The war in which England is now engaged with Germany is fundamentally a war between two different principles—that of raison d'État, and that of the rule of law. The antagonism between these two principles appeared in our own internal history as far back as the seventeenth century, when the Stuarts championed the theory of state-necessity and the practice of a prerogative free to act outside and above the law in order to meet the demands of state-necessity, and when Parliament defended the rule of law and sought to include the Crown under that law. The same antagonism now appears externally in a struggle between two nations, one of which claims a prerogative to act outside and above the public law of Europe in order to secure the 'safety' of its own state, while the other stands for the rule of public law. The one regards international covenants to which it has pledged its own word as 'scraps of paper' when they stand in the way of salus populi; the other regards the maintenance of such covenants as a grave and inevitable obligation.

Taught by Treitschke, whom they regard as their great national historian, and whose lectures on Politik have become a gospel, the Germans of to-day assume as an ultimate end and a final standard what they regard as the national German state.[179] 'The state', says Treitschke, 'is the highest thing in the external society of man: above it there is nothing at all in the history of the world.' There is here no room for comity of nations; for a societas totius humani generis; for international law in any true sense. What really exists is the exclusive state—der geschlossene Staat—and in another sense than that of Fichte. This state is rigorously national: it excludes all foreign words from its vocabulary, and it would fain exclude all foreign articles from its shores in order to found a real 'national' economy such as List preached. Further, in the teaching of Treitschke this exclusive state is, 'as Machiavelli first clearly saw', essentially power: der Staat ist Macht. It may be defined as 'the public might for defence and offence'. As the highest duty of the individual is self-perfection, the highest duty of the state is self-preservation; and self-preservation means power. 'To care for its power is the highest moral duty of the state.' 'Of all political weaknesses that of feebleness is the most abominable and despicable: it is the sin against the Holy Spirit of Politics.' This may seem the mere worship of might, and it is in effect nothing else than the mere worship of might; but we should misrepresent Treitschke if we did not add that power is not conceived by him as mere or bare power. The power of the state is precious and ultimate because the state is a vehicle of culture: the armed sword of the German state is precious because that state is the colporteur of German culture. And thus Treitschke holds that Machiavelli, the great apostle of might, is only wrong in so far as he failed to see that might must justify itself by having a content, that is to say, by being used to spread the highest moral culture. It is naturally assumed by German nationalists that this is German culture.

Two results flow from this philosophy, one negative, the other positive. The negative result is the repudiation of any idea of the final character of international obligation; the other is the praise of the glory of war.

Salus populi suprema lex; and to it all international 'law' so called must bend. The absolute sovereignty of the state is necessary for its absolute power; and that absolute sovereignty cannot be bound by any obligation, even of its own making. Every treaty or promise made by a state, Treitschke holds, is to be understood as limited by the proviso rebus sic stantibus. 'A state cannot bind its will for the future over against other states.' International treaties are no absolute limitation, but a voluntary self-limitation of the state, and only for such time as the state may find to be convenient. The state has no judge set over it, and any 'legal' obligation it may incur is in the last resort subject to its own decision—in other words, to its own repudiation.[180] That the end justifies the means (in other words, that the maintenance of the German Empire as it stands justifies the violation of an international obligation) 'has a certain truth'. 'It is ridiculous to advise a state which is in competition with other states to start by taking the catechism into its hands.' All these hints of his master were adopted and expanded by Bernhardi, the faithful disciple of Treitschke, whose Berlin lectures were attended in the last quarter of the nineteenth century by soldiers and officials as well as by students. There is no such thing, Bernhardi feels, as universal international law. 'Each nation evolves its own conception of Right (Recht): none can say that one nation has a better conception than another.' 'No self-respecting nation would sacrifice its own conception of Right' to any international rule: 'by so doing it would renounce its own highest ideals.' The ardent nationalism which will reject foreign words and foreign wares will reject international law as something 'foreign'. Again, Bernhardi makes play with the proviso rebus sic stantibus; and this, curiously enough, he does in reference to Belgium. Things are altered in Belgium, and therefore the plighted word of Germany may no longer be binding. 'When Belgium was proclaimed neutral, no one contemplated that she would lay claim to a large and valuable region of Africa. It may well be asked whether the acquisition of such territory is not ipso facto a breach of neutrality.'[181]

But it is the glorification of war—war aggressive as well as war defensive—which is the most striking result of the doctrine of the all-sufficing, all-embracing national state. In the index to Treitschke's Politik, under the word War, one reads the following headings—'its sanctity'; 'to be conceived as an ordinance set by God'; 'is the most powerful maker of nations'; 'is politics par excellence'. Two functions, says Treitschke, the state exists to discharge; and these are to administer law, and to make war. Of the two war, since it is politics par excellence, would appear to be the greater. War cannot be thought or wished out of the world: it is the only medicine for a sick nation. When we are sunk in the selfish individualism of peace, war comes to make us realize that we are members one of another. 'Therein lies the majesty of war, that the petty individual altogether vanishes before the great thought of the state.' War alone makes us realize the social organism to which we belong: 'it is political idealism which demands war.' And again, 'what a perversion of morality it were, if one struck out of humanity heroism'(Heldentum)—as if Heldentum could not exist in peace! 'But the living God will see to it that war shall always recur as a terrible medicine for humanity.'

Thus the idealization of the state as power results in the idealization of war. As we have seen that the state must be 'power' in order to preserve itself at all, we now find that it must be a war-state to preserve itself from 'sickness'. If it does not fight, individualism will triumph over the social organism; heroism will perish out of the world. Hence Bernhardi writes: 'the maintenance of peace never can or may be the goal of a policy'. War, war—the 'strong medicine', the teacher of heroism, and, as Bernhardi adds to Treitschke, the inevitable biological law, the force that spreads the finest culture—war is the law of humanity. And this war is offensive as well as defensive—primarily, indeed, offensive. For the growing nation must preserve all its new members in its bosom: it must not let them slip away by emigration to foreign soils. It must therefore find for itself colonies; and since the world is already largely occupied, it must find them by conquest from other powers.[182] Treitschke already cried the watchwords—'Colonies!' 'Sea-power to gain colonies!' Treitschke already designated England as the object of German attack, and began to instil in Germany a hatred of England. England blocked the way to the growth of Germany from a European into a World-power; Germany, to preserve intact for German culture the surplus of the growing population, must be a World-power or perish. And besides, England was a 'sick' state—a sham, an hypocrisy.[183]

The whole philosophy seems paganism, or rather barbarism, with a moral veneer. It seems barbarism, because it brings us back to the good old days when mere might was right. Bernhardi, speaking of the right of conquest of new territory inherent in a growing people, tells us that in such cases 'might is at once the supreme right, and the dispute as to what is right is decided by the arbitrament of war', which gives a 'biologically just decision'! And he expresses wonder and surprise at those who think that 'the weak nation is to have the same right to live as the powerful and vigorous nation'. In a word, then, might is right. The doctrine has in itself a rude barbaric simplicity: what is utterly revolting in the neo-Germanic presentment is its moral veneer—the talk of war as the fruit of 'political idealism' and the expression of the 'social organism': the talk of 'historical development' as invalidating supposed 'rights' like the neutrality of Belgium; above all, the talk of power as 'the vehicle of the highest culture'. Treitschke, a stern Protestant, seeks to reconcile the doctrine with Christianity; but the doctrine is all the same pagan. It is the worship of brute force disguised as Heldentum, and of vicious cunning disguised as political morality: it is a mixture of Nietzsche[184] and of Machiavelli. It is a doctrine of the omnipotence of the super-nation, which 'to maintain its state', as Machiavelli said, 'will go to work against faith and charity and humanity and religion', and which will stride ruthlessly to war when 'the day' comes. And when it goes to war, all the veneer of culture goes. 'Have a care', Mommsen once said, 'lest in this state, which has been at once a power in arms and a power in intelligence, the intelligence should vanish, and nothing but the pure military state should remain.' Mommsen's warning has come true in August, 1914. By their fruits ye shall know them. The fruits of Heldentum are Louvain smoking in ashes to the sky.

It has seemed worth while to describe this philosophy of life, because it is not only the philosophy of a professor like Treitschke, but also that of a soldier like Bernhardi; and not only so, but it is the philosophy of the Prussian Government. Even the Imperial Chancellor himself used this doctrine (with some qualms, it is true) to justify Germany in 'hewing its way' through Belgium. Let us only remember, in justice to a great people, that it is not really the doctrine of Germany, but rather the doctrine of Prussia (though Treitschke will tell us that Germany is 'just merely an extended Prussia'). And let us remember, in extenuation of Prussia, that she has suffered from two things—geographical pressure springing from her mid-European situation, and an evil tradition of ruthless conquest perpetuated by her Hohenzollern rulers since the days of the Great Elector, and especially since Frederic the Great. Geographical pressure on all sides has made Prussia feel herself in a state of chronic strangulation; and a man who feels strangled will struggle ruthlessly for breath. To get breathing space, to secure frontiers which would ease an intolerable pressure, Frederic the Great could seize Silesia in time of peace in spite of his father's guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanction, and could suggest the partition of Poland. Frontier pressure thus led to ruthless conquest irrespective of rights; and that tradition has sunk deep. It has been easier for England, an island state in the West exempt from pressure, to think in other terms: it has been possible for Russia, secure in the East, to think, and to think nobly (as the present Tsar has done), of international obligation. Nor is it an accident that sees England and Russia united in the common cause of Europe to-day—that sees both championing the cause of small nations, one in the East, the other in the West.[185]

But in whatever way we may excuse Prussia we must fight Prussia; and we fight it in the noblest cause for which men can fight. That cause is the public law of Europe, as a sure shield and buckler of all nations, great and small, and especially the small. To the doctrine of the almightiness of the state—to the doctrine that all means are justified which are, or seem, necessary to its self-preservation, we oppose the doctrine of a European society, or at least a European comity of nations, within which all states stand; we oppose the doctrine of a public law of Europe, by which all states are bound to respect the covenants they have made. We will not and cannot tolerate the view that nations are 'in the state and posture of gladiators' in their relations one with another; we stand for the reign of law.

Our cause, as one would expect from a people that has fought out its own internal struggles under the forms of law, is a legal cause. We are a people in whose blood the cause of law is the vital element. It is no new thing in our history that we should fight for that cause. When England and Revolutionary France went to war in 1793, the cause, on the side of England, was a legal cause. We fought for the public law of Europe, as it had stood since the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. We did not fight in 1870, because neither France nor Germany had infringed the public law of Europe by attacking the neutrality of Belgium, but we were ready to fight if they did. A fine cartoon in Punch, of August, 1870, shows armed England encouraging Belgium, who stands ready with spear and shield, with the words—'Trust me! Let us hope that they won't trouble you, dear friend. But if they do——' To-day they have; and England has drawn her sword. How could she have done otherwise, with those traditions of law so deep in all Anglo-Saxon blood—traditions as real and as vital to Anglo-Saxon America as to Anglo-Saxon England; traditions which are the fundamental basis of Anglo-Saxon public life all the world over? America once fought and beat England, in long-forgotten days, on the ground of law. That very ground of law—that law-abidingness which is as deeply engrained in the men of Massachusetts to-day as it is in any Britisher—is a bond of sympathy between the two in this great struggle of the nations.

To Germans our defence of public law may seem part of the moral hypocrisy of which in their view we are full. What we are doing, they feel, is to strike at Germany, our competitor for 'world-empire', with its dangerous navy, while Germany is engaged in a life and death struggle with France and Russia. We too, they feel, are Machiavellians; but we have put on what Machiavelli called 'the mantle of superstition', the pretence of morality and law, to cover our craft. It is true that we are fighting for our own interest. But what is our interest? We are fighting for Right, because Right is our supreme interest. The new German political theory enunciates that 'our interest is our right'. The old—the very old—English political theory is, 'The Right is our interest'. It is true that we have everything to gain by defending the cause of international law. Should that prevent us from defending that cause? What do we not lose of precious lives in the defence?

This is the case of England. England stands for the idea of a public law of Europe, and for the small nations which it protects. She stands for her own preservation, which is menaced when public law is broken, and the 'ages' slow-bought gain' imperilled.

(Treitschke's Politik, lectures delivered in Berlin during the years 1875 to 1895, was published in two volumes in 1899. General Bernhardi's book, Deutschland und der nÄchste Krieg, was published in 1911, and has been translated into English under the title Germany and the Next War. See also J.A. Cramb, England and Germany, 1914.)

Notes:[Footnote 179: The unity of the German state is in no small measure a matter of artificial Prussianization. Of this Prussianization Treitschke was the great advocate, though he was himself ultimately of Slavonic origin, and immediately of Saxon birth.][Footnote 180: We are reminded of the famous sentence in The Prince:—Dove non È giudizio da richiamare si guarda al fine.][Footnote 181: Bernhardi adds: 'The conception of permanent neutrality is entirely contrary to the essential nature of the state, which can only attain its highest moral aims in competition with other states.' It would seem to follow that by violating the neutrality of Belgium Germany is helping that country to attain its highest moral aims. The suggestion that Belgium is no longer a neutral Power was not adopted by the German Government before the war, nor by Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg in his speech to the Reichstag on the Belgian question (see supra, p. 91).][Footnote 182: It was significant that Germany, while offering to England at the end of July a guarantee of the integrity of the soil of France, would not offer any guarantee of the integrity of French colonies (supra, p. 82).][Footnote 183: Nothing has here been said, though much might be said, of the distortion of history and ethnology by German nationalism, or Pan-Germanism. It is well known that the Pan-Germans regard England as Teutonic, and destined to be gathered into the German fold. In these last few weeks we have been reproached as a people for being traitors to our 'Teutonic' blood. Better be traitors to blood than to plain duty; but as a matter of fact our mixed blood has many other strains than the Teutonic. On the aims of the Pan-Germanists readers may with profit consult a book by Paul Vergnet, La France en danger (Oct. 1913).][Footnote 184: In fairness to Nietzsche it should be said that in his later years he revolted against the Prussian military system.][Footnote 185: German professors have recently reproached England for being allied with 'Muscovite barbarism'. Is Russia so barbarous, whose sovereign convened the first Peace Conference? Have not England and Russia striven together in peace (as they now strive together in war) for a great common cause? The German White Book, which seeks to fasten on Russia the blame of the present war, is oblivious of all that has happened in these matters since 1898. The reader may with advantage refer, on this subject, to a pamphlet by Professor Vinogradoff, Russia: the Psychology of a Nation (Oxford, 1914).]