AND ANOTHER THING
Inspiring courage to mitigate ferocity
PAUL JOHNSON
The most moving images in the newspa- pers last week were contained in the reports of the inquest into the deaths of four young SAS servicemen during the Iraqi war. Dropped behind the Iraqi lines, the SAS performed notable deeds not only in destroying Scud missiles — thus helping to keep Israel out of the war — but in relaying information which had a percepti- ble impact on the success and speed of the campaign. They risked not only death but torture, and they endured the most appalling sufferings from the bitter desert winter. Those who died, and those who sur- vived, both undoubtedly rendered the state some service, and I hope this has been suit- ably recognised. One cannot be sure, for so many of the doings of the SAS are neces- sarily surrounded in mystery, at the time and for long after, and living members of the force cannot be identified. But I salute their valour and devotion to duty. May those who fell rest in peace, and may those who survive live to a ripe old age and live to recount their exploits into the second half of the 21st century.
The more I learn about the world and the way it works, the more I admire courage and recognise the need for it if we are to keep any kind of semblance of civili- sation going. Dr Johnson seized on this point with his customary acuteness, in a famous conversation at dinner in the Tem- ple, in 1778. 'Every man,' he said, 'thinks meanly of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been at sea.' If a grandee judge like Lord Mansfield, he added, 'were in a company of General Offi- cers or Admirals who have been in service, he would shrink; he'd wish to creep under the table'. No one would choose to hear a lecture in philosophy, even by Socrates himself, if the alternative were Charles XII laying his hand on his sword and saying 'Follow me!' And why? 'Because, Sir, the profession of soldiers and sailors has the dignity of danger. Mankind reverences those who have got over fear, which is so general a weakness.'
I don't recall doing anything during my own military service which required partic- ular courage, except occasionally standing up to superior officers who were behaving unreasonably. But I did a good deal of mountaineering, including advanced rock- climbing, which certainly involved a large element of fear on occasion. But courage? No one asks anyone to climb mountains for fun. A lot of the time I went solo-climbing, which is needlessly risky and deplored by the sport's authorities. Indeed, I once near- ly killed myself in this fashion. But that was an exercise in folly, not courage. In moun- taineering, fear is multiplied by the imagi- nation, which feeds on height, depth and scale. That is why climbs are classified not only by severity but by exposure. An unimaginative climber, with a good head for heights, which many young people pos- sess naturally, requires little courage to risk his neck, merely animal spirits.
I used to think that physical and moral courage were two quite different qualities. Now I believe them to be inextricably con- nected. Someone who takes a huge risk on the spur of the moment shows not courage but activity. Courage enters with reflection, a weighing of risks and a determination to discount them. Whether the danger con- sists of a flying bullet or invective or the disapproval of one's peers or friends is a secondary matter. The miseries of the 20th century — and no epoch in human history has been so miserable — spring chiefly not from cowardice on the battlefield but cow- ardice in the council chamber, the newspa- per office, the salon, places where opinions are formed and policies determined. The Bloomsbury folk, led by the ambivalent Keynes and the odious Strachey, made a positive virtue of cowardice — photographs nearly always show them languid and supine in deckchairs — and laid the intel- lectual groundwork for the policy of Appeasement which made the second world war inevitable.
When Hitler was effectively beaten, in 'Suspect package, close the network.' 1944-45, it was moral cowardice on our part which led Stalin into the heart of Europe and so destroyed the lives and happiness of an entire generation of East Europeans and prolonged the degradation of Russia for another half-century, with unpre- dictable consequences which will be with us for many decades. Of course, the democra- cies were war-weary. The generals and their soldiers wanted to get home and did not fancy a confrontation with the Red Army. Roosevelt was ignorant, weak and dying, Churchill a lone voice. The press and broadcasters were overwhelmingly pro- Soviet under 'Uncle Joe', as they called him. It is a vital part of moral courage to display a willingness to finish a necessary job, even in weariness and fear. That we did not do in 1944-45, thus manufacturing an immense tragedy for the world. Indeed, we did not do it last year in Iraq. The State Department and the Foreign Office lacked the courage to go the last mile and per- suaded their governments to let Saddam Hussein off the hook. So he was left not merely in power but with his apparatus of tyranny largely intact, to murder thousands more. So much of what those brave young men of the SAS died for was thrown away by the diplomats and politicians.
The essence of moral cowardice is fear of unpopularity. It is a particularly miserable weakness because the unpopularity which has to be endured is usually short-term any- way. But it is a common phenomenon in the world, in politics and the media, in art and letters, in academia, in the law and business. In British society, which is paral- ysed from top to bottom with moral cow- ardice, it is rare indeed for someone with genuine courage to be put in charge of any of our great institutions. It is even harder for them to stay there, doing what they know to be right in the face of abuse by the bien-pensants. It is amazing, looking back on it, that Mrs Thatcher ever got to 10 Downing Street, still more so that she last- ed over a decade, before she was dragged down in an exhibition of Tory cowardice which recalled Munich, and worse. Since her strong hand was removed, the country has accelerated into a general decline which is terrifying to observe. In human societies, there is no substitute for leader- ship, and that requires courage of a high order. We will have to provide it again, if we expect brave young men in the SAS to go on fighting, and dying, for us.
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