Read here

New wars for old, being a statement of radical pacifism in terms of force versus non-resistance, with special reference to the facts and problems of t

Holmes, John Haynes, 1879-1964. · 1916 · Scanned text · Free in the US

97,813 words · about 6 h 51 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
About this edition

Scanned text — may contain errors · view original scans

Free in the US: this text is in the public domain in the United States; it may still be in copyright elsewhere.

Licence: PD · PD-US by publication date

Text from Internet Archive, read from page scans by OCR and set out for reading on screen; no words of the book are rewritten or summarized. How RedLectern is built

About this book

Author
Holmes, John Haynes, 1879-1964.
Language
English
Published
1916
Length
97,813 words · about 6 h 51 min
Sections
17 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States · PD-US by publication date

 

Contents (17)

Continue:

Section i; I, t

BOOKS BY

JOHN HAYNES HOLMES

Marriage and Divorce Is Death the End?

Being a Statement of Radical Pacifism in terms of Force versus Non-Resistance, with special reference to the Facts and Problems of the Great War

OOT n 1^16

BY ^

JOHN HAYNES HOLMES

NEW YORK

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1916

Copyright. 1916

By DODD. MEAD AND COMPANY. INC.

TO

MY DEAR FRIENDS AND HONOURED COLLEAGUES

STEPHEN S. WISE

AND

FRANK OLIVER HALL

The one a Rabbi who perpetuates the prophetic tradition of Israel

The other a Minister who perpetuates the apostolic tradition of Christianity

Both wise teachers and brave exemplars of the religion of Brotherhood

This Book is humbly Dedicated

Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library

I

I

When the Great War burst upon the world in August 1914, it was natural that affrighted and outraged men should regard this disaster as a final demonstration of the failure of Judaism, Christianity, the organised peace propaganda, and international socialism. The tradition of Israel reaches back to a period antedating the advent of Christianity by more than seven centuries ; the gospel of love, associated with the name of Jesus, has been known to humanity for nearly two thousand years ; the peace movement, led by able and distinguished men, backed by abundant resources, weU-organised and persistently aggressive, has had three generations to impress its doctrines upon the modern mind ; and during the last half-century or so, we have seen a massing of the forces of labour, in all countries, under the banner of socialism, which seemed to constitute a sure protection against war. And yet, when the crisis came, no one of these great forces proved of any avail. The tide of conflict swept across Europe, Asia, Africa, and the seven seas as swiftly and terribly as though no bulwarks had ever been raised against it. What wonder that men in their disappointment and fear, declared re-

vil viii

ligion a failure, the peace movement a farce, and socialism an arrant sham !

That this indictment is rightly to be levelled against Jews and Christians, pacifists and socialists, is to my mind undeniable. Never has humanity been called upon to witness a more tragic spectacle than that of the millions of Germans, Austrians, French, Russians, English — all of them pledged in one way or another to the cause of peace — marching away to the battlefront, at the first sound of alarm, not only without protest, but with enthusiasm. There were some Jews and Christians, we may well believe, who revolted inwardly, if not outwardly, against the call to arms ; there were some peace advocates, we know, who were distraught and ashamed ; the attempt of the socialists, before the declarations of war were made, to stay the flood of madness then threatening the race, stands out as one of the few glorious episodes of the dreadful days of July and August, 1914. But that, when the actual moment of dread decision came, these millions of religionists, pacifists, internationalists, abandoned their spiritual professions and clung to patriotism as the one sure passion of their souls, is a sober fact. Everywhere they gave way at the very moment when, if ever, they should have stood fast, and thus failed !

That this failure of individuals, however, involves any failure of the various churches or movements, to which these individuals had pledged allegiance, is, to my mind, the unfairest of charges. Judaism, Christianity, the peace propaganda, socialism, a failure? When, let me ix

ask, has the world ever put into practical effect, in the form of laws and social institutions, the moral principles of Judaism or the spiritual ideals of Christianity? Where is there a government which has heeded even the simplest of the recommendations of the modern peace movement, and placed any genuine pacifist in a position of political responsibility? To what extent has society, in any of its many fields of activity, ordered its relations upon the basis of out-and-out socialism? Christianity, pacifism, socialism — when and where and how have these had any chance? All have been professed, but not one has been practised. Lip-service is the uttermost of reverence which ever has been paid to them. Other forces, of a wholly different character, have controlled the movements and fashioned the organisations of society — and these forces it is which have led us to the horror of the present cataclysm of universal disaster. Monarchical governments, founded upon superstitions of divine right, secret diplomacies which make falsehood a virtue and identify statesmanship with deceit, balances of power determined by immoral rivalries for world empire and dominion, an economic system based upon exploitation of labour at home and consumers abroad, vast armaments of war reared on the specious pretence of maintaining peace, the barbaric idea of force as the safeguard of security —

“The heathen heart that puts its trust In reeking tube and iron shard,

All valiant dust that builds on dust,

And guarding calls not Thee to guard ” —

X these have failed ! But not those great movements of brotherhood, goodwill, co-operation, which have preached their message to ears that would not hear, and knocked for admittance at portals that would not open. This hour marks perhaps the hour of darkest failure in all of human history. But it is the failure not of Christianity but of civilised barbarism, not of Christ but of Cassar, not of love but of blood and iron !

n

And yet it is in this hour of universal ruin, that the gospel of force is being preached with a vigour which has never been known before ! On every side we are being told that, in the world of men as in the world of beasts, there is no security save “ in tooth and claw.” Books and pamphlets are pouring from the presses in an endless flood, to warn us of the perils of “ defenselessness,” by which is meant a reliance upon international goodwill which scorns the mailed fist and the clashing sword, and the need of “ preparation,” by which is meant arming ourselves to the teeth against our neighbours. We have even been called upon to witness, during the last few months, the spectacle of a group of men, gathered self-consciously in Independence Hall, in the brave attempt to organise a movement for the establishment of peace hy force! Obsessed with the idea that the security of the world is threatened by one nation, namely Germany, and that peace can be secured by the destruction of one militaristic machine, namely the German army, we forget that militarism, in

XI its various political and economic aspects, is inwrought in the very fibre of our entire western civilisation, and finds embodiment not merely in one army of one nation, but in all those vast armaments on land and sea which characterise every great power of the modern world. Nay worse — we forget that, in attempting to destroy Germany and to protect ourselves by force against the menace that Germany represents, we are ourselves taking up her weapons, reproducing her system, doing her work. So that humanity actually finds itself face to face with the very excellent probability that German arms, in due course, will be destroyed, but that, by the very process of victory, the German spirit will find itself triumphant in France, England, Russia, America. Kluck, Hindenberg, Mackensen, destroyed — but Nietzsche, Treitschke, Bernhardi, world-conquerors!

It is this situation which makes imperative an unfaltering reaffirmation of the true gospel of peace, which is none other than the gospel of righteousness preached by Isaiah, the gospel of love proclaimed by Jesus, the gospel of goodwill maintained by all the pacifists of the ages, the gospel of democracy and co-operation set forth by socialists everywhere — in one word, the gospel of non-resistance I In the sturm und drang of these terrific days, it is difBcult for any one mind to state this gospel with the poise and power which should characterise its utterance. The very haste made necessary by the threatening aspects of the time, prevents that careful and reverent treatment which the theme rightfully demands. But to get the word spoken xii

with some degree of clearness and persuasion at once, is the challenge of the hour to those who are convinced that “ they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.” My humble and yet passionate desire to do my part in meeting this challenge must be accepted as the explanation of this book. In preparing its pages, I have tried to do something more than produce one more discussion of the issue presented by the Great War. This conflict is, of course, the occasion, and very largely the determining condition, of all that I have tried to say. But my primary purpose has been to penetrate to the very heart of the dilemma suggested by my title, and open up, therefore, from the deepest moral and spiritual viewpoint, the basic questions of peace, security, and the law of life itself. This line of thought has made it necessary for me to discuss, in the course of my main argument, relations between individuals even more than relations between groups of individuals or nations. But the human problem is the same in both cases, and leads therefore to the same conclusion. That my attitude toward the present crisis may be unmistakable, however, and especially that my thesis may receive the startling illumination provided by the European conflagration, I have interpersed my discussion throughout with references to the Great War; and in my concluding chapters have considered such immediate questions as “Is War Ever Justifiable?” “ Is Permanent and Universal Peace to be Desired? ” and “ The Duty and Opportunity of America To-day.”

xui in

It is important, if the argument presented in this book is to be read with sympathy, or even understood, that certain facts should be particularly noted in this place.

(1) First of all, let me give due warning against the unfortunate suggestions contained in the word, non-resistance. I have adopted this word, as the motif of my argument, so to speak, with the greatest reluctance, and only because, in spite of diligent search, I have been able to find no word in our English language which was not even more inadequate and inaccurate than this very misleading term. Let me state at once, however, and with all possible emphasis, that, in using the word, non-resistance, I accept none of those unfortunate and immoral implications of acquiescence, cowardice, feebleness, which the word seems inevitably to suggest. Non-resistance, as I have set forth at great length in my chapters on “ What Non-Resistance Means ” and “ Exemplars of Non-Resistance,” means to me an essentially positive and indeed aggressive state of mind and attitude. The true non-resistant is militant — but he lifts his militancy from the plane of physical, to the plane of moral and spiritual force. This point I regard as so important to a true understanding of my argument, that I am almost tempted to advise that Chapters IV, V, and VI be read before any of the rest of the book is approached. This much at least I will venture to ask — that no reader reject the book until these chapters have been perused.

XIV

(2) Secondly, I would point out that ray argument is, from beginning to end, almost wholly one of expediency. I have thus couched my lance, if I may so express it, not because I am indifferent to the idealism involved in my plea. On the contrary, I believe that the law of love should be obeyed even though it lead always to death, as it did in the case of Jesus. I take it for granted, however, that this idealistic part of my argument needs no advocacy. Everybody agrees thaL the counsel of the spirit is right, but the question remains, Will it work? Men balk because they are certain that this gospel will not stand the pragmatic test. Just here, in this matter of workableness, is the “ rub ” ; and just here, therefore, have I focussed my discussion. From this point of view, my thesis may be said to stand or fall, according as the arguments in Chapters III and VII prove convincing or unconvincing.

(3) Lastly, I would point out that I have made no attempt to discuss the economic aspects of the problem of war. As a member of the Society for Eliminating the Economic Causes of War, and as one who is predominantly socialistic in his thought, I am convinced that war can never be abolished until the capitalistic system of domestic and foreign competitive exploitation is first abolished. But as a student of human history and of human nature, I am also convinced that war can never be abolished, even under a socialistic regime, until mankind is fronted right morally. These two questions are of equal importance. They can be discussed separately or together. For my purpose in this

XV book, I have chosen to separate them, and have deliberately chosen the latter for my discussion. Economic students, more competent than I, have discussed, and will continue to discuss, the former.

IV

The material in this book has been used many times during the past year, in sermons and addresses. Three of the chapters — namely, the eighth, ninth, and tenth — have previously appeared as separate pamphlets, but have here been corrected, revised, and amplified. The sections in Chapter V on Isaiah and Jesus have been published as separate essays in “ The Christian Register ” and “ The North American Review ” respectively. The rest of the volume is published here for the first time.

In closing, I beg to make acknowledgment of the services of my Secretary, Miss Mary C. Baker, whose patience, fidelity, and efficiency have been indispensable in the writing of this book.

John Haynes Holmes

Church of the Messiah,

New York City,

November 1, 1915.

Table Of Contents

PAGE

Preface vii

CHAPTER

Introduction

“The modern prophet, employing the methods of science, may again proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is at hand. . . . And what is this message of the modern prophet but pure Christianity? — not the mass of theological doctrine ingeniously piled up by Athanasius and Augustine, but the real and essential Christianity which came from the very lips of Jesus, ‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’ In the cruel strife of centuries has it not often seemed as if the earth were to be rather the prize of the hardest heart and the strongest fist? To many men these words of Christ have been as foolishness and as a stumbling-block, and the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount have been openly derided as too good for this world. . . . The Master knew full well that the time was not yet ripe. . . . But he preached nevertheless that gospel which is by and by to be realised by toiling Humanity, and he announced ethical principles lit for the time that is coming. The great originality of his teaching, and the feature that has chiefly given it power in the world, lay in the distinctness with which he conceived a state of society from which every vestige of strife, and the modes of behaviour adapted to ages of strife, shall be utterly and forever swept away. . . . The future is lighted for us with the radiant colours of hope. . . . Strife and sorrow shall disappear. Peace and love shall reign supreme.” — John Fiske, in The Destiny of Man.

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION A STATEMENT OF THE PEOBEEM

I

That the present age constitutes the most fateful period of time “ the world has seen since the records of mankind began to be kept,” was asserted by a competent student of public affairs as long ago as August, 1914. To many of us this assertion seemed exaggerated, even though the week which saw Germany’s declaration of war against Russia, France’s declaration of war against Germany, and at last, after days of heartbreaking suspense, England’s launching of great ships into the storm of conflict, was the most thrilling and terrible that we had ever experienced. As the dreadful struggle has gone on, however, from month to month, dragging in nation after nation, extending to every one of the six continents and seven seas of the globe, and piling up such a toll of shattered cities, wasted fields, exhausted wealth, pain, death, misery, as baffles computation, it has become evident enough that humanity has never in all its history beheld such a spectacle or faced such a crisis. There have been universal wars before this. The decline and fall of the Roman Empire in the fourth and fifth centuries, the great struggles for imperial dominion in the Middle Ages, the campaigns of

Napoleon in the twenty years following the Revolution — all these were cataclysms which engulfed mankind in ruin and despair. But no one of them is in any way comparable to our own War of the Nations. Never before have so many highly organised peoples been involved in life-and-death struggle — never before have whole nations been martialled in arms for combat — never before have the lines of battle been so extended, and the number of soldiers engaged so prodigious — never before have such mighty weapons been at the disposal of contending armies — never before have such stupendous forces been let loose upon the world. Already there has been a refinement of efl^ciency, a thoroughness of destruction, a ruthlessness of attack, a frightfulness of slaughter which has staggered the race. And we are as yet only in the early stages of a combat which must witness prodigies of horror, hitherto unimaglned as well as unknown, before the end of the ghastly business is reached ! What this end will be, no man at the present moment can dare even so much as to surmise. That it will involve the fall of dynasties, the exhaustion of nations, the wastage of vast stretches of territory, the indefinite enslavement of future generations to debts of incalculable proportions, the permanent reversion of great peoples in wealth, activity, ambition, physical strength, moral standards, is reasonably certain. That it will mean the tumbling of our entire economic system, the extinction of whole areas of modern civilisation, the return of Europe to the condition of Germany in the years following the Thirty Years’ War, when bands of brigands roved unmolested through silent wastes once crowded with fair cities and waving fields, even the sweeping destruction of the modern world by the terrific power of the engines of its own creation, as Mr. H. G. Wells has not hesitated to suggest, seems not impossible. For the first time since the pyramids were builded in the Egyptian deserts, men find themselves living in an age, and looking upon a situation, wherein the forces of human life have passed beyond the control of those who have madly created them and as madly set them free! For the first time, perhaps, in history, anything may happen !

n

Not yet, however, in speaking of battles and campaigns, wasted wealth and slaughtered men, have we reached the heart of the situation which constitutes this war the supreme crisis of the ages. Nor can this be done by considering such isolated and comparatively unimportant matters as the various military, political and industrial phases of the struggle. In order to see and understand in all its seriousness the exact nature of the present crisis, we must pass beyond the particular aspects of the phenomenon and come to the phenomenon itself — or rather we must gather together all these different aspects into a single synthesis, and thus discover what is the single great problem which is involved. And this process will hardly be begun, before it will become evident that the present problem in its essence 1 See his Social Forces in England and America, page 383.

is none other than that most fundamental of all problems — the nature of human existence, the law of human life, the rule of human conduct.

For generations, indeed centuries, in the past, man has been moving forward slowly but surely to the great goal of a permanent civilisation, based upon the ideas of reason, righteousness, and good will. Again and again has progress toward this end been halted by accident, retarded by fear, turned aside or thrown bach by ignorance, stupidity, and sin. Sooner or later, however, the pathway has been rediscovered, the momentum of advance resumed, and the line of progress therefore continued. Especially in recent times has this progress, to all appearances at least, been rapid and permanent. The mind of the world in the opening years of the twentieth century was most emphatically an optimistic mind. It beheld serious obstacles being overcome, knotty problems being solved, remote ideals being realised. It seemed to see humanity, after centuries of wandering in the wilderness, now nearing the borders of the promised land. Long a barbarian, man had spoken as a barbarian, thought as a barbarian, understood as a barbarian ; but now, if the signs were valid, man was becoming civilised, and lo, with his attainment to civilisation, he was resolutely putting away barbarous things.

Even in what had long seemed to be the most discouraging of all fields — that of international and interracial relationships — was sure progress apparently being made at this time. To an almost astonishing degree were the long-sought ideas of reason, righteousness and goodwill taking form in definite institutions of order and fraternity. Two Hague Conferences had consummated the great achievement of assembling “ all the world in one room,” as Dr. Frederick Lynch has vividly expressed it.^ The Hague Court had been successfully established as a kind of supreme court among the nations. Numerous treaties of arbitration between great states had been signed, thus blazing a pathway through the tangled wilderness of barbarism to “ the pleasant places ” of understanding, sympathy and co-operation. International societies of every possible description had been organised, and were year by year bringing into ever closer personal communication and fellowship the best minds of every country. Great international movements, such as socialism, woman suffrage, universal religion, and the peace propaganda itself, were more and more tending to obliterate the artificial boundaries of nations, and thus to unite people upon a basis not of geographical accident, but of those sublime interests of human good which from their very nature transcend all distinctions of language, creed, nationality and race. In spite of blind and selfish statesmanship, which stiU remained faithful to ancient precedent in fostering national pride, in serving so-called national interests in various quarters of the world, in organising immoral alliances and ententes and balances of power which had no higher object than that of placing one group of nations in unfriendly array

1 See his The Peace Problem, page 15.

against another, and especially in building stupendous armaments on the specious plea that such preparations for war are the only guarantee of peace — in spite of these facts, most forward-looking persons had come to believe that, so numerous and powerful were the forces making for peace, the old perpetual menace of international conflict had at last passed by forever. For the first time in the history of the world, it seemed as though we were beginning to realise outwardly the inward truth of St. Paul’s great dictum — “ God hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell together on the face of the earth.” For the first time, it seemed as though Jesus’s definition of love as the law of life were going to be vindicated.

And then, in the space of a single night, as it were, came the crash of ruin ! Without warning of any kind, the whole fair structure of our hopes and dreams came tumbling to the ground. Confident that we were at last civilised, we awakened, as in the clutch of an earthquake, to discover that we were still barbarians. Believing that, after two thousand years of effort, Christianity was at last imposing its divine law of brotherhood upon the human heart, we were made to behold that we were still, like any tiger of the jungle, “ red in tooth and claw with ravin.” Trusting in the conserving influences of education, industry, religion, and the modern movements of international association, we found ourselves hurled back into the early horror of sheer brute struggle for survival. In an instant, the realm of dreams was gone, and we were face to face with the hard, cold, bitter facts of a world which we thought had been conquered and subdued. In one fell moment, hope was shattered, faith destroyed, courage lost. A hundred ancient doubts rose up to plague us. A thousand primitive questions challenged us anew. The original and basic problems of life, solved as we had thought forever, were again before us for consideration. It was as though unnumbered aeons of time were instantaneously wiped out, and we were back in the days of primeval chaos when “ the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep,” with no hope but that of a new day of creation, in some far distant time, when “ the spirit of God (would once again) move upon the face of the waters,” light be again divided from darkness, and the dry ground of unfolding life again appear from out the waters of desolation.

ni

Just here, now, in this reversion to first moral principles— in this sudden conjuring up, in more terrible form than ever before, of problems which we thought had been laid once for all — do we find the supreme crisis, and tragedy as well, of this present hour. In essence, these problems present but a single issue. Is the flesh supreme, or may we still place reliance upon the spirit ? Must we put our trust in “ chariots because they are many and horsemen because they are strong,” or may we still, with Isaiah, have confidence in God alone ? Is Bernhardi’s doctrine, that “ feebleness is the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost ” established, or may we still believe, with Jesus, that “the meek shall inherit the earth”? In form, however, these problems are as various as the various relationships and activities of men. Three at least are of prime importance to us at this moment in our discussion of the general question of pacifism.

First of all, there is the perennial problem of the establishment of international peace. The idea of a permanent condition of concord among the different peoples of the earth, is as old certainly as the annals of recorded history, and may safely be thought to be as old, perhaps, as humankind itself. It appears in the teachings of Confucius and Lao-Tse, which are among the most ancient which have been preserved to the modern world. It flames in lines of fire from the writings of Isaiah and the sayings of Buddha. It adorns the pages of Thucydides as he tells the tale of ancient Greece, and of Livy as he recounts the similar narrative of Rome. It is the inspiration of many of the noblest passages in the Annals of Tacitus and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. It constitutes the warp and woof of the fabric of Jesus’s gospel; and marks predominantly the teaching and practice of all the early Christians from St. Paul to the last of the line of the so-called Church Fathers. It glorifies the Middle Ages in such a phenomenon as the Truce of God, and in such a person as the sainted Francis of Assisi. It is a vital part of the Reformation, as witness the steadfast testimony of Erasmus, the early and as yet uncorrupted doctrines of Luther and Calvin, and especially the radiant visions of George Fox. Taught in the seventeenth century in the name of a revealed religion, in the eighteenth century in the name of an abstract humanity, in the nineteenth century in the name of a very practical science, industry and commerce, this idea of peace had become in our time the predominant ideal of the hour.

It is interesting, as well as pathetic, to recall, in this moment of dissolutionment, the extent to which this ideal of international harmony and goodwill had seized upon the imagination of the modern world. Only a few months ago, and everybody was cherishing the hope that this vision of peace, which had so long been so far removed upon the horizon of the future, was at last in process of actual realisation. Militarists, with a few exceptions like Lord Roberts, were pointing to the great armaments of modern times and declaring that such preparations for war were the surest guarantee of peace. Scientists like the great Russian, Bloch, were telling us that the armaments, with which all the great nations of the world were so amply provided, had been developed to a degree of such terrible efficiency, that warfare between contending forces on land and sea had been made to all intents and purposes impossible. Economists like Norman Angell, were showing us, in terms of trade, investments and finance generally, that war in our age was as ruinous, to the victor as to the vanquished and was therefore already become an anachronism to which kings and premiers could no longer make resort. Jurists and statesmen of all countries were rejoicing in the Hague Conferences, willingly referring matters of dispute to the Hague Court, and competing with one another in the signing of treaties of arbitration. Scholars were taking comfort in the great international societies of learning, workingmen in the international labour movement, Christians in the growing international consciousness and co-operation of the churches of many lands, peace lovers everywhere in the sweeping progress of the organised peace propaganda. All the forces of the time — military, political, commercial, educational, industrial, religious — seemed to be moving straight toward the fulfilment of the long-cherished dream of the prophets and seers. The will to peace was already at hand — the way was very rapidly being found. Then, as we have seen, came the war which, from the first day of hostilities, was fought on a scale and with a fury never known before. And instantly the problem of peace was reduced to its simplest terms, as though we were living once again in the days of Cain. Is there any such thing as peace? Is not man a fighting animal and war therefore a permanent contingency of man’s existence? Did not Frederick the Great state the final truth of the matter when he said, in one of his numerous letters to his friend, Voltaire, “ I study the pages of history, and see that wars have always broken out at a period of every ten years. I believe that there will be some abating of this fever of conflict, but I also believe that this conflict will never cease.”

The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.

Loading the full text…