Produced by Nick Wall, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net FREEDOM IN SERVICE SIX ESSAYS ON MATTERS CONCERNING BRITAIN'S SAFETY AND GOOD GOVERNMENT By F. J. C. HEARNSHAW, M.A., LL.D. PROFESSOR OF MEDIÆVAL HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1916 TO THE GLORIOUS AND IMMORTAL MEMORY OF LORD ROBERTS CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE ix I.--THE ANCIENT DEFENCE OF ENGLAND I. UNIVERSAL OBLIGATION TO SERVE 1 II. THE OLD ENGLISH MILITIA 4 III. MEDIÆVAL REGULATIONS 6 IV. TUDOR AND STUART DEVELOPMENTS 9 V. THE LAST TWO CENTURIES 12 VI. CONCLUSION 15 II.--COMPULSORY SERVICE AND LIBERTY I. THE PLEA OF FREEDOM 17 II. THE TERM "LIBERTY" 18 III. LIBERTY AS FREEDOM FROM FOREIGN CONTROL 20 IV. LIBERTY AS SYNONYMOUS WITH RESPONSIBLE GOVERNMENT 21 V. LIBERTY AS ABSENCE OF RESTRAINT 23 VI. LIBERTY AS OPPORTUNITY FOR SERVICE 27 III.--THE VOLUNTARY PRINCIPLE I. THE IDEA OF VOLUNTARISM 30 II. ITS ESTABLISHMENT 31 III. THE RESULT 33 IV. THE PRESENT SITUATION 36 V. THE FUTURE 38 IV.--PASSIVE RESISTANCE I. THE NEW PERIL 43 II. PASSIVE RESISTANCE AS REBELLION 45 III. THE RIGHT OF REBELLION 47 IV. REBELLION AGAINST A DEMOCRACY 50 V. THE DUTY OF THE STATE 55 V.--CHRISTIANITY AND WAR I. A CONFLICT OF CONVICTIONS 58 II. THE RELIGION OF THE BIBLE 61 III. THE DOCTRINE AND PRACTICE OF THE CHURCH 63 IV. FORCE AS A MORAL INSTRUMENT 66 V. THE IDEAL OF THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT 69 VI. THE PACIFICIST SUCCESSION 74 VII. CONCLUSION 78 VI.--THE STATE AND ITS RIVALS I. THE IDEA OF THE STATE IN ENGLAND 81 II. THE RIVALS OF THE STATE 87 III. WHAT THE STATE IS AND DOES 95 IV. THE SPHERE OF NATIONAL SERVICE 98 PREFACE The first three essays in this little book appeared originally as special articles in the _Morning Post_. I am greatly indebted to the Editor of that paper for his courteous and ready permission to reprint them. The "Freedom" dealt with in these essays is political freedom, and the "Service" advocated is universal military service. These limitations are due to the fact that the original newspaper articles were contributions to the controversy respecting methods of enlistment which took place during the autumn of 1915. The remaining three essays appear now for the first time. They have a more general scope, although they are vitally connected with the theme of their predecessors. The essay on Passive Resistance has special reference to the opposition offered by the No-Conscription Fellowship to the principle of compulsory military service; but its argument applies equally well to the older antagonists of the authority of the State. The essay on Christianity and War tries to meet those conscientious objections to military service which form the basis of the propaganda of the Fellowship of Reconciliation; but it deals with the problem in the broadest manner possible within the limits of its space. The concluding essay, on the State and its Rivals, emphasizes the imperative need that the authority of the Democratic National State should be recognized and accepted if internal anarchy is to be avoided, and if the peace and well-being of the World are to be secured. F. J. C. HEARNSHAW. King's College, Strand, W.C. _January 12th, 1916._ FREEDOM IN SERVICE I THE ANCIENT DEFENCE OF ENGLAND[1] [Reprinted, with the addition of References, from the _Morning Post_ of August 20th, 1915.] I. UNIVERSAL OBLIGATION TO SERVE "The military system of the Anglo-Saxons is based upon universal service, under which is to be understood the duty of every freeman to respond in person to the summons to arms, to equip himself at his own expense, and to support himself at his own charge during the campaign."[2] With these words Gneist, the German historian of the English Constitution, begins his account of the early military system of our ancestors. He is, of course, merely stating a matter of common knowledge to all students of Teutonic institutions. What he says of the Anglo-Saxon is equally true of the Franks, the Lombards, the Visigoths, and other kindred peoples.[3] But it is a matter of such fundamental importance that I will venture, even at the risk of tedious repetition, to give three parallel quotations from English authorities. Grose, in his _Military Antiquities_, says: "By the Saxon laws every freeman of an age capable of bearing arms, and not incapacitated by any bodily infirmity, was in case of a foreign invasion, internal insurrection, or other emergency obliged to join the army."[4] Freeman, in his _Norman Conquest_, speaks of "the right and duty of every free Englishman to be ready for the defence of the Commonwealth with arms befitting his own degree in the Commonwealth."[5] Finally, Stubbs, in his _Constitutional History_, clearly states the case in the words: "The host was originally the people in arms, the whole free population, whether landowners or dependents, their sons, servants, and tenants. Military service was a personal obligation ... the obligation of freedom"; and again: "Every man who was in the King's peace was liable to be summoned to the host at the King's call."[6] There is no ambiguity or uncertainty about these pronouncements. The Old English "fyrd," or militia, was the nation in arms. The obligation to serve was a personal one. It had no relation to the possession of land; in fact it dated back to an age in which the folk was still migratory and without a fixed territory at all. It was incumbent upon all able-bodied males between the ages of sixteen and sixty. Failure to obey the summons was punished by a heavy fine known as "fyrdwite."[7] There is another point of prime significance. Universal service was, it is true, an obligation. But it was more: it was the _mark of freedom_. Not to be summoned stamped a man as a slave, a serf, or an alien. The famous "Assize of Arms" ends with the words: "_Et praecepit rex quod nullus reciperetur ad sacramentum armorum nisi liber homo._"[8] A summons was a right quite as much as a duty. The English were a brave and martial race, proud of their ancestral liberty. Not to be called to defend it when it was endangered, not to be allowed to carry arms to maintain the integrity of the fatherland, was a degradation which branded a man as unfree. FOOTNOTES: [1] This chapter has been issued as a pamphlet by the National Service League, 72, Victoria Street, S.W. [2] Gneist, R. _Englische Verfassungsgeschichte_, p. 4. [3] Cf. the Frankish Edict of A.D. 864: "Ad defensionem patriæ omnes sine ulla excusatione veniant." (Let all without any excuse come for the defence of the fatherland.) [4] Grose, F. _Military Antiquities_, vol. i, p. 1. [5] Freeman, E. _Norman Conquest_, vol. iv, p. 681. [6] Stubbs, W. _Const. Hist._, vol. i, pp. 208, 212. [7] Oman, C. W. C. _Art of War in the Middle Ages_, p. 67. [8] Stubbs, W. _Select Charters_, p. 156. (The King orders that no one except a freeman shall be admitted to the oath of arms.) II. THE OLD ENGLISH MILITIA This primitive national militia was not, it must be admitted, a very efficient force. It lacked coherence and training; it was deficient both in arms and in discipline; it could not be kept together for long campaigns. The Kings, therefore, from the first supplemented it by means of a band of personal followers, a bodyguard of professional warriors, well and uniformly armed, and practised in the art of war. Nevertheless, the main defence of the country rested with the "fyrd." The Danish invasions put it to the severest test and revealed its military defects. It was one of the most notable achievements of Alfred to reorganize and reconstitute it. Thus reformed, with the support of an ever-growing body of King's thegns, it wrought great deeds in the days of Alfred, Edward and Athelstan, and recovered for England security and peace. In the days of their weaker successors, however, all the forces that England could muster failed to keep out Sweyn and Canute, and, above all, failed to hold the field at Hastings. The Norman Conquest might have been expected to involve the extinction of the English militia. For feudalism as developed by William I was strongest on its military side, and William's main force was the levy of his feudal tenants. But quite the contrary happened. The Norman monarchs and their Angevin successors were, as a matter of fact, mortally afraid of their great feudal tenants, the barons and knights through whom the Conquest had been effected. Hence, as English kings, they assiduously maintained and fostered Anglo-Saxon institutions, and particularly the "fyrd," which they used as a counterpoise to the feudal levy. They even called upon it for Continental service and took it across the Channel to defend their French provinces.[9] Thus in 1073 it fought for William I in Maine; in 1094 William II summoned it to Hastings for an expedition into Normandy; in 1102 it aided Henry I to suppress the formidable revolt of Robert of Belesme, Earl of Shrewsbury; in 1138 it drove back the Scots at the Battle of the Standard; and in 1174 it defeated and captured William the Lion at Alnwick. So valuable, indeed, did it prove to be that Henry II resolved to place it upon a permanent footing and clearly to define its position. With that view he issued in 1181 his "Assize of Arms." FOOTNOTE: [9] Stubbs, W. _Select Charters_, p. 83; and _Const. Hist._, vol. i, p. 469. III. MEDIÆVAL REGULATIONS Into the details of the "Assize of Arms" it is unnecessary here to enter. Are they not written in every advanced text-book of English history? Three things, however, are to be noted. First, that the duty and privilege of military service are still bound up with freedom; no unfree man is to be admitted to the oath of arms. Secondly, that upon freemen the obligation is still universal: "all burgesses and the whole community of freemen (_tota communa liberorum hominum_) are to provide themselves with doublets, iron skullcaps, and lances." Thirdly, that, closely as freedom had during the centuries of feudalism become associated with tenancy of land, the national militia had not been involved in feudal meshes: the obligation of service remained still personal, not territorial. In 1205 John, fearing an invasion of the Kingdom, called to arms all the militia sworn and equipped under the Assize, _i.e._, all the freemen of the realm. Short-shrift was to be given to any who disobeyed the summons: "_Qui vero ad summonitionem non venerit habeatur pro capitali inimico domini regis et regni_" (He who does not come in response to the summons shall be regarded as a capital enemy of the king and kingdom.) The penalty was to be the peculiarly appropriate one of reduction to perpetual servitude. The disobedient and disloyal subject who made the great refusal would _ipso facto_ divest himself of the distinguishing mark of his freedom.[10] Henry III in 1223 and 1231 made similar levies. In 1252, in a notable writ for enforcing Watch and Ward and the Assize of Arms, he extended the obligation of service to villans and lowered the age limit to fifteen. Edward I reaffirmed these new departures in his well-known Statute of Winchester (1285), in which it is enacted that "every man have in his house harness for to keep the peace after the ancient assize, that is to say, every man between fifteen years of age and sixty years." Further, he enlarged the armoury of the militiaman by including among his weapons the axe and the bow.[11] The long, aggressive wars of Edward I in Wales and Scotland, and the still longer struggles of the fourteenth century in France, could not, of course, be waged by means of the national militia. Even the feudal levy was unsuited to their requirements. They were waged mainly by means of hired professional armies. Parliament--a new factor in the Constitution--took pains in these circumstances to limit by statute the liabilities of the old national forces. An Act of 1328 decreed that no one should be compelled to go beyond the bounds of his own county, except when necessity or a sudden irruption of foreign foes into the realm required it.[12] Another Act, 1352, provided that the militia should not be compelled to go beyond the realm in any circumstances whatsoever without the consent of Parliament.[13] Both these Acts were confirmed by Henry IV in 1402.[14] But the old obligation of universal service for home defence remained intact. It was, in fact, enforced by Edward IV in 1464, when, on his own authority, he ordered the Sheriffs to proclaim that "every man from sixteen to sixty be well and defensibly arrayed and ... be ready to attend on his Highness upon a day's warning in resistance of his enemies and rebels and the defence of this his realm."[15] This notable incident carries us to the end of the Middle Ages, and shows us the Old English principle in vigorous operation. FOOTNOTES: [10] Gervase of Canterbury. _Gesta Regum_, vol. ii, p. 97. [11] _Statutes of the Realm_, vol. i, pp. 96-8. [12] 1 Ed. III, c. 2. §§5-7. [13] 25 Ed. III, c. 5. §8. [14] 4 Hy. IV, c. 13. [15] Rymer, T. _Foedera_, vol. xi, p. 524. IV. TUDOR AND STUART DEVELOPMENTS The Wars of the Roses, so fatal to the feudal nobility, left the national militia the only organized force in the country. The Tudor period, it is true, saw the faint foreshadowing of a regular army in Henry VII's Yeomen of the Guard, and the nucleus of a volunteer force in the Honourable Artillery Company, established in London under Henry VIII. But these at the time had little military importance, and England remained dependent for her defence throughout the sixteenth century, that age of unprecedented prosperity and glory, upon her militant manhood. Hence the Tudor monarchs paid great attention to the maintenance and equipment of the militia. The practice (which had grown up in the later Middle Ages) of limiting the normal call to arms to a certain quota of men from each county was revived. If the required numbers were not forthcoming compulsion was employed. Statutes were passed making discipline more rigid. Lords Lieutenant were instituted to take over the command, with added powers, from the Sheriffs. An important Mustering Statute (1557) was enacted, graduating afresh the universal liability to service, and making new provision for weapons and organization.[16] William Harrison, writing in 1587, said: "As for able men for service, thanked be God! we are not without good store; for by the musters taken 1574-5 our numbers amounted to 1,172,674, and yet were they not so narrowly taken but that a third part of this like multitude was left unbilled and uncalled."[17] This from a population estimated at less than six million all told! Such was the host on which England relied for safety in 1588, if by chance the galleons of Spain should elude the vigilance of Drake and should land Parma's hordes upon our shores. Well might the country feel at ease behind such a fleet and with such a virile race of men to second it. The Stuarts did not take kindly to the English militia. It was too democratic, too free. James I, in the very first year of his reign, conferred upon its members the seductive but fatal gift of exemption from the burden of providing their own weapons.[18] As he himself took care not to provide them too profusely, the force speedily lost both in efficiency and independence. The Civil War hopelessly divided it, as it did the nation, into hostile factions. The Royalist section was ultimately crushed, while the Parliamentary section was gradually absorbed into that first great standing army which this country ever knew, the New Model of 1645. For fifteen years the people groaned under the dominance of this arbitrary, conscientious, and very expensive force. Then, in 1660, came the Restoration, and with it the disbanding of the New Model and the re-establishment of the militia. The country went wild with joy at the recovery of its freedom. Charles II, however, was bent on securing for his own despotic purposes a standing army. Hence he obtained permission from Parliament to have a permanent bodyguard, and he gradually increased its numbers until he had some 6,000 troops regularly under his command. James II increased them to 15,000, and by their means tried to overthrow the religion and the liberties of the nation. He was defeated and driven out; but his effort to establish a military despotism made the name of "standing army" stink in the nostrils of the nation. "It is indeed impossible," said one of the leading statesmen of the early eighteenth century, "that the liberties of the people can be preserved in any country where a numerous standing army is kept up."[19] The national militia continued, as of old, to stand for freedom and self-government. The voluntarily enlisted standing army was regarded as the engine and emblem of tyranny. FOOTNOTES: [16] 4-5 P. and M., c. 2. [17] Harrison, W. _Elizabethan England_, chap. xxii. [18] 1 Jac. I, c. 25. [19] Speech by Pulteney, A.D. 1732: See _Parl. Hist._, vol. viii, p. 904. V. THE LAST TWO CENTURIES The eighteenth century saw a constant struggle on the part of constitutionalists to get rid of the standing army altogether. Army Acts, which recognized and regulated the new force, were limited in their operation to a year at a time, and were passed under incessant protest. Grants to maintain the army were similarly restricted. Every interval of peace witnessed the rapid reduction of the regulars. But the times were adverse. Wars were frequent, and on an ever-increasing scale of magnitude and duration. The standing army had to be maintained, and, indeed, steadily enlarged. But the militia for home defence was never allowed to become extinct, and it enjoyed an immense popularity. In 1757 it was carefully reorganized by statute.[20] The number of men to be raised was settled, and each district was compelled to provide a certain proportion. The selection was to be made by ballot, to the complete exclusion of the voluntary principle. During the Napoleonic war, when invasion seemed imminent, the militia was several times called out and embodied. In 1803 an actual levy _en masse_ of all men between the ages of seventeen and fifty-five was made. In 1806 the principle of universal obligation on which it was based was clearly stated by Castlereagh in the House of Commons. He spoke of "the undoubted prerogative of the Crown to call upon the services of all liege subjects in case of invasion."[21] At the moment when he spoke, however, the imminent fear of invasion had been removed--removed, indeed, for a century--by Nelson's crowning victory at Trafalgar. From that time forward the military forces of the Crown were required not so much for the defence of the United Kingdom itself as for the provision of garrisons for the vast Empire which had grown up during the eighteenth century. These imperial garrisons had necessarily to be drawn from professional troops voluntarily enlisted. Thus the militia declined. An effort was made in 1852 to revive it, and again the underlying principle of compulsion was explicitly recognized. The Militia Act of that year[22] contains the provision: "In case it appears to H.M. ---- that the number of men required ... cannot be raised by voluntary enlistment ... or in case of actual invasion or imminent danger thereof, it shall be lawful for H.M. ---- to order and direct that the number of men so required ... shall be raised by ballot as herein provided." The effort at revival was unfortunately vain, and when in 1859 international trouble again seemed to be brewing, instead of appealing once more to the immemorial defence of the country, the Government weakly and with most deplorable results allowed the formation of a new body, the volunteers--a body whose patriotism was noble, whose intentions were admirable, but whose inefficiency became and remained a byword.[23] The militia continued ingloriously, mainly as a nursery for the regular army. Finally, in 1908, Mr. (now Lord) Haldane absorbed both volunteers and militia into the new Territorial and Reserve Forces, the militia becoming a Special Reserve.[24] It is much to be regretted that the Act of 1908 did not expressly reaffirm the continued validity of the compulsory principle of service which from the earliest times had been the basis of the militia. But, though it did not expressly reaffirm it, it left it absolutely unimpaired and intact. Said Mr. Haldane himself in the House of Commons on April 13th, 1910: "The Militia Ballot Acts and the Acts relating to the local militia are still unrepealed, and could be enforced if necessary." FOOTNOTES: [20] 31 Geo. II, c. 26. [21] Cobbett. _Parliamentary Debates_, vol. vii, p. 818. [22] 15-16 Vict. c. 50. §18. [23] For occasional levies of volunteers from sixteenth century onwards, see Medley, D. J., _Const. Hist._, p. 472. [24] 7 Ed. VII, c. 9. VI. CONCLUSION Such is the condition of things at the present time. The principle of compulsory military service, obligatory upon every able-bodied male between the ages of sixteen and sixty, is still the fundamental principle of English Law, both Common Law and Statute Law. It has been obscured by the pernicious voluntary principle, which, in the much-abused name of Liberty, has shifted a universal national duty upon the shoulders of the patriotic few. But it has never been revoked or repudiated. It is not National Service, but the Voluntary System, that is un-English and unhistoric. The Territorial Army dates from 1908; the Volunteers from 1859; the Regular Army itself only from 1645. But for a millennium before the oldest of them the ancient defence of England was the Nation in Arms. When will it be so again? II COMPULSORY SERVICE AND LIBERTY [Reprinted, with the addition of References, from the _Morning Post_ of September 28th, 1915.] I. THE PLEA OF FREEDOM The opponents of national service pursue two lines of argument, the one historical, the other theoretical. Along the line of history they try to show that compulsory military duty is alien from the English Constitution, and that the voluntary system is the good old system by means of which Great Britain has maintained her independence, achieved her glories, and founded her Empire. Along the line of political theory they contend that the demand for national service is contrary to the spirit of liberty, that freedom is an essential characteristic of the English genius, that Britons may be persuaded but not coerced, and so on. In the preceding study I have shown the utter baselessness of the historical argument, pointed out that compulsory service was the very foundation of the Anglo-Saxon system of defence, and concluded that whereas "the Territorial Army dates from 1908, the Volunteers from 1859, the Regular Army itself only from 1645, for a millennium before the oldest of them the ancient defence of England was the Nation in Arms." I now turn to the theoretical argument, and propose to consider what is meant by the term "liberty," and ask whether the compulsion involved in national service is incompatible with liberty properly understood. II. THE TERM "LIBERTY" There can be no doubt that in this country, as in America, the term "liberty" enjoys much popularity. Sir John Seeley has remarked that just as "its unlimited generality" makes it "delightful to poets," so its harmonious sound is so grateful to the ears of the public at large that "if a political speech did not frequently mention liberty," no one would "know what to make of it or where to applaud."[25] Matthew Arnold goes so far as to speak of "our worship of freedom," and to depict liberty as the object of a fanatical semi-religious adoration.[26] But as a rule where an Englishman adores he does not define, and if one asks the common devotee of liberty what he understands by the abstraction before which he prostrates himself, one generally requires but a small portion of the dialectic subtlety of Socrates to involve him in a hopeless tangle of contradictions. He can no more define liberty than he can locate his soul. Mr. D. G. Ritchie truly says: "Many crimes have been done, and a still greater amount of nonsense talked in the name of liberty."[27] Seeley, with as much justice as pungency, asserts that some writers "teach us to call by the name of liberty whatever in politics we want," and so lead us to disguise our selfishness and cowardice in the stolen garb of moral principle.[28] At any rate, there is urgent need that before we either support or oppose any practical political measure in the name of liberty, we should clear our minds of confusion, and should reach an understanding of what precisely we mean by this vast and vague expression. It will be found, I think, upon examination, that the term "liberty," as employed in the sphere of politics, has four distinct connotations. I hope to show that in no one of these four senses is liberty incompatible with the compulsory element implicit in the principle of national service. FOOTNOTES: [25] Seeley. _Introduction to Political Science_, pp. 103-4. [26] Arnold. _Culture and Anarchy_, chap. ii. [27] Ritchie. _Natural Rights_, p. 135. [28] Seeley: _op. cit._, p. 103. III. LIBERTY AS FREEDOM FROM FOREIGN CONTROL "A free nation," says Sir William Temple, "is that which has never been conquered, or thereby entered into any condition of subjection."[29] In this sense of freedom from foreign domination liberty is the immemorial boast of Britons. They never have been, or will be, slaves. They are, and they are determined to remain--so they proudly sing--free as the waves that wash their shores, free as the winds that sweep their hills. They are resolved that no alien tyrant shall plant his foot upon their necks. As in the Middle Ages they repudiated the claim of German Emperors and Ultramontane Popes to exercise political sovereignty over them; as in more modern times they resisted conquest by the Spaniard Philip and the Corsican Napoleon; even so would they resist to the extreme limit of endurance any attempt to-day to reduce them to servitude. The proposition that freedom in this sense of national independence is consistent with compulsory military service needs no demonstration at all. So far from there being any incompatibility between the two, it is probable that only by means of a manhood universally trained to the use of arms can the freedom of Britain and the integrity of the Empire be ultimately maintained. We shall almost certainly have to choose, not between national service and liberty, but between national service and destruction. FOOTNOTE: [29] Temple. _Works_ ii, p. 87. IV. LIBERTY AS SYNONYMOUS WITH RESPONSIBLE GOVERNMENT 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 the laws 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. V. LIBERTY AS ABSENCE OF RESTRAINT It cannot be denied, however, that compulsory military service does interfere with the power of the _individual_ to 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 midst of 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 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: "La liberté 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 only will 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 of _Huriyeh_ (Liberty) given by Sir Mark Sykes in _The Caliphs' Last Heritage_. I quote the following from a review in _The Spectator_, of November 27th, 1915: Sir Mark Sykes saw _Huriyeh_ (Liberty) at work in the distant provinces of the Empire. "What, O father of Mahmud," he said to an old Arab acquaintance, "is this _Huriyeh_?" 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 of _Huriyeh_, 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." VI. LIBERTY AS THE OPPORTUNITY FOR SERVICE 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 his _Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_, vigorously criticizes Mill's negative theory. Matthew Arnold in _Culture 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, in _Past and Present_ and 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 organizing power. 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. III THE VOLUNTARY PRINCIPLE [Reprinted from the _Morning Post_ of December 28th, 1915.] I. THE IDEA OF VOLUNTARISM 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 are solidified 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. II. ITS ESTABLISHMENT 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 its _raison d'être_ in 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 Colonial war. 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 the Empire 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. III. THE RESULT 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 its slender 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 masses of 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 indiscriminate enlistment 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. IV. THE PRESENT SITUATION 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 to witness 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 are refusing 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 or _a priori_ objection 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. V. THE FUTURE 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 that it 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
{'title': 'Freedom In Service by F. J. C. Hearnshaw', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}