Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Essay
misfortune. Cf. Kehrbach’s preface to Kant’s essay, _Zum Ewigen
Frieden_, p. XVII.
[82] See his discussion on constitutional monarchy in Germany.
(_Hist. u. Pol. Aufsätze_, Bd. III., p. 533 _seq._)
[83] See _Die Piccolomini_: Act. I. Sc. 4.
_War under Altered Conditions._
The Peace Societies of our century, untiring supporters of a point of
view diametrically opposite to that of Hegel, owe their existence
in the first place to new ideas on the subject of the relative
advantages and disadvantages of war, which again were partly due to
changes in the character of war itself, partly to a new theory that
the warfare of the future should be a war of free competition for
industrial interests, or, in Herbert Spencer’s language, that the
warlike type of mankind should make room for an industrial type.
This theory, amounting in the minds of some thinkers to a fervid
conviction, and itself, in a sense, the source of what has been
contemptuously styled our British “shopkeeper’s policy” in Europe,
was based on something more solid than mere enthusiasm. The years of
peace which followed the downfall of Napoleon had brought immense
increase in material wealth to countries like France and Britain.
Something of the glamour had fallen away from the sword of the great
Emperor. The illusive excitement of a desire for conquest had died:
the glory of war had faded with it, but the burden still remained:
its cost was still there, something to be calmly reckoned up and not
soon to be forgotten. Europe was seen to be actually moving towards
ruin. “We shall have to get rid of war in all civilised countries,”
said Louis Philippe in 1843. “Soon no nation will be able to afford
it.” War was not only becoming more costly. New conditions had
altered it in other directions. With the development of technical
science and its application to the perfecting of methods and
instruments of destruction every new war was found to be bloodier
than the last; and the day seemed to be in sight, when this very
development would make war (with instruments of extermination)
impossible altogether. The romance and picturesqueness with which
it was invested in the days of hand-to-hand combat was gone. But,
above all, war was now waged for questions fewer and more important
than in the time of Kant. Napoleon’s successful appeal to the masses
had suggested to Prussia the idea of consciously nationalising the
army. Our modern national wars exact a sacrifice, necessarily much
more heavy, much more reluctantly made than those of the past which
were fought with mercenary troops. Such wars have not only greater
dignity: they are more earnest, and their issue, as in a sense the
issue of conflict between higher and lower types of civilisation, is
speedier and more decisive.
In the hundred years since Kant’s death, much that he prophesied
has come to pass, although sometimes by different paths than he
anticipated. The strides made in recent years by commerce and the
growing power of the people in every state have had much of the
influence which he foretold. There is a greater reluctance to wage
war.[84] But, unfortunately, as Professor Paulsen points out, the
progress of democracy and the nationalisation of war have not worked
merely in the direction of progress towards peace. War has now become
popular for the first time. “The progress of democracy in states,”
he says, (_Kant_, p. 364[85]) “has not only not done away with war,
but has very greatly changed the feeling of people towards it. With
the universal military service, introduced by the Revolution, war
has become the people’s affair and popular, as it could not be in
the case of dynastic wars carried on with mercenary troops.” In the
people the love of peace is strong, but so too is the love of a
fight, the love of victory.
[84] An admirable short account of popular feeling on this matter
is to be found in Lawrence’s _Principles of International Law_, §
240.
[85] The first Peace Society was founded in London in 1816, and
the first International Peace Congress held in 1843.
It is in the contemplation of facts and conflicting tendencies like
these that Peace Societies[86] have been formed. The peace party is,
we may say, an eclectic body: it embraces many different sections
of political opinion. There are those who hold, for instance, that
peace is to be established on a basis of communism of property.
There are others who insist on the establishment throughout Europe
of a republican form of government, or again, on a redistribution
of European territory in which Alsace-Lorraine is restored to
France—changes of which at least the last two would be difficult to
carry out, unless through international warfare. But these are not
the fundamental general principles of peace workers. The members
of this party agree in rejecting the principle of intervention, in
demanding a complete or partial disarmament of the nations of Europe,
and in requiring that all disputes between nations—and they admit the
prospects of dispute—should be settled by means of arbitration. In
how far are these principles useful or practicable?
[86] In Eng. trans. see p. 358.
_The Value of Arbitration._
There is a strong feeling in favour of arbitration on the part of all
classes of society. It is cheaper under all circumstances than war.
It is a judgment at once more certain and more complete, excluding
as far as possible the element of chance, leaving irritation perhaps
behind it, but none of the lasting bitterness which is the legacy
of every war. Arbitration has an important place in all peace
projects except that of Kant, whose federal union would naturally
fulfil the function of a tribunal of arbitration. St. Pierre,
Jeremy Bentham,[87] Bluntschli[88] the German publicist, Professor
Lorimer[89] and others among political writers,[90] and among rulers,
Louis Napoleon and the Emperor Alexander I. of Russia, have all made
proposals more or less ineffectual for the peaceful settlement of
international disputes. A number of cases have already been decided
by this means. But let us examine the questions which have been
at issue. Of a hundred and thirty matters of dispute settled by
arbitration since 1815 (cf. _International Tribunals_, published
by the Peace Society, 1899) it will be seen that all, with the
exception of one or two trifling cases of doubt as to the succession
to certain titles or principalities, can be classified roughly
under two heads—disputes as to the determination of boundaries or
the possession of certain territory, and questions of claims for
compensation and indemnities due either to individuals or states,
arising from the seizure of fleets or merchant vessels, the insult
or injury to private persons and so on—briefly, questions of money
or of territory. These may fairly be said to be trifling causes,
not touching national honour or great political questions. That they
should have been settled in this way, however, shows a great advance.
Smaller causes than these have made some of the bloodiest wars in
history. That arbitration should have been the means of preventing
even one war which would otherwise have been waged is a strong reason
why we should fully examine its claims. “Quand l’institution d’une
haute cour,” writes Laveleye, (_Des causes actuelles de guerre en
Europe et de l’arbitrage_) “n’éviterait qu’une guerre sur vingt,
il vaudrait encore la peine de l’établir.” But history shows us
that there is no single instance of a supreme conflict having been
settled otherwise than by war. Arbitration is a method admirably
adapted to certain cases: to those we have named, where it has been
successfully applied, to the interpretation of contracts, to offences
against the Law of Nations—some writers say to trivial questions of
honour—in all cases where the use of armed force would be impossible,
as, for instance, in any quarrel in which neutralised countries[91]
like Belgium or Luxembourg should take a principal part, or in a
difference between two nations, such as (to take an extreme case)
the United States and Switzerland, which could not easily engage in
actual combat. These cases, which we cannot too carefully examine,
show that what is here essential is that it should be possible to
formulate a juridical statement of the conflicting claims. In Germany
the _Bundestag_ had only power to decide questions of law. Other
disputes were left to be fought out. Questions on which the existence
and vital honour of a state depend—any question which nearly concerns
the disputants—cannot be reduced to any cut and dry legal formula
of right and wrong. We may pass over the consideration that in some
cases (as in the Franco-Prussian War) the delay caused by seeking
mediation of any kind would deprive a nation of the advantage its
state of military preparation deserved. And we may neglect the
problem of finding an impartial judge on some questions of dispute,
although its solution might be a matter of extreme difficulty,
so closely are the interests of modern nations bound up in one
another. How could the Eastern Question, for example, be settled by
arbitration? It is impossible that such a means should be sufficient
for every case. Arbitration in other words may prevent war, but can
never be a substitute for war. We cannot wonder that this is so. So
numerous and conflicting are the interests of states, so various
are the grades of civilisation to which they have attained and the
directions along which they are developing, that differences of the
most vital kind are bound to occur and these can never be settled
by any peaceful means at present known to Europe. This is above all
true where the self-preservation[92] or independence of a people are
concerned. Here the “good-will” of the nations who disagree would
necessarily be wanting: there could be no question of the arbitration
of an outsider.
[87] See “A Plan for a Universal and Perpetual Peace” in the
_Principles of International Law_ (_Works_, Vol. II). One of
the main principles advocated by Bentham in this essay (written
between 1787 and 1789) is that every state should give up its
colonies.
[88] See his _Kleine Schriften_.
[89] _Institutes of the Law of Nations_ (1884), Vol. II., Ch. XIV.
[90] John Stuart Mill holds that the multiplication of federal
unions would be a benefit to the world. [See his _Considerations
on Representative Government_ (1865), Ch. XVII., where he
discusses the conditions necessary to render such unions
successful.] But the Peace Society is scarcely justified, on the
strength of what is here, in including Mill among writers who
have made definite proposals of peace or federation. (See _Inter.
Trib._)
[91] See what Lawrence says (_op. cit._, § 241) of neutralisation
and the limits of its usefulness as a remedy for war.
[92] Montesquieu: _Esprit des Lois_, X. Ch. 2. “The life of
governments is like that of man. The latter has a right to kill
in case of natural defence: the former have a right to wage war
for their own preservation.”
See also Vattel (_Law of Nations_, II. Ch. XVIII. § 332):—“But
if anyone would rob a nation of one of her essential rights, or
a right without which she could not hope to support her national
existence,—if an ambitious neighbour threatens the liberty of a
republic, if he attempts to subjugate and enslave her,—she will
take counsel only from her own courage. She will not even attempt
the method of conferences, in the case of a contention so odious
as this. She will, in such a quarrel, exert her utmost efforts,
exhaust every resource and lavish her blood to the last drop if
necessary. To listen to the slightest proposal in a matter of
this kind is to risk everything.”