LETTERS TO THE EDITOR.
MACHIAVELLI IN MODERN POLITICS.
[To THE EDITOR. OF THE " SFECTATOR."1 SIR,—In your article on Machiavelli, in the Spectator of August 7th, you say :—" The distinction at which Mr. Greenwood hints—that between domestic and foreign policy —is, in our judgment, no real distinction at all We do not think that the line of moral demarcation" (between tolerable and intolerable Machiavellism) "is to be found in the realm of politics, for we are convinced that, in that sphere, honesty is literally the best policy. The real line of demarcation lies at the point where war begins or is inevitable." From this statement your readers are at liberty to infer that I am a preacher of dishonesty in foreign politics. But before they adopt that idea it is right that they should know what justification there is for it ; how much, how little. Therefore, I ask you to print a few lines from what say on the subject dn the current number of Cosmopolis. If you think that in what follows I make any improper omission or suppression, you will, I hope, correct me.
I say that the particular doctrine, which has been so much -debated, comes to this, when rightly and fairly expressed, as it seldom is : If nothing less will help to secure the existence of your State in freedom, you may do any- thing that a wild animal may do—knowing nothing of God, or devil, or sentiment, or morals, or any sort of ,point erlicmneur—for his life and liberty. And you may do anything that a wild animal would do if he had a finer -cunning and no more conscience. That is Machiavelli's teaching. It is appeal to what Machiavelli himself calls "the law of the beasts." And I say (and you seem to agree with me) that resort to war is resort to this law of the beasts. -" War is a return, by consent, to the Natural Order,—the same that is seen at work in the tooth-and-claw rivalries of the animal kingdom. In them is no morality ; and how much of it is there, if there be none in Patriotism, in the stratagem and havoc of war ? War, when it is most honourable, is competition in destroying life, and limb, and goods, not only by monstrous violence, but by craft, guile, betrayal." And the whole of this business, I say, lies with the ruler, who commands it to be done; not with the soldier, who would not be innocent but for the ruler's command. Next I say that "there is" (meaning, generally is) "a distinctly existing state of war before a blow is struck: storm before the light- ning strikes. And anything done in that period to avert a dangerous conflict that may be done in carrying it on, is justified. We are assuming all along, remember, that we speak of a nation that is menaced with destruction, as a weak State by a strong one A state of war has commenced which may have ruin for result, and, if so, it will proceed to it by means of the most dreadful slaughter, plus the practice of all manner of lies, deceits, ambuscades, and betrayals. Why may not the rulers of the endangered country end the matter, if they can, by lies, deceits, and ambuscades, minus the slaughter ? Why must they rather risk the existence of a settled and benign civilisation P I say that I do not know."
For it cannot be that "practical statesmanship is unlicensed to work by the natural law, though the soldier may do so. In all civilised States the ruler's word is the soldier's warrant ; he has no other; and a man may lawfully do what he may command to be done, or any part of it. The authority is with the responsibility, and the responsibility is with this ruling power. So that as long as the law of the beasts is obligatory or permitted for the safety of the State, the ruler is not only at liberty to employ it in all its branches, but he alone may do so in any branch properly. But he may never do so beyond the need."
Without intending for a moment to apologise for this argument (which is only a part of the whole), I call attentiea to the limiting words : "There is a distinctly existing state of war before a blow is struck ; " "All along, remember, we speak of a State menaced with destruction ; " and what is at stake is "the existence of a settled and benign civilisa- tion." See also the last se ntence of the foregoing paragraph. —I am, Sir, &c.,