The Great Illusion

It is generally admitted that the present rivalry in armaments in Europe⁠—notably such as that now in progress between England and Germany⁠—cannot go on in its present form indefinitely. The net result of each side meeting the efforts of the other with similar efforts is that at the end of a given period the relative position of each is what it was originally, and the enormous sacrifices of both have gone for nothing. If as between England and Germany it is claimed that England is in a position to maintain the lead because she has the money, Germany can retort that she is in a position to maintain the lead because she has the population, which must, in the case of a highly organized European nation, in the end mean money. Meanwhile, neither side can yield to the other, as the one so doing would, it is felt, be placed at the mercy of the other, a situation which neither will accept.

There are two current solutions which are offered as a means of egress from this impasse. There is that of the smaller party, regarded in both countries for the most part as one of dreamers and doctrinaires, who hope to solve the problem by a resort to general disarmament, or, at least, a limitation of armament by agreement. And there is that of the larger, which is esteemed the more practical party, of those who are persuaded that the present state of rivalry and recurrent irritation is bound to culminate in an armed conflict, which, by definitely reducing one or

Are the axioms set out in the last chapter unchallengeable?

Is it true that the wealth, prosperity and well-being of a nation depend upon its military power, or have necessarily anything whatever to do therewith?

Can one civilized nation gain moral or material advantage by the military conquest of another?

Does conquered territory add to the wealth of the conquering nation?

Is it possible for a nation to “own” the territory of another in the way that a person or corporation would “own” an estate?

Could Germany “take” English trade and Colonies by military force?

Could she turn English Colonies into German ones, and win an overseas empire by the sword, as England won hers in the past?

Does a modern nation need to expand its political boundaries in order to provide for increasing population?

If England could conquer Germany tomorrow, completely conquer her, reduce her nationality to so much dust, would the ordinary British subject be the better for it?

If Germany could conquer England, would any ordinary German subject be the better for it?

The fact that all these questions have to be answered in the negative, and that a negative answer seems to outrage common sense, shows how much our political axioms are in need of revision.

happen if a German invader looted the Bank of England⁠—German trade dependent upon English credit⁠—Confiscation of an enemy’s property an economic impossibility under modern conditions⁠—Intangibility of a community’s wealth.

During the Victorian Jubilee procession an English beggar was heard to say:

I own Australia, Canada, New Zealand, India, Burma, and the Islands of the Far Pacific; and I am starving for want of a crust of bread. I am a citizen of the greatest Power of the modern world, and all people should bow to my greatness. And yesterday I cringed for alms to a negro savage, who repulsed me with disgust.

What is the meaning of this?

The meaning is that, as very frequently happens in the history of ideas, our terminology is a survival of conditions no longer existing, and our mental conceptions follow at the tail of our vocabulary. International politics are still dominated by terms applicable to conditions which the processes of modern life have altogether abolished.

In the Roman times⁠—indeed, in all the ancient world⁠—it may have been true that the conquest of a territory meant a tangible advantage to

To a critic, who maintained that the armies of the world were necessary and justifiable on the same grounds as the police forces of the world (“Even in communities such as London, where, in our civic capacity, we have nearly realized all your ideals, we still maintain and are constantly improving our police force”), I replied:

When we learn that London, instead of using its police for the running in of burglars and “drunks,” is using them to lead an attack on Birmingham for the purpose of capturing that city as part of a policy of “municipal expansion,” or “Civic Imperialism,” or “Pan-Londonism,” or whatnot; or is using its force to repel an attack by the Birmingham police acting as the result of a similar policy on the part of the Birmingham patriots⁠—when that happens you can safely approximate a police force to a European army. But until it does, it is quite evident that the two⁠—the army and the police force⁠—have in reality diametrically opposed roles. The police exist as an instrument of social cooperation; the armies as the natural outcome of the quaint illusion that though one city could never enrich itself by “capturing” or “subjugating” another, in some unexplained way one country can enrich itself by capturing or subjugating another.

And the Dervishes? The honor of the fight must still go with the men who died. Our men were perfect, but the Dervishes were superb⁠—beyond perfection. It was their largest, best, and bravest army that ever fought against us for Mahdism, and it died worthily for the huge empire that Mahdism won and kept so long. Their riflemen, mangled by every kind of death and torment that man can devise, clung round the black flag and the green, emptying their poor, rotten homemade cartridges dauntlessly. Their spearmen charged death every minute hopelessly. Their horsemen led each attack, riding into the bullets till nothing was left.⁠ ⁠… Not one rush, or two, or ten, but rush on rush, company on company, never stopping, though all their view that was not unshaken enemy was the bodies of the men who had rushed before them. A dusky line got up and stormed forward: it bent, broke up, fell apart, and disappeared. Before the smoke had cleared another line was bending and storming forward in the same track.⁠ ⁠… From the green army there now came only death-enamored desperadoes, strolling one by one towards the rifles, pausing to take a spear, turning aside to recognize a corpse, then, caught by a sudden jet of fury, bounding forward, checking, sinking limply to the ground. Now under the black flag in a ring of bodies stood only three men, facing the three thousand of the Third Brigade. They folded their arms about the staff and gazed steadily forward. Two fell.