THE PSYCHOLOar OF WAR S7i
tation and application are mixed with all the instincts connected with war.
I in no wise minimize the place of intelligence in the mighty march of what we call civilization, but it has always followed the lines mapped out by instinct, impulse and human sentiments. Why do we not aU abandon war? Every form of human intelligence is against it. Why do we not abandon our ancient and barbarous system of treating crimi- nals? Psychological, biological and sociological sciences are against it. Simply because the accumulated forces of opposing instincts and senti- ments are not yet strong enough to overcome the massive accumulation on the other side.
Such a well-known authority as McDougall, speaking of Central Borneo, says in his " Social Psychology " :
. . . villages and tribes live in a state of chronic warfare: all are kept in con- stant fear of attack, whole villages are often exterminated. This perpetual war- fare seems to be almost wholly and directly due to the uncomplicated operation of the instinct of pugnacity. If one asks of an intelligent chief why he keeps up this senseless practise of going on the warpath, the best reason he can give is that unless he does so, his neighbors wiU not respect him and his people. How shaU we begin to understand the prevalence of such a state of affairs, if we re- gard man as a rational creature guided only by intelligent self-interest, and if we neglect to take account of his instincts! And it is not among barbarous or savage peoples only that the instinct of pugnacity works in this way. The his- tory of Christendom is largely the history of devastating wars from which few individuals or societies have reaped any immediate benefit, and in the causation of which the instinct of pugnacity has played a leading part. In our own age the same instinct makes of Europe an armed camp occupied by twelve million soldiers, the support of whom is a heavy burden on aU the peoples; and we see how, more instantly than ever before, a whole nation may be moved by the com- bative instinct — a slight to the flag, or an insulting remark in some foreign newspaper, sends a wave of angry emotion sweeping across the country, and two nations are ready to rush into a war that can not fail to be disastrous to both of them. . . . The Germanic tribes were perhaps more pugnacious and possessed of the military virtues in a higher degree than any other people that has existed before or since. They were the most terrible enemies, as Julius OeBsar found; they could never be subdued because they fought, not merely to gain any specific ends, but because they loved fighting.
All history affords evidence of this smouldering war-volcano. Hun- dreds of individuals said to me on the outbreak of hostilities in Europe : " Is it not awful, f oolish^ unchristian, and barbarous ? Surely we could never do such an irrational thing.'* Since that time most of these same people have caught the war fever and believe we should take a part in the war. This is simply common psychology. At one time cool intelligence speaks, at another strong feelings. The outbreak of our own Civil War will illustrate this law. The lions of the north and south were fully aroused. Brother was ready to butcher brother in the name of justice and right. Ministers outraged every form of human
�� �
