Is Pacifism Enough? A Christian Determination

MY DEAR FRIEND: —
Your question, ‘What is the American Christian answer to war?’ is one which no single individual should presume to answer. But, as you break it down into a series of personal inquiries in the questions, ‘What is your present attitude on pacifism, on war against aggression, and on war to save another nation from attack and dishonor? What were your opinions during the World War? Also the reasons for change — if a change took place? And what do you think your attitude might be if our own country became engaged in a war at this time ? ‘ I feel compelled to attempt a frank answer, especially as these are questions in the minds of multitudes of Americans at the present time.
Pacifism has long intrigued me, but fails to convince. As a worker for world peace for the past two decades, I have many times been asked to sign a pacifist pledge and have declined on both practical and moral grounds. I have been unwilling to commit myself in advance to a specific course of action in future unknown circumstances, and have grave doubts as to the morality of so doing. While I admire the conscientiousness of those who take this stand, and feel that it is a much needed and valuable witness to an ideal, I cannot feel it to be adequate to the situation.
Too often pacifism is over-concerned with the physical and material, lays too much stress upon death and suffering as compared with moral and spiritual values. Even when it does not do this, it still remains negative in character, and so, ineffective. Merely to abstain from fighting, even to have our jails filled with conscientious objectors, will not necessarily prevent war, much less secure justice. Moreover, the basic idea of non-participation in war is today a fantastic impossibility. In olden days when war was fought between professional armies, with the civilian population largely left out, it was quite possible for persons to refuse to participate. Today, however, war is waged with the massed power of the entire nation. Not only its military forces, but its economic resources, its industry, in a measure its everyday life, are regimented and organized into instruments of war. Under these circumstances, no one can be a non-participant. One may refuse to fly a bombing plane, but if he fabricates the aluminum which goes into the fuselage, he participates. One may refuse to throw a hand grenade or bomb, but if he has a clerical position in a mining plant or a steel company, he participates. Indeed, if one is selling groceries or raising sheep, he is in some measure a participant. This constitutes a very real and cruel problem for many people; but if we are to be honest and realistic it must be faced.
Since, in this closely integrated and interdependent world, one cannot possibly refrain from some kind of participation in war, it becomes then merely a matter of the kind and extent of such participation. One may refuse to take his place in the fighting line, in which case he releases some other to do that task for him, and elects himself to participate in a safer and less direct, but none the less essential and real, fashion. For all these reasons, then, — that spiritual and moral values are above material, that positive action is more important than negative, that non-participation is impossible, — despite my loathing of war and the war system, I cannot accept the pacifist position as either essentially right or peculiarly Christian.
A year ago, when visiting the Archbishop of Canterbury, we were strolling in his garden after dinner, and I chanced to remark that such things as truth and liberty could not perish, but would hold their own despite all attacks — admittedly a rather trite statement. After a brief silence his Grace turned to me and said, ‘The trouble is, they have no force behind them, and today the world is ruled by force.’ This utterance startled me at the time, but the more I reflected upon it, the more I felt its truth and cogency. Modern science has placed in man’s hands forces undreamed of by our ancestors. These may work for weal or woe and be so used as to bring blessing or curse to mankind. At the present time we see such forces used by men to attain their selfish and often inhuman ends. Under such circumstances the only practical procedure is to have preponderant force on the side of righteousness and truth.
Fundamentally the issue between pacifists and non-pacifists depends upon one’s philosophy of force. If the pacifist assumption be that force is an evil per se, then we must give up not only armies and navies, but our police force as well, and indeed all other kinds of physical coercion, including parental punishment and discipline of children. There are few who would go as far as that. Force in itself is neither moral nor immoral, but amoral. Its rightness or wrongness depends upon the motive with which it is used. To oppose aggression, for example, the use of force is certainly justifiable. In law there can be no question about this; neither does there seem to be much doubt from the standpoint of morals. If a wild beast or gangster is loose in the streets threatening innocent women and children, the use of force to restrain him is not only necessary but justified. All decent people have the right to live their lives in peace and security; and, if those who threaten them can be controlled in no other way than by force, then force is right. The same applies to nations. If gangster nations are abroad threatening those nations whose only desire is to live in peace and security, then resistance to such aggression by force is justified.
Of course, war is a terrible evil. But so are the incarceration and torture of innocent men, women, and children in concentration camps; so is the turning of multitudes of helpless individuals out of house and home to wander the fields like wild beasts; so is the exaltation of cruelty, hate, and lies, and the scornful repudiation of truth, kindness, and love — and one might go on. The difference here lies in one’s sense of values. Horrible as I know war to be, I am not able to convince myself that it is the greatest evil in the world, nor am I able to believe that it is always morally unjustifiable. History abounds with instances of wars that any moral theologian or historical writer would claim to have been just wars. Had not Charles Martel won the battle of Tours, Europe would probably be Mohammedan today, and so should we. Are we ready to say that the American Revolutionary War or the Civil War were unjustifiable? In each case certain values were endangered, certain rights threatened, and force saved and preserved them.

The attitude of the Christian toward war was one of the subjects thoroughly discussed at the so-called ‘Life and Work Conference’ at Oxford in 1937. The views were so divergent that all that could be done was to state the several points of view held by large numbers of Christians. Some took the extreme pacifist position that under no circumstances should a Christian fight. Some claimed that he might fight in a just war. Another group, holding the State to be of divine institution, held that a Christian should fight in any war the State declared. The Conference agreed that those conscientiously holding any of these views should be recognized as remaining within the Christian fellowship.
This was obviously an inconclusive and unsatisfying statement, and, at a conference of Christian leaders held the past summer in Geneva, an advance was made when it was voted that ‘war is an evil and unchristian method of settling disputes and the higher and, therefore, Christian method is that of conference, arbitration and conciliation. In short, no nation is to be the sole judge of the righteousness of its cause.’ The Christian, therefore, must bend every effort to see that arbitration and conciliation are attempted, even to the point of sacrifice, before resorting to war. In the last resort, however, I hold that war against aggression is justified.
As to war to save another nation from attack or dishonor, this would seem to me to be morally more justified than any other, because the selfish element, and such rationalization or warped judgments as often go therewith, are eliminated. An individual, for example, may be justified in refusing to strike back and accepting punishment and loss, if he alone is concerned, whereas he would not be so justified if others were suffering and it was in his power to help. The same reasoning applies to nations. While traveling about the Continent of Europe last summer, I was impressed with the constant fear and dread on the part of Belgium, Holland, and Switzerland — cloaked under the thin guise of ‘neutrality’ — of invasion by Germany. These countries simply want to be left alone to live their lives in peace, but are not allowed to do so. An intelligent Swiss said to me, ‘We can’t stand this any longer. Every year or oftener new threats appear and we are forced to mobilize. All our money goes into taxes to buy uniforms and guns. We can do no proper business. It simply must be stopped.’ That is the general feeling, and these countries look on England and France as their saviors. Surely, to play that role and bring a sense of peace and stability to distraught and helpless little nations is a worthy act. To be sure, motives may not be always pure; but for a strong and powerful nation to use its power to ensure the honor and safety of a weaker nation is an act of very high international morality and one which, if constantly followed, would go far to establish respect for the rights of all.
In the last war I was on the side of the Allies and honestly believed America’s entrance into the war was right. Further, with most of my countrymen, I sincerely believed we were fighting a war to end war and to make the world safe for democracy. With them, I was of course disillusioned afterward and came to see very clearly the definite limits as well as the evils of the war system, and have labored in season and out to get my own country as well as others to take the necessary steps to avert another world war. At the beginning of the post-war era, it seemed as if our efforts might succeed. Even so clear-headed an individual as Andrew Carnegie, when leaving his generous endowment to the Church Peace Union, was concerned chiefly with what should be done with the income of the fund after its purpose was achieved. Not wishing to tie the hands of the trustees, he made some informal suggestions as to what they should do with the money in that event.
This incident evokes a smile now, but it is well to remember that at that time most intelligent and informed people really believed that we had learned the lesson of the last war and were moving into an era of increased cooperation and understanding. Events since then have proved the fallacy of this point of view, and now we are once again facing what is little short of catastrophe. With much heavier heart, I nevertheless feel, as I did then, that, taking all the circumstances into account, England and France are justified in resisting tyranny and cruelty by force of arms.
War is a terrible, sinful, and futile thing, but in this sinful and disordered world, of which Christians are a part, one cannot always do the absolute right. More frequently one is faced with a choice between relative rights, or, if you please, two evils, and with the best judgment one can command one has to make a choice of the lesser evil or the clearer right. Such is the only justification for war from the Christian standpoint. We still look forward to the day when it will be eliminated completely from the earth.

If, however, we are to be realistic in our thinking, it won’t do to say too easily and without qualification that the last war is the cause of all our present evils. In so far as war creates and enhances hatred, suspicion, and fear, it is indirectly the cause of succeeding wars; but the direct cause of the things from which we are suffering today is not so much the war itself as what came after — not the soldiers, but the statesmen and politicians. It is said that when the war was over Marshal Foch said to Clemenceau, ‘Now, my task is ended. Yours is about to begin.’ The army, horrible as their task was, did what they were told to do by civilians and they succeeded in checking a monstrous evil. The more difficult achievement which should have followed, and which alone warranted such tremendous sacrifices, was creating conditions of such character as would have made another war unlikely, if not impossible. This the politicians and statesmen failed to do, which in turn was owing to the selfishness of the nations, including our own.
We are faced with the same situation today. If this war ends in victory for the forces that in the main stand for law and order and decency, the battle will be only half won. The ultimate results for mankind will depend, not on the victory of the Allies’ arms, but on the spirit and acts that prevail afterward. All force can do is to check evil. In its nature it is not constructive and cannot produce goodness. In the profound words of Admiral Mahan, ‘The function of force is to give time for moral ideas to take root.’ Force can, so to speak, clear the field of certain hindrances to good and so enable men of good will thereafter, if they so desire, to build a structure of true and abiding peace.
To lay the entire blame for the present war upon the last one is not. only an instance of muddled thinking, but a bit of unconscious rationalization. It is not only too simple a statement, but untrue, and has the effect of excusing those who make it. from any sense of responsibility or guilt in the circumstances. If statesmen, politicians, and all citizens could only be made to see and realize their own individual responsibility in the making of a post-war world, there might be some hope of its achievement. Certainly calling war horrible and wicked and laying upon it. all the blame for the sins of mankind will not help very much. For example, it; is so easy for Americans, often with a holier-than-thou attitude, to place upon the last war or the Treaty of Versailles the whole blame for the present situation. We should be more honest and more realistic if, instead, we examined our own hearts and our own actions as a nation to discover our own share of the guilt. It is easy to see that powerful nations over there used the League of Nations for their own selfish purposes, but it is less easy to see that the same sin of selfishness caused us to withdraw from any participation in the building up of the machinery of peace. Indeed I am inclined to think that our withdrawal set the first example of selfishness, and so we may in a measure bear the chief guilt.
Certainly, if we are to look for a suitable peace following the present war, it will not come by simply condemning the Treaty of Versailles or the ‘imperialistic powers.’ It will come only when all the nations — and especially the neutrals, including the United States — take their full part in cooperation with one another to ensure a peace free from vengeance and the lust of power. Without American participation, such a peace will be utterly impossible.
The desire to keep America out of war is one which I share, though I am not nearly so much interested in keeping America out of war as in the motive for so doing. Acts are right or wrong according to their motive; and if America keeps out of war for the purpose of saving her own skin or pocketbook, or living in ease and comfort while others are suffering, she will lose her soul. There is only one motive that can justify our abstention, and that is the conviction that we can better serve the world by remaining out — and it is a valid reason. If the war can be confined to a limited area, and if, after the exhaustion of the countries over yonder, there can be preserved in this world some one island of safety where the precious things of our civilization can be maintained for the sake of handing them on to a needy world, that is a valid and worthy purpose.
But let us be honest and realistic in asserting that purpose. The history of the past two decades does not give us much encouragement to think that America primarily desires to serve. We have consistently refused all kinds of cooperation toward the organization of a peaceful world; and, unless our point of view undergoes radical change, we cannot without hypocrisy allege such a motive.
If, however, we are sincere in this and mean to pay the price of full cooperation, then there is new hope for the world. Oddly enough, this is exactly in line with what George Washington envisaged when he wrote: —

I consider how mankind may be connected, like one great family, in fraternal ties. I indulge a fond, perhaps an enthusiastic idea, that as the world is much less barbarous than it has been, its melioration must still be progressive . . . that the period is not very remote when the benefits of a liberal and free commerce will pretty generally succeed to the devastations and horrors of war. And I most sincerely and devoutly wish that the exertions of those having this view may effect what human nature cries aloud for — general peace.

These are truly prophetic words and they envisage some sort of international organization of which America would be a part.

The answer to the question as to what my attitude would be if America should become involved in actual military participation in this war is, I think, not inconsistent. with all that has gone before. I hope and pray we may abstain; but if it should come to pass that freedom, truth, and justice are in danger of being obliterated in a large part of the globe, and that only American part icipation can save them, I should then feel such participation justified. In that event, as a Christian, I should still condemn war as an evil and futile thing and an unchristian method of settling differences. I should work in every way to bring nearer the time when we could adopt the more rational as well as more Christian method of conference and cooperation to the extent of considerable sacrifice.
I should also hold that the Christian Church must endeavor to see that the war is prosecuted as far as possible without personal hatred. We should be fighting evil systems, not men; and, paradoxical as it may seem, we should have to feel that even while we were causing the suffering and death of individuals we were doing it for their own good as well asours. Perhaps this may seem farfetched and hypocritical to some, but it is the only ground on which a Christian could conscientiously countenance war. In addition to all this, the Christian Church must endeavor to eliminate some of the modern barbarisms, such as poison gas, and in particular the bombing and killing of innocent civilians, and must take special care to minister to refugees and all other sufferers. We must also strive incessantly to eliminate the causes of war and so hasten the peace.
Increasingly do I feel that there is a good deal of unconscious hypocrisy or self-deception in our clamor for peace, and that many of our efforts arc superficial and ineffective. Of course, we all desire peace when we have everything we want, including our own way, but what we fail to realize is that these two things are incompatible. True peace and selfishness cannot go together. Peace is far more difficult to attain than most people realize. It cannot be had by passing resolutions or singing hymns, or even praying for it, unless at the same time we are sowing the seeds of peace. If, instead of decrying war and aiming directly at peace, we were to begin further back with the moral and spiritual causes of war and peace, we should make more progress. For the individual, this means the elimination of selfishness, bigotry, pride, race prejudice, and all narrow nationalism. For the nation, it means justice and fairness, a willingness to give and take in all international dealings, and above all a realization that no nation has the right to be the sole judge of its own case. This presupposes some international tribunal to which all nations will submit and some form of international organization or federation.
For our own country, it would mean that we must be ready to lower our tariffs, to adapt our currencies, even to forgo some elements of our so-called ‘absolute sovereignty’ in the interests of world community. All this involves thinking and acting often more arduous and painful than war itself. Such is part of the price we must pay. Peace is a costly thing. It cannot be bought cheap. Its nature is such that it cannot be secured by direct seeking, but is the fruit of prior sowing. It is not an isolated entity, but the result of justice and good will. It is not a tiling, but rather a state or condition, not so much an object to be sought as an atmosphere to be experienced. Peace is the halo that descends upon the head of the righteous community. If individuals and nations will but do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God, they will inevitably enter into that peace which truly passes understanding.