[11] This was written several months before the outbreak of
the Great War, which England had invited by allowing
her peace-fanatics to bill and coo in her foreign
politics. Instead of reading the arrogant books on
blood-lust that nourished the well-advertised aims
of Germany, England played the fool with epicene
triflers of all sorts and conditions, and turned
her back on Lord Roberts, her truthful statesman.
She babbled about peace until she received from the
Prussian junkerdom proposals so abominable that they
brought her to the fighting point of honour; and
then she cried out for a million new soldiers. Yet
British statesmen, even then, paid many compliments
to their bad old habit of ingenuous pacifism. No
political dove wanted the world to believe that there
had been anything of the eagle in his attitude to
German war-culture. As if this truism could be a
consolation to heroic little Belgium, the Jeanne d’Arc
of nations, whose safety England had guaranteed, and
whose experiences in the hell of Teutonic savagery
had left her scorched, mutilated, yet unconquered.
Can anyone explain why the word “peace” has been
hypnotic to Anglo-Celtic minds? Every phase of human
enterprise must be a phase of war, because it claims
a battle-toll of killed and wounded and maimed.
Poverty alone is such a terrible phase of permanent
war that pacifists ought to devote all their energy
to its gradual betterment. Even the accidents of
civilization--street and railway accidents, colliery
explosions, sea tragedies, and so forth--equal in a
century the casualties on stricken fields. If only
our sentimentalists would try to think! Then they
would learn that the occasional strife between armies
never destroys in a century as many lives as the
multiform continuous strife called peace. And we may
be certain that all the human war of the future will
not belong to “peace” alone. The birth of many a new
era will be aided by the fierce midwifery of military
and naval warfare. To-day is the 26th of September,
1914, and England in two months has nearly outgrown
the routine claptrap of her effete idealism. To-day
she is eager to bear any amount of self-sacrifice;
two months ago her peace-mania was a crime against
the Empire and against her treaty obligations to
Belgium. She had no faith in National Service till
Germany had passed from arrogant warnings to barbaric
aggressions. Agadir was not enough to put common sense
into her dreamful solicitude about international
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account