FOOTNOTE:

FOOTNOTE:[29]Temple.Worksii, p. 87.

[29]Temple.Worksii, p. 87.

In a second and somewhat looser sense "Liberty is regarded as the equivalent of Parliamentary government."[30]We speak of one type of Constitution as "free" and of another type as "unfree." The so-called "free" type of government is that in which political power rests in the hands of the Democracy, whereas in "unfree" States the people are in subjection to a ruling person or class. From the point of view of the individual subject this distinction has no meaning at all. For thelaws passed by a Democratic Parliament are coercive and compulsory in precisely the same manner and degree as are the laws of a despotic monarchy or a close oligarchy. There is, indeed, a "tyranny of the majority" which can be quite as oppressive to the individual as the tyranny of the one or the few, and much less easy to evade. From the point of view of the enfranchised community, however, the term "free" has a meaning, and its use can be defended. For if the electorate be regarded as a unit, akin to an organism, government becomes self-government, and any obligations which the community places upon itself by means of laws can be looked upon as self-limitations, imposed by free-will and capable of removal at any moment by the unfettered exercise of the power which imposed them. From this communal point of view, however, it is evident that national service involves no diminution of liberty. The community becomes not one whit less free because it decides to train itself in the use of arms and to mobilize all its resources for military purposes. It retains its capacity to demobilize any time it likes, to lay aside its arms, to pension off its drill sergeants, and to return to the paths of pacificism whenever it seems safe to do so.

FOOTNOTE:[30]Seeley:op. cit., p. 114.

[30]Seeley:op. cit., p. 114.

It cannot be denied, however, that compulsory military service does interfere with the power of theindividualto do as he likes. He is forced, whether he wants to or not, to undergo certain discipline in time of peace, and to face uncertain danger in time of war. National service, then, is a restriction of his liberty, if by liberty is meant the absence of all restraint. Now this is precisely the sense in which the term is most frequently used. "Quid est libertas?" (What is liberty?), asked Cicero, and he replied: "Potestas vivendi ut velis" (The power of living as you like).[31]"Freedom," said Sir Robert Filmer, "is the liberty for everyone to do what he lists, to live as he pleases, and not to be tied by any laws."[32]Even Locke, Filmer's great opponent, admitted that "the natural liberty of man is to be free from any superior power on earth." But who is the man who possesses this unlimited natural liberty to live as he likes, and to act as he pleases, subject to no superior power on earth? He is either a Robinson Crusoe, existing alone on a desert island, or he is an anarchist living in the midstof anarchists, and acknowledging no civil government whatsoever. In the latter case his career is likely to be as "poor, nasty, brutish, and short" as that of the primitive savage depicted by Hobbes. For if one man is free to live as he likes, subject to no superior power, so are all. Hence in such a society of absolute freemen, human law is totally abrogated, no life is protected, no property safeguarded. Everyone, so far as his power avails, does what he pleases, takes what he covets, slays whom he hates. When his power ceases to avail, that is when a stronger than he appears upon the scene, he is himself liable to be despoiled and killed. Such is the state of society in which absolute liberty obtains. It is a chaos of incessant civil war, where "every man is enemy to every man." Its unfortunate victims, the possessors of unrestricted liberty, find that there is

War among them, and despairWithin them, raging without truce or term.[33]

War among them, and despair

Within them, raging without truce or term.[33]

It is from this intolerable condition of perfect freedom that government saves a man. But it saves him—and in no other way can it possibly do so—by taking away from both himself and his fellows alike and in equal measure, part of their insufferable birthright of liberty. The very essence of government is restriction, compulsion, law. Under government, then, whatever may be its form, no man is free in the sense of being exempt from restraint. Natural liberty gives place in organized society to civil liberty, which is a much more modest and limited thing. "Civil liberty," says Blackstone, "is no other than natural liberty so far restrained by human laws as is necessary and expedient for the general advantage of the public."[34]In the same sense Austin defines it as "the liberty from legal obligation which is left or granted by a sovereign government to any of its own subjects."[35]But the most luminous definition is that of Montesquieu, who says: "Laliberté est le droit de faire tout ce que les lois permettent."[36]Those who would understand what true civil or political liberty is, and what are its necessary limitations, should imprint this profound utterance upon their memories, and employ it as a universal test of sound thinking on the subject.

"Liberty is the right to do all that the laws allow"—no more, and no less. Liberty, then, in the sphere of politics, is not the absence of all restraint whatsoever, but only the absence of all restraint except that of the law. Thus the freedom of which Britons boast—"English liberty"—is not a licence to anyone to do as he likes, but is merely the right of everyone to do what the laws of England permit, and it is a splendid possession merely because the laws of England are eminent for justice and equity. "English liberty" is perfectly consistent, as we all admit, with compulsory registration, vaccination, education, taxation, insurance, inspection, and countless other legal coercions. From our cradles to our graves we are beset behind and before by government regulations; yet we rightly assert that we are free. If then the laws of England add one more coercion, and proclaim anew the duty of universal military service, not onlywill they do a thing consonant with justice and equity, they will also do a thing which does not in the smallest degree diminish any individual's civil liberty.[37]

FOOTNOTES:[31]Cicero.Parad., v, 1.[32]Filmer.Patriarcha, quoted and criticized by Locke,On Government, book ii, chap. iv.[33]Shelley.Ode to Liberty, Canto 2. Compare the description ofHuriyeh(Liberty) given by Sir Mark Sykes inThe Caliphs' Last Heritage. I quote the following from a review inThe Spectator, of November 27th, 1915: Sir Mark Sykes sawHuriyeh(Liberty) at work in the distant provinces of the Empire. "What, O father of Mahmud," he said to an old Arab acquaintance, "is thisHuriyeh?" The "father of Mahmud" replied without hesitation "that there is no law and each one can do all he likes." Neither was this lawless interpretation of liberty confined to Moslems. The Greek Christians in the neighbourhood of Hebron were "armed to the teeth and glad ofHuriyeh, for they say they can now raid as well as other men." In Anatolia, a muleteer who had been discharged from Sir Mark Sykes's service "spent all his time singing 'Liberty—Equality—Fraternity,' the reason being that the Committee at Smyrna released him from prison, where he was undergoing sentence for his third murder."[34]Blackstone.Commentaries, i, 140.[35]Austin.Jurisprudence, p. 274.[36]Montesquieu.Esprit des Lois, p. 420.[37]Cf.Philip Snowden,Socialism and Syndicalism, p. 175. "When all submit to law imposed by the common will for the common good, the law is not slavery, but true liberty."

[31]Cicero.Parad., v, 1.

[32]Filmer.Patriarcha, quoted and criticized by Locke,On Government, book ii, chap. iv.

[33]Shelley.Ode to Liberty, Canto 2. Compare the description ofHuriyeh(Liberty) given by Sir Mark Sykes inThe Caliphs' Last Heritage. I quote the following from a review inThe Spectator, of November 27th, 1915: Sir Mark Sykes sawHuriyeh(Liberty) at work in the distant provinces of the Empire. "What, O father of Mahmud," he said to an old Arab acquaintance, "is thisHuriyeh?" The "father of Mahmud" replied without hesitation "that there is no law and each one can do all he likes." Neither was this lawless interpretation of liberty confined to Moslems. The Greek Christians in the neighbourhood of Hebron were "armed to the teeth and glad ofHuriyeh, for they say they can now raid as well as other men." In Anatolia, a muleteer who had been discharged from Sir Mark Sykes's service "spent all his time singing 'Liberty—Equality—Fraternity,' the reason being that the Committee at Smyrna released him from prison, where he was undergoing sentence for his third murder."

[34]Blackstone.Commentaries, i, 140.

[35]Austin.Jurisprudence, p. 274.

[36]Montesquieu.Esprit des Lois, p. 420.

[37]Cf.Philip Snowden,Socialism and Syndicalism, p. 175. "When all submit to law imposed by the common will for the common good, the law is not slavery, but true liberty."

Liberty as absence of restraint is, however, a merely negative thing; it is a "being let alone." Some great writers, John Stuart Mill for example, treat it as though it had only this negative character, and as though to be let alone were necessarily and in itself a good thing. But others have truly and forcefully shown, first, that to be let alone may sometimes be a doubtful blessing, and, secondly, that liberty has a further and positive aspect not less important than the negative. Sir J. F. Stephen, in hisLiberty, Equality, Fraternity, vigorously criticizes Mill's negative theory. Matthew Arnold inCulture and Anarchy(a work which well repays perusal at the present time) pours delightful but destructive ridicule upon "our prevalent notion that it is a most happy and important thing for a man merely to be able to do as he likes." Thomas Carlyle, inPast and Presentand elsewhere, vehemently expounds a positive ideal of liberty which involves strenuous work for the good of man and for social advancement. "If liberty be not that," he concludes, "I for one have small care about liberty." But first in eminence among the exponents of the positive aspect of liberty stands Thomas Hill Green, of Oxford. In his works he contends that liberty is more than absence of restraint, just as beauty is more than absence of ugliness.[38]He holds that it includes also "a positive power or capacity of doing or enjoying something worth doing or enjoying." He agrees with Mazzini that complete freedom is "found only in that satisfying fulfilment of civic duties to which rights, however precious, are but the vestibule."[39]He looks at freedom, that is to say, from the communal and not from the individual point of view. Man is a political animal, and only in an organized society can he attain his highest development. It is not good for man to be alone; each individual needs the companionship and co-operation of his fellows; no one in solitude can attain even to self-realization. Hence, government is more than a restraining power; it is also an organizingpower. It not only prevents its subjects from injuring one another; it places them where they can most effectively aid one another and work together for the common weal. It frees their faculties from the impotence of isolation, and opens up to them the unbounded possibilities of corporate activity. Hence, liberty on its positive side becomes merged in national service, in the broad sense of the fulfilment of the duties of citizenship. Thus he is an enemy of freedom who holds himself aloof from his fellows and declines to bear his share in the general burden. If, then, the State calls upon all its subjects to join together in undertaking the supreme task of national defence, every true lover of liberty must respond "Here am I."

FOOTNOTES:[38]Green,Principles of Political Obligation, p. 110-5.[39]Cf.MacCunn,Six Radical Thinkers, p. 259.

[38]Green,Principles of Political Obligation, p. 110-5.

[39]Cf.MacCunn,Six Radical Thinkers, p. 259.

[Reprinted from theMorning Postof December 28th, 1915.]

It is sometimes said that Britons are a common-sense and practical people, but a people impervious to ideas; that they are quick at the invention of expedients, but slow to recognize and follow general principles. This statement may be true of the nation as a whole; but it is lamentably untrue in respect of our politicians. They do somehow now and again get ideas into their heads, and when once they are there it seems as though nothing on earth or from heaven can eradicate them. I suppose that the explanation of this steadfast consistency, or unteachable obstinacy, is that their ideas soon pass out of their own control. Principles once professed are formulated into programmes, programmes aresolidified into platforms, and platforms are planted upon the insensate rock of party organization. Hence, to abandon an idea (even when it is found to be erroneous) or to repudiate a principle (even when it is proved to be false and pernicious) involves a political upheaval akin to a revolution. It is easier to continue to stand on an obsolete platform and watch a nation drift to disaster than to abandon the platform and endanger the party organization—euphemistically termed for the occasion "national unity." An excellent case in point is the pathetic devotion of successive Governments to the voluntary principle of military service.

As we have already seen, the voluntary principle—a comparatively modern novelty—is one which established itself in our constitution during the long period of peace that followed the Battles of Trafalgar and Waterloo, and it had itsraison d'êtrein the circumstances of the time. Our Navy had secured the undisputed command of the sea. Our shores and the shores of our distant Dominions were secure from invasion. All that we had to fear was an occasional Chartist riot, or Irish rebellion, or Indian mutiny, or petty Colonialwar. To suppress these sporadic disorders a small professional army was incomparably the best instrument, and it was, of course, best secured and maintained by the system of voluntary enlistment. Thus in the halcyon Georgian and Victorian days the right inherent in every sovereign Government to call upon its subjects for national service sank into forgetfulness, the ancient military obligations of Englishmen fell into desuetude, and voluntarism held the field.

A quarter of a century ago, however,i.e., soon after the present German Emperor came to the throne, circumstances radically changed. Germany obtained Heligoland and began to convert it into a naval base; she developed marked colonial activity and threatened British ascendancy in many parts of the world; she formulated a maritime programme and commenced the construction of a formidable navy. Nor was she alone. Other Powers also—Powers at that time regarded as less friendly to Britain than Germany was supposed to be—started in the race for overseas dominions, international commerce, and strong fleets. It became evident to the most casual observer that sooner or later British command of the sea might be challenged, Britain and the Dominions attacked, and the future of theEmpire put to the issue of war. Hence prudent patriots, who in course of time organized themselves into the National Service League under the guidance of Lord Roberts—clarum atque venerabile nomen—urged the revival of the old-time duty of universal military training in preparation for, and as the best safeguard against, the growing peril. But no! Politicians had committed themselves to the voluntary principle. The party caucuses would not risk the sacrifice of place and power that might ensue from the preaching of the unpalatable doctrine of duty and discipline to their masters, the electors. Hence, amid dangers daily growing greater in magnitude, the defence of the Empire on land (the garrisoning of one-fifth part of the land-area of the globe) was left to the diminutive professional force established merely for Imperial police purposes—a force smaller than that which Serbia felt necessary to guard her independence, or Switzerland to assure her neutrality.

What was the result? It was this: that the British Empire, the richest prize that the world has ever displayed, spread out its treasures before the envious eyes of militant nations, practically undefended, save for itsslender ring of circling ships. There it lay, a constant and irresistible lure, especially to that parvenu and predatory Germanic Power which had appeared upon the European scene, as the offspring of treachery and violence, in 1871. Thus those politicians—they were to be found in all parties—who refused to face the new conditions, who persisted in maintaining that the voluntary principle, which sufficed to police an Empire externally secure, would also guard it against a world in arms, did their unwitting best to render an attack inevitable, and to ensure that when it burst upon us it should do us the maximum of damage.

In due time, that is, when Germany thought that "the day" had dawned, the war came. Then the voluntary principle manifested its proper fruits. We found ourselves suddenly called upon to confront the supreme crisis of our fate with a gigantic proletariat untrained and unarmed, and with a diminutive army (below even its nominal strength), wholly inadequate to the magnitude of its tasks. What were the consequences? They were these: First, that our devoted Expeditionary Force, insufficient and unsupported, was sent across the Channel to almost certain and complete annihilation; secondly, that massesof reserves urgently needed on the Continent had to be kept in these islands to counter the risks of invasion; thirdly, that the mobility of our Navy had to be sacrificed to the same necessity of domestic defence (hence the disaster to Admiral Cradock); and, finally, that Belgium and North-East France had to be abandoned to the enemy—to be recovered later, if possible, at the cost of tens of thousands of lives.

One would have thought that at such a crisis of destiny our politicians would have faced the facts, would have realized that the time had come to summon the nation, as a disciplined whole, to front its peril and do its duty. If they had but had the courage to do so, who can doubt the loyalty of the response? But, once more, No! All sorts of irrelevant considerations of petty domestic politics—matters of votes and seats and party prejudices—determined the issue. The voluntary principle must at any cost be maintained sacrosanct and intact. Hence, to get the necessary men—or, rather, far fewer than the necessary men—every variety of extravagant and humiliating expedient had to be adopted. Hundreds of thousands of pounds of public money were squandered in advertisement and appeal, and a chaos of indiscriminateenlistment was inaugurated. Again, with what results? With these results: First, that myriads of middle-aged men with families have been taken while unmarried slackers have been left; secondly, that invaluable war-workers have been drawn from necessary tasks while useless wastrels have remained at large; thirdly, that the rate of recruiting has been spasmodic and wholly incalculable, that our armies have never been quite strong enough for the successive operations assigned to them, and that consequently a vast, needless, and largely fruitless sacrifice of the very cream of our nation's manhood has taken place. To the idol of voluntarism a veritable holocaust of victims has been offered up.

The voluntary principle, after seventeen months of inconceivably destructive war, still nominally holds the field.[40]Our sovereign politicians have up to the present remained verbally true to it; but at what a price! They have indefinitely postponed victory; they have allowed the sphere of operations to be immensely enlarged; they have been compelled through sheer military feebleness towitness neutral nations being drawn on to the side of the enemy; they have been unable to strike a decisive blow anywhere. Thus the war drags on inconclusively at a cost of £5,000,000 and 2,000 casualties every day. But the voluntary principle has been respected and vindicated! Has it? True it is that there has been a magnificent response to the Government's appeals. The patriotism and devotion of one half of the nation have effectively enabled the other half to evade its duty. But the time has again come when the demand for more men is imperative. Voluntarism is making its last efforts. Its devotees in their desperate endeavours to prevent its formal abandonment are eliminating from it every element of free will, and are introducing every device of veiled compulsion. Canvassers and recruiting-sergeants have brought immense pressure to bear upon every eligible man, under threats that unless he "volunteers" he will shortly be fetched, and fetched on less favourable terms than those now offered. Moreover, all sorts of other kinds of pressure are added. The papers are full of instances. For example, the Foreign Office is refusing passports to men of military age; the great shipping lines are declining to take eligible emigrants; employers arerefusing work to applicants who they think might serve. Finally, Mr. Asquith, in the House of Commons, gives the whole case away, and from the voluntarist point of view perpetrates the great apostasy, by admitting that our voluntary system of recruiting is "haphazard, capricious, and unjust," and by protesting that he has "no abstract ora prioriobjection of any sort or kind to compulsion in time of war," adding that he has no intention whatever to go to the stake "in defence of what is called the voluntary principle."[41]Poor "voluntary principle"! Already abandoned in practice, and now thrown over by its former high-priest!

FOOTNOTES:[40]This was written in December, 1915. A few weeks later the Military Service Bill became law. Compulsion is to be applied from March 1st, 1916.[41]House of Commons debate, November 2nd, 1915.

[40]This was written in December, 1915. A few weeks later the Military Service Bill became law. Compulsion is to be applied from March 1st, 1916.

[41]House of Commons debate, November 2nd, 1915.

Is there any shred or remnant of this deserted and discredited voluntary principle that is worth saving? There is not. It is the last disreputable relic of the extreme individualism of the Manchester School of the early nineteenth century, which taught a political theory that has been abandoned by all serious thinkers. Everyone now admits that it is the function of the State to secure as far as it can the conditions of the good life to its citizens. It is the logical and inevitable corollary thatit is the duty of every citizen to support and safeguard the State. It has long been one of the gravest weaknesses of our modern democracy that, while it has insisted vehemently upon its claims against the State—claims to education, employment, office, insurance, pension, and so on—it has remained comparatively oblivious to its responsibilities. Its so-called political leaders, who too often are but self-seeking flatterers fawning for its favour, have persistently encouraged it to concentrate its efforts upon getting without giving. It has been taught that it is proper to use political power in pursuit of selfish aims and to employ all manner of compulsion therein; but in the matter of national service it has received soothing lessons on the surpassing glories of the voluntary principle. It is the State which is to be coerced by threats of passive resistance or general strikes; but if the State attempts coercion in the exercise of its functions it is met by the passionate proclamation of the rights of personal freedom. Similarly, we have the amazing spectacle of Trade Unionists meeting in congress to condemn "conscription" and at the same time sanctioning the most extreme measures of illegal persecution to drive non-Unionists into the ranks of their own organizations. It is amonstrous and intolerable perversion of all sound political principles. The whole sorry business is a flagrant example of the subtle way in which a democracy can be cajoled, corrupted, and depraved.

I elaborated this point in a letter to theObserverwhich the Editor kindly allows me to reprint here. It will be found in the issue of January 17th, 1915:

One of the most curious phenomena of present-day politics is the opposition offered by collectivists to conscription—under which term they persistently and disingenuously include both the compulsory service of the German army and the very different universal military training of the Swiss citizen.Even Mr. Herbert Spencer and the extreme individualists of his school admitted that national defence is a proper function of the State, and that a government may rightly use compulsory powers to safeguard the community from attack.But Mr. Arnold Bennett and the semi-socialists of theDaily Chronicleand theDaily News—although they are filled with horror and indignation if it is suggested that an artisan should be allowed to choose whether or not he will enjoy the advantages of the Insurance Act; or that a collier, if he wishes to do so, should be permitted to work for more than eight hours a day; or that a labourer should be exempted from persecution as a blackleg if he prefers to remain outside the fold of a trade union—are fired with a long-dormant zeal for individual liberty, if it is urged that a young man's citizenship is incomplete until he has been called and prepared to defend his home and his country in case of need.Their collectivism is, in fact, a peculiarly perverted or inverted type of individualism. It insists on the right of the individual, if unemployed, to come to the State for work; if in poverty, to come to the State for relief; if ignorant, to come to the State for education: but it strenuously resists the exercise by the State of its reciprocal claim on the service of the individual. It is engrossed by the contemplation of the rights of the individual and the duties of the State; it ignores the rights of the State and the duties of the individual.It is true that our voluntary system of military service has done wonders in this war, far more indeed than could ever have been expected of it; but this does not alter the fact that it iswrong in principle. It is quite conceivable that a similar voluntary system of monetary contributions would, if compulsory taxation were abolished, supply the necessities of government; but it would be a most iniquitous system, pressing heavily on the generous, and allowing the niggardly to escape. We all, in fact, admit that it would be entirely improper to replace the income-tax form by the begging-letter. For precisely the same reasons it is entirely improper that enlistment for home defence should depend on the voluntary sacrifice of the patriotic minority, while the careless and worthless majority elude their duty.It is, moreover, deeply humiliating to the national pride to see the protection of our shores, and the existence of our Empire, dependent on the response made to advertisements, to platform appeals, to music-hall songs, and to the kisses so generously proffered by popular actresses.

Even Mr. Herbert Spencer and the extreme individualists of his school admitted that national defence is a proper function of the State, and that a government may rightly use compulsory powers to safeguard the community from attack.

But Mr. Arnold Bennett and the semi-socialists of theDaily Chronicleand theDaily News—although they are filled with horror and indignation if it is suggested that an artisan should be allowed to choose whether or not he will enjoy the advantages of the Insurance Act; or that a collier, if he wishes to do so, should be permitted to work for more than eight hours a day; or that a labourer should be exempted from persecution as a blackleg if he prefers to remain outside the fold of a trade union—are fired with a long-dormant zeal for individual liberty, if it is urged that a young man's citizenship is incomplete until he has been called and prepared to defend his home and his country in case of need.

Their collectivism is, in fact, a peculiarly perverted or inverted type of individualism. It insists on the right of the individual, if unemployed, to come to the State for work; if in poverty, to come to the State for relief; if ignorant, to come to the State for education: but it strenuously resists the exercise by the State of its reciprocal claim on the service of the individual. It is engrossed by the contemplation of the rights of the individual and the duties of the State; it ignores the rights of the State and the duties of the individual.

It is true that our voluntary system of military service has done wonders in this war, far more indeed than could ever have been expected of it; but this does not alter the fact that it iswrong in principle. It is quite conceivable that a similar voluntary system of monetary contributions would, if compulsory taxation were abolished, supply the necessities of government; but it would be a most iniquitous system, pressing heavily on the generous, and allowing the niggardly to escape. We all, in fact, admit that it would be entirely improper to replace the income-tax form by the begging-letter. For precisely the same reasons it is entirely improper that enlistment for home defence should depend on the voluntary sacrifice of the patriotic minority, while the careless and worthless majority elude their duty.

It is, moreover, deeply humiliating to the national pride to see the protection of our shores, and the existence of our Empire, dependent on the response made to advertisements, to platform appeals, to music-hall songs, and to the kisses so generously proffered by popular actresses.

It will be no small compensation for the immeasurable losses of this war if the lofty old-English ideals of duty and service are restored to their rightful place in our political system, and if in respect of the essentials of national existence, viz., defence of the realm and obedience to law, we completely eliminate and frankly repudiate—as we have already done in the sphere of taxation—the enervating one-sided individualism of the voluntary principle.

For a long time past there has existed in this country a sort of smouldering rebellion known as passive resistance. It is difficult to say when it had its origin; but probably it could be traced back to the Reformation. For it is merely a veiled manifestation of that anarchic individualism and that morbid conscientiousness—the extremes of qualities admirable in moderation—which first became formidable in England on the break-up of mediæval Christendom. In recent times it has displayed itself in many new forms, and on an increasingly large scale, until now, in this great crisis of our fate, it has grown to be a serious menace to the national unity, and a grave danger to the very existence of the State. We have in our midst at the present day—to mention only the leading specimens—Ritualists who refuse to obey judgments of the Privy Council, or to heed injunctions issued by bishops appointed by the Crown; Anti-Vivisectionists who resistregulations regarded as essential by the health authorities; Undenominationalists who decline to pay rates necessary to maintain the system of education established by law; Christian Scientists whose criminal neglect in the case of dangerous diseases not only renders them guilty of homicide, but also imperils the welfare of the whole community; Suffragists who defy all law comprehensively, on the ground that the legislature from which it emanates is not constituted as they think it ought to be; Trade Unionists who combine to stultify any Act of Parliament which conflicts with the rules of their own organizations; and finally, a No-Conscription Fellowship whose members expressly "deny the right of Government to say, 'Youshallbear arms,'" and threaten to "oppose every effort to introduce compulsory military service into Great Britain."[42]Here is a pretty collection of aliens from the commonwealth! It contains examples of almost every variety of anti-social eccentricity. So diverse and conflicting are the types of passive resistance represented that there is only one thing that can be predicated of all the members of all the groups, and it is this—that they are rebels.

FOOTNOTE:[42]No-Conscription Manifesto printed in full in theMorning Post, May 31st, 1915.

[42]No-Conscription Manifesto printed in full in theMorning Post, May 31st, 1915.

The essential preliminary to any useful discussion of passive resistance is the clear recognition of the fact that it is rebellion, and nothing less. To say, or admit, this is not necessarily to condemn it; for there are few persons to-day, I suppose, who would contend that rebellion is never justifiable. All it asserts is that passive resistance has to be judged by the same measures and according to the same standards as any other kind of revolt against constituted political authority. It is all the more needful to make this plain because some of the milder but more muddled among the resisters try to shut their eyes to the fact that they are rebels. They claim to be sheep and not goats. They call themselves Socialists; they profess an abnormal loyalty to the idea of the State; they protest their devotion to the Great Society; they ask to be allowed to make all sorts of sacrifices to the community; they announce their willingness to do anything—except the one thing which the Government requires them to do. The exception is fatal to their claim. "To obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." The State does not and cannot submit the validity of its enactments to the private judgment of its subjects.It expresses and enforces the general will, and it dare not leave to the choice, or even to the conscience, of the individual an option as to which of its commands shall be obeyed, and which not. To do so would be to loose the bands of society, to bring to an end the reign of law, and to plunge the community once again into that primal chaos of anarchy from which in the beginning it painfully emerged. The State demands, and must necessarily demand, implicit obedience. From the loyal it receives it. Those from whom it does not receive it are rebels, no matter how conscientious they may be, how lofty their moral elevation, how sublimely passive their resistance. So far as their disobedience extends they are the enemies of organized society, disrupters of the commonwealth, subverters of government, the allies and confederates of criminals and anarchists. It is worth noting, moreover, how easily their passive resistance develops into more active forms of rebellion. Not for long was the Suffragist content to remain merely defensive in revolt; soon she emerged with whips for Cabinet Ministers, hammers for windows, and bombs for churches. Resistant Trade Unionists rapidly and generally slide into sabotage and personal violence. The No-Conscriptionists of Ireland threatenthrough Mr. Byrne, M.P., for Dublin, that "if Conscription is forced on Ireland, it will be resisted by drilled and armed forces"[43]—a delightfully Hibernian type of anti-militarism, which, nevertheless, throws a lurid light on the real meaning of the movement. It is seen to be rebellion, open, naked and unashamed.

FOOTNOTE:[43]SeeTimes, November 22nd, 1915.

[43]SeeTimes, November 22nd, 1915.

Passive resistance, then, is rebellion; but, as has already been admitted, it is not on that account necessarily unjustifiable. An established government may be so hopelessly iniquitous that it ought to be overthrown; an organized society may be so irremediably corrupt that it merits disruption; duly enacted laws may, when judged by moral standards, be so flagrantly unjust as to demand the resistance of all good men. There is no need to labour the point: actual examples crowd upon the mind. Who would condemn the revolt of the Greeks against Turkish rule? Who would contend that the degenerate society of the later Bourbon monarchy did not deserve dissolution? Who would maintain that John Hampden and Oliver Cromwell had no moral warrant for their resistanceto Charles I, or their successors to James II. We may freely allow that in these cases, and in many similar ones, there existed on ethical grounds a right, or more strictly a communal duty, to rebel. Few would now proclaim with Filmer the divine right of any government to exact obedience quite irrespective of the wishes or the interests of its subjects. Still fewer would agree with Hobbes that an original contract precludes for ever all opposition to sovereign political authority. The ground on which political obligation is asserted has been shifted. The State is recognized as "an institution for the promotion of the common good," and it is admitted that if it ceases to promote the common good the obligation to obey it is transformed into an obligation to reform it, or even to

Shatter it to bits—and thenRemould it nearer to the heart's desire.

Shatter it to bits—and then

Remould it nearer to the heart's desire.

But, viewed thus, the right of rebellion assumes an aspect of awful responsibility, perhaps the most tremendous within the sphere of politics that the mind can conceive. For rebellion means the breaking-up of the existing order, the throwing of institutions into the melting-pot, the letting loose of incalculable forces of discord and destruction,the suspension of law, the return to chaos, in the hope that out of the welter a new and better cosmos—one more fitted to promote the common good—may be evolved. Every rebel, or prospective rebel, whether of the passive or the active type, ought to ponder well the logical consequences of his revolt against authority, ought to consider the inevitable results that would flow from the general adoption of the principles which he professes, ought to decide whether or not he really desires to overthrow the polity under which he lives, ought to ask if he and his fellows are able to face with any serious hope of success the colossal task of constructing a new society on the ruins of the old. Now the historic rebels to whom I have referred above by way of example—the Greek Nationalists, the French Revolutionists, the English Puritans and Whigs—did not hesitate to acknowledge the nature of their acts, and were not unprepared to face their consequences. They did not deceive themselves, or attempt to deceive others, by false professions of loyalty. The Greeks proclaimed their undying hostility to the Turks, fought them, shook off their yoke, and erected a national kingdom on the ruins of Turkish tyranny. The French Revolutionists openly declared war upon the oldregime, eradicated it by means of the guillotine, and established a republic where it had been. Similarly the English Puritans repudiated allegiance to Charles I, brought him to the block, and instituted the Commonwealth in his place; while the Whigs drove out James II and set up the constitutional monarchy of William and Mary. One can respect heroic rebels of these types. They were honest and open; they attacked great abuses; they took great risks, and they achieved notable results. Very different are our modern rebels. They profess with nauseating unction loyalty to the State whose dominion they are undermining; they claim to be exceptionally virtuous members of the Society whose unity they are destroying; above all they continue to demand with insolent effrontery the protection of the very law and the very courts whose authority they are denying and defying. They can be freed from the charge of the most revolting hypocrisy only on the plea that "they know not what they do."

It is granted, then, that rebellion may sometimes be not only a justifiable act, but also a bounden public duty. Three examples havebeen given which perhaps may be allowed to have illustrated and confirmed this view. It will be noted, however, that in each of the cases cited the revolt was that of an oppressed community against a government in which it had no part or lot, and over which it had no constitutional control. Rebellion against a democracy on the part of members of that democracy stands on a widely different footing. It is treachery as well as insurrection. One can, indeed, conceive circumstances which would justify it; but they would be rare and exceptional, and that for two reasons. First, in a democracy constitutional means are provided for the alteration of law and even for the remodelling of the form of government. Secondly, if a democratic government is undermined by disobedience, discredited by successful defiance, destroyed by treasonable betrayal on the part of its own professed supporters, there is nothing to take its place; the community is bound either to drift into anarchy, or to revert to some sort of tyranny. Let us consider these two points in turn. (1) The essence of democracy is government according to the will of the majority. This almost necessarily implies government in opposition to the will of one or more minorities. Butdemocratic minorities have a remedy—and it is the peculiar virtue of democracy to provide it. It is this: by means of argument, persuasion, and appeal; by press agitation and platform campaign; through organization and combination, to convert themselves into a majority. The whole of our English political system, the very existence of our democratic constitution, depends upon the recognition and acceptance of this rule of the game. If the will of the majority is not to be regarded as authoritative, measures for reform of the franchise, extension of the suffrage, and adjustment of the electoral machine have no rational meaning at all. They are merely vanity and vexation of spirit. What matter who makes the laws, or what laws are made, if laws are not to be implicitly obeyed? Our extremists want to have it both ways: they want to enforce law with majestic severity as "the Will of the People," when they are in a majority; but they also want to defy law with conscientious obstinacy as a violation of personal freedom when they are in a minority. Some members of "The Union of Democratic Control" are also members of the "No-Conscription Fellowship"! Could inconsistency or muddle-headedness go further? Those who wish to rule as part of a majority mustbe prepared to be overruled as part of a minority. If minorities, instead of employing the constitutional machinery placed at their disposal to secure the repeal of obnoxious laws, are going to resist and rebel whenever the majority does something of which they strongly disapprove, there is an end of democratic government altogether, and a reversion to the state of nature. T. H. Green in hisPrinciples of Political Obligationputs the case clearly and well. He asks this very question, What shall an individual do when he is faced by a command of a democratic government which he believes to be wrong? He replies: "In a country like ours with a popular government and settled methods of enacting and repealing laws, the answer of common sense is simple and sufficient. He should do all he can by legal methods to get the command cancelled, but till it is cancelled, he should conform to it. The common good must suffer more from resistance to a law or to the ordinance of a legal authority than from the individual's conformity to the particular law or ordinance that is bad, until its repeal can be obtained."[44]Here we have the true ground of the duty of obedience. Theantagonistic principle of passive resistance provides a charter for criminals and anarchists.

(2) The second point needs little enlargement. It is clear from many examples in both ancient and modern history that if a monarchy is overthrown an aristocracy can take its place, and that if an aristocracy is dispossessed of power, room is made for a democracy. But what do our rebels against democracy propose to substitute for the sovereign will of the majority, if they succeed by resistance in reducing it to impotence? Possibly they hope that their own exalted will may prevail. Let them not flatter themselves by any such vain dream. Even assuming what is improbable, viz., that they remain united among themselves, can they suppose that their example of successful revolt will remain without imitators, or that their anti-social doctrines will never be applied again? If they will not render obedience when they are in a minority, who will obey them even if they have a majority behind them? Government will cease; the reign of order will be at an end; Society will be dissolved amid "red ruin and the breaking-up of laws."

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