Discussing War and Radical Peace

"If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud."
Arlo Guthrie "Alice's Restaurant"

One of the pleasures of living in Wilmington, Delaware is participating in the book discussion group that is sponsored by the Wilmington Library Institute. The program is celebrating its twentieth anniversary. The usual moderator during that time has been Thomas Leitch, a professor in the English Department at the University of Delaware.

Tom is one of the world’s great talkers, and it is always fun to listen to him – even if one has not read the book and so has only the slightest idea of what it is about (which I confess to having done on numerous occasions).

Since the group meets on weekdays at noon, it is not always convenient for me to get away from the office to attend. The discussion this summer focuses on World War I, so I am making a point both to read the books in advance and to attend the discussion.

The first book in the series was Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August. Published in 1962 and awarded the Pulitzer Prize for general non-fiction in 1963, The Guns of August recounts the events of August 1914 in which the major continental powers of Europe mobilized their massive armies and launched them into a war that was larger and more terrible than any in memory to that time.

One common characteristic about the participants in the group is that they are on the older side. I am no spring chicken, but my participation does tend to reduce the average age. We were all younger during the Vietnam War, and many share a certain viscerally negative reaction to all things military and related to war.

I remember from the Vietnam War days a story made the rounds about a World War II commander who sought permission from the Pentagon to destroy the papers filling several drawers of a filing cabinet. The response from Washington – granting permission to destroy the documents after making copies in triplicate – was regarded, at the time I first heard about it, as evidence of the intrinsic wastefulness and folly of military culture. Only years later did I realize that the response from Washington was a joke and a very clever one at that.

With such a group it is necessary to go through a catechism of sorts in order to get to a substantive discussion about military matters, even from a historical perspective.

• Yes, I agree that war is an obscenely criminal waste of life and resources that could be put to better and more productive uses.
• Yes, the existence of armies makes war more likely in the sense that to a man with a hammer everything looks like a nail (if you ignore the deterrent effect).
• Yes, the officer corps in the military are eager for wars because they provide occasions to distinguish themselves and earn professional advancement – not the least of which is combat certification (but few want to fight a losing or unpopular war).
• Yes, the military command structure and the culture of the chain of command foster blind obedience at the expense of independence of thought and action (although a shared doctrine and analytical approach can foster coordination among the disparate elements of a vast organization like an army, and although the chain of command emphasizes the location of responsibility and obligation, it does not intrinsically stifle flexibility and creativity).

But, history has shown, and current experience confirms,

• that wars will continue to occur,
• that the preparation for war is the best deterrent of war,
• that the eagerness to avoid war can encourage bullies to become more aggressive,
• that the professional military officers are best suited by training and experience to direct the operation of the military organization on the missions identified by the civilian government, and
• that although victories are also costly and tragic, and although war can have unforeseen consequences, some good can come from them – such as American independence, the forced abdication of Napoleon and the resulting restoration of peace in Europe, the preservation of the American union, the end of American slavery, and the termination of the Nazi regime.

In 1860 America had little fear of a foreign war. The nation occupied a broad swathe across the continent. Its contiguous neighbors north and south were non-threatening, and wide oceans separated it from the other potentially hostile powers of the world. Steam navigation had much reduced the size of the globe, but the breadth of the oceans represented a substantial impediment to the logistical support of the army of the size that would be needed to fight on American soil.

America’s army consisted of about 16,000 officers and men (the post office department was larger), most of whom were stationed west of the Mississippi River to prevent violence between the Indian tribes and the white settlers who coveted western lands. The army had suppressed the violence between pro- and anti-slavery advocates who vied for control of the Kansas Territory. The army also was present in the Utah Territory to assure the continued peaceable behavior of the Mormon settlers there who defied the authority of the Federal government. The Mormons had attacked and destroyed the army’s supply column, which both embarrassed and inconvenienced the contingent sent to pacify the Mormons. After a harsh winter on short rations, only careful negotiations averted retaliation.

America also had a radical peace movement whose adherents opposed war and believed that the use of violence was not justified under any circumstances, including defending oneself from attack, even from pirates. Inasmuch as violence was necessary to maintain slavery, those who held radical views concerning peace also tended to oppose slavery.

The events of 1859 through 1861 illuminated the growing incompatibility of the anti-war position with the anti-slavery position. These events included the John Brown raid in 1859; the election of 1860 with the repeated admonition that the election of a Republican president was cause for secession; and the secession crisis of the winter of 1860-1861.

Even as the war was starting, the leadership of the American Peace Society anguished over the facts at their annual meeting in Boston in May 1861, after the firing on Fort Sumter. The support for the American Peace Society was diminishing throughout the period. For the year ended May 1859, just before the John Brown raid, contributions to the Society totaled about $4600. In the year ended May 1861, concluding just after the firing on Fort Sumter, contributions had fallen to a little over one third of that amount.