Remarks at the Peace Banquet
时间：2011-08-13 06:53:53
（单词翻译:单击）
I am only a philosopher, and there is only one thing that a philosopher can be relied on to do. You know that the function of statistics has been ingeniously described as being the refutation of other statistics. Well, a philosopher can always contradict other philosophers. In ancient times philosophers defined man as the rational animal; and philosophers since then have always found much more to say about the rational than about the animal part of the definition. But looked at candidly1, reason bears about the same proportion to the rest of human nature that we in this hall bear to the rest of America, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Polynesia. Reason is one of the very feeblest of Nature's forces, if you take it at any one spot and moment. It is only in the very long run that its effects become perceptible. Reason assumes to settle things by weighing them against one another without prejudice, partiality, or excitement; but what affairs in the concrete are settled by is and always will be just prejudices, partialities, cupidities, and excitements. Appealing to reason as we do, we are in a sort of a forlorn hope situation, like a small sand-bank in the midst of a hungry sea ready to wash it out of existence. But sand-banks grow when the conditions favor; and weak as reason is, it has the unique advantage over its antagonists2 that its activity never lets up and that it presses always in one direction, while men's prejudices vary, their passions ebb3 and flow, and their excitements are intermittent4. Our sand-bank, I absolutely believe, is bound to grow, -- bit by bit it will get dyked and breakwatered. But sitting as we do in this warm room, with music and lights and the flowing bowl and smiling faces, it is easy to get too sanguine5 about our task, and since I am called to speak, I feel as if it might not be out of place to say a word about the strength of our enemy.
Our permanent enemy is the
noted6 bellicosity7 of human nature. Man, biologically considered, and whatever else he may be in the bargain, is simply the most formidable of all beasts of
prey8, and, indeed, the only one that
preys9 systematically10 on its own species. We are once for all adapted to the military status. A
millennium11 of peace would not breed the fighting
disposition12 out of our bone and
marrow13, and a function so ingrained and vital will never consent to die without resistance, and will always find impassioned apologists and idealizers.
Not only are men born to be soldiers, but non-combatants by trade and nature, historians in their studies, and clergymen in their pulpits, have been war's idealizers. They have talked of war as of God's court of justice. And, indeed, if we think how many things beside the frontiers of states the wars of history have
decided14, we must feel some respectful
awe15, in spite of all the horrors. Our actual civilization, good and bad alike, has had past war for its determining condition. Great-mindedness among the tribes of men has always meant the will to prevail, and all the more so if
prevailing16 included
slaughtering17 and being
slaughtered18. Rome, Paris, England, Brandenburg, Piedmont, -- soon, let us hope, Japan, -- along with their arms have made their traits of character and habits of thought prevail among their conquered neighbors. The
blessings19 we actually enjoy, such as they are, have grown up in the shadow of the wars of
antiquity20. The various ideals were backed by fighting wills, and where neither would give way, the God of battles had to be the
arbiter21. A shallow view, this, truly; for who can say what might have prevailed if man had ever been a reasoning and not a fighting animal? Like dead men, dead causes tell no tales, and the ideals that went under in the past, along with all the tribes that represented them, find to-day no recorder, no explainer, no
defender22.
But apart from theoretic
defenders23, and apart from every soldierly individual straining at the
leash24, and clamoring for opportunity, war has an
omnipotent25 support in the form of our imagination. Man lives by habits, indeed, but what he lives for is thrills and excitements. The only relief from Habit's tediousness is periodical excitement. From time immemorial wars have been, especially for non-combatants, the
supremely26 thrilling excitement. Heavy and dragging at its end, at its outset every war means an explosion of imaginative energy. The dams of routine burst, and
boundless27 prospects28 open. The remotest spectators share the
fascination29. With that awful struggle now in progress on the confines of the world, there is not a man in this room, I suppose, who doesn't buy both an evening and a morning paper, and first of all
pounce30 on the war column.
A deadly listlessness would come over most men's imagination of the future if they could seriously be brought to believe that never again in saecula saeculorum would a war trouble human history. In such a
stagnant31 summer afternoon of a world, where would be the
zest32 or interest ?
This is the constitution of human nature which we have to work against. The plain truth is that people want war. They want it anyhow; for itself; and apart from each and every possible consequence. It is the final
bouquet33 of life's fireworks. The born soldiers want it hot and actual. The non-combatants want it in the background, and always as an open possibility, to feed imagination on and keep excitement going. Its clerical and historical defenders fool themselves when they talk as they do about it. What moves them is not the blessings it has won for us, but a vague religious exaltation. War, they feel, is human nature at its uttermost. We are here to do our uttermost. It is a sacrament. Society would rot, they think, without the mystical blood-payment.
We do ill, I fancy, to talk much of universal peace or of a general disarmament. We must go in for preventive medicine not for
radical34 cure. We must cheat our
foe35, politically
circumvent36 his action, not try to change his nature. In one respect war is like love, though in no other. Both leave us
intervals37 of rest; and in the intervals life goes on
perfectly38 well without them, though the imagination still
dallies39 with their possibility. Equally insane when once aroused and under headway, whether they shall be aroused or not depends on accidental circumstances. How are old maids and old bachelors made? Not by deliberate
vows40 of
celibacy41, but by sliding on from year to year with no sufficient matrimonial
provocation42. So of the nations with their wars. Let the general possibility of war be left open, in Heaven's name, for the imagination to
dally43 with. Let the soldiers dream of
killing44, as the old maids dream of marrying. But organize in every conceivable way the practical
machinery45 for making each successive chance of war
abortive46. Put peace-men in power; educate the editors and statesmen to responsibility; -- how beautifully did their trained responsibility in England make the Venezuela incident abortive! Seize every
pretext47, however small, for
arbitration48 methods, and multiply the
precedents49; foster rival excitements and invent new
outlets50 for heroic energy; and from one generation to another, the chances are that
irritations51 will grow less acute and states of strain less dangerous among the nations. Armies and navies will continue, of course, and will fire the minds of populations with their potentialities of greatness. But their officers will find that somehow or other, with no deliberate intention on any one's part, each successive "incident" has managed to evaporate and to lead nowhere, and that the thought of what might have been
remains52 their only
consolation53.
The last weak runnings of the war spirit will be "
punitive54 expeditions." A country that turns its arms only against uncivilized
foes56 is, I think, wrongly
taunted57 as
degenerate58. Of course it has ceased to be heroic in the old grand style. But I verily believe that this is because it now sees something better. It has a conscience. It knows that between
civilized55 countries a war is a crime against civilization. It will still perpetrate peccadillos, to be sure. But it is afraid, afraid in the good sense of the word, to engage in absolute crimes against civilization.
分享到：
