public
feeling of obligation to enter a war may be strong, but in general
such moral feeling does not lead to war. Righteous indignation lacks
initiative. Honor as moral obligation requires the aid of honor as
national pride and dignity. The relations among allies may at first
thought seem to be moral relations, but when we observe closely we see
that usually nations go to war together because their common interests
are endangered. When their common interests are not involved they
usually break treaties and so do not stay together.
Actions directed
offensively against one member of a coalition are usually directed
against the others, so that in most cases the allies of a nation have
no choice, but must defend themselves.
The relative importance of moral principles in the motives of war may
be observed by comparing the motives assigned by the nations that
participated in the late war with the motives which a study of the
history and political situations of these countries reveals. There are
wide disparities between these historical causes and the assigned
causes. These need not, however, lead us to take a cynical view of
history as many sociologists and students of politics do. We have as
yet no organized world in which moral principle can operate. The
world, we might say, is still infantile or immature. The world is
still unmoral. We cannot say that nationalism as the principle of the
conduct of nations is a wholly selfish principle as contrasted with a
moral or altruistic motive, since such an analogy with individual
morality fails to take into account the complex nature of nationalism,
and overlooks the social qualities of patriotism.
England's purpose in entering the war has been freely discussed in
England. The popular impression is that England declared war upon
Germany in order to defend Belgium and to keep her treaty obligations.
If we consider conduct in a certain abstraction from the practical
setting in which it is performed such a conclusion can be drawn. There
was a moral stirring in England, and several writers have commented
upon the fact that England subverted her own conscious purposes by her
unconscious and instinctive morality. There was a strong feeling
against war, even a widespread moral sense that England had become too
civilized to wage war. There was a shrinking from the economic
hardships that war would entail. Against these strong tendencies there
prevailed, at least in popular sentiment, a profound feeling that in
some way Germany's civilization was incompatible with England's, and
this feeling was in part of the nature of moral aversion. Dillion
(55), at least, sees a profound ethical motive in Italy in the late
war. After a pro-German party had won out in favor of war, he says, a
_deus ex machina_ in the shape of an indignant nation descended upon
the scene. But after making allowance for all moral feeling and the
unusual and dramatic manner in which moral issues, to a greater degree
than ever before in modern history, were brought to the front, we must
admit that the political and diplomatic interests and manners of
nations have taken their usual course in the war.
Nations have been
governed by the motives that have always dominated the relations of
groups to one another.
Germany presents the most glaring example of the contrast between
public opinion and expressed motives and political facts. Such
expressions as these: that Germany's ideal is one that does violence
to no one; that humanity and all human blessings stand under the
protection of German arms; that, where the German spirit obtains
supremacy, there freedom reigns; that in regard to England's downfall,
there can be but one opinion--it is the very highest mission of German
culture; that Germany's war is a holy war--such expressions as these,
which are psychologically explicable without questioning their
sincerity, seem out of harmony, to say the least, with what we know of
Germany's political aspirations. Germany's desire for England's
downfall does not appear to us to be based upon a moral motive;
Germany's war seems far from being a holy war, and it is hard to see
in it a means of spreading culture abroad in the world.
We cannot give
any place in the causes of this war to a moral desire to make the
world better. However much Germany may have been convinced that
Germany was destined to be a civilizing force in the world, the moral
obligation thus aroused, we may be sure, did not become the real
motive of the war.
The moral justifications of war are very numerous, and that this
belief in war has some effect upon the spirit of war and helps to
perpetuate it, and is not a mere reflection of the warlike spirit
itself, may of course be admitted. Many believe that war accomplishes
work in the world; war is a great organizing force.
There is also a
view that war is good as a moral stimulant, or as a creative moral
force. War is often regarded as the means of moral revival of a people
that has become sordid and dull. Schmitz (29) says that war gives
reality to a country. War strengthens national character, some think.
It purges nations. In war people grow hard but pure.
Irwin (25) says
that such war philosophy as this is to be heard broadly in Europe,
chiefly in Germany, but also in France and in England.
Mach (95) says
that disintegration takes place in times of peace.
Schoonmaker says
that war has taught men socialization. Again we hear that wars are
just and right because they are necessary. Redier (30) says that war
is a way of giving back courage to the men of our times.
This praise
of war which comes from the depths of feelings, we must suppose helps
to give continuity and force to these feelings.
_Institutional Factors_
If the spirit of war is to any extent educable, and is created in
national life and is not merely something instinctive, it is
presumably modified in one way and another by all those institutions
that are educational in their effect. Perhaps one of the most pressing
problems of education in the near future will be that of the relation
of education to war. We shall need to know what the school has done to
cause wars, what changes should be made in the future with reference
to this influence of education upon the fundamental motives of
national life. The schoolmaster has been indicted among other
instigators of war. We must see how much truth there is in this
allegation. We must understand also how the whole educational
process, as we may see it now after the war, may be made if possible
to become a greater factor in life than it has been in the past, if it
is at all an important element in the development and the control of
the psychic powers of nations.
Schmitz (29) says that the eighteenth century and the French
Revolution were dominated by the phrase, the nineteenth by money, and
that there was a danger that the twentieth century would be dominated
by the schoolmaster and by the concept, but that this danger is past
because life has become so full of realities. Russell says, we know,
that men fight because they have been governed in their beliefs and in
their conduct by authority. If this be true the authority exercised
upon the mind of the child by all his teachers may be suspected of
having been in one way or another an influence in creating the moral
attitudes that prevail in regard to war and peace. We have heard the
question raised as to whether in the past the teaching of history as
the story of wars, and the presentation of the facts of history from
the nationalistic point of view, have not been morally wrong.
German schools, and the method of public education the sinister
effects of which we have abundantly felt--that is, the propaganda,
show us educational phenomena that are psychologically of great
interest and which are also unique from the educational point of view.
The influence of schools seems in general so negative, and there is so
little connection between what is learned as fact and conduct in the
practical life that, even in the case of the German teaching of war
philosophy we must suspect that this teaching has been successful only
because it has gone with the strong tide of feeling in the popular
mind. That the German schools have directly and indirectly fostered
the development of ideas that lead in the direction of war there is no
doubt. Even more influential than the specific ideas that have been
implanted, is the spirit of these schools: it is their militaristic
and routine life, the great authority assumed by the teacher, the
specialization, that has helped to nourish the warlike spirit of
Germany, quite as much as the fact, for example, that Daniel's
Geography teaches that Germany is the heart of Europe, surrounded by
countries that were once a part of Germany and will be again.
German education, we say, seems to be unique in the extent to which it
influences public sentiment and national conduct. In general,
education has appeared among the influences that lead to war rather by
default of positive teaching than by anything positive it has done.
Even in Germany, we should say, the spirit of war has been made to
flourish less by the teaching of a narrow nationalism, by inculcating
hatred, and implanting wrong conceptions of German history than by
failing to provide youth with means of deep satisfaction, by failing
to coordinate deep desires of the individual, and to organize
individuals in a normal social life. This is true everywhere.
Education has not affected life as a whole, and it has not thus far
been an influence which, to any appreciable extent, has accelerated
the development of peoples in their especially national aspects and
relations. It has nowhere fostered any conception of the whole world
as an object of social feeling. It has everywhere accepted a certain
provincialism as natural and necessary, and has tacitly assumed that
national boundaries are the horizon of the practical life of the
child. The school has in fact failed to take advantage of its
unmatched opportunity to use the imagination of the child to develop
his social powers. Sociologists say that if sociologists had been more
diligent in spreading abroad information about the social life, the
great war would perhaps never have happened. That we may certainly
doubt; something more profound must be done by education than to
disseminate knowledge, if it would undertake to be a power in the
world and to do anything more than add its influence to the tendencies
of the day, or perhaps temporarily change the direction of these
tendencies.