E.H. Carr, The Twenty Years Crisis
THE HARMONY OF INTERESTS
The Utopian Synthesis
No political society, national or international, can exist unless people submit to certain rules of conduct. The problem why people should submit to such rules is the fundamental problem of political philosophy. The problem presents itself just as insistently in a democracy as under other forms of government and in international as in national politics; for such a formula as "the greatest good of the greatest number" provides no answer to the question why the minority, whose greatest good is ex hypothesi not pursued, should submit to rules made in the interest of the greatest number. Broadly speaking, the answers given to the question fill into two categories, corresponding to the antithesis, discussed in a previous chapter, between those who regard politics as a function of ethics and those who regard ethics as a function of politics.
Those who assert the primacy of ethics over politics will hold that it is the duty of the individual to submit for the sake of the community as a whole, sacrificing his own interest to the interest of others who are more numerous, or in some other way more deserving. The "good" which consists in self-interest should be subordinated to the "good" which consists in loyalty and self-sacrifice for an end higher than self-interest. The obligation rests on some kind of intuition of what is right and cannot be demonstrated by rational argument. Those, on the other hand, who assert the primacy of politics over ethics, will argue that the ruler rules because he is the stronger, and the ruled submit because they are the weaker. This principle is just as easily applicable to democracy as to any other form of government. The majority rules because it is stronger, the minority submits because it is weaker. Democracy, it has often been said, substitutes the counting of heads for the breaking of heads. But the substitution is merely a convenience, and the principle of the two methods is the same. The realist, therefore, unlike the intuitionist, has a perfectly rational answer to the question why the individual should submit. He should submit because otherwise the stronger will compel him; and the results of compulsion are more disagreeable than those of voluntary submission. Obligation is thus derived from a sort of spurious ethic based on the reasonableness of recognizing that might is right.
Both these answers are open to objection. Modern man, who has witnessed so many
magnificent achievements of human reason, is reluctant to believe that reason and
obligation sometimes conflict. On the other hand, men of all ages have failed to find
satisfaction in the view that the rational basis of obligation is merely the right of the
stronger. One of the strongest points of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century utopianism was
its apparent success in meeting both these objections at once. The utopian, starting from
the primacy of ethics, necessarily believes in an obligation which is ethical in character
and independent of the right of the stronger. But he has also been able to convince
himself, on grounds other than those of the realist, that the duty of the individual to
submit to rules made in the interest of the community can be justified in terms of reason,
and that the greatest good of. the greatest number is a rational end even for those who
are not included in the greatest number. He achieves this synthesis by maintaining that
the highest, interest of the individual and the highest interest of the community
naturally coincide. In pursuing his own interest, the individual pursues that of the
community, and in promoting the interest of the community he promotes his own. This is the
famous doctrine of the harmony of interests. It is a necessary corollary of the postulate
that moral laws can be established by right reasoning. The admission of any ultimate
divergence of interests would be fatal to this postulate; and any apparent clash of
interests must therefore be explained as the result of wrong circulation. Burke tacitly
accepted the doctrine of identify when he defined expediency as "that which is good
for the community and for every individual in it."1 It
was Handed an from the eighteenth-century rationalists to Bentham, and from Bentham to the
Victorian moralists. The utilitarian philosophers could justify morality by the argument
that, in promoting the good of others, one automatically promotes one's own. Honesty is
the best policy. If people or nations behave badly, it must be, as Buckle and Sir Norman
Angell and Professor Zimmern think, because they are unintellectual and short-sighted and
The Paradise of Laissez-Faire
It was the laissez-faire school of political economy created by Adam Smith which was in the main responsible for popularizing the doctrine of the harmony of interests. The purpose of the school was to promote the removal of state control in economic matters; and in order to justify this policy, it set out to demonstrate that the individual could be relied on, without external control, to promote the interests of the community for the very reason that those interests were identical with his own. This proof was the burden of The Wealth Of Nations. The community is divided into those who live by rent, those who live by wages and those who live by profit; and the interests of "those three great orders" are "strictly and inseparably connected with the general interest of the society."2 The harmony is none the less real if those concerned are unconscious of it. The individual "neither intends to promote the public interest, nor knows how much lie is promoting it.... lie intends only his own gain, and he is in this, as in many other cases, led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention." 3 The invisible hand, which Adam Smith would perhaps have regarded as a metaphor, presented no difficulty to Victorian piety. "It is curious to observe," remarks a tract issued by the Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge towards the middle of the nineteenth century, "how, through the wise and beneficent arrangement of Providence, men thus do the greatest service to the public when they are thinking of nothing but their own gain." 4 About the same time an English clergyman wrote a work entitled The Temporal Benefits of Christianity Explained. The harmony of interests provided a solid rational basis for morality. To love one's neighbor turned out to be a thoroughly enlightened way of loving oneself. "We now know," wrote Mr. Henry Ford as recently as 1930, "that anything which is economically right is also morally right, There can be no conflict between good economics and good morals." 5
The assumption of a general and fundamental harmony of interests is prima facie so paradoxical that it requires careful scrutiny, in the form which Adam Smith gave to it, it bad a definite application to the economic structure of the eighteenth century. It presupposed a society of small producers and merchants, interested in the maximization of production and exchange, infinitely mobile and adaptable, and unconcerned with the problem of the distribution of wealth. Those conditions were substantially fulfilled in an age when production involved no high degree of specialization and no sinking of capital in fixed equipment, and when the class which might be more interested in the equitable distribution of wealth than in its maximum production was insignificant and without influence. But by a curious coincidence, the year which saw the publication of The Wealth of Nations was also the year in which Watt invented his steam-engine. Thus, at the very moment when laissez-faire theory was receiving its classical exposition, its premises were undermined by an invention which was destined to call into being immobile, highly specialized, mammoth industries and a large and powerful proletariat more interested in distribution than in production. Once industrial capitalism and the class system had become the recognized structure of society, the doctrine of the harmony of interests acquired a new significance, and became, as we shall presently see, the ideology of a dominant group concerned to maintain its predominance by asserting the identity of its interests with those of the community as a whole.6
But this transformation could not have been effected; and the doctrine could not have survived at all, but for one circumstance. The survival of the belief in a harmony of interests was rendered possible by the unparalleled expansion of production, population and prosperity, which marked the hundred years following the publication of The Wealth of Nations arid the invention of the steam-engine. Expanding prosperity contributed to the popularity of the doctrine in three different ways. It attenuated competition for markets among producers, since fresh markets were constantly becoming available; it postponed the class issue, with its insistence on the primary importance of equitable distribution by extending to members of the less prosperous classes some share in the general prosperity; and by creating a sense of confidence in present and future well-being, it encouraged men to believe that the world was ordered on so rational a plan as the natural harmony of interests. "It was the continual widening of the field of demand which, for half a century, made capitalism operate as if it were a liberal utopia." 7 The tacit presupposition of infinitely expanding markets was the foundation on which the supposed harmony of interests rested. As Dr. Mannheim points out, traffic control is unnecessary so long as the number of cars does not exceed the comfortable capacity of the road.8 Until that moment arrives, it is easy to believe in a natural harmony of interests between road-users.
What was true of individuals was assumed to be also true of nations. Just as
individuals, by pursuing their own good, unconsciously compass the good of the whole
community, so nations in serving themselves serve humanity. Universal free trade was
justified on the ground that the maximum economic interest of each nation was identified
with the maximum economic interest of the whole world. Adam Smith, who was a practical
reformer rather than a pure theorist, did indeed admit that governments might have to
protect certain industries in the interests of national defense. But such derogations
seemed to him and to his followers trivial exceptions to the rule. "Laissez-faire,"
as J. S. Mill puts it, "
should be the general rule: every departure from
it, unless required by some great good, a certain evil." 9
Other thinkers gave the doctrine of the harmony of national interests a still wider
application. "The true interests of a nation," observes a late
eighteenth-century writer, "never yet stood in opposition to the general interest of
mankind; and it can never happen that philanthropy and patriotism can impose on any man
inconsistent duties." 10 T. H. Green, the English
Hegelian who tempered the doctrines of his master with concessions to British
nineteenth-century liberalism, held that "no action in its own interest of a state
which fulfilled its idea could conflict with any true interest or right of general
society," 11 though it is interesting to note that the
question-begging epithet "true," which in the eighteenth-century quotation is
attached to the interests of the nation, has been transferred by the nineteenth century to
the interest of the general society. Mazzini, who embodied the liberal nineteenth-century
philosophy of nationalism, believed in a sort of division of labor between nations. Each
nation hid its own special task for which its special aptitudes fitted it, and the
performance of this task was its contribution to the welfare of humanity. If all nations
acted in this spirit, international harmony would prevail. The same condition of
apparently infinite expansibility which encouraged belief in the economic harmony of
interests made possible the belief in the political harmony of rival national movements.
One reason why contemporaries of Mazzini thought nationalism a good thing was that there
were few recognized nations, and plenty of room for them. In an age when Germans, Czechs,
Poles, Ukrainians, Magyars and half a dozen more national groups were not yet visibly
jostling one another over an area of a few hundred square miles, it was comparatively easy
t6 believe that each nation, by developing its own nationalism, could make its own special
contribution to the international harmony of interests. Most liberal writers continued to
believe, right down to 1918, that nations, by developing their own nationalism, promoted
the cause of internationalism; and Wilson and many other makers of the peace treaties saw
in national self-determination the key to world peace. More recently still, responsible
Anglo-Saxon statesmen have been from time to time content to echo, probably without much
reflection, the old Mazzinian formulae.12
Darwinism in Politics
When the centenary of The Wealth of Nations was celebrated in 1876, there were already symptoms of an impending breakdown. No country but Great Britain had been commercially powerful enough to believe in the international harmony of economic interests. Acceptance of free-trade principles outside Great Britain had always been partial, half-hearted and short-lived. The United States had rejected them from the start. About 1840, Friedrich List, who had spent much time studying industrial development in the United States, began to preach to a German audience the doctrine that, while free trade was the right policy for an industrially dominant nation like Great Britain, only protection could enable weaker nations to break the British stranglehold. German and American industries, built up behind protective tariffs, were soon seriously impinging on the world-wide British industrial monopoly. The British Dominions overseas made use of their newly-won fiscal autonomy to protect themselves against the manufactures of the mother country. The pressure of competition was increasing on all sides. Nationalism began to wear a sinister aspect, and to degenerate into imperialism. The philosophy of Hegel, who identified reality with an eternally recurring conflict of ideas, extended its influence. Behind Hegel stood Marx, who materialized the Hegelian conflict into a class-war of economic interest-groups, and working-class parties came into being which steadfastly refused to believe in the harmony of interests between capital and labor. Above all, Darwin propounded and popularized a biological doctrine of evolution through a perpetual struggle for life and the elimination of the unfit.
It was the doctrine of evolution which for a time enabled the laissez-faire philosophy to make its terms with the new conditions and the new trend of thought. Free competition had always been worshipped as the beneficent deity of the laissez-faire system. The French economist Bastiat, in a work significantly entitled Les Harmonies Economiques, had hailed competition as "that humanitarian force... which continually wrests progress from the hands of the individual to make it the common heritage of the great human family."13 Under the growing strains of the latter half of the nineteenth century, it was perceived that competition in the economic sphere implied exactly what Darwin proclaimed as the biological law of nature - the survival of the stronger at the expense of the weaker. The small producer or trader was gradually being put out of business by his large-scale competitor; and this development was what progress and the welfare of the community as a whole demanded. Laissez-faire meant an open field, and the prize to the strongest. The doctrine of the harmony of interests underwent an almost imperceptible modification. The good of the community (or, as people were now inclined to say, of the species) was still identical with the good of its individual members, but only of those individuals who were effective competitors in the struggle for life. Humanity went on from strength to strength, shedding its weaklings by the way. "The development of the species," as Marx said, " and therefore the higher development of the individual can only be secured through the historical process, in which individuals are sacrificed." 14 Such was the doctrine of the new age of intensified economic competition preached by the school of Herbert Spencer, and commonly accepted in Great Britain in the 'seventies and 'eighties. The last French disciple of Adam Smith, Yves Guyot, assisted perhaps by the accident that the French word concurrence means "collaboration" as well as "competition," wrote a work entitled La Morale de la Concurrence. Among English writers who applied this evolutionary principle to international politics, the most popular was Bagehot:
Conquest is the premium given by nature to those national characters which their
national customs have made most fit to win in war, and in most material respects those
winning characters are really the best characters. The characters which do win in war are
the characters which we should wish to win in war.15
About the same time, a Russian sociologist defined international politics as "the
art of conducting the struggle for existence between social organisms"; 16 and in 1900 a distinguished professor, in a once famous book,
stated the doctrine in all its naked ruthlessness :
The path of progress is strewn with the wreck of nations traces are everywhere to be
seen of the hecatombs of inferior races, and of victims who found not the narrow way to
the greater perfection. Yet these dead peoples ire, in very truth, the stepping stones on
which mankind has arisen to the higher intellectual and deeper emotional life of today.17
In Germany, the same view was propounded by Treitschke and Houston Stewart Chamberlain. The doctrine of progress through the elimination of unfit nations seemed a fair corollary of the doctrine of progress through the elimination of unfit individuals; and some such belief, though not always openly avowed, was implicit in late nineteenth-century imperialism. In the later nineteenth century, as an American historian remarks, "the basic problem of international relations was who should cut tip the victims."18 The harmony of interests was established through the sacrifice of "unfit" Africans and Asiatics.
One point had, unfortunately, been overlooked. For more than a hundred years, the
doctrine of the harmony of interests had provided a rational basis for morality. The
individual had been urged to serve the interest of the community on the plea that that
interest was also his own. The ground had now been shifted. In the long run, the good of
the community and the good of the individual were still the same. But this eventual
harmony was preceded by a struggle for life between individuals, in which not only the
good, but the very existence, of the loser were eliminated altogether from the picture.
Morality in these conditions had no rational attraction for prospective losers; and
the whole ethical system was built on the sacrifice of the weaker brother. In practice,
nearly every state had made inroads on the classical doctrine, and introduced social
legislation to protect the economically weak against the economically strong. The doctrine
itself died harder. In the 'seventies Dostoevsky, who had none of the prejudices of an
Englishman or an economist, made Ivan Karamazov declare that the price of admission to the
"eternal harmony" was too high if it included the sufferings of the innocent.
About the same time, Winwood Reade made an uncomfortable sensation in Great Britain with a
book called The Martyrdom of Man, which drew attention to the immense tale of
suffering and waste involved in the theory of evolution. In the nineties, Huxley
confessed, in the name of science, to the existence of a discrepancy between the
"cosmic process" and the "ethical process"; 19
and Balfour, approaching the problem from the angle of philosophy, concluded that "a
complete harmony between 'egoism' and 'altruism', between the pursuit of the highest
happiness for oneself and the highest happiness for other people, can never be provided by
a creed which refuses to admit that the deeds done and the character formed in this life
can flow over into another, and there permit a reconciliation and an adjustment between
the conflicting principles which are not always possible here."20
Less and less was heard of the beneficent properties of free competition. Before 19l4,
though the policy of international free trade was still upheld by the British electorate
and by British economists, the ethical postulate which had once formed the basis of the laissez-faire
philosophy no longer appealed, at any rate in its crude form, to any serious thinker.
Biologically and economically, the doctrine of the harmony of interests was tenable only
if you left out of account the interest of the weak who must be driven to the wall, or
called in the next world to redress the balance of the present.
The International Harmony
Attention has been drawn to the curious way in which doctrines, already obsolete or
obsolescent before the war of 1914, were reintroduced in the post-war period, largely
through American inspiration, into the special field of international affairs. This would
appear to be conspicuously true of the laissez-faire doctrine of the harmony of
interests. In the United States, the history of laissez-faire presents special
features. Throughout the nineteenth, and well into the twentieth, centuries the United
States, while requiring tariff protection against European competition, had enjoyed the
advantage of an expanding domestic market of apparently unlimited potentialities. In Great
Britain, which continued clown to 1914 to dominate world trade, but was increasingly
conscious of strains and stresses at home, J. S. Mill and later economists clung firmly to
international free trade, but made more and more inroads into laissez-faire orthodoxy
in the domestic sphere. In the United States, Carey and his successors justified
protective tariffs, but in every other respect maintained the immutable principles of laissez-faire.
In Europe after 1919, planned economy, which rests on the assumption that no natural
harmony of interests exists and that interests must be artificially harmonized by state
action, became the practice, if not the theory of almost every state. In the United
States, the persistence of an expanding domestic market staved off this development till
after 1929. The natural harmony of interests remained an integral part of the American
view of life; and in this as in other respects, current theories of international politics
were deeply imbued with the American tradition. Moreover, there was a special reason for
the ready acceptance of the doctrine in the international sphere. In domestic affairs it
is clearly the business of the state to create harmony if no natural harmony exists. In
international politics, there is no organized power charged with the task of creating
harmony; and the temptation to assume a natural harmony is therefore particularly strong.
But this is no excuse for barking the issue. To make the harmonization of interests the
goal of political action is not the same thing as to postulate that a natural harmony of
interests exists; 21 and it is this latter postulate which
his caused so much confusion in international thinking.
The Common Interest in Peace
Politically, the doctrine of the identity of interests has commonly taken the form of an assumption that every nation has an identical interest in peace, and that any nation which desires to disturb the peace is therefore both irrational and immoral. This view bears clear marks of its Anglo-Saxon origin. It was easy after 1918 to convince that part of mankind which lives in English-speaking countries that war profits nobody. The argument did not seem particularly convincing to Germans, who had profited largely from the wars of 1866 and 1870, and attributed their more recent sufferings, not to the war of 1914, but to the fact that they had lost it; or to Italians, who blamed not the war, but the treachery of allies who defrauded them in the peace settlement; or to Poles or Czecho-Slovaks who, far from deploring the war, owed their national existence to it; or to Frenchmen, who could not unreservedly regret a war which had restored Alsace-Lorraine to France; or to people of other nationalities who remembered profitable wars waged by Great Britain and the United States in the past. But these people had fortunately little influence over the formation of current theories of international relations, which emanated almost exclusively from the English-speaking countries. British and American writers continued to assume that the uselessness of war had been irrefutably demonstrated by the experience of 1914-18, and that an intellectual grasp of this fact was all that was necessary to induce the nations to keep the peace in the future; and they were sincerely puzzled as well as disappointed at the failure of other countries to share this view.
The confusion was increased by the ostentatious readiness of other countries to flatter
the Anglo-Saxon world by repeating its slogans. In the fifteen years after the first world
war, every Great Power (except, perhaps, Italy) repeatedly did lip-service to the doctrine
by declaring peace to be one of the main objects of its policy. 22
But as Lenin observed long ago, peace in itself is a meaningless aim. "Absolutely
everybody is in favor of peace in general," he wrote in 1915, "including
Kitchener, Joffre, Hindenburg and Nicholas the Bloody, for everyone of them wishes to end
the war." 23 The common interest in peace masks the
fact that some nations desire to maintain the status quo without having to fight
for it, and others to change the status quo without having to fight in order to do
so. 24 The statement that it is in the interest of the world
as a whole either that the status quo should be maintained, or that it should be
changed, would be contrary to the facts. The statement that it is in the interest of the
world as a whole that the conclusion eventually reached, whether maintenance or change,
should be reached by peaceful means, would command general assent, but seems a rather
meaningless platitude. The utopian assumption that there is a world interest in peace
which is identifiable with the interest of each individual nation helped politicians and
political writers everywhere to evade the unpalatable fact of a fundamental divergence of
interest between nations desirous of maintaining the status quo and nations
desirous of changing it. 25 A peculiar combination of
platitude and falseness thus became endemic in the pronouncements of statesmen about
international affairs. "In this whole Danubian area," said a Prime Minister of
Czecho-Slovakia, "no one really wants conflicts and jealousies. The various countries
want to maintain their independence, but otherwise they are ready for any cooperative
measures. I am thinking specially of the Little Entente, Hungary and Bulgaria." 26 Literally the words may pass as true. Yet the conflicts and
jealousies which nobody wanted were a notorious feature of Danubian politics after 1919,
and the cooperation for which all were ready was unobtainable. The fact of divergent
interests was disguised and falsified by the platitude of a general desire to avoid
International Economic Harmony
In economic relations, the assumption of a general harmony of interests was made with even greater confidence; for here we have a direct reflection of the cardinal doctrine of laissez-faire economics, and it is here that we can see most clearly the dilemma which results from the doctrine. When the nineteenth-century liberal spoke of the greatest good of the greatest number, he tacitly assumed that the good of the minority might have to be sacrificed to it. This principle applied equally to international economic relations. If Russia or Italy, for example, were not strong enough to build up industries without the protection of tariffs, then - the laissez-faire liberal would have argued -they should be content to import British and German manufactures and supply wheat and oranges to the British and German markets. If anyone had thereupon objected that this policy would condemn Russia and Italy to remain second-rate Powers economically and militarily dependent on their neighbors, the laissez-faire liberal would have had to answer that this was the will of Providence and that this was what the general harmony of interests demanded. The modern utopian internationalist enjoys none of the advantages, and has none of the toughness, of the nineteenth-century liberal. The material success of the weaker Powers in building up protected industries, as well as the new spirit of internationalism, preclude him from arguing that the harmony of interests depends on the sacrifice of economically unfit nations. Yet the abandonment of this premiss destroys the whole basis of the doctrine which be has inherited; and he is driven to the belief that the common good can be achieved without any sacrifice of the good of any individual member of the community. Every international conflict is therefore unnecessary and illusory. It is only necessary to discover the common good which is at the same time the highest good of all the disputants; and only the folly of statesmen stands in the way of its discovery. The utopian, secure in his understanding of this common good, arrogates to himself the monopoly of wisdom. The statesmen of the world one and all stand convicted of incredible blindness to the interest of those whom they are supposed to represent. Such was the picture of the international scene presented, in all seriousness, by British and American writers, including not a few economists.
It is for this reason that we find in the modern period an extraordinary divergence
between the theories of economic experts and the practice of those responsible for the
economic policies of their respective countries. Analysis will show that this divergence
springs from a simple fact. The economic expert, dominated in the main by laissez-faire
doctrine, considers the hypothetical economic interest of the world as a whole, and is
content to assume that this is identical with the interest of each individual country. The
politician pursues the concrete interest of his country, and assumes (if he makes any
assumption at all) that the interest of the world as a whole is identical with it. Nearly
every pronouncement of every international economic conference held between the two world
wars was vitiated by this assumption that there was some "solution" or
"plan" which, by a judicious balancing of interests, would be equally favorable
to all and prejudicial to none.
Any strictly nationalistic policy [declared the League Conference of economic experts
in 1927] is harmful not only to the nation which practices it but also to the others, and
therefore defeats its own end, and if it be desired that the new state of mind revealed by
the Conference should lead rapidly to practical results, any program of execution must
include, as an essential factor, the principle of parallel or concerted action
by the different nations. Every country will then know that the concessions it is asked to
make will be balanced by corresponding sacrifices on the part of the other countries. It
will be able to accept the proposed measures, not merely in view of its own individual
position, but also because it is interested in the success of the general plan
laid down by the Conference.27
The sequel of the Conference was the complete neglect of all the recommendations unanimously made by it; and if we are not content to accept the facile explanation that the leading statesmen of the world were either criminal or mad, we may begin to suspect the validity of its initial assumption. It seems altogether rash to suppose that economic nationalism is necessarily detrimental to states which practice it. In the nineteenth century, Germany and the United States, by pursuing a "strictly nationalistic policy," had placed themselves in a position to challenge Great Britain's virtual monopoly of world trade. No conference of economic experts, meeting in 1880, could have evolved a "general plan" for "parallel or concerted action" which would have allayed the economic rivalries of the time in a manner equally advantageous to Great Britain, Germany and the United States. It was not less presumptuous to suppose that a conference meeting in 1927 could allay the economic rivalries of the later period by a "plan" beneficial to the interests of everyone. Even the economic crisis of 1930-33 failed to bring home to the economists the true nature of the problem which they had to face. The experts who prepared the "Draft Annotated Agenda" for the World Economic Conference of I933 condemned the "world-wide adoption of ideals of national self-sufficiency which cut unmistakably athwart the lines of economic development."28 They did not apparently pause to reflect that those so-called "lines of economic development," which might be beneficial to some countries and even to the world as a whole, would inevitably be detrimental to other countries, which were using weapons of economic nationalism in self-defense. The Van Zeeland report of January 1938 began by asking, and answering in the affirmative, the question whether "the methods which, taken as a whole, form the system of international trade" are "fundamentally preferable" to "autarkic tendencies." Yet every Power at some period of its history, and as a rule for prolonged periods, has resorted to "autarkic tendencies." It is difficult to believe that there is any absolute sense in which "autarkic tendencies" are always detrimental to those who pursue them. Even if they could be justified only as the lesser of two evils, the initial premise of the Van Zeeland report was invalidated. But there was worse to come. " We must... make our dispositions," continued M. Van Zeeland, "in such a way that the new system shall offer to all participators advantages greater than those of the position in which they now find themselves."29 This is economic utopianism in its most purblind form. The report, like the reports of 1927 and 1933, assumed the existence of a fundamental principle of economic policy whose application would be equally beneficial to all states and detrimental to none; and for this reason it remained, like its predecessors, a dead letter.
Economic theory, as opposed to economic practice, was so powerfully dominated in the years between the two world wars by the supposed harmony of interests that it is difficult to find, in the innumerable international discussions of the period, any clear exposition of the real problem which baffled the statesmen of the world. Perhaps the frankest statement was one made by the Yugoslav Foreign Minister at the session of the Commission for European Union in January 1931. Arthur Henderson, on behalf of Great Britain, following the Netherlands delegate Dr. Colijn, had pleaded for an all-round tariff reduction "which must, by its nature, bring benefit to each and all by allowing that expansion of production and international exchange of wealth by which the common prosperity of all can be increased."30 Marinkovitch, who spoke next, concluded from the failure to carry out the recommendations of the 1927 Conference, that "there were extremely important reasons why the governments could not apply" those resolutions. He went on :
The fact is that apart from economic considerations there are also political and social considerations. The old "things-will-right-themselves" school of economists argued that if nothing were done and events were allowed to follow their natural course from an economic point of view, economic equilibrium would come about of its own accord. That is probably true (I do not propose to discuss the point). But how would that equilibrium come about? At the expense of the weakest. Now, as you are aware, for more than seventy years there has been a powerful and growing reaction against this theory of economics. All the socialist parties of Europe and the world are merely the expression of the opposition to this way of looking at economic problems.
We were told that we ought to lower customs barriers and even abolish them. As far as the agricultural states of Europe are concerned, if they could keep the promises they made in 1927 - admitting that the statements of 1927 did contain promises - and could carry that policy right through, we might perhaps find ourselves able to hold our own against overseas competition in the matter of agricultural products. But at the same time we should have to create in Poland, Romania and Yugoslavia the same conditions as exist in Canada and the Argentine, where vast territories are inhabited by a scanty population and where machinery and other devices are employed.... We could not sacrifice our people by shooting them, but they would nevertheless be killed off by famine - which would come to the same thing.
I am sure that the key to which M. Colijn has referred does not exist. Economic and
social life is too complicated to allow of a solution by any one formula; it calls for
complicated solutions. We shall have to take into account the many varieties of
geographical, political, social and other conditions which exist. 31
Marinkovitch went on to dispose of the theory of the "long-run" harmony of
Last year, when I was in the Yugoslav mountains, I heard that the inhabitants of a small mountain village, having no maize or wheat on which to live, were simply cutting down a wood which belonged to them... and were living on what they earned by selling the wood.... I went to the village, collected together some of the leading inhabitants and endeavored to reason with them, just like the great industrial states reason with us. I said to them: "You possess plenty of common sense. You see that your forest is becoming smaller and smaller. What will you do when you cut down the last tree ?" They replied to me: "Your Excellency, that is a point which worries us: but on the other hand, what should we do now if we stopped cutting down our trees ?"
I can assure you that the agricultural countries are in exactly the same situation. You
threaten them with future disasters; but they are already in the throes of disasters.32
One further example of unwonted frankness may be quoted. Speaking in September 1937
over one of the United States broadcasting systems, the President of the Colombian
In no field of human activity are the benefits of the crisis as clear as in the relationships between nations and especially of the American nations. If it is true that the economic relations have become rigorous and at times harsh, it is also true that they have fortunately become more democratic.
The crisis freed many countries which had up to then been subordinated to the double mental and financial imperialism of the nations which controlled international markets and policies. Many nations learned to trust less international cordiality and to seek an autonomous life, full of initial obstacles but which nevertheless created strong interests within a short time....
When the arbitrary systems that prevail today begin to be relaxed, there will be a weaker international trade, but there will also be a larger number of nations economically strong.
Economic cooperation today is a very different and more noble thing than the old cooperation which was based on the convenience of industrial countries and of bankers who tutored the world. The certainty acquired by many small nations that they can subsist and prosper without subordinating their conduct and their activities to foreign interests has begun to introduce a greater frankness and equality in the relations between modern nations....
It is true that the crisis has shipwrecked many high and noble principles of our civilization; but it is also true that in this return to a kind of primitive struggle for existence, peoples are being freed of many fictions and of much hypocrisy which they had accepted in the belief that with them they were insuring their well-being.
The foundation of international economic freedom lies in the recognition that when
strong nations place themselves on the defensive, they act just like the weak ones do, and
that all of them have an equal right to defend themselves with their own resources.33
The claims made on behalf of the Colombian Republic were perhaps exaggerated. But both
the Yugoslav and the Colombian statements were powerful challenges to the doctrine of the
harmony of interests. It is fallacy to suppose that, because Great Britain and the United
States have an interest in the removal of trade barriers, this is also an interest of
Yugoslavia and Colombia. International trade may be weaker. The economic interests of
Europe or of the world at large may suffer. But Yugoslavia and Colombia will be better off
than they would have been under a regime of European or world prosperity which reduced
them to the position of satellites. Dr. Schacht spoke a little later of those
"fanatical adherents of the most-favored-nation policy abroad, who from the abundance
of their wealth cannot realize that a poor nation has nevertheless the courage to live by
its own laws instead of suffering under the prescriptions of the well-to-do."34 Laissez-faire, in international relations as in those
between capital and labor, is the paradise of the economically strong. State control,
whether in the form of protective legislation or of protective tariffs, is the weapon of
self-defense invoked by the economically weak. The clash of interests is real and
inevitable; and the whole nature of the problem is distorted by an attempt to disguise it.
The Harmony Broken
We must therefore reject as inadequate and misleading the attempt to base international morality on an alleged harmony of interests which identifies the interest of the whole community of nations with the interest of each individual member of it. In the nineteenth century, this attempt met with widespread success, thanks to the continuously expanding economy in which it was made. The period was one of progressive prosperity, punctuated only by minor set-backs. The international economic structure bore considerable resemblance to the domestic economic structure of the United States. Pressure could at once be relieved by expansion to hitherto unoccupied and unexploited territories; and there was a plentiful supply of cheap labor, and of backward countries, which had not yet reached the level of political consciousness. Enterprising individuals could solve the economic problem by migration, enterprising nations by colonization. Expanding markets produced an expanding population, and population in turn reacted on markets. Those who were left behind in the race could plausibly be regarded as the unfit. A harmony of interests among the fit, based on individual enterprise and free competition, was sufficiently near to reality to form a sound basis for the current theory. With some difficulty the illusion was kept alive till 1914. Even British prosperity, though its foundations were menaced by German and American competition, continued to expand. The year 1913 was a record year for British trade.
The transition from the apparent harmony to the transparent clash of interests may be placed about the turn of the century. Appropriately enough, it found its first expression in colonial policies. In the British mind, it was primarily associated with events in South Africa. Mr. Churchill dates the beginning of "these violent times" from the Jameson Raid. 35 In North Africa and the Far East, there was a hasty scramble by the European Powers to secure the few eligible sites which were still vacant. Emigration of individuals from Europe, the point of principal tension, to America assumed unparalleled dimensions. In Europe itself, anti-Semitism - the recurrent symptom of economic stress - reappeared after a long interval in Russia, Germany and France.36 In Great Britain, agitation against unrestricted alien immigration began in the 1890's; and the first act controlling immigration was passed in 1905.
The first world war, which proceeded from this growing tension, aggravated it tenfold by intensifying its fundamental causes. In belligerent and neutral countries in Europe, Asia and America, industrial and agricultural production were everywhere artificially stimulated. After the war every country struggled to maintain its expanded production; and an enhanced and inflamed national consciousness was invoked to justify the struggle. One reason for the unprecedented vindictiveness of the peace treaties, and in particular of their economic clauses, was that practical men no longer believed - as they had done fifty or a hundred years earlier - in an underlying harmony of interests between victors and defeated. The object was now to eliminate a competitor, a revival of whose prosperity might menace your own. In Europe, the struggle was intensified by the creation of new states and new economic frontiers. In Asia, India and China built up large-scale manufactures to make themselves independent of imports from Europe. Japan became an exporter of textiles and other cheap goods which undercut European manufactures on the world market. Most important of all, there were no more open spaces anywhere awaiting cheap and profitable development and exploitation. The ample avenues of migration which had relieved the economic pressures of the pre-war period were closed; and in place of the natural flow of migration came the problem of forcibly evicted refugees.37 The complex phenomenon known as economic nationalism swept over the world. The fundamental character of this clash of interests became obvious to all except those confirmed utopians who dominated economic thought in the English-speaking countries. The hollowness of the glib nineteenth-century platitude that nobody can benefit from what harms another was revealed. The basic presupposition of utopianism had broken down.
What confronts us in international politics today is, therefore, nothing less than the
complete bankruptcy of the conception of morality which has dominated political and
economic thought for a century and a half. Internationally, it is no longer possible to
deduce virtue from right reasoning, because it is no longer seriously possible to believe
that every state, by pursuing the greatest good of the whole world, is pursuing the
greatest good of its own citizens, and vice versa. The synthesis of morality and
reason, at any rate in the crude form in which it was achieved by nineteenth-century
liberalism, is untenable. The inner meaning of the modern international crisis is the
collapse of the whole structure of utopianism based on the concept of the harmony of
interests. The present generation will have to rebuild from the foundations. But before we
can do this, before we can ascertain what can be salved from the ruins, we must examine
the flaws in the structure which led to its collapse; and we can best do this by analyzing
the realist critique of the utopian assumptions.
THE REALIST CRITIQUE
The Foundations of Realism
For reasons explained in a previous chapter, realism enters the field far behind utopianism and by way of reaction from it. The thesis that "justice is the right of the stronger" was, indeed, familiar in the Hellenic world. But it never represented anything more than the protest of an uninfluential minority, puzzled by the divergence between political theory and political practice. Under the supremacy of the Roman Empire, and later of the Catholic Church, the problem could hardly arise; for the political good, first of the empire, then of the church, could be regarded as identical with moral good. It was only with the break-up of the mediaeval system that the divergence between political theory and political practice became acute and challenging. Machiavelli is the first important political realist.
Machiavelli's starting-point is a revolt against the utopianism of current political
It being my intention to write a thing which shall be useful to him who apprehends it,
it appears to me more appropriate to follow up the real truth of a matter than the
imagination of it; for many have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have
never been seen and known, because how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to
live that he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done sooner effects his ruin
than his preservation.
The three essential tenets implicit in Machiavelli's doctrine are the foundation-stones of the realist philosophy. In the first place, history is a sequence of cause and effect, whose course can be analyzed and understood by intellectual effort, but not (as the utopians believe) directed by "imagination." Secondly, theory does not (as the utopians assume) create practice, but practice theory. In Machiavelli's words, " good counsels, whencesoever they come, are born of the wisdom of the prince, and not the wisdom of the prince from good counsels." Thirdly, politics are not (as the utopians pretend) a function of ethics, but ethics of politics. Men "are kept honest by constraint." Machiavelli recognized the importance of morality, but thought that there could be no effective morality where there was no effective authority. Morality is the product of power.1
The extraordinary vigor and vitality of Machiavelli's challenge to orthodoxy may be attested by the fact that, more than four centuries after he wrote, the most conclusive way of discrediting a political opponent is still to describe him as a disciple of Machiavelli.2 Bacon was one of the first to praise him for "saying openly and without hypocrisy what men are in the habit of doing, not what they ought to do."3 Henceforth no political thinker could ignore him. In France Bodin, in England Hobbes, in the Netherlands Spinoza, professed to find a compromise between the new doctrine and the conception of a "law of nature" constituting a supreme ethical standard. But all three were in substance realists; and the age of Newton for the first time conceived the possibility of a physical science of politics.4 The work of Bodin and Hobbes, writes Professor Laski, was " to separate ethics from politics, and to complete by theoretical means the division which Machiavelli had effected on practical grounds."5 "Before the names of just and Unjust can have place," said Hobbes, " there must be some coercive power." 6 Spinoza believed that practical statesmen had contributed more to the understanding of politics than men of theory "and, above all, theologians"; for "they have put themselves to the school of experience, and have therefore taught nothing which does not bear upon our practical needs."7 In anticipation of Hegel, Spinoza declares that "every man does what he does according to the laws of his nature and to the highest right of nature."8 The way is thus opened for determinism; and ethics become, in the last analysis, the study of reality.
Modern realism differs, however, in one important respect from that of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Both utopianism and realism accepted and incorporated in their philosophies the eighteenth-century belief in progress, with the curious and somewhat paradoxical result that realism became in appearance more "progressive" than utopianism. Utopianism grafted its belief in progress on to its belief in an absolute ethical standard, which remained ex hypothesi static. Realism, having no such sheet-anchor, became more and more dynamic and relativist. Progress became part of the inner essence of the historical process; and mankind was moving forward towards a goal which was left undefined, or was differently defined by different philosophers. The "historical school" of realists had its home in Germany, and its development is traced through the great names of Hegel and Marx. But no country in Western Europe, and no branch of thought, was immune from its influence in the middle and later years of the nineteenth century; and this development, while it has freed realism from the pessimistic coloring imparted to it by thinkers like Machiavelli and Hobbes, has thrown its determinist character into stronger relief.
The idea of causation in history is as old as the writing of history itself. But so long as the belief prevailed that human affairs were subject to the continuous supervision and occasional intervention of a Divine Providence, no philosophy of history based on a regular relationship of cause and effect was likely to be evolved. The substitution of reason for Divine Providence enabled Hegel to produce, for the first time, a philosophy based on the conception of a rational historical process. Hegel, while assuming a regular and orderly process, was content to find its directing force in a metaphysical abstraction - the Zeitgeist. But once the historical conception of reality had established itself, it was a short step to substitute for the abstract Zeitgeist some concrete material force. The economic interpretation of history was not invented, but developed and popularized by Marx. About the same time Buckle propounded a geographical interpretation of history which convinced him that human affairs were "permeated by one glorious principle of universal and undeviating regularity";9 and this has been revived in the form of the science of Geopolilik, whose inventor describes geography as "a political categorical imperative."10Spengler believed that events were determined by quasi-biological laws governing the growth and decline of civilizations. More eclectic thinkers- interpret history as the product of a variety of material factors, and the policy of a group or nation as a reflection of all the material factors which make up the group or national interest. "Foreign policies," said Mr. Hughes during his tenure of office as American Secretary of State, "are not built upon abstractions. They are the result of national interest arising from some immediate exigency or standing out vividly in historical perspective."11Any such interpretation of reality, whether in terms of a Zeitgeist, or of economics or geography, or of "historical perspective," is in its last analysis deterministic. Marx (though, having a program of action, he could not be a rigid and consistent determinist) believed in "tendencies which work out with an iron necessity towards an inevitable goal."12 "Politics," wrote Lenin, "have their own objective logic independent of the prescriptions of this or that individual or party."13 In January 1918, he described his belief in the coming socialist revolutions in Europe as "a scientific prediction."14
On the "scientific" hypothesis of the realists, reality is thus identified
with the whole course of historical evolution, whose laws it is the business of the
philosopher to investigate and reveal. There can be no reality outside the historical
process. "To conceive of history as evolution and progress," writes Croce,
"implies accepting it as necessary in all its parts, and therefore denying validity
to judgments on it."15Condemnation of the past on
ethical grounds has no meaning; for in Hegel's words, "philosophy transfigures the
real which appears unjust into the rational."16What
was, is right. History cannot be judged except by historical standards. It is significant
that our historical judgments, except those relating to a past which we can ourselves
remember as the present, always appear to start from the presupposition that things could
not have turned out otherwise than they did. It is recorded that Venizelos, on reading in
Fisher's History of Europe that the Greek invasion of Asia Minor in 1919 was a
mistake, smiled ironically and said: "Every enterprise that does not succeed is a
mistake."17If Wat Tyler's rebellion had succeeded, he
would be an English national hero. If the American War of Independence had ended in
disaster, the Founding Fathers of the United States would be briefly recorded in history
as a gang of turbulent and unscrupulous fanatics. Nothing succeeds like success.
"World history," in the famous phrase which Hegel borrowed from Schiller,
"is the world court." The popular paraphrase "Might is Right " is
misleading only if we attach too restricted a meaning to the word "Might."
History creates rights, and therefore right. The doctrine of the survival of the fittest
proves that the survivor was, in fact, the fittest to survive. Marx does not seem to have
maintained that the victory of the proletariat was just in any other sense than that it
was historically inevitable. Lukacs was a consistent, though perhaps indiscreet, Marxist
when he based the "right" of the proletariat on its "historical
mission."18 Hitler believed in the historical mission
of the German people.
The Relativity of Thought
The outstanding achievement of modern realism, however, has been to reveal, not merely the determinist aspects of the historical process, but the relative and pragmatic character of thought itself. In the last fifty years, thanks mainly though not wholly to the influence of Marx, the principles of the historical school have been applied to the analysis of thought; and the foundations of a new science have been laid, principally by German thinkers under the name of the "sociology of knowledge." The realist has thus been enabled to demonstrate that the intellectual theories and ethical standards of utopianism, far from being the expression of absolute and a priori principles, are historically conditioned, being both products of circumstances and interests and weapons framed for the furtherance of interests. "Ethical notions," as Mr. Bertrand Russell has remarked, "are very seldom a cause, but almost always an effect, a means of claiming universal legislative authority for our own preferences, not, as we fondly imagine, the actual ground of those preferences."19 This is by far the most formidable attack which utopianism has to face; for here the very foundations of its belief are undermined by the realist critique.
In a general way, the relativity of thought has long been recognized. As early as the
seventeenth century Bishop Burnet expounded the relativist view as cogently, if not as
pungently, as Marx:
As to the late Civil Wars, 'tis pretty well known what notions of government went current in those days. When monarchy was to be subverted we knew what was necessary to justify the fact; and then, because it was convenient for the purpose, it was undoubtedly true in the nature of things that government had its original from the people, and the prince was only their trustee . But afterwards, when monarchy took its place again . another notion of government came into fashion. Then government had its original entirely from God, and the prince was accountable to none but Him . And now, upon another turn of things, when people have a liberty to speak out, a new set of notions is advanced; now passive obedience is all a mistake, and instead of being a duty to suffer oppression, 'tis a glorious act to resist it: and instead of leaving injuries to be redressed by God, we have a natural right to relieve ourselves.20
In modern times, the recognition of this phenomenon has become fairly general. "Belief, and to speak fairly, honest belief," wrote Dicey of the divisions of opinion in the nineteenth century about slavery, "was to a great extent the result not of argument, not even of direct self-interest, but of circumstances.... Circumstances are the creators of most men's opinions." 21 Marx narrowed down this somewhat Vague conception, declaring that all thought was conditioned by the economic interest and social status of the thinker. This view was perhaps unduly restrictive. In particular Marx, who denied the existence of "national" interests, underestimated the potency of nationalism as a force conditioning the thought of the individual. But the peculiar concentration which lie applied to the principle served to popularize it and drive it home. The relativity of thought to the interests and circumstances of the thinker has been far more extensively recognized and understood since Marx wrote.
The principle has an extremely wide field of application. It has become a commonplace to say that theories do not mould the course of events, but are invented to explain them. "Empire precedes imperialism." 22 Eighteenth-century England "put into practice the policy of laissez-faire before it found a justification, or even an apparent justification, in the new doctrine"; 23 and "the virtual break-up of laissez-faire as a body of doctrine... has followed, and not preceded, the decline of laissez-faire in the real world."24 The theory of "socialism in a single country" promulgated in Soviet Russia in 1924 was manifestly a product of the failure of Soviet regimes to establish themselves in other countries.
But the development of abstract theory is often influenced by events which have no
essential connection with it at all.
In the story of political thought (writes a modern social thinker) events have been no less potent than arguments. The failure and success of institutions, the victories and defeats of countries identified with certain principles have repeatedly brought new strength and resolution to the adherents or opponents of these principles as the case might be in all lands.... Philosophy as it exists on earth is the word of philosophers who, authority tells us, stiffer as much from toothache as other mortals, and are, like others, open to the impression of near and striking events and to the seductions of intellectual fashion.25
Germany's dramatic rise to power in the sixties and seventies of last century was impressive enough to make the leading British philosophers of the next generation - Caird, T.H. Green, Bosanquet, McTaggart - ardent Hegelians. Thereafter, the Kaiser's telegram to Kruger and the German naval program spread the conviction among British thinkers that Hegel was a less good philosopher than had been supposed; and since 1914 no British philosopher of repute has ventured to sail under the Hegelian flag. After 1870, Stubbs and Freeman put early English history on a sound Teutonic basis, while even in France Fustel de Coulanges had an uphill struggle to defend the Latin origins of French civilization. During the past thirty years, English historians have been furtively engaged in making the Teutonic origins of England as inconspicuous as possible.
Nor is it only professional thinkers who are subject to such influences. Popular
opinion is not less markedly dominated by them. The frivolity and immorality of French
life was an established dogma in nineteenth-century Britain, which still remembered
Napoleon. "When I was young," writes Mr. Bertrand Russell, "the French ate
frogs and were called 'froggies', but they apparently abandoned this practice when we
concluded our entente with them in 1904 - at any rate, I have never heard it
mentioned since that date."26 Some years later,
"the gallant little Jap" of 1905 underwent a converse metamorphosis into
"the Prussian of the East." In the nineteenth century, it was a commonplace of
British opinion that Germans were efficient and enlightened, and Russians backward and
barbarous. About 1910, it was ascertained that Germans (who turned out to be mostly
Prussians) were coarse, brutal and narrow-minded, and that Russians had a Slav soul. The
vogue of Russian literature in Great Britain, which set in about the same time, was a
direct outcome of the political rapprochement with Russia. The vogue of Marxism in
Great Britain and France, which began on a modest scale after the success of the Bolshevik
revolution in Russia, rapidly gathered momentum, particularly among intellectuals, after
1934, when :it was discovered that Soviet Russia was a potential military ally against
Germany. It is symptomatic that most people, when challenged, will indignantly deny that
they form their opinions in this way; for as Acton long ago observed, "few
discoveries are more irritating than those which expose the pedigree of ideas."27 The conditioning of thought is necessarily a subconscious
The Adjustment of Thought to Purpose
Thought is not merely relative to the circumstances and interests of the thinker: it is also pragmatic in the sense that it is directed to the fulfillment of his purposes. For the realist, as a witty writer has put it, truth is "no more than the perception of discordant experience pragmatically adjusted for a particular purpose and for the time being."28 The purposeful character of thought has been discussed in a previous chapter; and a few examples will suffice here to illustrate the importance of this phenomenon in international politics.
Theories designed to discredit an enemy or potential enemy are one of the commonest forms of purposeful thinking. To depict one's enemies or one's prospective victims as inferior beings in the sight of God has been a familiar technique at any rate since the days of the Old Testament. Racial theories, ancient and modern, belong to this category; for the rule of one people or class over another is always justified by a belief in the mental and moral inferiority of the ruled. In such theories, sexual abnormality and sexual offenses are commonly imputed to the discredited race or group. Sexual depravity is imputed by the white American to the Negro; by the white South African to the Kaffir; by the Anglo-Indian to the Hindu; and by the Nazi German to the Jew. The most popular and most absurd of the charges leveled against the Bolsheviks in the early days of the Russian revolution was that they advocated sexual promiscuity. Atrocity stories, among which offenses of a sexual character predominate, are the familiar product of war. On the eve of their invasion of Abyssinia, the Italians issued an official Green Book of Abyssinian atrocities. "The Italian Government", as the Abyssinian delegate at Geneva correctly observed, "having resolved to conquer and destroy Ethiopia, begins by giving Ethiopia a bad name."29
But the phenomenon also appears in less crude forms which sometimes enable it to escape
detection. The point was well made by Crowe in a Foreign Office minute of March 1908:
The German (formerly Prussian) Government has always been most remarkable for the pains it takes to create a feeling of intense and holy hatred against a country with which it contemplates the possibility of war. It is undoubtedly in this way that the frantic hatred of England as a monster of personified selfishness and greed and absolute want of conscience, which now animates Germany, has been nursed and fed. 30
The diagnosis is accurate and penetrating. But it is strange that so acute a mind as Crowe's should not have perceived that he himself was at this time performing, for the limited audience of statesmen and officials to which he had access, precisely the same operation of which he accused the German Government; for a perusal of his memoranda and minutes of the period reveals an able, but transparent, attempt to "create a feeling of intense and holy hatred" against his own country's future enemy - a curious instance of our promptness to detect the conditioned or purposeful character of other people's thought, while assuming that our own is wholly objective.
The converse of this propagation of theories designed to throw moral discredit on an enemy is the propagation of theories reflecting moral credit on oneself and one's own policies. Bismarck records the remark made to him by Walewski, the French Foreign Minister, in 1857, that it was the business of a diplomat to cloak the interests of his country in the language of universal justice. More recently, Mr. Churchill told the House of Commons that "there must be a moral basis for British rearmament and foreign policy."31 It is rare, however, for modern statesmen to express themselves with this frankness; and in contemporary British and American politics, the most powerful influence has been wielded by those more utopian statesmen who are sincerely convinced that policy is deduced from ethical principles, not ethical principles from policy. The realist is nevertheless obliged to uncover the hollowness of this conviction. "The right," said Woodrow Wilson to the United States Congress in 1917, "is more precious than peace," 32 " Peace comes before all," said Briand ten years later to the League of Nations Assembly, " peace comes even before justice." 33 Considered as ethical principles, both these contradictory pronouncements are tenable and could muster respectable support. Are we therefore to believe that we are dealing with a clash of ethical standards, and that if Wilson's and Briand's policies differed it was because they deduced them from opposite principles? No serious student of politics will entertain this belief. The most cursory examination shows that the principles were deduced from the policies, not the policies from the principles. In 1917, Wilson had decided on the policy of war with Germany, and he proceeded to clothe that policy in the appropriate garment of righteousness. In 1928 Briand was fearful of attempts made in the name of justice to disturb a peace settlement favorable to France; and he had no more difficulty than Wilson in finding the moral phraseology which fitted his policy. It would be irrelevant to discuss this supposed difference of principles on ethical grounds. The principles merely reflected different national policies framed to meet different conditions.
The double process of morally discrediting the policy of a potential enemy and morally
justifying one's own may be abundantly illustrated from the discussions of disarmament
between the two wars. The experience of the Anglo-Saxon Powers, whose naval predominance
had been threatened by the submarine, provided an ample opportunity of denouncing the
immorality of this new weapon. "Civilization demands," wrote the naval adviser
to the American Delegation at the Peace Conference, "that naval warfare be placed on
a higher plane" by the abolition of the submarine.34
Unfortunately the submarine was regarded as a convenient weapon by the weaker French,
Italian and Japanese navies; and this particular demand of civilization could not
therefore be complied with. A distinction of a more sweeping character was established by
Lord Cecil in a speech to the General Council of the League of Nations Union in 1922:
The general peace of the world will not be materially secured merely by naval disarmament.... If all the maritime Powers were to disarm, or drastically limit their armaments, I am not at all sure that would not increase the danger of war rather than decrease it, because the naval arm is mainly defensive; the offensive must be to a large extent the military weapon. 35
The inspiration of regarding one's own vital armaments as defensive and beneficent and
those of other nations as offensive and wicked proved particularly fruitful. Exactly ten
years later, three commissions of the Disarmament Conference spent many weeks in a vain
endeavor to classify armaments as "offensive" and "defensive."
Delegates of all nations showed extraordinary ingenuity in devising arguments, supposedly
based on pure objective theory, to prove that the armaments on which they chiefly relied
were defensive, while those of potential rivals were essentially offensive. Similar
attitudes have been taken up in regard to economic "armaments." In the latter
part of the nineteenth century - and in a lesser degree down to 1931 - protective tariffs
were commonly regarded in Great Britain as immoral. After 1931 straight tariffs regained
their innocence, but barter agreements, industrial (though not agricultural) quotas,
exchange controls and other weapons employed by Continental states were still tainted with
immorality. Down to 1930, successive revisions of the United States tariff had almost
invariably been upward; and American economists, in other respects staunch upholders of laissez-faire,
had almost invariably treated tariffs as legitimate and laudable. But the change in the
position of the United States from a debtor to a creditor Power, combined with the
reversal of British economic policy, altered the picture; and the reduction of tariff
barriers has come to be commonly identified by American spokesmen with the cause of
National Interest and the Universal Good
The realist should not, however, linger over the infliction of these pin-pricks through chinks in the utopian defenses. His task is to bring down the whole cardboard structure of utopian thought by exposing the hollowness of the material out of which it is built. The weapon of the relativity of thought must be used to demolish the utopian concept of a fixed and absolute standard by which policies and actions can be judged. If theories are revealed as a reflection of practice and principles of political needs, this discovery will apply to the fundamental theories and principles of the utopian creed, and not least to the doctrine of the harmony of interests which is its essential postulate.
It will not be difficult to show that the Utopian, when he preaches the doctrine of the
harmony of interests, is innocently and unconsciously adopting Walewski's maxim, and
clothing his own interest in the guise of a universal interest for the purpose of imposing
it on the rest of the world. "Men come easily to believe that arrangements agreeable
to themselves are beneficial to others," as Dicey observed; 36
and theories of the public good, which turn out on inspection to be an elegant disguise
for some particular interest, are as common in international as in national affairs. The
utopian, however eager he may be to establish an absolute standard, does not argue that it
is the duty of his country, in conformity with that standard, to put the interest of the
world at large before its own interest; for that would be contrary to his theory that the
interest of all coincides with the interest of each. He argues that what is best for the
world is best for his country, and then reverses the argument to read that what is best
for his country is best for the world, the two propositions being, from the utopian
standpoint, identical; and this unconscious cynicism of the contemporary utopian has
proved a far more effective diplomatic weapon than the deliberate and self-conscious
cynicism of a Walewski or a Bismarck. British writers of the past half-century have been
particularly eloquent supporters of the theory that the maintenance of British supremacy
is the performance of a duty to mankind. "If Great Britain has turned itself into a
coal-shed and blacksmith's forge," remarked The Times ingenuously in 1885,
"it is for the behoof of mankind as well as its own." 37
The following extract is typical of a dozen which might be culled from memoirs of public
men of the period:
I have but one great object in this world, and that is to maintain the greatness of the Empire. But apart from my John Bull sentiment upon the point, I firmly believe that in doing so I work in the cause of Christianity, of peace, of civilization, and the happiness of the human race generally.38
"I contend that we are the first race in the world," wrote Cecil Rhodes, "and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race."39 In 1891, the most popular and brilliant journalist of the day, W. T. Stead, founded the Review of Reviews. "We believe in God, in England and in Humanity," ran the editorial manifesto in its opening number. "The English-speaking race is one of the chief of God's chosen agents for executing coming improvements in the lot of mankind."40 An Oxford professor was convinced in 1912 that the secret of Britain's history was that "in fighting for her own independence she has been fighting for the freedom of Europe, and that the service thus rendered to Europe and to mankind has carried with it the possibility of that larger service to which we give the name Empire."41
The first world war carried this conviction to a pitch of emotional frenzy. A bare
catalogue, culled from the speeches of British statesmen, of the services which British
belligerency was rendering to humanity would fill many pages. In 1917, Balfour told the
New York Chamber of Commerce that "since August, 1914, the fight has been for the
highest spiritual advantages of mankind, without a petty thought or ambition."42 The Peace Conference and its sequel temporarily discredited these
professions and threw some passing doubt on the belief in British supremacy as one of the
moral assets of mankind. But the period of disillusionment and modesty was short. Moments
of international tension, and especially moments when the possibility of war appears on
the horizon, always stimulate this identification of national interest with morality. At
the height of the Abyssinian crisis, the Archbishop of Canterbury admonished the French
public through an interview in a Paris newspaper :
We are animated by moral and spiritual considerations. I do not think I am departing from my role by contributing towards the clearing tip of this misunderstanding .
It is no egoist interest that is driving us forward, and no consideration of interest should keep you behind.43
In the following year, Professor Toynbee was once more able to discover that the
security of the British Empire "was also the supreme interest of the whole
world."44 In 1937, Lord Cecil spoke to the General
Council of the League of Nations Union of "our duty to our country, to our Empire and
to humanity at large," and quoted :
Not once nor twice in our rough island story
The path of duty is the way to glory.45
An Englishman, as Mr. Bernard Shaw remarks in The Man of Destiny, "never forgets that the nation which lets its duty get on to the opposite side to its interest is lost." It is not surprising that an American critic should recently have described the British as "Jesuits lost to the theological but gained for the political realm,"46 or that a former Italian Minister for Foreign Affairs should have commented, long before these recent manifestations, on " that precious gift bestowed upon the British people - the possession of writers and clergymen able in perfect good faith to advance the highest moral reasons for the most concrete diplomatic action, with inevitable moral profit to England."47
In recent times, the same phenomenon has become endemic in the United States. The story
how McKinley prayed for divine guidance and decided to annex the Philippines is a classic
of modern American history; and this annexation was the occasion of a popular outburst of
moral self-approval hitherto more familiar in the foreign policy of Great Britain, than of
the United States. Theodore Roosevelt, who believed more firmly than any previous American
President in the doctrine L'etat, c'est moi, carried the process a step further.
The following curious dialogue occurred in his cross-examination during a libel action
brought against him in 1915 by a Tammany leader:
Query: How did you know that substantial justice was done?
Roosevelt: Because I did it, because I was doing my best.
Query: You mean to say that, when you do a thing, thereby substantial justice is done.
Roosevelt: I do. When I do a thing, I do it so as to do substantial justice. I mean just that.48
Woodrow Wilson was less naively egotistical, but more profoundly confident of the identity of American policy and universal justice. After the bombardment of Vera Cruz in 1914, he assured the world that "the United States bad gone down to Mexico to serve mankind."49 During the first world war, he advised American naval cadets "not only always to think first of America, but Always, also, to think, first of humanity" - a feat rendered slightly less difficult by his explanation that the United States had been "founded for the benefit of humanity."50 Shortly before the entry of the United States into the war, in an address to the Senate on war aims, he stated the identification still more categorically: "These are American principles American Policies.... They are the principles of mankind and must prevail." 51
It will be observed that utterances of this character proceed almost exclusively from Anglo-Saxon statesmen and writers. It is true that when a prominent National Socialist asserted that "anything that benefits the German people is right, anything that harms the German people is wrong,"52 he was merely propounding the same identification of national interest with universal right which had already been established for English-speaking countries by Wilson, Professor Toynbee, Lord Cecil and many others. But when the claim is translated into a foreign language, the note seems forced, and the identification unconvincing, even to the peoples concerned. Two explanations are commonly given of this curious discrepancy. The first explanation, which is popular in English-speaking countries, is that the policies of the English-speaking nations are in fact more virtuous and disinterested than those of Continental states, so that Wilson and Professor Toynbee and Lord Cecil are, broadly speaking, right when they identify the American and British national interests with the interest of mankind. The second explanation, which is popular in Continental countries, is that the English-speaking peoples are past masters in the art of concealing their selfish national interests in the guise of the general good, and that this kind of hypocrisy is a special and characteristic peculiarity of the Anglo-Saxon mind.
It seems unnecessary to accept either of these heroic attempts to cut the knot. The
solution is a simple one. Theories of social morality are always the product of a dominant
group which identifies itself with the community as a whole, and which possesses
facilities denied to subordinate groups or individuals for imposing its view of life on
the community. Theories of international morality are, for the same reason and in virtue
of the same process, the product of dominant nations or groups of nations. For the past
hundred years, and more especially since 1918, the English-speaking peoples have formed
the dominant group in the world; and current theories of international morality have been
designed to perpetuate their supremacy and expressed in the idiom peculiar to them.
France, retaining something of her eighteenth-century tradition and restored to a position
of dominance for a short period after 1918, has played a minor part in the creation of
current international morality, mainly through her insistence on the role of law in the
moral order. Germany, never a dominant Power and reduced to helplessness after 1918, has
remained for these reasons outside the charmed circle of creators of international
morality. Both the view that the English-speaking peoples are monopolists of international
morality and the view that 'they are consummate international hypocrites may be reduced to
the plain fact that the current canons of international virtue have, by a natural and
inevitable process, been mainly created by them.
The Realist Critique of the Harmony of Interests
The doctrine of the harmony of interests yields readily to analysis in terms of this principle. It is the natural assumption of a prosperous and privileged class, whose members have a dominant voice in the community and are therefore naturally prone to identify its interest with their own. In virtue of this identification, any assailant of the interests of the dominant group is made to incur the odium of assailing the alleged common interest of the whole community, and is told that in making this assault he is attacking his own higher interests. The doctrine of the harmony of interests thus serves as an ingenious moral device invoked, in perfect sincerity, by privileged groups in order to justify and maintain their dominant position. But a further point requires notice. The supremacy within the community of the privileged group may be, and often is, so overwhelming that there is, in fact, a sense in which its interests are those of the community, since its well-being necessarily carries with it some measure of well-being for other members of the community, and its collapse would entail the collapse of the community as a whole. In so far, therefore, as the alleged natural harmony of interests has any reality, it is created by the overwhelming power of the privileged group, and is an excellent illustration of the Machiavellian maxim that morality is the product of Power. A few examples will make this analysis of the doctrine of the harmony of interests clear.
In the nineteenth century, the British manufacturer or merchant, having discovered that
Laissez-faire promoted his own prosperity, was sincerely convinced that it also
promoted British prosperity as a whole. Nor was this alleged harmony of interests between
himself and the community entirely fictitious. The predominance of the manufacturer and
the merchant was so overwhelming that there was a sense in which an identity between their
prosperity and British prosperity as a whole could be correctly asserted. From this it was
only a short step to argue that a worker on strike, in damaging the prosperity of the
British manufacturer, was damaging British prosperity as a whole, and thereby damaging his
own, so that he could be plausibly denounced by the predecessors of Professor Toynbee as
immoral and by the predecessors of Professor Zimmern as muddle-headed. Moreover, there was
a sense in which this argument was perfectly correct. Nevertheless, the doctrine of the
harmony of interests and of solidarity between the classes must have seemed a bitter
mockery to the under-privileged worker, whose inferior status and insignificant stake in
"British prosperity" were consecrated by it; and presently he was strong enough
to force the abandonment of laissez-faire and the substitution for it of the
"social service state," which implicitly denies the natural harmony of interests
and sets out to create a new harmony by artificial means.
The same analysis may be applied in international relations. British nineteenth-century statesmen, having discovered that free trade promoted British prosperity, were sincerely convinced that, in doing so, it also promoted the prosperity of the world as a whole. British predominance in world trade was at that time so overwhelming that there was a certain undeniable harmony between British interests and the interests of the world. British prosperity flowed over into other countries, and a British economic collapse would have meant world-wide ruin. British free traders could and did argue that protectionist Countries were not only egotistically damaging the prosperity of the world as a whole, but were stupidly damaging their own, so that their behavior was both immoral and muddle headed. In British eyes, it was irrefutably proved that international trade was a single whole, and flourished or slumped to ether. Nevertheless, this alleged international harmony of interests seemed a mockery to those under-privileged nations whose inferior status and insignificant stake in international trade were consecrated by it. The revolt against it destroyed that overwhelming British preponderance which had provided: a plausible basis for the theory. Economically, Great Britain in the nineteenth century was dominant enough to make a bold bid to impose on the world her own conception of international economic morality. When competition of all against all replaced the domination of the world market by a single Power, conceptions of international economic morality necessarily became chaotic.
Politically, the alleged community of interest in the maintenance of peace, whose ambiguous character has already been discussed, is capitalized in the same way by a dominant nation or group of nations just as the ruling class in a community prays for domestic peace, which guarantees its own security and predominance, and denounces class-war, which might threaten them, so international peace becomes a special vested interest of predominant Powers. In the past, Roman and British imperialism were commended to the world in the guise of the pax Romana and the pax Britannica. Today, when no single Power is strong enough to dominate the world, and supremacy is vested in a group of nations, slogans like "collective security" and "resistance to aggression" serve the same purpose of proclaiming an identity of interest between the dominant group and the world as a whole in the maintenance of peace. Moreover, as in the examples we have just considered, so long as the supremacy of the dominant group is sufficiently great, there is a sense in which this identity of interest exists. "England," wrote a German professor in the nineteen-twenties, "is the solitary Power with a national program which, while egotistic through and through, at the same time promises to the world something which the world passionately desires: order, progress and eternal peace."53 When Mr. Churchill declared that " the fortunes of the British Empire and its glory are inseparably interwoven with the fortunes of the world,"54 this statement had precisely the same foundation in fact as the statement that the prosperity of British manufacturers in the nineteenth century was inseparably interwoven with British prosperity as a whole. Moreover, the purpose of the statements was precisely the same, namely to establish the principle that the defense of the British Empire, or the prosperity of the British manufacturer, was a matter of common interest to the whole community, and that anyone who attacked it was therefore either immoral or muddleheaded. It is a familiar tactic of the privileged to throw moral discredit on the underprivileged by depicting them as disturbers of the peace; and this tactic is as readily applied internationally as within the national community. "International law and order," writes Professor Toynbee of a recent crisis, "were in the true interests of the whole of mankind... whereas the desire to perpetuate the region of violence in international affairs was an anti-social desire which was not even in the ultimate interests of the citizens of the handful of states that officially professed this benighted and anachronistic creed."55 This is precisely the argument, compounded of platitude and falsehood in about equal parts, which did duty in every strike in the early days of the British and American Labor movements. It was common form for employers, supported by the whole capitalist press, to denounce the "anti-social" attitude of trade union leaders, to accuse them of attacking law and order and of introducing "the reign of violence," and to declare that "true" and "ultimate" interests of the workers lay in peaceful cooperation with the employers.56 In the field of social relations, the disingenuous character of this argument has long been recognized. But just as the threat of class-war by the proletarian is "a natural cynical reaction to the sentimental and dishonest efforts of the privileged classes to obscure the conflict of interest between classes by a constant emphasis on the minimum interests which they have in common,"57 so the war-mongering of the dissatisfied Powers was the "natural, cynical reaction" to the sentimental and dishonest platitudinising of the satisfied Powers on the common interest in peace. When Hitler refused to believe "that God has permitted some nations first to acquire a world by force and then to defend this, robbery with moralizing theories,"58 he was merely echoing in another context the Marxist denial of a community of interest between "haves" and "have-nots," the Marxist exposure of the interested character of "bourgeois morality" and the Marxist demand for the expropriation of the expropriators.
The crisis of September 1938 demonstrated in a striking way the political implications of the assertion of a common interest in peace. When Briand proclaimed that "peace comes before all," or Mr. Eden that "there is no dispute which cannot be settled by peaceful means,"59 the assumption underlying these platitudes was that, so long as peace was maintained, no changes distasteful to France or Great Britain could be made in the status quo. In 1938, France and Great Britain were trapped by the slogans which they themselves had used in the past to discredit the dissatisfied Powers, and Germany had become sufficiently dominant (as France and Great Britain had hitherto been) to turn the desire for peace to her own advantage. About this time, a significant change occurred in the attitude of the German and Italian dictators. Hitler eagerly depicted Germany as a bulwark of peace menaced by warmongering democracies. The League of Nations, he declared in his Reichstag speech of April 28, 1939, is a "stirrer up of trouble," and collective security means "continuous danger of war." Mussolini borrowed the British formula about the possibility of settling all international disputes by peaceful means, and declared that "there are not in Europe at present problems so big and so active as to justify a war which from a European conflict would naturally become universal."60 Such utterances were symptoms that Germany and Italy were already looking forward to the time when, as dominant Powers, they would acquire the vested interest in peace recently enjoyed by Great Britain and France, and be able to get their way by pillorying the democratic countries as enemies of peace. These developments may have made it easier to appreciate Halevy's subtle observation that "propaganda against war is itself a form of war propaganda."61
The Realist Critique of Internationalism
The concept of internationalism is a special form of the doctrine of the harmony of interests. It yields to the same analysis; and there are the same difficulties about regarding it as an absolute standard independent of the interests and policies of those who promulgate it. "Cosmopolitanism," wrote Sun Yat-sen, "is the same thing as China's theory of world empire two thousand years ago.... China once wanted to be sovereign lord of the earth and to stand above every other nation, so she espoused cosmopolitanism." 62 In the Egypt of the Eighteenth Dynasty, according to Freud, "imperialism was reflected in religion as universality and monotheism."63 The doctrine of a single world-state, propagated by the Roman Empire and later by the Catholic Church, was the symbol of a claim to universal dominion. Modern internationalism has its genesis in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century France, during which French hegemony in Europe was at its height. This was the period which produced Sully's Grand Dessin and the Abbé Saint-Pierre's Projet de Paix Perpetuelle (both plans to perpetuate an international status quo favorable to the French monarchy), which saw the birth of the humanitarian and cosmopolitan doctrines of the Enlightenment, and which established French as the universal language of educated people. In the next century, the leadership passed to Great Britain, which became the home of internationalism. On the eve of the Great Exhibition of 1851 which, more than any other single event, established Great Britain's title to world supremacy, the Prince Consort spoke movingly of "that great end to which all history points - the realization of the unity of mankind";64 and Tennyson hymned "the parliament of man, the federation of the world." France chose the moment of her greatest supremacy in the nineteen-twenties to launch a plan of European Union"; and Japan shortly afterwards developed an ambition to proclaim herself the leader of a united Asia. It was symptomatic of the growing international predominance of the United States when widespread popularity was enjoyed in the late nineteen-thirties by the book of an American journalist advocating a world union of democracies, in which the United States would play the predominant role.65
Just as pleas for "national solidarity" in domestic politics always come from a dominant group which can use this solidarity to strengthen its own control over the nation as a whole, so pleas for international solidarity and world union come from those dominant nations which may hope to exercise control over a unified world. Countries which are struggling to force their way into the dominant group naturally tend to invoke nationalism against the internationalism of the controlling Powers. In the sixteenth century, England opposed her nascent nationalism to the internationalism of the Papacy and the Empire. In the past century and a half Germany opposed her nascent nationalism to the internationalism first of France, then of Great Britain. This circumstance made her impervious to those universalist and humanitarian doctrines which were popular in eighteenth-century France and nineteenth-century Britain; and her hostility to internationalism was further aggravated after 1919, when Great Britain and France endeavored to create a new "international order" as a bulwark of their own predominance. "By 'international'," wrote a German correspondent in The Times, "we have come to understand a conception that places other nations at an advantage over our own."66 Nevertheless, there was little doubt that Germany, if she became supreme in Europe, would adopt international slogans and establish some kind of international organization to bolster up her power. A British Labor ex-Minister at one moment advocated the suppression of Article 16 of the Covenant of the League of Nations on the unexpected ground that the totalitarian states might some day capture the League and invoke that article to justify the use of force by themselves.67 It seemed more likely that they would seek to develop the Anti-Comintern Pact into some form of international organization "The Anti-Comintern Pact," said Hitler in the Reichstag on January 30, 1939, "will perhaps one day become the crystallization point of a group of Powers whose ultimate aim is none other than to eliminate the menace to the peace and culture of the world instigated by a satanic apparition." "Either Europe must achieve solidarity," remarked an Italian journal about the same time, "or the 'axis' will impose it." 68 "Europe in its entirety," said Goebbels, " is adopting a new order and a new orientation under the intellectual leadership of National Socialist Germany and Fascist Italy."69 These were symptoms not of a change of heart, but of the fact that Germany and Italy felt themselves to be approaching the time when they might become strong enough to espouse internationalism. "International order" and "international solidarity" will always be slogans of those who feel strong enough to impose them on others.
The exposure of the real basis of the professedly abstract principles commonly invoked
in international politics is the most damning and most convincing part of the realist
indictment of utopianism. The nature of the charge is frequently misunderstood by those
who seek to refute it. The charge is not that human beings fail to live up to their
principles. It matters little that Wilson, who thought that the right was more precious
than peace, and Briand, who thought that peace came even before justice, and Mr. Eden, who
believed in collective security, failed themselves, or failed to induce their countrymen,
to apply these principles consistently. What matters is that these supposedly absolute and
universal principles were not principles at all, but the unconscious reflections of
national policy based on a particular interpretation of national interest at a particular
time. There is a sense in which peace and cooperation between nations or classes or
individuals is a common and universal end irrespective of conflicting interests and
politics. There is a sense in which a common interest exists in the maintenance of order,
whether it be international order or "law and order" within the nation. But as
soon as the attempt is made to apply these supposedly abstract principles to a concrete
political situation, they are revealed as the transparent disguises of selfish vested
interests. The bankruptcy of utopianism resides not in its failure to live up to its
principles, but in the exposure of its inability to provide any absolute and disinterested
standard for the conduct of international affairs. The utopian, faced by the collapse of
standards whose interested character he has failed to penetrate, takes refuge in
condemnation of a reality which refuses to conform to these standards. A passage penned by
the German historian Meinecke after the first world war is the best judgment by
anticipation of the role of utopianism in the international politics of the period :
The profound defect of the Western, natural-law type of thought was that, when applied to the real life of the state, it remained a dead letter, did not penetrate the consciousness of statesmen, did not hinder the modern hypertrophy of state interest, and so led either to aimless complaints and doctrinaire suppositions or else to inner falsehood and cant.70
These "aimless complaints," these "doctrinaire suppositions"; this
"inner falsehood and cant" will be familiar to all those who have studied what
was written about international politics in English-speaking countries between the two
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